CHAPTER 25

The news came to Alexander in the middle of the Iowa’s night. It was a solemn ship and a grim Alexander that attended the council of war. Augesburcke read the reports and narrated the tapes transmitted by the remnants of the fleet. When he was finished Alexander asked how the coordinated attacks on the Syraptose and Quotterim had gone.

“Better,” the Admiral informed him, “Though since they didn’t have the support of a conventional squadron the effect was lesser. Over the last two days the Syraptose “wolf pack” has thus far destroyed seventeen ships and disabled fifty-seven. The Quotterim “wolf pack” destroyed twenty-two ships and disabled sixty-nine. Each “wolf pack” continues to redeploy to their successive ambush points. The next strike is planned for seventeen-thirty hours, twelve hours from now.”

Alexander nodded and sighed, “Very well, I’ll take the fall for this one. I’ll admit I didn’t even consider that aspect of the engagements. Unfortunately, that cost us a third of the Seventh Fleet, and some good people.”

“These things happen in war, Alexander,” Augesburcke reminded him. “Admiral Halston has strict orders to avoid any engagement with the Golkos-Seer’koh main body. He made a mistake, and paid for it.”

“We can’t afford many more mistakes like that,” Alexander cautioned, “but we cannot draw back either. Admiral I want you to inform Admiral Halston’s successor that there is to be no delay in the next planned ambush, but let us remind everyone that this is a hit and run fight. No drawn out engagements. We do just as well to knock their ships out of superluminal as we do to destroy them. Emphasize that point! We will continue to keep the pressure on. Losses are inevitable, at least for the time being, but let’s make certain they bleed more than we do.”

“Yes sir. One more question: what do we tell the press? We’ve been fairly open with them thus far, but we’ve always had some good news to report. This is different. How do you want to handle it?”

“I don’t want an ignorant populace, Admiral, they should realize the gravity of these days,” Alexander replied, but he stopped there, thinking. None of the Admiralty, or Nazar, had seen him so grave in manner before. It was not depression, but rather a tragedy in his eyes. Alexander had nearly always fought his own battles. Now he had to sit back and leave the fighting to others. It was a helplessness he plainly did not enjoy. Finally, he asked a question. “What is the name of the nearest system?”

Augesburcke’s aide thumbed through his computer, answering, “Xenobia IV, in the galactic atlas; it’s a standard “G” type star with a small brown dwarf at five Astronomical units. It has a small Scythian trading post on the second terrestrial planet but no colony.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I am renaming that system,” Alexander told them. “As of this day we shall refer to it as “Beta Thermopylae,” and this proud defeat we shall call the “Second Battle of Thermopylae.” There are to be no criticisms of Admiral Halston. He and his crews atoned for any miscalculation on their parts and showed the Alliance the stuff we are made of. This is a defeat; that is all. It is a sacrifice to the sovereignty of our space. That is, unfortunately to be expected. That is how I see this. That is how our populace should see it. Are there any questions?”

“None, Alexander,” Augesburcke replied in stern harmony with his Overlord. He gritted his teeth and pounded the table. “We’ll take this shot and bring you better news in the next few days, I guarrantee it!”

“I know you will, Admiral!” Alexander said somberly.

#

“Grand Admiral, the Terrans are announcing their defeat at Xenobia!” Khandar’s aide informed him at dinner.

Khandar leaned back in his chair at the Admiral’s mess, a hot cup of churl, a drink not unlike tea, in his hand. “Put it on,” he ordered. “Our own ethernet is filled with unwarranted jubilation over such a small victory. Let me see how the Terran’s handle this sting!”

“Grand Admiral, certainly you cannot downplay your triumph and its glory?” Khandar’s counterpart of the Seer’koh, Admiral S’kreen asked.

“Certainly I can, Admiral,” Khandar returned. “Considering the overwhelming advantage in numbers we had. It was an inevitable victory. The Terrans should never have stayed and fought. They should have withdrawn at the first sign of our return. That they did not was either foolishly brave or bravely stupid. I’m not certain which. But it should never have happened. That it did is to our fortune. We had no choice but to take the opportunity.”

“I believe we caught them despoiling the field, Grand Admiral,” S’kreen observed, “and so it was neither bravery nor stupidity but greed which led to their destruction.”

Khandar’s face twisted in response, “I do not entirely disagree with your assessment, Admiral but I note from our own crews that the Terrans were in the process of dealing with a mass surrender. Apparently they are not as efficient in that effort as they are in the more active pursuits of war. They would have been much better served to destroy the ships and crews outright, but they did not do so. I remember a similar case of mercy on the Terrans part in their conflict with Bureel the Rebel. Alexander allowed the surviving Chem of the “Lompoc” engagement to escape with their lives. I believe they had similar purposes here, although I do not doubt they would have salvaged what they could of our ships.”

“They are a strange race, Grand Admiral,” the Seer’koh replied. “Why should they themselves grant quarter to surrendering foes when they themselves ask for none?”

“I do not know that is the rule to their law,” Khandar said, “but I cannot answer your question. I think you open up a paradox, Admiral, and that in and of itself may be the only way of describing these Terrans. Let us watch their broadcast. Maybe there are answers therein!”

A the viewer on the mess wall showed the distinguished features of a Terran Admiral standing behind a podium. The background of the briefing was a black star field with the symbol of Terra, a blue silhouette of a bird of prey clutching an olive branch in one claw and a lightning bolt in the other. On the bird’s breast was a coat of arms; the silver spiral of the Milky Way on a sable field.

“That is your counterpart, Admiral Augesburcke!” Admiral S’kreen pointed out.

“Maybe,” Khandar replied, “from what we’ve heard the overall military strategy comes directly from Alexander.”

“He was not so brilliant this time!” the Seer’koh pointed out.

“It was not the plan, but the execution,” Khandar said, “and remember, we have over one hundred ships which were unable to rejoin the assault. Even in defeat the Terran strategy was not without effect! Let’s listen.”

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen of the press, Terrans, fellow citizens of the Federation, and our Chem guests,” Admiral Augesburcke began gravely. “I am with you this morning to verify the reports of heavy fighting in Terran space.” The star field behind him animated to display the forces Admiral Augesburcke talked about. “As you know forces of the Alliance invaded Terran space earlier this week. This morning at approximately zero-three-hundred Terran Zulu time our forces engaged the invaders in heavy fighting. I am pleased to report that substantial losses were inflicted upon the Syraptose and Quotterim-Bael fleets without loss or damage to Terran forces, however, after initial success in the engagement of the Golkos-Seer’koh our Seventh Fleet was forced to retreat due to vastly superior numbers. Although heavy losses were inflicted upon the invading Alliance warships the Seventh Fleet has also suffered heavily. I am authorizing the release of this compilation tape from the battle. If you will please watch the tape I will afterwards field a limited number of questions.”

The Admiral’s aide rolled the tape on the background screen. The tape began with a cavalcade of surrender calls from Alliance vessels. It was readily apparent that Admiral Halston expected such a response, and he immediately ordered a cease fire. He was in the process of sorting out the surrender when the rest of the Alliance fleet dropped out of superluminal almost in their midst. What followed were images of the furious fighting. Broadside after broadside flashed between the opposing fleets, and the limited space between the ships was soon filled with ionized plasma, glowing hulks, desperately fighting ships. The quarters were so close that the scene reminded one of hand-to-hand fighting more than a fleet battle.

Then came the strident command from Admiral Halston for those who could to withdraw, and those who could not to rejoin about the New Jersey. The following moments were inspiring and tragic, even to the watchful Alliance commanders. The screens of the retreating Terrans showed the last of the fleet gathering about their stricken flagship, firing as they moved. The enormous Alliance fleet enveloped them, calling for their surrender, but still they kept firing. Then a burned and bloodied Admiral Halston uttered his last defiant command. The remnants of the Halston’s squadron moved slowly towards the Golkos-Seer’koh flagship, attacking to the last. The tape ended.

No one in the Terran conference room, including Admiral Augesburcke were unaffected by the display. As the Admiral stepped to the podium again his voice was rough with emotion. “There was no surrender of Terran vessels in the battle. Upon the order of Alexander the neighboring system has been renamed “Beta Thermopylae,” in honor of the ancient stand the Spartans made at the pass of that name. If I may reference our own ancient history, King Leonidas and his Spartans fought to the last in defense of their rivals the Athenians. Their sacrifice awakened Greek nationalism which thereafter enabled the Greek victory at Platea the following year—ending the Persian threat and setting the foundations for Western Civilization. As did our ancestors, our comrades have again stood resolutely to the last in defiance of invaders. Though they fell in the end, in this, the “Second Battle of Thermopylae,” their sacrifice will spur us on to finish the task at hand; and as before this defeat will conclude with our decisive victory. Are there any questions?”

“What is the next step, Admiral?” a reporter asked, herself having trouble containing her voice.

Augesburcke cleared his throat. “We persevere. This is only a part of our campaign, ladies and gentlemen. The war is bound to be long and costly. We have won battles, and now we have lost battles. Let us not lose sight of the final goal in the present heat of the moment.”

“Admiral Augesburcke, where was the rest of the fleet? Why did the Seventh Fleet engage such a large force unsupported?”

“You must realize that I, of course, cannot divulge the whereabouts of our forces,” he said simply. “In response to the second part of your question, I don’t know if there really is an answer. Admiral Halston had accomplished a significant military victory over the last five days by destroying or disabling over five percent of the remaining Golkos-Seer’koh fleet. That is a significant rate of attrition not only on the enemy’s strength but their moral. Our present policy is not to inter the crews or the vessels but to take away their superluminal capability. In layman’s terms they are ineffective now. It would take those ships hundreds of years to reach Terra without repairs, so needless to say they are no longer a threat. Let me also say that we have, since the beginning of this campaign, been steadily witling the forces of the Alliance down. Initially the Alliance forces on the Golkos frontier numbered over twenty-four hundred warships. We have cut those forces down to approximately nineteen hundred, and they still have a long way to go and the balance of our fleets to engage.”

“When would they be in range of Terra, Admiral?”

“At their present course and speed the Alliance invasion fleets would converge upon Terra in approximately twenty-six days,” Augesburcke replied stoically. “We cannot intercept and engage their fleets at superluminal velocities. Unfortunately, that is a limitation in physics we cannot entirely overcome. Though we can reduce the numbers of the invaders somewhat we cannot prevent them from reaching the Terran system. We do, of course, have the opportunity to engage them in conventional combat when they reach our home system. I think we can assure them a rather hot welcome. Thank you all.” Admiral Augesburcke then left the stage, and the connection was closed.

“Excellently done,” Grand Admiral Khandar noted. “They tied a glorious defeat in their past, which in the end resulted in a victorious war, to that of their present. It is no secret, my friends, why Alexander has a firm grasp on his population. These Terrans are not rattled by their setbacks, despite what our interrogations tell us. That means they will attack us again.”

“Are you certain?” Admiral S’kreen asked. “After all we can afford the losses more than they.”

“To a point, Admiral,” Khandar replied. “They are correct in the assumption that our forces are not what they were when we began. We have suffered twenty percent losses thus far and our own intelligence tells us there are two Terran fleets as of yet unnaccounted for. If they are aggressive with their attacks, yet cautious with their engagements they could very likely bring our numbers down a significant amount by the time we reach Terra. Then they may engage us at odds more to Alexander’s liking.”

“There will be nothing left of the fleet we have already defeated by then,” the Seer’koh observed.

“Of what difference is that? They are a sacrificial force meant only for the purpose of bleeding us before the true engagement,” Khandar said firmly. “If there are any survivors Alexander will be well pleased, but he does not count on it. He means only to make us pay for every light year of Terran space we transgress. We must be ready for such sacrifice. Would we do any less if our space were invaded? See to it, commanders, and prepare for this war as a war. We will not win it in a decurn, and we dare not allow ourselves to think of anything but the final objective. Whatever trials we must overcome to get there we must overcome, but I will, before all is ended, see their sun set on Terra!” Grand Admiral Khandar left the mess, and after changing the sailing orders for the ships to make them lesser targets, he returned to his quarters. There he turned off the lights and lay in his bed. He did not try to sleep. He knew it would evade him. A single question would keep him from sleep, now until the answer was obvious. Would it be too late then? What if his greatest fears, his impossible fears were correct? What difference would that make in this, the greatest offensive since the Chem wars of expansion? Khandar gritted his teeth until they were about to crack. Where in all this space were the Terran fleets?

#

The Terran fleets in question sped silently, unsuspected, through the emptiness of space. Each found a similar void in their paths, as the systems outside the Homeworlds of the Syraptose and the Quotterim were barren of activity. Yet they listened intently to the galactic broadcasts over the ethernet. In these broadcasts were the vast majority of their news, and orders. For in each military news conference and in each statement released by Alexander were coded words and phrases encapsulating encrypted orders. Thus far the orders had been upgraded from the original plan of threat and confrontation to attack. All military targets were to be destroyed without warning until the recognized government surrendered unconditionally. There were higher levels slated for the attacks, but privately the crews hoped that could be avoided. They wanted victory, clean and final, not a bloodbath. Which way the battle would take was shortly to be written. The chronometers on the bridge of each ship now counted below fifty hours to destination.

#

Pro Consul Kvel Mavek didn’t appreciate the unavoidable meeting with the Master of the Hrang spies. It dampened the only sense of elation she’d had reason to find over the last decurns. The victory of Admiral Khandar lent a sudden air of confidence over the capital of Kempec, and even the peace loving people of that world were in a warlike mood. The arrival of the Master Hrang spy was a reminder of Mavek’s latest personal humiliation: her conference with Alexander after the failed second assassination attempt. The Hrang entered her office alone, without his aides this time. Mavek frowned.

“What have you for me this time Master She-Rok? Do you wish me to converse with Alexander once more? Have you another assassination plot you wish to inform me of?”

She-Rok smiled his thin Hrang smile, bowing politely to the Pro Consul. “I understand your frustration, Madame Pro Consul, but it is nothing of the sort.” He took a seat in his smooth Hrang manner, coiling into it rather than sitting. Joining the fingers of each hand together he said evenly, “I come merely to inform you that our participation in such events is finished, for the moment. You need not trouble yourself through any further involvement unless the death of Alexander is accomplished during the third opportunity foreseen by the Mystics. If that eventuality occurs we need merely fulfill our previous agreement with the Terrans.”

“If I am not mistaken, Master She-Rok, if such a situation was to occur the Terrans would have a significantly greater hold over us, than we over them.” The Pro Consul replied. “Previously our agreement was initiated with the expectation that peace would be on our terms. How is that possible if Terran forces stand upon the surface of Golkos, and have already defeated the Alliance?”

“Information is a more powerful tool than blasters in this case, Madame Pro Consul,” She-Rok said. “For instance, if the Terrans ever learned that Alexander’s successor was responsible for Alexander’s death they would exact their revenge, thereby nullifying the grasp for power. Silence in exchange for terms. It is an old bargain on Terra, Madame Pro Consul, and one which they will be all to happy to agree to. Might I add, as an extra bonus, that the entire affair is based upon a technology wholly under Scythian control. Therefore, when the distraught Terrans search for a scapegoat they will find it in the Scythians. We will dictate the peace, and be avenged for their fraud all at once.”

Pro Consul Kvel Mavek smiled, and her enthusiasm for the day returned. She hoped now that the foreseen day upon Golkos would never happen, and that soon Alexander would ask for terms himself. Grand Admiral Khandar was making good on his boasts, but in case that newly hopeful path failed Mavek had a backup which seemed almost as workable. She said good-bye to Master She-Rok in a much better mood than when she greeted him.