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Grass Eaters 2 | 55 | Invasion VII
🕑 Added 2024-09-20 16:47:00 +0000 UTCMNS Oengro, Gruccud-4 (3,000 km)
POV: Grionc, Malgeir Federation Navy (Rank: High Fleet Commander)
Grionc and the rest of the squadron leaders patiently listened as Loenda laid out her case over the battlemap.
“From Terran Naval Intelligence, we know the Grass Eaters’ secondary fleet is stationed in Grantor,” the elderly squadron leader said, pointing at the occupied former Granti capital. “We know they are combat-ready. And if they come in to reinforce the Grand Fleet, there is nothing we can do to stop it… even if the volley of missiles we sent into the outer system yesterday all hit their targets and decimate the fleet keeping us bottled up here. Even with the Amazon’s help, the secondary fleet can simply fly around our system.”
“What are you suggesting, Squadron Leader?” Grionc asked patiently.
“It’s time we stop playing defense, High Fleet Commander,” Loenda replied. “We hit them with everything we have!”
Loenda circled the Grantor cluster perimeter with a claw. Those star systems were a near-impenetrable fortress guarding the former home world of their Granti allies. It had taken the Znosians years to break through them. Now, it was a centerpiece for every simulation, every training exercise that the Sixth Fleet had been fixated on for the past six months. “The seven perimeter systems around Grantor: even if they have more ships, they can’t defend them all at once. We go into Grantor’s neighboring systems at random, hitting their orbital infrastructure and any isolated ships. The same thing we did when we were trying to relieve Datsot during the siege!”
“And when they send ships after us…”
“If they send too few ships after us, we beat them with the Amazon’s help. Too many, and we just leave and harass another system. And if they miscalculate and disperse too many ships out of Grantor, we take the opportunity to go in and trash their system defenses and orbital positions. We keep them so busy around Grantor… they don’t have time to think about their Grand Fleet!”
Grionc looked at the board thoughtfully. “A game of Paws and Peeks—”
“Exactly!” Loenda said, pounding the table. “It’s one of the scenarios we’ve been exercising for the last year.”
“Except we didn’t anticipate the enemy transferring over a thousand ships there.”
“A minor variation—” Loenda dismissed.
Grionc scratched her snout thoughtfully. “It sounds risky… but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. I’ll ask Kiara about it.”
“There is a second part to the plan,” Loenda added.
“A second part?”
“It involves the Second and Third Fleets…”
“Oh no,” Grionc groaned. “Have you seen what they’re doing over there at Stoers?”
“Nothing important, I assume.” Loenda waved her right paw dismissively. “Which is why I suggest they make themselves useful: there are all these Grass Eater occupied systems between them and the Granti border, each defended by skeleton fleets of one or two squadrons. Surely, they’ll have no issue taking them all back while we strike deep back into Granti territory.”
Grionc sighed. “I’m afraid you might be overestimating Fleet Commander Moescei, but I’ll bring it up with Kiara too. Maybe the Terrans can send a shuttle there and supervise them or something.”
Loenda sat back in her chair, satisfied.
“Anyone got anything else?” Grionc asked.
Vastae raised his paw. “One of my gunnery officers reported a notable observation. The enemy squadrons orbiting in the outer system are drifting near one of our mine volumes.”
An observation from a subordinate… Two years ago, that might have been seen as an overly curious cub adapting to a new job — at best. At worst, there might have been accusations that someone was angling for their commanding officer’s job. But that was two years of cooperating with the new allies ago.
“Lucky Grass Eaters,” Grionc noted sarcastically.
“Their ships may not get hit, but if they do, we will have big problems,” Vastae pointed out. “Their fleet might get spooked and decide to change orbits. If they move too much, our missiles currently flying towards them have already expended most of their fuel. If the enemy fleet moves too much, our missiles in-flight likely will not have enough to adjust to the new orbit. We’ll have given the game away for a few mine kills.”
Grionc nodded. “Ah. I see. Remotely deactivate those mines for now.”
“Yes, High Fleet Commander.”
“One more item,” Grionc added. “The news just got relayed to us: the Mississippi got a blink vector, and they’re setting up a blink disruption trap for the Grand Fleet at Caerio. If that works out, the war might be decided tonight.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
Grionc sighed, dark thoughts clouding her head. “The war might be decided tonight too.”
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TRNS Mississippi, Interstellar (Caerio-Spivauxu)
POV: Amelia Waters, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Admiral)
“We’re out of blink, Admiral,” Chuck reported to her from the bridge. “Blink disruption field on the highest setting we can go without frying anything.”
“Good,” Amelia replied. “Keep us in emissions control. When the entire Bun Navy drops on top of us, I want us to be nice and quiet. ETA?”
“No more than five minutes, ma’am.”
The Mississippi hung quietly in space but for the higher pitch humming of the ship’s electronics in its interior. Its gravidar reached out in every direction, checking for the presence of enemies in blink space.
Three minutes passed, mostly without words in the flag suite. Amelia checked the time no fewer than fifteen times, waiting for word from the bridge. It finally came.
“Admiral, we’re getting something on gravidar! Another one!”
She frowned. “Just two squadrons? Where are—”
“Two ships. They’re dropping into regular space now.”
“Just two?! Aren’t we expecting the whole enemy fleet?”
“Maybe the rest of them are behind schedule?” Chuck speculated.
“Tell me how you can be behind schedule with a standard blink drive,” Amelia demanded.
“I’m consulting with my drive engineer, Admiral— hold a second, we’ve got another two!”
“Another two—”
“Another two ships, Admiral.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Admiral. But we’re not seeing the rest of their fleet. Just the four ships,” Chuck replied.
Amelia felt a rock sink to the bottom of her stomach as she contemplated the possibilities. “Is our equipment malfunctioning?”
“The ship ran a self-diagnostic, Admiral, but nothing so far.”
“What ships did we catch?”
“One heavy fuel transport, two orbital transport, one missile destroyer,” he reported emotionlessly as the console updated with their confirmed signatures.
“Just four?”
“Just four.”
The ship waited around for an hour, until they were sure nothing else was showing up.
“How could this have happened?” Amelia demanded.
“Our observation drones back in Caerio have just reported in, ma’am… They’re reporting— ma’am, I think the rest of their fleet went by us.”
She buried her face in her palm. “Went by us.”
“Yes, ma’am. They must have. Perhaps each ship had independent blink vectors,” he speculated. “If they each used different vectors, well… space is big, and there’s only one of the Mississippi.”
“But… to do that, they would have to know about our blink interception capabilities!”
“Yes, Admiral. Did we ever let the Sphinx intercept maneuver slip to Peipplust or someone on the Cliunc before it was captured?”
“I— I’m not sure,” Amelia said, thinking hard. “Maybe I did. Maybe one of the officers in the Sixth Fleet told them at a meeting—”
“So… what do we do? Is it— is this it for the Republic? For all of us?” he despaired.
Amelia sighed. “One thing at a time, Captain. First, we deal with the four ships outside our window.”
“Aye, Admiral,” Chuck said, issuing instructions to his CIC on his console. They began calculating courses, preparing weapons… “What next?”
“Next, we go rescue the Puppers the next system over. I’m done watching them die for nothing, and so far, this has been a whole lot of nothing.”
“Then?” he persisted.
“Then, get me on a call with Atlas. It’s time for some painful decisions,” she said quietly.
“Are you going to order the Maikop Option?” Chuck asked.
She looked at the battlemap for a good long minute, thinking of her husband. “It could never be undone. We’ll be criminals. To our children and grandchildren.”
“If the Republic survives,” he added.
She sighed deeply. “If the Republic survives.”
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ZNS 1233, Grantor-3 (1,200 km)
POV: Sprabr, Znosian Dominion Navy (Rank: Eleven Whiskers)
His computer officer sounded triumphant. “Eleven Whiskers, Stsinkt is reporting that they’ve tallied four fewer ships after their latest blink!”
Sprabr’s face lit up with excitement. “That’s great news!”
“Yes, Eleven Whiskers.”
“I mean, it’s not great news that we’ve lost four ships.”
She nodded. “I understood your meaning, Eleven Whiskers.”
“It’s great news that our random dispersion trick worked,” he clarified. “It’s uh— terrible news that we lost four ships in the process.”
“But only four ships, Eleven Whiskers!”
They looked at each other simultaneously and recited the mantra, “Their lives were forfeited to the Prophecy the day they left the hatchling pools.”
Sprabr inspected the strategic map again. “If what we have about their engine specifications are right and they set off around when the Grand Fleet appeared in Gruccud, the Great Predators’ next interception will be in the system they call Preirsput, where our ships will need to refuel. This time, they should have more ships. Possibly up to two squadrons of their hiding ships.”
“Ten Whiskers Stsinkt says the fleet should remain combat effective even in the worst-case scenario. State Security assured us that their small ships don’t have a lot of missiles.”
Sprabr didn’t bother to chastise her. Hundreds of ships and over a hundred thousand Servants of the Prophet could die. But that was a small price to pay for the ultimate elimination of the Great Predators. “Is her recommendation still that we stay put here?”
“Yes, Eleven Whiskers.”
“What about you, Seven Whiskers?” he turned to her, asking.
“Me, Eleven Whiskers?”
“That plan I told you to work on… how is it coming along?”
“I’ve consulted with our Digital Guide and the captains that Ten Whiskers Stsinkt assigned to contain the Lesser Predators in Gruccud, Eleven Whiskers Sprabr… but there is no easy way around it. We can search for an unlikely path to the target, but other than that, if our ships come into proximity, they get hit. The Great Predator mines — we still can’t penetrate or replicate their hiding technology. Not yet. Our radar ships can barely detect the direction their hiding ships are coming from, and only when they’re close. We’ve tried shooting decoys through the mine volumes, but the control systems on the mines were not fooled. One of the Digital Guides claimed that we could fabricate and install anti-blooming gates on some of our sensors to reduce the blinding impact of the radioactive weapons, but… it’s all untested speculation. I take full responsibility for my incompetence, and the Gruccud captains have taken responsibility for their—”
“Nonsense,” Sprabr dismissed. “Millions of engineers working in the Ship Design Bureau for a year… if they can’t figure it out, you are not expected to. Unfortunately, it’s just another problem we will have to endure… for now.”
“Thank you, Eleven Whiskers.”
“And get this to a relay ship. Order Stsinkt to stop opening up these gaps in her jammer coverage.”
“Eleven Whiskers?”
“She’s getting closer to the Great Predators, putting more pressure on them. Now, they are compelled to respond to quicker, moving events. If messages are allowed through, even sporadically, it helps them more than us.”
“Yes, Eleven Whiskers,” his computer officer obeyed. She hesitated for a second, then brought it back up. “What if the Great Predators can get their messages through the jamming anyway?”
“Perhaps they can. In that case, they would jam us, and we wouldn’t hear anything anyway. We would need to use relay ships in either case.”
“Understood.”
“One last thing, remind Stsinkt not to deploy her ships in a way that advertises her presence. The Great Predators know of our hierarchical, civilized nature, and they will surely exploit it if they figure out which ship she is personally on.”
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TRNS Amazon, Gruccud (20,100 Ls)
POV: Kiara Agarwal, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Commander)
“The admiral failed,” Executive Officer Musa reported sadly. “Somehow the Buns knew that we were waiting to trap their ships. They dispersed appropriately and we only caught four ships in the blink disruption field. She is… declining to try it again, and the Mississippi is rescuing some Pupper ship in the next system over.”
“Damn it! Did she say if there’s a Plan B?” Captain Kiara Agarwal asked.
“Of course there is a Plan B,” Musa replied. “But there is a reason it’s a Plan B and not Plan A.”
“The Maikop Option?” she asked.
He nodded wordlessly.
She put it out of her mind. “That’s out of our hands now. Let’s focus on the here and now. How long until we reach handover on those missiles?”
Musa returned to his console. “The Pupper missiles will come close enough for direct real-time control from the Amazon within the hour. Then, two hours to intercept the bandits.”
“Good.”
Musa sat back in his chair. “Captain, what do you think about the latest Pupper scheme they’re floating?”
“You mean the one where we help them conduct a risky hit-and-run deep into the Grantor perimeter to pin their secondary fleet in place there?”
“Exactly that one.”
“I think… that once in a while, they stumble upon something remarkably… sane.”
“Sane?”
Kiara shrugged. “I mean… the details they sent over are completely unworkable, and the part about ordering Fleet Commander Moescei to retake all of occupied Federation territory herself in two weeks is silly, of course. But the overall contours, we can start with that, no?”
“I guess,” he answered noncommittally.
“We got a better idea?”
He thought for a moment. “Huh. I guess not. Maybe they are getting better at this after all.”
“They sure are. But… there are still some things we like to keep in-house,” Kiara said, standing up. She ordered, “Message CIC: prepare for missile swarm control handover.”
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Meta
Average length of tenure for a Dominion Ship Design Bureau chief since the covert entry of the Terran Republic into the war: 27 standard days.
Comments
Valdis Trautmanis
I had the same exact thoughts. The Buns all of a sudden seem to have too specific knowledge of Terran capabilities and common tactics and have just the right countermeasures in place. Too many to be just chance or good planning. I also suspect a major leak somewhere up high, at the government or Navy command level 🤔 From a storytelling perspective though, it would have been entirely too easy for the whole Bun armada to fall for the blink interdiction trick. Makes it more exciting to read 👍
Alex
Plan B also know as it's time for some Warcrimes.
jrharper42
That makes sense. Though I feel humanity could still have been a bit more tight-lipped with things. The Cole Protocol from Halo comes to mind, but alas, different universe, different humanity. Hopefully the Maikop Option isn't what I think it is, but extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures.
Spooker
It's hard to keep things a secret when there's so many moving pieces. A whole Malgeir fleet knew who they were. Even with their secrecy oaths and careful (ahem) curation by the alphabet people, you can't fool all of the people all of the time. The Republic had a good couple years in the shadows. But they knew something like this was eventually going to happen. Doesn't make it any less unpleasant when it does though.
jrharper42
The Znosians seem to have discovered a lot of secrets about humanity in a very short time. I wonder how they found out—the resistance maybe? Or it could just be the Malgeir. Whatever the source, humanity has been uncharacteristically incompetent when it comes to concealing and compartmentalizing sensitive information.
