Chapter Nine
Spin One
Bowden surveyed the conference room three days later with bags under his eyes. The run-up to this meeting had not been promising; he’d failed miserably in all the areas that his staff had predicted he would. Worse, most of the Family heads wouldn’t even talk to him, so he had no idea where they stood in regard to his basic plan. The only thing he’d made progress on—with Murphy’s help—was to get most of the Families to undertake autofabbing the corvette hulls while the others shifted their efforts to churning out non-Kulsian subsystems, which was—at least—a bit of a start.
Between the autofabbing nightmare, looking at different performance options in light of tactical ramifications, and trying to talk with all the various factions on the spins to coordinate them, Kevin hadn’t gotten much sleep, and it was beginning to show. Adrenaline could only keep you going so long.
The seating in front of him reminded him of his ready room on the carrier; space was at a premium, so the seats were packed tightly together. Unlike the carrier, though, the seats were hard metal and bolted to the deck, with just enough room for the thinner Hound-Dogs to slide between them. The only objects in the room that weren’t gray were the green plastic seatbacks and matching headrests, which he found an odd choice. They need an interior decorator, Bowden thought with a smile.
Although the facility could seat dozens of people, most of the seats were empty, with only five taken in the front row and a few Lost Soldiers in the back. Two men and a woman wearing the SpinDogs’ gray coveralls sat on the left end of the front row, matched by a solitary figure in the black coveralls of the RockHounds on the right end. Where the SpinDogs’ uniforms were heavily decorated, Legate Orgunz’s uniform was simple; only the Legate insignia shone from his collar points.
Murphy—for obvious reasons—sat in the exact middle between them, careful to give no sign of favor to either side. Unlike other meetings Bowden had attended, there were none of the aides and sycophants who normally followed the Family heads around.
“Honored Legate”—he nodded to Orgunz—“Honored Elders”—he nodded to the three on the other end of the row—“Boss”—a smile at Murphy, “thanks for coming. I’m Major Kevin Bowden, and I’ll be going over the strategy we intend to use to defeat the Kulsians.”
The SpinDogs looked pained at that pronouncement, and Orgunz looked grimmer than normal. Bowden smiled warmly. This is going to take all my salesmanship skills.
He flipped over the top page of the large tablet of butcher-block paper mounted on the easel next to him. An astrographic chart was revealed. Kevin gestured toward it with a large pointer. “As I’m sure you’re all aware, we are currently at periapsis, where the two systems are at their closest point of approach. Because of this, and a number of other factors, the approaching Kulsian fleet will arrive sooner than normal. It is also far larger than any previous force of Harvesters.”
“Most of this is your fault,” Orgunz noted.
Bowden smiled. “There’s no doubt that our operations here have contributed to that, but they have also given us a unique opportunity.”
“And what is that?” Orgunz asked.
“If you’ll bear with me for a moment, I’d like to outline a few factors, and then I will discuss that opportunity.”
“Quickly,” one of the male SpinDogs said. “Our time is at a premium.”
“Of course, Elder J’axon. I will be as brief as possible.” Bowden turned back to Orgunz. “As you noted, Legate, our operations have provoked this response. They have also successfully kept any word from getting back to Kulsis that suggests that we are the ones frustrating their plans . . . So, while the Kulsians know that there have been several very atypical events in this system, we believe they don’t know the full details or scope of them.
“Our comm intercepts suggest their leading hypothesis is that a pirate force is operating from bases on the system’s fringes. They’re also wondering if the initial loss of their coursers was due to a coronal mass ejection or some other kind of solar event with hard radiation and electromagnetic flux. They haven’t ruled out a plague, either. Bottom line: they still don’t know what’s happened, and the surveyors haven’t been able to find answers. So the Kulsians are sending a lot of ships to search for and eliminate the problem, and they’re burning hard to get here as soon as possible. And that gives us a singular tactical opportunity.”
Bowden glanced around the compartment. “Since most of you are pilots, this may be familiar to you, but for those who aren’t, any large number of craft traveling in formation requires that the individual ships burn a lot of extra fuel to keep them where they’re supposed to be. This is especially true for the ships that are on the periphery of the formation; they are frequently forced to jockey their throttles to maintain their position relative to the other ships. The bigger the formation, the more fuel-inefficient it is.”
Bowden pointed to the diagram. “As you can also see, at periapsis, the two Kuiper belts—”
“The what?” Elder J’axon asked.
“Sorry; that’s our term for remainders of the planetary accretion disks surrounding both stars beyond the farthest stable orbits. At periapsis, 55 Tauri’s two stars’ respective ‘junk rings’ come into contact, causing considerable vector changes in that debris. So, in order to safely navigate here, the Kulsians will have to travel ‘up’ out of their ecliptic plane to avoid the junk-ring collisions taking place between the two systems.
“So, you have a large force, coming hard, that has to travel farther than normal. When they get here, they are going to be low on fuel.”
“Perfect,” Orgunz said. “We can strike them on arrival, and they won’t be able to maneuver. Our habs will be safe, as they will never get a chance to see them.”
The SpinDogs looked conflicted, wincing as they nodded. They clearly agreed with the RockHound’s statement, but the act of doing so seemed physically painful to them.
“Well, yes, we could do that,” Bowden agreed, “but I have a plan that I think will better maximize our assets.”
He flipped the page. “As you can see here, I am proposing we hit them as they reach R’Bak. This will give us a number of advantages. First, just prior to arriving, the Kulsians will have continued braking, and they will now be at the very end of their fuel. If we wait until their ships start to descend, climbing back out of the gravity well to engage us will completely empty their tanks. Having the combat in R’Bak’s orbit will also allow us to use our microsats for intel and targeting, and we can hit them from a variety of hiding points, driving wedges into their formation that will scatter them and allow us to outnumber them locally, even though they outnumber us on the whole.”
“I disagree,” J’axon said. “If I were that low on fuel, I would want to go to the gas giants in the system to refuel before arriving at R’Bak. It only makes sense for them to do so.”
“As much as I don’t want to admit it, I believe Elder J’axon is correct,” Orgunz said. “There is nothing worse than being out of fuel. It leaves you without any choices.” He nodded. “They will definitely go to the gas giants to refuel first. Our best bet is to either strike them on system arrival or to hide until they leave again. Or at least until they disperse, so we can outnumber them locally, as you have recommended.”
“Although scooping the gas giants’ atmospheres or scraping their icy moons are both possibilities, I respectfully disagree,” Bowden replied. “First, the Kulsians have never done so in the past, so it is unlikely they will do so now: there’s no evidence they have the equipment for either option. Second, if you look at the astrographics, the two gas giants will be out of place for them to simply stop there. Instead, they would have to go past R’Bak to get to them, burning even more fuel.”
Bowden shook his head. “Getting water from the moons is an energy-expensive process that wastes their most precious asset—time. Remember, we are already near periapsis. Shortly after the Harvesters arrive, the systems will be starting to diverge again, so the more time it takes to complete their mission here, the farther—and longer—their trip home.
“Looking at their operational patterns from past trips, when the Harvesters arrive, they head to R’Bak to refine water into deuterium and tritium and then lift it to orbit. Only once they’ve accumulated sufficient fuel stocks do they send out a special team to the moons to set up automated plants for generating the fuel they’ll use during the return trip. I saw their processing machinery on one of my training flights; they leave it in place from Sear to Sear. It will take time to refurbish the equipment, time to get it working, and still more time to start generating fuel.” Bowden shrugged. “They aren’t going to do that first. They’re going to do what they’re here for: harvesting resources. Once that’s in their hands—and only then—will they start worrying about the trip home.”
Murphy leaned forward and looked down the row at the SpinDogs. “Primus Anseker, what do you think?”
Anseker glanced toward Murphy with a raised eyebrow, and Bowden realized Murphy was calling in a favor—one that wouldn’t be easily repaid. And Bowden had better not screw this up because the Lost Soldiers’ reputation would be shit. He chuckled to himself. Of course, I won’t have to worry about the wrath of the SpinDogs if the attack goes poorly; I’ll be too dead to care.
After a moment, Anseker nodded. “I think the Terrans’ plan has merit. The Kulsians will be disorganized and out of fuel as they descend to R’Bak. That is the time to hit them.”
The primus raised a pausing finger as mutters began to rise around him. “There is another highly decisive factor that has not been widely shared for reasons of security.” He waited for, and got, expectant silence. “As you were briefed before the surveyors arrived, the Terrans’ alien translator now flawlessly decodes Kulsian signals. But it affords us an even greater opportunity when we engage their Harvester fleet. In analyzing their signals, the translator has also delineated very predictable patterns in their frequency switching when sending short range, ship-to-ship radio signals.”
Anseker smoothed a wrinkled sleeve nonchalantly. “Within a week, special jamming platforms will arrive at loiter points between our star and the Kulsians’. When the battle commences, their radio communications will be significantly degraded, possibly unreadable.”
“Do you mean to say,” Orgunz muttered reluctantly, “that they may not even be able to inform their Overlords of our existence or the battle?”
“Possibly, but I am not depending upon that result,” Anseker clarified. “Sko’Belm Murphy rightly cautions us that any sending of an inter-system signal—forbidden by the Death Fathers—will alert the Kulsians that their Harvester fleet is in grave peril. They might also use different frequency patterns for such emergency messages. But if they do not, it is likely that the Overlords will be unable to extract much useful information from the fragments of intact code that might reach them.” Anseker turned to glance at the other SpinDog primae. After a moment, they nodded their approval.
Anseker turned back toward Murphy. “The SpinDogs will support your plan. I will expect you to keep me well informed of your progress.”
“I will, Primus Anseker,” Murphy said, completing an exchange that was pure theater for the benefit of the other leaders.
Orgunz sighed and shook his head. “I am not convinced that this is the best way to proceed. It is certainly not the safest. Still, if everyone else is comfortable with Sko’Belm Murphy’s claims, the RockHounds give their support, as well.”
Anseker nodded at the Legate, glanced back at Murphy with a strange look in his eyes. “I am curious about how these plans build toward our long-term goals.”
Murphy nodded and stood to address the room. “At the moment, we are under the thumb of the Kulsians. Just as this system always has been. I intend to change that. This battle—if prosecuted correctly—will allow us to savage the Harvester force, inflicting losses so great that the Kulsians will be unable to dispatch another viable force during the present Searing. Any fleet approaching after that would be at an immense logistical disadvantage, given the rapidly increasing distance they’d have to cover, whereas we could use that time to build even more ships.
“But even if they do mount another offensive during this Sear, we will still have additional time to replicate more ships to meet them, as well as any ships and or matériel we might capture in the upcoming battle. It is also my intention to immediately seize Downport as well. That way, they will not have that as a base of operations, either, should they return.
“Finally, and most important, we will have proven to the secondary powers of Kulsis that the major powers there are not invincible. By showing that they can be beaten, we embolden the insurgencies there and sow political and economic discord that may do our work for us.” He smiled. “The best possible outcome? That they will not be able to return until the next Searing. But our primary objective is simply this: that we win the coming battle.”