Chapter 9
Harlock
I should have expected that really
9
Cyrus Colony.
“Time?”
“At most ten minutes.” Neroon answered. “Sensor buoys are already down.”
“How swiftly is the evacuation proceeding?” Branmer asked.
“Most of our key personnel are already clear. Unfortunately we’re not going to be able to evacuate our supply dumps.”
“Have the Ingata destroy them.”
“Understood.” Neroon grunted. “We only just refilled them after the last attack.”
“Fortunes of war Alyt. Better burnt to ash than held by humans.”
Neroon could see little fortunate in this battle. They were alive but had lost more than half their number and many ships that did survive were heavily damaged. The fleet that returned to Cyrus was battered and scorched, their hulls scored black by weapons fire and missing great chunks from their flanks. Most had damage to the poorly protected drive fins harming their mobility, several had been struck by massed pulse fire or missiles and were gnarled and torn. A couple were still burning, their crews too depleted to repair the damage.
They were a sorry sight, a defeated force and the humiliation was not done yet.
“The main batch of transports are clear.” Neroon reported sombrely. “We only have six left, they should be at the gate shortly.”
“I want all ships ready to jump.” Branmer said. “We’re in no position to take on the Earth fleet.”
“Our second fleet is standing by at the border to block any human attempts to cross into our space.” Neroon reported. “The Council is with them. They have requested your presence.”
“I’m sure their invitation was not so polite.”
“No Shai Alyt.” Neroon shook his head. “I think they will blame you for this.”
“It is the nature of government to shift blame. We lost because Earth gained an advantage and exploited it. We did the same thing earlier in the war, we inflicted a defeat which no doubt shook humanity to the core. They accepted the losses, adapted, and struck back hard. I only hope we do the same thing and do not allow wounded pride to dictate our strategy.”
“Will they appoint a new Shai Alyt?”
“Almost certainly.” Branmer nodded. “Sineval wants the job, but it will be over Coplann’s dead body. No, I’d expect they will give it to Shakiri.”
“Shakiri is more clever than Sineval.” Neroon agreed. “But he is still a Windsword and he has an uncompromising interpretation of honour. I do not think he will distinguish between warrior and civilian as you have.”
There was a gentle chime, both officers looking up at the curtain of images surrounding them.
“It appears our time is up. Withdraw by flotilla, launch missiles on the way out to slow the humans down.”
EAS Charlemagne.
“We’re in position Admiral, Captain Maynard reports Minbari forces are scattered and retreating.”
“Jump in with the lead elements.” Admiral Ferguson ordered. “Dreadnoughts front, jump in as close as we dare. We’ll try and bring some down before they bolt.”
This time the caution and need to weigh up the enemy were no longer needed, Ferguson knew what he was up against, he knew what the enemy could throw at him and he knew it wasn’t nearly enough to stop him. It was time to be bold, to hit the enemy with fury and firepower and try to finish off his wounded opponent. His fighter squadrons had done their bit, today he’d let his battleships draw blood.
The heavy warships surged forward, receiving their coordinates from Maynard’s scout mission. Each Dreadnought went in with a pair or corvettes for safety, the rest of the EA fleet close behind.
“Make sure the enhanced ships go in first.” Ferguson reminded. “Jump them straight into the action.”
The transition was quick, the Dreadnoughts knew where the Minbari were and jumped within a few hundred kilometres, their guns already tracking before they even left the vortex. Minbari missiles were launched to meet them, tremendously powerful weapons but few in number, barely target practice for the Olympus corvettes which swiftly went to work.
“Contact forward, Minbari in sight!” Commander Kawoo picked the three closest ships as the EAS Warspite blazed out of hyperspace, the brutal looking warship fully prepared to live up to its appearance.
“Lock main cannons, fire as they bear!” Captain Black replied sharply. “All ahead flank, do not let them run!”
The Minbari were powering up to jump but with the EA ships jumping out almost on top of them the few moments they needed to activate their drives, create a vortex and cross the event horizon gave Earth a free shot. It was a very brief window, but fortunately for Earth there was no ship in service that could fill such a fleeting moment with more hurt and pain than a Nova with a target in its firing arcs.
The Warspite unloaded into the nearest ships, engaging a battered Sharlin and three Frigates. It wasn’t even a contest, the semi automatic rail guns went through the Minbari ships without even slowing down, carrying thousands of tons of debris with them as the exited their targets. She put nearly a hundred rounds through the Minbari ships in less than three seconds, at the end of that time there was nothing resembling a warship left.
Not to be outdone the EAS Nemesis was also neck deep in pieces of blue hull, blasting pulses in every direction in a spectacular display of violence, wreathing the ship in flames and shimmering crystal fragments. Two dozen Dreadnoughts turned everything in range into scrap in just seconds. The pure scale of the destruction was extraordinary, the speed with which a further forty ships were simply erased from existence was genuinely blood chilling.
Further out the remaining Minbari ships made the jump, deploying countermeasures as the remaining Earth ships arrived to decoy the volley of missiles Ferguson fired at them through the red tumult. It was a gamble, the Minbari were using a different beacon and were at extreme range for hyperspace, none of the missiles hit and Ferguson wasn’t about to chase them over the border.
“They were ready for us.” Commander Austin exhaled. “Looks like they evacuated most of the colony too.”
“A shame, but I suppose this isn’t the moment to complain.” Ferguson said. “We hit those ships hard, I doubt they’ll be back in action for months. Deploy in guard formation, if I were the Minbari I’d start launching spoiling attacks straight away.”
“Sending out the orders sir.”
“Then tell the army to move in, if there are Minbari still down there we’ll have to weed them out.”
“The Normandy was holding a few minutes behind us, I think they were crawling the walls in there expecting to hit Jericho.”
“Now they’ll get their chance on Cyrus.” Ferguson shrugged. “Break them out and get them planetside.”
“Admiral.” The communications officer interrupted. “Sir, I have a signal coming in from Geneva. It’s the President.”
“And I thought only bad news travelled fast.” Ferguson chuckled. “I’ll take it in the briefing room, keep me informed of any changes Commander.”
“I suppose this counts as a victory.” Austin observed. “People are going to be happy.”
“I think we’ve earned it.” Ferguson agreed. On the main plot the sensors showed clearly the debris field left behind by the Fourth Fleet weeks earlier, the cold graves of thousands of his friends and colleagues. “But we’re still nowhere close to being even.”
Earth
“The initial reports are better than we could have hoped for. Far better.”
Vice President Karl Durban lay the file down on his table with a deliberate whack, the soft card jacket making a suitably satisfying sound. It was perhaps the first report he’d read that hadn’t darkened his mood, the first indications of an upswing in fortune.
Naturally Durban wasn’t about to break out the champagne just yet, but it did offer a ray of hope in an otherwise bleak future. Durban had been one of Earth’s best spies, one of only a handful to outwit the legendary Centauri Secret Service in the field before eventually finding himself promoted to Chief of the Earth Intelligence Agency. Under his stewardship the EIA fashioned itself into an even more formidable instrument of human security, it’s track record in the Dilgar war speaking for itself.
Not long afterwards Durban had followed in the footsteps of many Intelligence Chiefs and stepped into politics rather easily winning nomination to sit in the Senate on behalf of his native Australia. He’d risen swiftly to the cabinet until selected by President Levy as her running mate and later Vice President, a role he saw as practice for the Presidency itself.
Assuming of course there was an Earth left to preside over.
“We achieved a better than even loss ratio, even our most optimistic assessments believed we would still suffer in the face of the Minbari.” He remarked to his quest. “The Joint Chiefs are ecstatic.”
“They should allow themselves a little relief, this victory will certainly be great for morale and will boost our reputation abroad.” The guest agreed. “But we both know the odds of us winning this war are still against us.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Durban considered. “Now we can see them we can hit them.”
“And they can still hit us too, from greater range with greater accuracy. We won these battles because we achieved complete tactical surprise, the Minbari had no idea we could do this, they weren’t prepared. Next time they will be.”
“I think so too.” Durban manoeuvred towards the point of this little meeting. “Which is why we need to make sure that our fleets have every advantage. Like you.”
Akira Hamato managed a very, very faint smile, about the closest anyone outside his close family ever witnessed as a display of emotion.
“For a spy master you are not very subtle.”
“Only when I need to be. You knew exactly what this meeting was about long before you stepped on the plane, why try and hide it?”
“You have plenty of flag officers, good competent officers.” Hamato spoke flatly. “Ferguson is doing a fine job commanding the fleet, Denisov is also available after giving up his desk job. Why talk to me?”
“Because you have a name people know and respect.” Durban returned plainly. “You built a reputation in the Dilgar war, you fought hard battles against the best commanders the galaxy had seen. People who had crushed all resistance, annihilated thousands of ships and relentlessly conquered the League. Yet you beat them.”
“Not entirely.”
“No, not entirely.” Durban accepted. “Which brings us to the point.”
“When I resigned after the war it was not on good terms. I’m surprised the government let me keep my pension.”
“You did make a bit of a scene on galaxy wide media. You can’t expect the government to tolerate that sort of insubordination.”
“It was perhaps fortunate my daughter persuaded me not to commit Seppuku.”
“I expect it would have been hell to get the stains out of the carpet.”
The former Admiral remained silent for a moment, clearly contemplating this new sequence of events. For him the Dilgar war had been a betrayal, even with the Dilgar victory at Balos it was obvious they were broken and cracking. They could not sustain a war any further, if Earth had rearmed, regrouped, replaced her losses and hit back four or five months later it would have been a straight run to Omelos. But doing so would have condemned hundreds of thousands of soldiers to death on Balos under the Dilgar siege. Hamato was prepared to make that sacrifice for final victory, President Hauser and the Senate were not, especially with a very appealing Dilgar armistice before them.
“The President may have changed, but most of the cabinet voted for the armistice. Why would they want me back?”
“Because you remain the best Admiral we have.”
“Admiral Ferguson…”
“Is a great commander and will remain Admiral of the Fleet.” Durban affirmed. “But everyone knows he’s as good as he is because you taught him the game, along with almost all our other senior officers. They are products of the Dilgar War Navy, and that Navy was built in your image. They still call you the Father of Earth Force, you made the modern military, you and Denisov. The Nova Dreadnoughts, the new generation Furies, the doctrine that goes with them, this was yours.”
“The fleet has moved away from my doctrine, after I left the senate retired most of the missile cruisers and rail gun ships I wanted.”
“They’re being reactivated.” Durban smiled slightly. “Along with any prototype, limited run ship and half serviceable wreck we can stick a cannon on. The Joint Chiefs are partying right now but they know this is going to be a war to the knife, worse than the Dilgar. What’s happening now makes the mobilisation we had for the Dilgar look like a school trip. We have ships, we have skilled officers, we are training crews, but we need someone to be the face of the new Navy.”
“And you are looking at me?”
“It isn’t just public relations, though that is a big part of it. No one is going to be happy serving on a ship dragged out of mothballs or sent into battle still smelling of paint and grease, but they’ll be a hell of a lot happier if they know they have an Admiral like you calling the shots.”
“And from a practical point of view you need someone with experience training and organising an untested fleet.”
“Precisely.” Durban nodded. “The standing fleet isn’t a worry, they know their stuff, but the secondary fleets are either raw recruits or reservists who have been out of the loop too long. In a perfect world we’ll never need them, the front line units will handle everything. But you know as well as I do that losses are going to skyrocket in the next couple of weeks and we’ll need to throw more ships into battle. You can give them a better chance of making it home again.”
“What does the President think about this?” Hamato asked. “She was Hauser’s protégé, I can’t see her being too thrilled.”
“President Levy understands the necessity.” Durban replied. “She’ll take anything which gives us an edge.”
The old Admiral grew slightly more dour, which was something of an achievement.
“Speaking of dealing with the devil.” He dropped his voice. “I’ve heard rumours.”
“Still have friends in high places?” Durban snorted. “The Old Boys Network was always the best source of intelligence.”
“Don’t derail the discussion.” The Admiral pressed. “Did you make a deal with Deathwalker for these advanced sensors?”
“No.” Durban answered.
“No?” Hamato repeated.
“You asked a question, that is the answer.”
“I know you were a spy, and that you are a politician, but I want a better answer than that.”
Durban leaned forward, his eyes suddenly animated. “Alright, yes we did make a deal with the Dilgar, no, it wasn’t Deathwalker but only a fool would suspect she didn’t have her hand in it. No, I don’t give a damn if she is pulling our strings because this deal might save our species.”
“I see.”
“With all due respect Admiral I know this game a lot better than you do, there is no way this deal came our way right when we needed it most without some sort of price tag.” Durban grunted. “There’s a lot more at work here, but I officially don’t care. At this point if Deathwalker wanted to put a leash on my neck and make me beg for treats I’d do it if it gave our navy a chance to win this war, because before the Dilgar showed up we were losing hard.”
He crossed his arms, bleeding off his temper.
“I don’t care if you approve or not, I will handle the Dilgar and their schemes, you get back in uniform and get our second line forces into a fit enough shape so they aren’t just lambs to the slaughter.”
“Alright.” Hamato said without further discourse. “But I know the Dilgar, they are playing us.”
“Almost certainly.” Durban agreed. “But just like you built the fleet, I built our intelligence network. Trust them to do their job as well as we trust your people to do theirs.”
“Very well.” Hamato inclined his head. “What is my next move.”
“I already have a ship waiting to take you to Proxima.”
“You must have been very confident I would accept your proposal.”
The Vice President half smiled.
“I didn’t get to where I am without knowing how to read a person. You are a man of duty, even when that duty seemed to abandon you, you did not abandon it. Your fleet will be waiting for you along with all the information and clearances you’ll need. Welcome back to the Force Admiral.”
“One condition. I want to pick my own Captain.”
“Someone in mind?”
This time Hamato really did smile.
“One name suggests itself.”
Somewhere in Minbari space.
“Summoned, I stand before the Nine.”
Branmer didn’t flinch, whatever was about to happen he was utterly resolute in his choices, fully accepting of the consequences. The Council was going to crucify him and he would let them, compared to the alternative of losing the lives of everyone in his fleet this was a tiny price to pay.
“Branmer of the Family Mir, Star Riders clan.” Jenimer began, his voice bearing the authority of his rank. “You are called to answer your actions. Also present is Neroon of the Star Riders who will serve as witness.”
Neroon was far less comfortable, positively seething with rage at this apparent injustice.
“Branmer, by your own report you admit to losing more than half of your fleet.” Jenimer continued. “You also accept that you withdrew from all human territory we had previously seized, and further allowed some of our installations to fall into human hands.”
“The last is not accurate, I ordered the facilities destroyed.” Branmer clarified. “The rest is accurate, I offer no denials.”
“Do you wish to speak in your defence?”
“My report has all the relevent information. I have nothing further to say.”
“Shai Alyt?” Neroon frowned angrily, the older Minbari subtly shaking his head. It was not the time or place for an argument.
“Then the Council will decide what is to be done.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Morann scoffed loudly. “Branmer has failed spectacularly as a war leader! This is what happens when priests lead fleets!”
“It is not as if your choice did much better.” Coplann shot back.
“At least he had the common decency to die with his ship, not flee for home!”
Neroon started forward, again forcing Branmer to check him from laying into Morann and causing more trouble.
“It is customary for Minbari Warriors never to flee, to fight and die if necessary despite great odds.” The Shai Alyt spoke up. “But I ask what good is a dead soldier when we need living warriors? What use is a ship destroyed in a hopeless fight when it can be saved, repaired, then used again in a more advantageous battle?”
“You dare question our traditions priest?” Morann growled. “You dare belittle our honour?”
“What you call honour I call short sightedness.”
Morann began to turn a deep shade of red, Neroon glaring at him, daring him to lose his temper.
“This is preposterous!”
“Retreat is not dishonourable if it is not done out of fear.” Branmer clarified. “Withdrawing from battle is a strategy, no more or less honourable than a flanking attack or forced march. It is a tool to be used, a mere tactic, it has no greater significance than that. If it serves a better purpose why should we refuse to embrace it?”
“You are talking heresy!”
“Then perhaps heresy is needed!” Branmer declared loudly. “Perhaps it is time the Warrior Caste removed itself from the cycle of being bound by traditions and looked beyond itself. You may speak of tradition, but tradition does not deflect plasma fire or vaporise enemy ships!”
“Neither does running away!”
“No, but it does preserve our strength so we may return another day with more ships and just as importantly more veteran crew than we would otherwise have.”
“Neroon.” Jenimer shifted his focus. “You are a respected warrior, a student of Durhan, there is no one here who would question your credentials.”
“Alyt Neroon's ability is not in question.” Morann stated quickly. “It is Branmer who…”
“If I may continue.” Jenimer chided. “Alyt Neroon, in your assessment did the Shai Alyt make the correct decision?”
“The situation was against us.” Neroon looked around the circle, the illuminated figures silent as he spoke. If anything this was more intimidating than facing a thousand Earth Dreadnoughts. “The enemy struck with massive force on favourable terms. Somehow it appears they have broken our stealth systems.”
“How is this possible?”
“I do not know, but it is fact, I witnessed it myself. Given the enemy strength, their superior position and numbers, if we had stayed we would have been wiped out without significantly weakening the human fleet. It would have been a total defeat.”
“So you admit Branmer failed in his position?” Morann demanded.
“There is no warrior who could have won that battle.” Neroon returned forcefully. “And there is no warrior who could have extricated as many ships as the Shai Alyt did from that disaster. Instead of accusing him of incompetence you should be praising him for showing such insight and control of his forces!”
“Then perhaps it was not incompetence. Perhaps it was cowardice.”
“Enough!” Jenimer banged the tall staff of the Council leader on the metal floor, the sound deafening in the chamber. “Dukhat would not tolerate such insults, do not assume I will either! Neroon’s testimony is accepted.”
“If I may make one more comment?” Neroon addressed Jenimer.
“Speak.”
“I was not convinced Shai Alyt Branmer was the best choice for the role. When I was assigned I was sceptical of following a scholar rather than a veteran warrior. However I have learned that this is not a war of simple warriors but one of thinkers and scholars. As Valen was both scholar and warrior I say do not judge Branmer by what was lost but by what was preserved.”
“Would you follow him again?” Jenimer asked. “Even after this defeat?”
“To the surface of Z’Ha’Dum and back.”
“So noted.”
Jenimer stepped back towards the circle of light that marked his place in the circle.
“We will vote. Those who wish to retain Branmer as Shai Alyt, be known.”
Most of the lights went out, only Coplann and Delenn remained illuminated along with Jenimer himself.
“The Council has decided. Branmer of the Family Mir you will step down from the post of Shai Alyt.”
“I accept the judgement of the Council.”
“We must now decide upon a new Shai Alyt, and what punishment if any to assign you.”
“Given the lack of judgement shown by my fellow Satai,” Morann glared at Coplann. “I suggest the new Shai Alyt be from the Windsword clan.”
“The first Shai Alyt of the war was too, do you remember him Morann? He managed to lose the Black Star!” Coplann sneered. “Do not act as if your clan has a spotless record.”
“Rather than turn this into yet another chapter in the rivalry between your to clans,” Delenn interrupted. “Is there a leader from one of the other warrior houses we can summon?”
“Only Althain of the Nightwalkers commands the respect and power necessary to lead.” Branmer answered. “And sadly Althain is a master of ground combat. What is needed is a leader who has studied space combat.”
“The Star Riders nominate Alyt Neroon.” Coplann announced.
“Neroon is acknowledged as a worthy warrior, but with respect he does not have the experience needed for a task of this importance.” One of the Worker class stated. “In time perhaps, but if the situation is as dire as it seems we need a skilled and experienced leader at once.”
“Sineval would be…” Morann began.
“If you wish to continue walking you will stop yourself from finishing that sentence.” Coplann sneered.
“Then I suggest Shakiri.” Jenimer offered. “As I understand it he is a skilled warrior well learned in the art of starship combat, he is not so… inflexible shall we say, as Sineval, but he is still a Windsword. Does this meet your approval?”
Morann nodded. “The Windswords approve.”
Coplann also nodded, less enthusiastically. “The Star Riders reluctantly approve.”
“Any objections?”
None of the Council made comment.
“Then Shakiri will be promoted to Shai Alyt.”
“Very well.” Morann accepted. “What is to be done with Branmer?”
“It would be unwise to cast aside such a source of wisdom.” Coplann defended his kinsman. “While he may not lead our fleets he has skills we need. He should not be sent back to the temple.”
“You suggest a lesser role for him?” Jenimer inquired.
“With recent losses we are being forced to reactivate many of our older ships. As you know the Warrior Caste forms the main offensive element of our combat strength, but each of the three castes has its own forces used for patrol and defence. We have begun taking these workers and religious caste crews from their lesser roles and placing them into the reactivated ships where they will form a reserve.”
“But while these crews know how to operate their ships they do not have the knowledge of warfare we possess.” Neroon recognised Coplann’s plan. “They would require a teacher, someone both warrior and scholar.”
“Someone who had already made the transition from one of the other castes into being a warrior.” Jenimer nodded. “A wise use of resources. Shall we assign Alyt Branmer to administer the training and organisation of our reserve forces?”
Only Morann predictably objected.
“Then it is done. Branmer will assume command of the reserve fleet. Neroon, you will join Shakiri as his aide.”
“With respect I prefer to stay with Alyt Branmer.”
Jenimer frowned.
“Shakiri is now Shai Alyt, serving with him is a clear way to gain fame and glory.”
“But not wisdom. For that I must follow a different leader.”
“As you wish. Leave now, turn to your duties. We will summon Shakiri and see where the universe leads us next.”
Cyrus Colony.
“Time?”
“At most ten minutes.” Neroon answered. “Sensor buoys are already down.”
“How swiftly is the evacuation proceeding?” Branmer asked.
“Most of our key personnel are already clear. Unfortunately we’re not going to be able to evacuate our supply dumps.”
“Have the Ingata destroy them.”
“Understood.” Neroon grunted. “We only just refilled them after the last attack.”
“Fortunes of war Alyt. Better burnt to ash than held by humans.”
Neroon could see little fortunate in this battle. They were alive but had lost more than half their number and many ships that did survive were heavily damaged. The fleet that returned to Cyrus was battered and scorched, their hulls scored black by weapons fire and missing great chunks from their flanks. Most had damage to the poorly protected drive fins harming their mobility, several had been struck by massed pulse fire or missiles and were gnarled and torn. A couple were still burning, their crews too depleted to repair the damage.
They were a sorry sight, a defeated force and the humiliation was not done yet.
“The main batch of transports are clear.” Neroon reported sombrely. “We only have six left, they should be at the gate shortly.”
“I want all ships ready to jump.” Branmer said. “We’re in no position to take on the Earth fleet.”
“Our second fleet is standing by at the border to block any human attempts to cross into our space.” Neroon reported. “The Council is with them. They have requested your presence.”
“I’m sure their invitation was not so polite.”
“No Shai Alyt.” Neroon shook his head. “I think they will blame you for this.”
“It is the nature of government to shift blame. We lost because Earth gained an advantage and exploited it. We did the same thing earlier in the war, we inflicted a defeat which no doubt shook humanity to the core. They accepted the losses, adapted, and struck back hard. I only hope we do the same thing and do not allow wounded pride to dictate our strategy.”
“Will they appoint a new Shai Alyt?”
“Almost certainly.” Branmer nodded. “Sineval wants the job, but it will be over Coplann’s dead body. No, I’d expect they will give it to Shakiri.”
“Shakiri is more clever than Sineval.” Neroon agreed. “But he is still a Windsword and he has an uncompromising interpretation of honour. I do not think he will distinguish between warrior and civilian as you have.”
There was a gentle chime, both officers looking up at the curtain of images surrounding them.
“It appears our time is up. Withdraw by flotilla, launch missiles on the way out to slow the humans down.”
EAS Charlemagne.
“We’re in position Admiral, Captain Maynard reports Minbari forces are scattered and retreating.”
“Jump in with the lead elements.” Admiral Ferguson ordered. “Dreadnoughts front, jump in as close as we dare. We’ll try and bring some down before they bolt.”
This time the caution and need to weigh up the enemy were no longer needed, Ferguson knew what he was up against, he knew what the enemy could throw at him and he knew it wasn’t nearly enough to stop him. It was time to be bold, to hit the enemy with fury and firepower and try to finish off his wounded opponent. His fighter squadrons had done their bit, today he’d let his battleships draw blood.
The heavy warships surged forward, receiving their coordinates from Maynard’s scout mission. Each Dreadnought went in with a pair or corvettes for safety, the rest of the EA fleet close behind.
“Make sure the enhanced ships go in first.” Ferguson reminded. “Jump them straight into the action.”
The transition was quick, the Dreadnoughts knew where the Minbari were and jumped within a few hundred kilometres, their guns already tracking before they even left the vortex. Minbari missiles were launched to meet them, tremendously powerful weapons but few in number, barely target practice for the Olympus corvettes which swiftly went to work.
“Contact forward, Minbari in sight!” Commander Kawoo picked the three closest ships as the EAS Warspite blazed out of hyperspace, the brutal looking warship fully prepared to live up to its appearance.
“Lock main cannons, fire as they bear!” Captain Black replied sharply. “All ahead flank, do not let them run!”
The Minbari were powering up to jump but with the EA ships jumping out almost on top of them the few moments they needed to activate their drives, create a vortex and cross the event horizon gave Earth a free shot. It was a very brief window, but fortunately for Earth there was no ship in service that could fill such a fleeting moment with more hurt and pain than a Nova with a target in its firing arcs.
The Warspite unloaded into the nearest ships, engaging a battered Sharlin and three Frigates. It wasn’t even a contest, the semi automatic rail guns went through the Minbari ships without even slowing down, carrying thousands of tons of debris with them as the exited their targets. She put nearly a hundred rounds through the Minbari ships in less than three seconds, at the end of that time there was nothing resembling a warship left.
Not to be outdone the EAS Nemesis was also neck deep in pieces of blue hull, blasting pulses in every direction in a spectacular display of violence, wreathing the ship in flames and shimmering crystal fragments. Two dozen Dreadnoughts turned everything in range into scrap in just seconds. The pure scale of the destruction was extraordinary, the speed with which a further forty ships were simply erased from existence was genuinely blood chilling.
Further out the remaining Minbari ships made the jump, deploying countermeasures as the remaining Earth ships arrived to decoy the volley of missiles Ferguson fired at them through the red tumult. It was a gamble, the Minbari were using a different beacon and were at extreme range for hyperspace, none of the missiles hit and Ferguson wasn’t about to chase them over the border.
“They were ready for us.” Commander Austin exhaled. “Looks like they evacuated most of the colony too.”
“A shame, but I suppose this isn’t the moment to complain.” Ferguson said. “We hit those ships hard, I doubt they’ll be back in action for months. Deploy in guard formation, if I were the Minbari I’d start launching spoiling attacks straight away.”
“Sending out the orders sir.”
“Then tell the army to move in, if there are Minbari still down there we’ll have to weed them out.”
“The Normandy was holding a few minutes behind us, I think they were crawling the walls in there expecting to hit Jericho.”
“Now they’ll get their chance on Cyrus.” Ferguson shrugged. “Break them out and get them planetside.”
“Admiral.” The communications officer interrupted. “Sir, I have a signal coming in from Geneva. It’s the President.”
“And I thought only bad news travelled fast.” Ferguson chuckled. “I’ll take it in the briefing room, keep me informed of any changes Commander.”
“I suppose this counts as a victory.” Austin observed. “People are going to be happy.”
“I think we’ve earned it.” Ferguson agreed. On the main plot the sensors showed clearly the debris field left behind by the Fourth Fleet weeks earlier, the cold graves of thousands of his friends and colleagues. “But we’re still nowhere close to being even.”
Earth
“The initial reports are better than we could have hoped for. Far better.”
Vice President Karl Durban lay the file down on his table with a deliberate whack, the soft card jacket making a suitably satisfying sound. It was perhaps the first report he’d read that hadn’t darkened his mood, the first indications of an upswing in fortune.
Naturally Durban wasn’t about to break out the champagne just yet, but it did offer a ray of hope in an otherwise bleak future. Durban had been one of Earth’s best spies, one of only a handful to outwit the legendary Centauri Secret Service in the field before eventually finding himself promoted to Chief of the Earth Intelligence Agency. Under his stewardship the EIA fashioned itself into an even more formidable instrument of human security, it’s track record in the Dilgar war speaking for itself.
Not long afterwards Durban had followed in the footsteps of many Intelligence Chiefs and stepped into politics rather easily winning nomination to sit in the Senate on behalf of his native Australia. He’d risen swiftly to the cabinet until selected by President Levy as her running mate and later Vice President, a role he saw as practice for the Presidency itself.
Assuming of course there was an Earth left to preside over.
“We achieved a better than even loss ratio, even our most optimistic assessments believed we would still suffer in the face of the Minbari.” He remarked to his quest. “The Joint Chiefs are ecstatic.”
“They should allow themselves a little relief, this victory will certainly be great for morale and will boost our reputation abroad.” The guest agreed. “But we both know the odds of us winning this war are still against us.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Durban considered. “Now we can see them we can hit them.”
“And they can still hit us too, from greater range with greater accuracy. We won these battles because we achieved complete tactical surprise, the Minbari had no idea we could do this, they weren’t prepared. Next time they will be.”
“I think so too.” Durban manoeuvred towards the point of this little meeting. “Which is why we need to make sure that our fleets have every advantage. Like you.”
Akira Hamato managed a very, very faint smile, about the closest anyone outside his close family ever witnessed as a display of emotion.
“For a spy master you are not very subtle.”
“Only when I need to be. You knew exactly what this meeting was about long before you stepped on the plane, why try and hide it?”
“You have plenty of flag officers, good competent officers.” Hamato spoke flatly. “Ferguson is doing a fine job commanding the fleet, Denisov is also available after giving up his desk job. Why talk to me?”
“Because you have a name people know and respect.” Durban returned plainly. “You built a reputation in the Dilgar war, you fought hard battles against the best commanders the galaxy had seen. People who had crushed all resistance, annihilated thousands of ships and relentlessly conquered the League. Yet you beat them.”
“Not entirely.”
“No, not entirely.” Durban accepted. “Which brings us to the point.”
“When I resigned after the war it was not on good terms. I’m surprised the government let me keep my pension.”
“You did make a bit of a scene on galaxy wide media. You can’t expect the government to tolerate that sort of insubordination.”
“It was perhaps fortunate my daughter persuaded me not to commit Seppuku.”
“I expect it would have been hell to get the stains out of the carpet.”
The former Admiral remained silent for a moment, clearly contemplating this new sequence of events. For him the Dilgar war had been a betrayal, even with the Dilgar victory at Balos it was obvious they were broken and cracking. They could not sustain a war any further, if Earth had rearmed, regrouped, replaced her losses and hit back four or five months later it would have been a straight run to Omelos. But doing so would have condemned hundreds of thousands of soldiers to death on Balos under the Dilgar siege. Hamato was prepared to make that sacrifice for final victory, President Hauser and the Senate were not, especially with a very appealing Dilgar armistice before them.
“The President may have changed, but most of the cabinet voted for the armistice. Why would they want me back?”
“Because you remain the best Admiral we have.”
“Admiral Ferguson…”
“Is a great commander and will remain Admiral of the Fleet.” Durban affirmed. “But everyone knows he’s as good as he is because you taught him the game, along with almost all our other senior officers. They are products of the Dilgar War Navy, and that Navy was built in your image. They still call you the Father of Earth Force, you made the modern military, you and Denisov. The Nova Dreadnoughts, the new generation Furies, the doctrine that goes with them, this was yours.”
“The fleet has moved away from my doctrine, after I left the senate retired most of the missile cruisers and rail gun ships I wanted.”
“They’re being reactivated.” Durban smiled slightly. “Along with any prototype, limited run ship and half serviceable wreck we can stick a cannon on. The Joint Chiefs are partying right now but they know this is going to be a war to the knife, worse than the Dilgar. What’s happening now makes the mobilisation we had for the Dilgar look like a school trip. We have ships, we have skilled officers, we are training crews, but we need someone to be the face of the new Navy.”
“And you are looking at me?”
“It isn’t just public relations, though that is a big part of it. No one is going to be happy serving on a ship dragged out of mothballs or sent into battle still smelling of paint and grease, but they’ll be a hell of a lot happier if they know they have an Admiral like you calling the shots.”
“And from a practical point of view you need someone with experience training and organising an untested fleet.”
“Precisely.” Durban nodded. “The standing fleet isn’t a worry, they know their stuff, but the secondary fleets are either raw recruits or reservists who have been out of the loop too long. In a perfect world we’ll never need them, the front line units will handle everything. But you know as well as I do that losses are going to skyrocket in the next couple of weeks and we’ll need to throw more ships into battle. You can give them a better chance of making it home again.”
“What does the President think about this?” Hamato asked. “She was Hauser’s protégé, I can’t see her being too thrilled.”
“President Levy understands the necessity.” Durban replied. “She’ll take anything which gives us an edge.”
The old Admiral grew slightly more dour, which was something of an achievement.
“Speaking of dealing with the devil.” He dropped his voice. “I’ve heard rumours.”
“Still have friends in high places?” Durban snorted. “The Old Boys Network was always the best source of intelligence.”
“Don’t derail the discussion.” The Admiral pressed. “Did you make a deal with Deathwalker for these advanced sensors?”
“No.” Durban answered.
“No?” Hamato repeated.
“You asked a question, that is the answer.”
“I know you were a spy, and that you are a politician, but I want a better answer than that.”
Durban leaned forward, his eyes suddenly animated. “Alright, yes we did make a deal with the Dilgar, no, it wasn’t Deathwalker but only a fool would suspect she didn’t have her hand in it. No, I don’t give a damn if she is pulling our strings because this deal might save our species.”
“I see.”
“With all due respect Admiral I know this game a lot better than you do, there is no way this deal came our way right when we needed it most without some sort of price tag.” Durban grunted. “There’s a lot more at work here, but I officially don’t care. At this point if Deathwalker wanted to put a leash on my neck and make me beg for treats I’d do it if it gave our navy a chance to win this war, because before the Dilgar showed up we were losing hard.”
He crossed his arms, bleeding off his temper.
“I don’t care if you approve or not, I will handle the Dilgar and their schemes, you get back in uniform and get our second line forces into a fit enough shape so they aren’t just lambs to the slaughter.”
“Alright.” Hamato said without further discourse. “But I know the Dilgar, they are playing us.”
“Almost certainly.” Durban agreed. “But just like you built the fleet, I built our intelligence network. Trust them to do their job as well as we trust your people to do theirs.”
“Very well.” Hamato inclined his head. “What is my next move.”
“I already have a ship waiting to take you to Proxima.”
“You must have been very confident I would accept your proposal.”
The Vice President half smiled.
“I didn’t get to where I am without knowing how to read a person. You are a man of duty, even when that duty seemed to abandon you, you did not abandon it. Your fleet will be waiting for you along with all the information and clearances you’ll need. Welcome back to the Force Admiral.”
“One condition. I want to pick my own Captain.”
“Someone in mind?”
This time Hamato really did smile.
“One name suggests itself.”
Somewhere in Minbari space.
“Summoned, I stand before the Nine.”
Branmer didn’t flinch, whatever was about to happen he was utterly resolute in his choices, fully accepting of the consequences. The Council was going to crucify him and he would let them, compared to the alternative of losing the lives of everyone in his fleet this was a tiny price to pay.
“Branmer of the Family Mir, Star Riders clan.” Jenimer began, his voice bearing the authority of his rank. “You are called to answer your actions. Also present is Neroon of the Star Riders who will serve as witness.”
Neroon was far less comfortable, positively seething with rage at this apparent injustice.
“Branmer, by your own report you admit to losing more than half of your fleet.” Jenimer continued. “You also accept that you withdrew from all human territory we had previously seized, and further allowed some of our installations to fall into human hands.”
“The last is not accurate, I ordered the facilities destroyed.” Branmer clarified. “The rest is accurate, I offer no denials.”
“Do you wish to speak in your defence?”
“My report has all the relevent information. I have nothing further to say.”
“Shai Alyt?” Neroon frowned angrily, the older Minbari subtly shaking his head. It was not the time or place for an argument.
“Then the Council will decide what is to be done.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Morann scoffed loudly. “Branmer has failed spectacularly as a war leader! This is what happens when priests lead fleets!”
“It is not as if your choice did much better.” Coplann shot back.
“At least he had the common decency to die with his ship, not flee for home!”
Neroon started forward, again forcing Branmer to check him from laying into Morann and causing more trouble.
“It is customary for Minbari Warriors never to flee, to fight and die if necessary despite great odds.” The Shai Alyt spoke up. “But I ask what good is a dead soldier when we need living warriors? What use is a ship destroyed in a hopeless fight when it can be saved, repaired, then used again in a more advantageous battle?”
“You dare question our traditions priest?” Morann growled. “You dare belittle our honour?”
“What you call honour I call short sightedness.”
Morann began to turn a deep shade of red, Neroon glaring at him, daring him to lose his temper.
“This is preposterous!”
“Retreat is not dishonourable if it is not done out of fear.” Branmer clarified. “Withdrawing from battle is a strategy, no more or less honourable than a flanking attack or forced march. It is a tool to be used, a mere tactic, it has no greater significance than that. If it serves a better purpose why should we refuse to embrace it?”
“You are talking heresy!”
“Then perhaps heresy is needed!” Branmer declared loudly. “Perhaps it is time the Warrior Caste removed itself from the cycle of being bound by traditions and looked beyond itself. You may speak of tradition, but tradition does not deflect plasma fire or vaporise enemy ships!”
“Neither does running away!”
“No, but it does preserve our strength so we may return another day with more ships and just as importantly more veteran crew than we would otherwise have.”
“Neroon.” Jenimer shifted his focus. “You are a respected warrior, a student of Durhan, there is no one here who would question your credentials.”
“Alyt Neroon's ability is not in question.” Morann stated quickly. “It is Branmer who…”
“If I may continue.” Jenimer chided. “Alyt Neroon, in your assessment did the Shai Alyt make the correct decision?”
“The situation was against us.” Neroon looked around the circle, the illuminated figures silent as he spoke. If anything this was more intimidating than facing a thousand Earth Dreadnoughts. “The enemy struck with massive force on favourable terms. Somehow it appears they have broken our stealth systems.”
“How is this possible?”
“I do not know, but it is fact, I witnessed it myself. Given the enemy strength, their superior position and numbers, if we had stayed we would have been wiped out without significantly weakening the human fleet. It would have been a total defeat.”
“So you admit Branmer failed in his position?” Morann demanded.
“There is no warrior who could have won that battle.” Neroon returned forcefully. “And there is no warrior who could have extricated as many ships as the Shai Alyt did from that disaster. Instead of accusing him of incompetence you should be praising him for showing such insight and control of his forces!”
“Then perhaps it was not incompetence. Perhaps it was cowardice.”
“Enough!” Jenimer banged the tall staff of the Council leader on the metal floor, the sound deafening in the chamber. “Dukhat would not tolerate such insults, do not assume I will either! Neroon’s testimony is accepted.”
“If I may make one more comment?” Neroon addressed Jenimer.
“Speak.”
“I was not convinced Shai Alyt Branmer was the best choice for the role. When I was assigned I was sceptical of following a scholar rather than a veteran warrior. However I have learned that this is not a war of simple warriors but one of thinkers and scholars. As Valen was both scholar and warrior I say do not judge Branmer by what was lost but by what was preserved.”
“Would you follow him again?” Jenimer asked. “Even after this defeat?”
“To the surface of Z’Ha’Dum and back.”
“So noted.”
Jenimer stepped back towards the circle of light that marked his place in the circle.
“We will vote. Those who wish to retain Branmer as Shai Alyt, be known.”
Most of the lights went out, only Coplann and Delenn remained illuminated along with Jenimer himself.
“The Council has decided. Branmer of the Family Mir you will step down from the post of Shai Alyt.”
“I accept the judgement of the Council.”
“We must now decide upon a new Shai Alyt, and what punishment if any to assign you.”
“Given the lack of judgement shown by my fellow Satai,” Morann glared at Coplann. “I suggest the new Shai Alyt be from the Windsword clan.”
“The first Shai Alyt of the war was too, do you remember him Morann? He managed to lose the Black Star!” Coplann sneered. “Do not act as if your clan has a spotless record.”
“Rather than turn this into yet another chapter in the rivalry between your to clans,” Delenn interrupted. “Is there a leader from one of the other warrior houses we can summon?”
“Only Althain of the Nightwalkers commands the respect and power necessary to lead.” Branmer answered. “And sadly Althain is a master of ground combat. What is needed is a leader who has studied space combat.”
“The Star Riders nominate Alyt Neroon.” Coplann announced.
“Neroon is acknowledged as a worthy warrior, but with respect he does not have the experience needed for a task of this importance.” One of the Worker class stated. “In time perhaps, but if the situation is as dire as it seems we need a skilled and experienced leader at once.”
“Sineval would be…” Morann began.
“If you wish to continue walking you will stop yourself from finishing that sentence.” Coplann sneered.
“Then I suggest Shakiri.” Jenimer offered. “As I understand it he is a skilled warrior well learned in the art of starship combat, he is not so… inflexible shall we say, as Sineval, but he is still a Windsword. Does this meet your approval?”
Morann nodded. “The Windswords approve.”
Coplann also nodded, less enthusiastically. “The Star Riders reluctantly approve.”
“Any objections?”
None of the Council made comment.
“Then Shakiri will be promoted to Shai Alyt.”
“Very well.” Morann accepted. “What is to be done with Branmer?”
“It would be unwise to cast aside such a source of wisdom.” Coplann defended his kinsman. “While he may not lead our fleets he has skills we need. He should not be sent back to the temple.”
“You suggest a lesser role for him?” Jenimer inquired.
“With recent losses we are being forced to reactivate many of our older ships. As you know the Warrior Caste forms the main offensive element of our combat strength, but each of the three castes has its own forces used for patrol and defence. We have begun taking these workers and religious caste crews from their lesser roles and placing them into the reactivated ships where they will form a reserve.”
“But while these crews know how to operate their ships they do not have the knowledge of warfare we possess.” Neroon recognised Coplann’s plan. “They would require a teacher, someone both warrior and scholar.”
“Someone who had already made the transition from one of the other castes into being a warrior.” Jenimer nodded. “A wise use of resources. Shall we assign Alyt Branmer to administer the training and organisation of our reserve forces?”
Only Morann predictably objected.
“Then it is done. Branmer will assume command of the reserve fleet. Neroon, you will join Shakiri as his aide.”
“With respect I prefer to stay with Alyt Branmer.”
Jenimer frowned.
“Shakiri is now Shai Alyt, serving with him is a clear way to gain fame and glory.”
“But not wisdom. For that I must follow a different leader.”
“As you wish. Leave now, turn to your duties. We will summon Shakiri and see where the universe leads us next.”