Page 37 of First Strike

Admiral Sheridan welcomed his last strike force commander to arrive on board his flagship. He then took center stage directly in front of a large screen. Under his command for the liberation of Derra-5 were three strike forces, each one built around a fighter carrier and all of its accompanying fighting and support vessels. In total, he would be leading over one hundred and fifty ships into battle.

  Admiral Sheridan knew the people in the room represented some of the finest officers and master chief petty officers that he had ever served with. He was proud of them all. He cleared his throat and began. “Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us to strike back at the enemy. All across the frontier, our forces have been pushed back. Well, that all ends today. Until now, I have deliberately kept you in the dark as to the real location for our first engagement with the enemy. Some of you may have heard that we are to spearhead an assault on Illum Prime. That, however, is nothing more than a smokescreen to confuse the enemy. Our objective is Derra-5.”

  An image of the planet and the Kurgan Fleet appeared on a massive screen behind him.

  He continued. “Information provided to us indicates that the enemy has two carriers, ten cruisers, and three destroyers as his principal fighting force. There are also dozens of other smaller support vessels in orbit above the planet. When our force ratios are compared, we will have a three to two advantage in combat power.”

  A slender, blonde-haired rear admiral leaned forward so she could be seen. “Sir, those are good odds; however, is there any way we could shave those odds down a little before we go toe-to-toe with the enemy?”

  “Helen, there are, and it will all become clear when Captain Killam, my operations officer, presents our plan of attack. I have named this mission Operation Hammer.”

  Killam, a redheaded man with pockmarked skin on his face stood up, moved over to the lectern, and began his presentation. He spoke for nearly an hour; when he was done, he asked if anyone had any questions. Aside from General Denisov, the ground force commander, forcefully reminding everyone to keep the enemy away from his landing craft, there was no discussion about the plan.

  Admiral Sheridan thanked Killam and walked back to the front of the briefing room. “Folks, this is not to be shared with anyone but your immediate staff and your ships’ captains. The enemy has people spread throughout the fleet. If just one of them discovered what we were up to, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

  For some, it was the first time they had heard about the Kurgan infiltration of the fleet, for others it was confirmation of their suspicions.

  “Before you leave here, I want you all to know that I have ordered the removal of a small number of officers and ratings from some of your ships.”

  “Why did you do that, sir?” queried an officer.

  “Using the database in the fleet’s archives, my chief medical officer has been able to access the medical records of all of the settlers who were reported missing at the end of the last war. Comparing the records of the settlers with those of personnel serving in the Sixth Fleet, he has been able to identify twenty-three possible matches. I have given orders for these people to be quietly relieved of their duties and to be removed from the fleet, post haste.”

  “Surely, this can’t be a foolproof method,” objected the blonde-haired admiral. “Using one-hundred-year-old records is problematic at best.”

  “That is why I ordered this to be done discreetly. As far as these people’s co-workers are concerned, they have been recalled to Earth for urgent medical or personal reasons. If the screening turns out to be false, I will personally apologize to each and every person we have detained. I’d rather be forced to eat crow at a later date than risk losing a single ship to sabotage.”

  “Has Admiral Oshiro been informed?” asked another officer.

  Admiral Sheridan nodded. “He gave me permission to remove the people from their duty stations and to have them sent back to Earth for questioning. In the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, this process will be repeated throughout the entire fleet.”

  A tough-looking master chief asked, “Admiral, can we have the names of the people you have had detained?”

  “Yes. However, I will only provide you with the names of people removed from your ships or Marine units. If I am wrong, I don’t want these people’s reputations being needlessly tarnished. My aide, Commander Roy, has the names. Please see her on your way out, and she will provide you with the names.”

  With that, the meeting ended. Admiral Sheridan watched as his strike force commanders were told who had been removed from their ships. Some shook their heads sadly as if personally betrayed by the actions of the men and women under their command. Others took the information in and quietly carried on.

  General Denisov walked over beside Admiral Sheridan. “Lucky for me, First Armored Division was scheduled for live fire maneuvers when this mission came up. They are already on board their landing craft and will be here in the next five hours. Third Mechanized, an army formation, was cut to my command for the operation. However, it won’t arrive until six hours after we land on Derra-5. If the enemy has been as battered as we have been led to believe, then two full-strength divisions should be enough. For now, I’m planning to keep the Third Marine Division in reserve.”

  “Sounds good, Dimitri,” said Admiral Sheridan distractedly. His mind was elsewhere. He prayed that the general was right. His only son was down there fighting for his life. The sooner they struck, the better as far as he was concerned.

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