Davion & Davion (Deceased)

by drakensis

When Prince John Davion dreamed of a distant descendant, he never expected to meet the ghost of that man outside his bathroom the next day. What Hanse Davion has to tell him is a nightmare. Together the two princes, man and ghost, are faced with a nigh-impossible challenge: save the Star League or see billions die in the fires of the Succession Wars.

21. Loyalist 4

SLS Camino Real, Addicks Orbit

Lockdale Province, Terran Hegemony

4 November 2768

"We've done well in liberating six more worlds from Republican forces," Admiral Brandt advised the council. She directed their attention to the map at the front of the briefing chamber. "With the experience on Addicks and Tigress, Fourth Army was able to reduce Angol's Castles Brian well ahead of schedule and secure the rimwards flank of our operations."

"So far, Amaris has restricted himself to probing at the defences of the liberated worlds. It seems that intelligence reports are correct and he's continuing to direct a significant portion of his reserves towards reinforcing the core worlds and his other frontiers rather than committing to try to defeat our Army Group in isolation."

"Under the circumstances, the possibility of pressing harder and wheeling up through the centre of the province to liberate the pocket between Tigress and Epsilon Eridani has been put before the strategic staff. After careful thought it's been decided that we won't do this, as we're already leaning on Second Army for garrisons. Capellan behaviour doesn't lead me to believe that the Fifth Army can be similarly weakened in the Confederation until we have more forces in theatre."

"As such, our goals for the next year are going to shift focus to the worlds along the Combine border."

All eyes went to the map and several eyebrows rose. General Chudzik was the one who voiced the obvious concern. "Are you talking about Al Na'ir, admiral?"

"I am," she agreed unflinchingly. "Until now both we and Amaris have been working on the basis that the SDS systems make worlds effectively unassailable. While exercises have shown the defences to be substantial, that's never really been put to the test."

Brandt looked around the room. "We always knew the day would come when we'd need to take a world protected by these systems. Well, the time is here. Aside from liberating Al Na'ir and its resources, this will serve two purposes. Firstly, we'll have data on how the defences operate under real world conditions that Kerensky will need before we engage the even heavier defences around Terra. Secondly, we'll shake Amaris up. So far he's been able to use systems with SDS as bastions to build his defences around. Now we'll take that confidence away from him."

"None of the systems we've taken are in jump-range of Al Na'ir," the new commander of Sixth Army noted. "And there are three worlds between us. Will we be bypassing them and using a deep space staging area?"

"No, general." Brandt zoomed the map in on the region. "The first stage of the operation will be the liberation of Towne, Pokhara and Murchison by your own command, along with the Seventh and Nineteenth Armies. Ideally Murchison will act as a staging area to reach Al Na'ir but if operations there don't proceed well, either of the other two worlds will serve."

"As soon as we have a staging area secured, Third Fleet will act as a spearhead to begin operations within the Al Na'ir system. For those unfamiliar, Al Na'ir itself is unterraformed and the cities there are enclosed. The wealth of the system is in mining operations scattered across the entire star system. While Republican forces are believed to only be garrisoning key nodes and defensive structures – including the SDS control centres – there's a very real possibility we'll need to secure mining operations across hundreds of asteroids and moons. For this reason, armoured and infantry units will be of limited use in ground operations. General Lucas?"

Jack Lucas rose. "The 123rd Jump Infantry Division has been bringing their exo-atmospheric training up to par over the last month in preparation for this operation, as have all fifteen 'Mech regiments in the other Divisions of LXIX Corps. They'll act as our first wave with the balance of Third Army acting as a reserve for operations on Murchison, Pokhara and Towne."

"Fourth Army is primarily committed to protecting the liberated worlds during these operations but General Baptiste has agreed to reorganise and concentrate her six brigades of jump infantry in reserve. In the event that the 123rd requires further infantry support we can call on them for reinforcements. Hopefully there won't be any further instances like Ankaa where extra infantry are needed in order to keep the peace."

"At the least, I think the message that the AFFS aren't here to invade seems to have sunk in," Chudzik replied. "The relief convoys from the Suns have helped a great deal and we're circulating news of damage done by the Rim Worlders on Ozawa as a case in point. Footage of Feddie volunteers working alongside the Ozawans to restore their space ports has done more the pacify Ankaa than another four infantry divisions would have."

Lucas looked over at Admiral Dokovic, representing Third Fleet. While Brandt had commandeered Fourth Fleet's flagship as her own after Admiral Marina Akkayev-Cameron had been confirmed as missing – she'd attended her distant cousin's Christmas celebrations on Terra two years before and not been seen since – the bulk of the Star League Navy's forces under the Army Group were built around Renata Dokovic's Third Fleet, reinforced with myriad flotillas assembled from the garrison fleet. "Admiral, will Federated Suns warships be participating in the operation?"

Dokovic shook her head. "Prince Davion has confirmed that his navy are available for such operations, including the first wave if necessary -" If the jump points used were defended then the first wave of attack could be expected to take heavy losses. "- but they don't have many heavy ships suitable for such operations and we haven't had the opportunity to train alongside them yet. I'd be open to that in the future but right now I'm assigning the FSN squadron under Admiral Moore to escort Sixth Army's transports over Pokhara."

"They won't be able to handle a major fleet operation if Amaris' ships at Al Na'ir are sent after them."

"That's the same situation as if the Rimmers strike at Murchison or Towne," she told him matter-of-factly. "We'll be dividing Nineteenth Fleet between those operations. Eleventh Fleet is stretched to cover the rest of our area of operations so if Amaris does do that we'll delay the Al Na'ir attack so that Third Fleet can reinforce the threatened system and destroy Amaris' mobile forces while they're outside the SDS defences. It would be an ideal opportunity."

"A little rough on whoever gets bounced," Baptiste muttered.

Brandt shrugged. "If we can't take a joke we shouldn't be doing this. And John Davion was all in favour of pulling Rim Worlders out of their defences so we needn't expect any protests from him if Moore does draw such an attack."

"You're just predisposed to like her because her flagship is a carrier," Dokovic said drily.

"Do you know how many fighters she has on that thing? A hundred and eighty with a full war load!" Brandt rolled her eyes heavenwards. "Why don't we have ships like that?"

"We tried. It was one of the more notable debacles in navy history, since the damned thing broke down before it was out of its construction docks. At least a McKenna can defend itself once another warship is in weapon's range, not to mention carry enough fuel and munitions to supply its fighter wings for a useful amount of time."

.o0O0o.

SLS Camino Real, Al Na'ir System

Lockdale Province, Terran Hegemony

21 December 2768

"Multiple drive flares, relative direction 179 by 005."

No fighter pilot could ever be sanguine about someone popping up 'on their six' and Joan Brandt was no exception. "Range? Numbers?"

"Correlating data from the fleet… approximately a million kilometres." The sensor officer studied the data. "Numbers are high, one hundred warships minimum, at least as many dropships."

The admiral gripped her seat. "And vector?"

"Intercept course. They're making roughly thirty mps-squared."

"Admiral Brandt?" her communications chief reported. "Admiral Dokovic for you."

"Put her through."

Third Fleet's commander seemed calm on the screen. "It seems they want to catch us before we reach the inner system," she noted blandly.

Due to the size of its star and the immense number of asteroids in the Al Na'ir system, many of them in orbits straying significantly above the orbital plane, jumping to transitory points was immensely hazardous and the standard jump points were three weeks from the one more or less habitable world at standard 9.8 mps-squared accelerations.

Moving at three times that made it clear who it was behind them – human crews could only accept that acceleration for a limited time span and very few SLDF ships could attain it, a number that didn't include the battleships that the two Admirals were aboard. But however many Republican warships were in system, the primary defence of Al Na'ir was the fleet of drone warships and dropships stationed here. Autonomous save for strategic direction, there were no crews aboard that might protest the punishing acceleration.

"The Caspars might be able to hit that acceleration but they can't keep it up forever. The on-board fuel stores are finite," Brandt observed thoughtfully. "They must have been lurking behind the jump-point waiting for us to arrive and move away so they could cut us off from retreat."

The other woman smiled coldly. "We didn't come here to retreat."

"Indeed not." The sang-froid masked a degree of concern though – Third Fleet had only eighty-six warships and slightly more than twice as many assault dropships to escort the transports needed to liberate Al Na'ir. "Their tactics are predictable: after making up ground they'll match velocity and try to wear down rearmost ships with slashing attacks."

"I'll deploy our screen accordingly," Dokovic confirmed and then, as if waiting for a challenge. "The Camino Real will take up position with the van."

Brandt's eyes narrowed but she said nothing. There could be more ships ahead after all and one of the two Admirals should be kept out of the initial clash, even if it galled her to be placed in the position of guard-dog for the glorified ferries carrying Lucas' 'Mechs and infantry.

Seeing that Brandt wasn't going to challenge her, Dokovic nodded. "As most of the drones don't have capacity to carry fighters; this seems like an ideal situation to use our own. I request authorisation for nuclear payloads."

"Authorisation confirmed. We're well clear of civilians, I can think of no better time."

.o0O0o.

The ten squadrons chosen for the strike were Rapiers, escorted in by an equal number of Hellcat IIs. As they flipped over and used their drives to begin bleeding off Third Fleet's velocity and close in on the pursuers, dozens more fighters launched from cruisers and destroyers to maintain a combat patrol around the fleet's formation. After all, they could be wrong about the prospect of drone-fighters.

Brandt watched on a repeater screen as the formations closed in. The Hellcats, with their advanced sensors, sent back a stream of data to refine that gathered already.

One hundred and forty-eight M-5 Caspar drones, exactly half of Al Na'ir's reported strength, escorted by twice as many of the much smaller M-3 drones. The 4,000 ton drones were operating in squadrons of six and she was uncomfortably aware that they - like the Pentagon-class dropships of her own screen – had a thrust-to-mass ratio comparable to the fighters. And the drones had no crews to suffer accelerations of up to fifty-five mps-squared.

The M-3s showed that, pushing ahead of their capital ships to engage the fighters. That was fine – as much as Brandt wanted to get rid of the destroyer-sized M-5s, she'd agreed with Dokovic that thinning the M-3 numbers would probably be necessary first.

The Hellcats didn't pull aside for the Rapiers, instead as the drones closed up they went to meet them, relying on their lasers to bleed the drones before the Rapiers made the killing blows.

As the attack developed, Brandt saw the fighters were already beginning to vanish from the display. Some of them briefly showed damage markers, but such cripples were quickly singled out for finishing shots by the computers aboard the drones.

"They're being slaughtered!" someone exclaimed.

Then the Rapiers reached engagement range and the Hellcats had done their job, drawing fire to the point that only a single Rapier had been destroyed before it could fire.

Visible light and surges of microwave activity marked detonations as Alamo nuclear missiles exploded against the armoured hulls of the M-3s. Freed of their cumbersome external payloads, the Rapiers darted into evasive manoeuvres as they tried to escape the weapon brackets of the surviving drones.

There were far too many of those survivors, Brandt saw. While the remaining Hellcats could detect damage, only a dozen of the M-3s were adrift or had broken up. As many as half of the missiles must have missed, she realised. And worse – even those that succeeded in striking home had more often than not failed to deliver complete kills.

The fighters clawed for velocity but the M-3 drones clung tenaciously to them. More than thirty Hellcats had been destroyed to get the Rapiers into range but the numbers continued to climb as the M-3s surged after them, ripping into the rear of the tattered formations. Behind them the M-5s were firing their drives and moving in pursuit – not as fast but their capital lasers had far more range than those of their escorts and even a single hit was fatal to the heavy fighters.

"They're boring in." Brandt could hear the sick certainty in her own voice. Physics was unforgiving and the Rapiers didn't have the thrust to escape the pursuit. We didn't give that enough consideration, she thought. I was too sure our fighters would have the agility advantage, but the drones don't care that they're throwing 4,000 ton dropships around like 40 ton fighters, it's within the drive's theoretical limits so why wouldn't they do it?

Behind her, Dokovic's line squadrons were turning to bring broadsides to bear on the inbound drones. The heavy turreted guns would reap a bloody harvest on the M-3s – she had six McKenna-class battleships (including her own flagship, SLS Iona) and three Cameron-class battlecruisers to anchor the rear-guard of the fleet, along with their escorting frigates and cruisers.

The clock reported that it took a full hour for the two fleets to reach gunnery range. Something deep inside the admiral attested that the clock lied. The agonising slaughter of the Rapiers and those Hellcats that had been too close to the M-3s as they mounted their pursuit seemed to play out interminably for her. Only when the shots at the scattered handful of survivors proved futile – so few, barely six squadrons left out of forty! – did the M-3s cut their drives and form up again as a bloodied but undaunted vanguard to the wall of Caspars behind them.

M-5 drones. Built on the hull frames of Lola-class fast destroyers. Without the need for life support or for the deep cargo holds required for long-range operations the weapon payload could be much heavier than their manned counterparts. And while the ships of Dokovic's fleet were bound together by morale and training, the M-5s were tied into a single tactical network of super-computers.

First Lord Jonathan Cameron had ordered the creation of the M-series drones to finally devise killers more deadly than even mankind. The M-5 wasn't the last of the series but it was without doubt the sharpened edge of that intent.

Now they would find out how it measured up.

Sixty-three nerve-wracking minutes after the fighter strike's failure, Third Fleet opened fire into the squadrons of M-3 drones. Particle beams, heavy naval autocannon and nuclear warheads ten times more powerful than those a fighter could carry pulverised the dropships.

But moments later the M-5 drones were able to return fire and Renata Dokovic's heavy ships were forced to switch their targets, leaving the smaller drones to destroyers, corvettes and even Pentagon-class assault dropships in favour of killing the real threat.

The rear of Third Fleet was engulfed in fire, a morass of indicators – friendly and hostile – dropping out of contact as they were destroyed or simply lost sight of in the storm of both intentional jamming and of the microwave pulses of nuclear detonation. Often the ships would be re-acquired moments later… but not always.

Ruthlessly calculating machines met grim and all too human determination…

Air-venting ships bucked under fantastic impacts. Mortally wounded vessels drove closer to fire one last salvo at suicidally close ranges, manned ships no less eager to sell their lives dearly than the drones.

...and after fifteen heart-wrenching moments, some cost-loss ratio was met within the advanced tactical network of the drones and the M-5s changed course and opened the range, still escorted by a fragmentary escorting wave of M-3s.

There were gaping holes in that formation. As the last shots struck or, more often, missed it was possible for the command systems of the Camine Real to calculate the price the SLDF had charged.

Ninety-seven M-5s were pulling away. Mostly undamaged, for the wounded among their fleet had acted as a suicidal rear-guard to let their comrades break contact. Only one hundred and four M-3s still played escort and few of them were as lucky.

"Orders, admiral?"

"Pull the heavy ships into the centre of the formation and push our dropships further out," Brandt ordered. "I want a three squadron group of interceptors to shadow the drones from outside their weapons range, in case they try to get out of sensor-lock. There could be a resupply base in the asteroids where they can refuel and reload for another round."

We've killed a third of their Caspars but this is only part of their defences and they've pulled back for a reason, she thought. And we've paid for that. Paid so much.

There had been thirty-one ships in the Twenty-First Strike Squadron and the Thirty-First Battle Squadron that had made up Dokovic's line. Now only nineteen battered ships remained… and SLS Iona wasn't one of them.

.o0O0o.

FSS Tancredi, Al Na'ir System

Lockdale Province, Terran Hegemony

18 January 2769

It had taken time to put together a relief force and there were only three squadrons in the grandly named Second Fleet. The original Second Fleet hadn't survived the coup intact and surviving squadrons and divisions had been added to whatever other fleets they were nearest. Still, the designation was available and this was loosely what could be considered the old Second Fleet's operational area.

Vice Admiral Furnshill's Forty-Third Interdiction Squadron had been part of the pre-War Fourth Fleet, familiar with patrolling the Combine's borders. With Al Na'ir positioned on the Hegemony's border they'd at least visited the system within the last decade. That was more than could be said of the 112th Escort Squadron under Vice Admiral Willingham but they'd a lot of experience in the Hyades Cluster with asteroid-dense systems so Admiral Belleau had detached his own 192nd Escort Squadron to take over the convoy support role and put Willingham under Furnshill's command.

And then there's us, Kenneth Jones mused.

FSS Tancredi was still Nike Moore's flagship but a thin fourth band had joined the three broad ones already on her epaulettes after Ozawa, marking promotion to Admiral. In addition to the Arthur and Katherine Davion, two escort divisions had been placed under Moore's command. Long obsolete, the four cruisers and two destroyers couldn't possibly keep pace if Tancredi and her division maneuvered hard but there was no faulting the willingness of the crews.

"The enemy's location is confirmed. We have contact with Admiral Brandt."

"Understood," Jones confirmed. He wasn't privy to the communications, possibly not even Admiral Moore was yet, but the fact that contact had been established was enough to know that at least thus far, matters were following the plan. "Give me the plot."

The tactical display lit up, showing Al Na'ir itself, two ominously crimson clouds of icons indicating the defenders – the remaining drone fleet, predominantly pulled from the jump-point used by Second Fleet to enter the system, and around half their number of manned warships.

Brandt had correctly predicted that the RWN had divided the drones between the two jump-points and brought the un-engaged half to reinforce the inner system once it was clear the half engaging her wouldn't stop Third Fleet from reaching Al Na'ir. Left unguarded, there had been nothing to stop Second Fleet from arriving except a tiny picket force.

Admiral Furnshill's solution to that had answered Jones' questions about the Q-ships that he'd fought in the Ozawa system. The SLN called them Nightwing surveillance ships, pre-League starships equipped with hidden weapons and sensors that had acted as the Hegemony's eyes and ears in the space ways of their neighbours for generations. As such ships became rarer in the Inner Sphere, the Star League had retired most and the few that remained had been out in the Periphery until lately.

Amaris had apparently pulled some out of the mothballed reserve fleet to supplement his own fleet. It was amusing to turn it back on him – the first hint that the pair of Bonaventure-class corvettes had received that all was not well with the new arrival who'd been using IFF signals obtained from the Ozawa wrecks was when jamming cut them off from Al Na'ir and the SLN commander had taken his tiny ship between the two of them, opening up with broadsides while the two of them dared not return fire in case they hit each other.

"Interesting that the Republican ships are staying clear of the drones." Jones focused the display on them for a moment. "There are more than expected, too. And is that a Monsoon battleship in the middle of their formation? Amaris is digging every relic he can find out of mothballs."

"Captain Jones." Nike Moore's face popped up on the flag-bridge display. "Admiral Brandt has decided on OpPlan Gradient. Are our fighters ready?"

Jones looked over at Weiss Plains' position and then nodded. "I hope her ships are ready."

"I'm assured of clear decks at their end."

The Commodore winced at the implication of how depleted Third Fleet's aerospace complement must be. "Then we can launch as soon as the word is given."

"Do it."

"Commodore Plains. Launch your birds for OpPlan Gradient." The situation called for a little formality, in his view.

"Sir." Plains adjusted her headset and gave the necessary commands. Almost immediately the tiny specs of friendly fighters began forming up ahead of not only the Tancredi but her escorts. Only two squadrons were being held back – the Baron-class destroyers FSS John Lennon and FSS William Shakespeare only carried six fighters each and it had been agreed that integrating them into the wings of other ships could cause confusion so they'd remain as a marginal combat aerospace patrol for the FSN squadron. Otherwise the combined aero-wings of all nine warships and twenty-two dropships were being committed.

Over six hundred Federated Suns fighters began to slowly pull away from their carriers as Moore's squadron continued to decelerate from their run in-system. Furnshill's own ships were launching their half of the operation, although even with their own Titan dropships, they couldn't match the FSN's contribution.

"All Song-class ships report no problems with the launches," Plains reported.

"Not bad for their first big outing," replied Jones. The Song-class was intended as one of a series of home-built battalion transports for the AFFS. Unfortunately production hadn't been ready for the war and even the ships attached to Moore's squadron weren't complete – the desperate need for naval support during the initial liberation efforts had had the first dozen outfitted for carrier operations only and sent to the frontlines.

Some of those now in service were fully fitted out, but this would be the first time in Jones' experience of using them that they'd managed to launch all their fighters without a catapult failure.

On the display, Third Fleet were manoeuvring to bypass Al Na'ir – OpPlan Gradient explicitly gave up on trying to reclaim the world for now – and the drones were moving to block them. The Rim Worlders were also moving, but much more tentatively.

"Those fellows don't seem to want to get to grips," Moore noted as they watched the fleets manoeuvre.

Jones waggled his head from side to side. "They've been told how massively superior the Caspars are to manned ships, but Third Fleet's destroyed three of the drones for every warship they've lost. If I was them I'd want to finish grinding down the SLDF before getting to grips with myself."

"It's stupid – they'd lose most of their drones even if they won."

"Better drones than their lives. After the last few weeks, the last thing they'd want to do is engage the SLDF with their current force strength – they don't even have a two-to-one numerical advantage."

The truth was that Brandt's ships and their valiant crews were almost spent. Half her ships had been destroyed in combat or scuttled due to damage. According to her reports, not one warship had avoided damage over the continued clashes since entering Al Na'ir. Few battles had been as large as the first but a succession of smaller attacks had eaten away at ammunition and fuel as much as they had armour and drives. They had one fight left in them… maybe. And by the time the drones behind them had been destroyed, it had been easier to commit to punching through the inner system to the jump point beyond that than it would have been to turn around.

As ever in a large battle, time seemed to crawl. Jones kept one eye on the tactical display and pulled up routine paperwork. Some of it might not matter by the time this encounter was done with but better to have it out of the way. And besides, looking calm was part of his job now.

The defenders were treating the inbound relief force with lordly disdain – they were too far away, after all. Simply by slowing down to reach Al Na'ir in something approaching useful combat speeds they'd ensured they'd arrive well after Third Fleet. No, better to finish off the original enemy and then handle the new arrivals.

One advantage of the drones over manned warships was that unlike the Republican fleet they never neglected to watch all directions. Thus, they were the first to spot the inbound fighters and begin adjusting their screening elements.

It was too late of course, but they did manage it.

Moving well above normal combat speeds, more than a thousand aerospace fighters slashed through the drone's formation, carefully drawn into position by Brandt's manoeuvres. Whether it was the fault of the SDS command centre on the surface of Al Na'ir or the drones themselves, their positioning had turned out to be a little predictable.

At this huge closing speed, any shot that hit them was virtually guaranteed to destroy the fighters, but by the same virtue it was almost impossible for such a hit to be scored. And as they crossed the formation, each fighter launched the nuclear missile they were carrying.

Almost eighty percent of the missiles were off-target. Some were fired too soon, others too late. In the vastness of space, some simply didn't lock onto the ship desired (although due to pilot error or sheer luck, four of the Caspars and one M-3 took direct hits from missiles not intended for them).

But that still meant that two hundred missiles did score hits and their targets were six ships that had subtly different electronic signatures. Third Fleet had had weeks to isolate those distinctions and the data had been sent via their on-board HPGs back to Second Fleet.

Six M-5C drones, carrying the computers that knit the drone fleet into a single cohesive whole, each struck by at least twenty nuclear weapons. In four cases at least one missile punched through the armoured hull and detonated inside the hulls, explosions tearing back outwards with all the subtlety of an axe. One was adrift – hull and weapons largely intact but the massive thruster array at the stern melted to uselessness by multiple warheads. And the last emerged from a cloud of wreckage, under power and fully armed despite the great craters blasted into its armour… but blind and helpless for every sensor and communications array across its hull had been scoured away the fury of the missiles.

Not stopping to see the results of their work, the fighters streaked onwards and only when they were well clear of the drones did they begin applying their thrusters to the vital task of slowing down to rendezvous with Third Fleet. Each fighter had been chosen for this – Sparrowhawks and Centurions that could provide the brutal seventy plus mps-squared delta-v necessary.

"Fourteen losses," Plains reported quietly.

"Regrettable, but necessary." Jones studied the screen. There was already raggedness to the formation of the drones. "They'll still fight, they'll fight hard. But now they'll fight as individuals not as a co-ordinated force."

Admiral Moore nodded. "And we'll fight too. Admiral Furnshill has ordered her carrier dropships to form on us and to keep the range open. I've detached our escort divisions to support her in the main thrust."

Third Fleet had altered course now, taking advantage of the drones' disorder. Now they'd slingshot around Al Na'ir's largest moon while Third Fleet used the planet itself. They'd briefly bracket the Rim Worlders between them and then be directed back outwards towards the jump point.

"After the return pass we'll need to fall back on conventional strikes," Jones warned. "Third Fleet can't give our fighters the needed boost except during the slingshot."

The M-5 drones were already recognising the changed circumstances, one at a time, and changing course. The M-3 drones escorting them apparently found a different solution and accelerated towards Al Na'ir's moon to attempt an interception at during the sling-shot. Jones checked the direction of the Caspars and nodded. "Divide and conquer – the M-5 drones know they can't intercept Brandt now, so they're changing course to engage Third Fleet instead."

Moore shrugged. "That's an acceptable risk. Furnhill's fleet is fresh and now they don't have their command ships. Can they engage us?"

Jones didn't have to run the calculations, he'd already checked. "Not if we move to fifteen or twenty mps-squared – which our ships can take easily. Crews won't like it but…"

"Better than dead," his commander shrugged. "Do it."

.o0O0o.

Terra Prime, Apollo

Apollo Province, Rim Worlds Republic

29 January 2769

"Third Fleet made it out with thirty operational ships, by a very generous appreciation of operational," DeChevilier reported grimly. "Nine of the losses were ramming by M-3 drones, including the Camino Real. Four thousand tons at that sort of closing speed isn't survivable, even by a battleship."

Kerensky nodded slowly. "We knew the Space Defense Systems would be a problem. I don't think we appreciated quite how bad it would be. How about Second Fleet?"

"Twenty-seven ships and I think their repair estimates are more realistic." The Deputy Commanding General made a face. "Six of the losses were FSN ships, two with all hands. It's a fraction of the whole but…"

"That's almost a tenth of their warship strength."

"Seems to be a tradition. Remember Tentativa, back in the Reunification War?"

"Not the same at all," the smaller man said sharply. "Tentativa was a defeat. This is a victory, albeit at terrible cost."

"We didn't take Al Na'ir. Fourteen battalions of troops destroyed aboard their transports – half a division in practical terms. Victory?"

"Losses have been worse against Castles Brian here and in the Hegemony." Kerensky drew himself up and forced himself to add: "And they will continue to be high. Seventy-two warships destroyed and more than fifty in need of repairs is a high price to pay but the enemy losses were much higher. Almost three hundred M-5 drones and as many M-3s, the Republican fleet too battered to pursue."

"They held the system," DeChevilier chided him. "And Joan Brandt…"

"We cannot afford a defeat, so we cannot call it that." The general rubbed his brow. "John Davion is familiar with… flexible objectives. This was a reconnaissance in force, a testing of the SDS so that we may prepare for operations in the future. In destroying so many drones and gathering invaluable intelligence data, Joan succeeded brilliantly."

"…yes sir."

"Posthumously, she will receive the Medal of Valour."

"Her husband is on New Earth, by last report."

"Yes, Admiral Peterson's son. One of the old naval dynasties. Hopefully he has avoided Amaris' commissars."

DeChevilier thought of his own family. Intelligence from within the Hegemony had reported the creation of a new government agency, the Office of Policy and Doctrine. It was an innocuous name for a paramilitary force of nebulous mission. At least part of its purpose was rounding up SLDF personnel still at large on Amaris-held worlds – and they drew little line between active personnel, the retired… or dependent families. "So we all pray."

They stood together, where Stefan Amaris or at least one of his high ministers must have stood at one time or another, sharing in that ugly mood without words.

"You've decided to leave Davion in command then?" asked DeChevilier mildly.

"He was her formal deputy and so long as he doesn't try to take field command, I think he will do well. Baptiste will remain ground commander, after all."

"And the navy? Belleau is senior."

"He's a good man, yes… I would like to promote Janos Grec but Belleau is ready for more responsibility." Kerensky frowned. "It would not do to hold him back. You can manage him."

"Me?"

"Yes. We will need a few months to finish reducing the last strongholds of the Republicans but the time has come to look towards opening a second front in the Hegemony. When that time comes, I want you to be in command of our thrust out of the Suns."

"I could take a ship now. Follow our supply lines as far as Skye and cut across Marik's space with a battle squadron. He'd not dare stop me and we need to reinforce the fleets under Davion's Army Group."

"In time, yes. But firstly I need you here to help me prepare our strategy and we must consider how the SDS drones can be better dealt with. Even one ship for every four of them is a price we cannot afford – there were almost seven thousand M-5 drones across the Hegemony and production of M-3 drones is distressingly easy, Amaris could build almost any number of them." Kerensky shook his head. "We must devise a method first and then… and then you will depart."

"You're trusting him with a quarter of the SLDF." DeChevilier laughed bitterly. "Well, a quarter of what remains."

"He is an honourable man."

"So was Brutus."

The Commanding General of the SLDF shook his head. "He is no Brutus, much less a Caesar, Aaron. His ambitions, such as they are, are for the Star League first, his own realm next and only then for himself. He is a rare ally in these times."

"Rare? Yes, I will agree that allies are rare birds these days. But that's a low bar. We've almost had more help from the damned Taurians than we've had from Kenyon Marik - and it's been two years and Minoru Kurita hasn't said a damn word to you. Not one word!"

Kerensky nodded wearily. "Yet nor has he hindered those who have come of their own will to help us. Remember that."

"Oh yes, the ronin, the masterless men who've been duelling ours for a century and who the Kuritas have piously protested they cannot restrain. Well, he's no hypocrite, I'll grant him that much. Who else is there? The Archon, who won't help us for spite of you? The Chancellor, who won't help us for spite of the First Prince." DeChevilier seemed to run down. "I don't know, Alek. I think he's the best of a bad bunch, but I can't help but think he's known more about what was going on than he's ever told us."

"Let me name another for your list. Lucien Dormax, who is trying desperately to hold the Rim Worlds together for us."

"And you don't think he's ambitious? He needs us. God, and when we embark for Terra what happens here? He's only clinging to power because of us and the people who've joined us here don't love the League, they just hate Amaris. If we pull out entirely there'll be a firestorm."

"We won't pull out entirely." Kerensky shook his head. "We'll need the supplies from here, the facilities. The money, to be brutally honest. At least two armies will need to remain here to hold matters together."

"You're probably right, but that'll mean we need to weaken some of the garrison armies to reinforce the troops on the frontlines."

His commander gave him a wan smile. "That's the thinking I need at my side right now. Twelve months, Aaron. John Davion will do us no wrong in that time. And if it makes Minoru Kurita and Barbara Liao nervous, that may not be such a bad thing. When they have done half so much for us as House Davion has in this terrible time, then I shall treat their complaints seriously."