A grimm sacrifice a mili.., p.1
A Grimm Sacrifice: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Grimm's War Book 4), page 1
A GRIMM SACRIFICE
©2022 JEFFERY H. HASKELL
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ALSO IN SERIES
AGAINST ALL ODDS
WITH GRIMM RESOLVE
ONE DECISIVE VICTORY
A GRIMM SACRIFICE
KNOW THY ENEMY
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Last Stand on Kremlin Station
James S. Aaron
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Also in Series
Thank you for reading A Grimm Sacrifice
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CONSORTIUM SPACE. PRAETOR SYSTEM. 2APR2935 0805HRS
Consortium Navy Rear Admiral Endo stood above the holographic table, glaring daggers at the map of the six systems the emperor had charged him to protect, willing the Caliphate to attack the one he was in. Instead, reports of heavily armed raiders arrived from the systems south, toward the rim, away from the wormhole.
The wormhole.
He glanced at the panoramic display showing the binary star coupling of Praetor. He didn’t pretend to know all the science, but something about the pulsar, white dwarf, and gamma radiation made the wormhole possible. When it was first discovered, excitement spread throughout the galaxy like wildfire. Everyone who could field a ship and a space time detector went looking for the next great discovery.
No one had struck gold yet. Two years seemed like a long time to come up empty, but then again, the man who discovered the first one spent his entire life looking. After all, it was a big galaxy. Maybe there were only a few?
While Professor Bellaits was a hero to the people of the Consortium and Alliance, he hadn’t taken any compensation. He did, however, find himself enough funding to put state-of-the-art outposts on both sides of the wormhole for scientific study. Part of the reason Endo was there in the first place was to oversee security while the one on his side was built. Not to mention the rampant buildup of infrastructure to support the new traffic coming through the system.
Endo didn’t know if the wormhole was a blessing or a curse. There was nothing to be done about it but defend the system and the cargo ships passing through. Cargo his people desperately needed to keep their economy growing so they could afford to fight the impending war.
To keep the goods flowing and protect his people, he had three squadrons of the most advanced heavy cruisers his people could build. Nine ships in total, each in its own right capable of inflicting brutal amounts of punishment to an enemy ship foolish enough to close with them. With six systems to defend, he’d chosen to remain in Praetor where the wormhole opened to the Alliance. Which was proving to be a mistake.
He couldn’t leave the wormhole undefended. He knew, without a doubt, the Caliphate would attack the moment he did.
Three of his ships, including his own, Star Phoenix, had to remain on station to deter such a move. That left him six ships to defend five systems.
He scrolled through the reports from the planets under his protection that were enduring raids and assaults. Nothing constant, just infrequent and random enough that he couldn’t justify leaving the wormhole undefended.
Everything had its cost, though. With the Consortium able to call for help, and the Caliphate that much closer to attacking the Alliance, the regime of slavery stepped up their raids, enslaving his people and bombing their planets. The Consortium government wasn’t in a position to declare war on Hamid, not when the Caliphate had three times the manpower and a twice as many ships.
With the new influx of revenue and the ability to call on the Alliance, the Consortium Emperor and parliament had upped military spending and were busy charging forward with the most ambitious building program Rear Admiral Endo had seen in his life. In another six months, they would half the Caliphate’s advantage.
Any move against the Consortium had to start with the Bella Wormhole. If the Caliphate attacked and didn’t secure this side of the passageway, then the Alliance would come to the Consortium’s aid. Which was why the Caliphate navy’s behavior vexed him so.
In three months of heightened tension between Consortium and Caliphate forces, not a single enemy ship had entered the three systems surrounding the wormhole where he placed his squadrons. Report after report, though, told a much different story for Uryu, Ayama, and Tein. He mourned the losses at the first two, but the third one was untenable.
Tein’s taxes represented a tenth of the Consortium’s total revenue. Since the wormhole opened, the luxurious vacation planet had steadily increased in value. For the first time since they settled the Perseus arm, people could come and learn about his culture and experience it for themselves. Before the wormhole, no tourist in their right mind would brave the Corridor. Bella had turned a dangerous, monthslong journey into about an hour, bringing more goods, people, and opportunities to the Consortium. Almost overnight, his nation had doubled their GDP.
Endo hated himself for thinking of money over lives, especially after what his grandniece had endured. If it weren’t for the Alliance Marines rescuing her, he would never have known what had happened. As much as he wished to split his forces and defend all three, he simply couldn’t. Tein had to be his priority.
His perfectly pressed blue uniform felt suddenly tight around his chest. Since his arrival, he’d fought to keep his forces together, to avoid scattering them. Concentrated, it would take more than a few ships to dislodge him from Praetor. Even if the Caliphate sent a full-strength battlegroup, their losses would be severe.
Were they planning a surprise, then? Focusing on systems almost five days away to make sure he left the wormhole lightly defended? Or were they upping their raids because they knew he wouldn’t leave the wormhole, thus allowing them to reap his people as profit. It sickened him to his core that the Caliphate considered Consortium women to be the “best” in the galaxy. If it were up to him, they would have already gone to war. Better to die in defense of his people than live knowing they were captured and sold as slaves.
At times like these, Admiral Endo regretted his navy’s focus on heavily armed and armored ships, and wished they had more light units for patrol.
Light units might just be the key.
He pressed the comm stud in his ear.
“Yes, Admiral?” his executive officer replied.
“Hiro, I want you to dispatch CruRon 17 and 18 to Tien. ConCru 11 will remain here. We need to stop the raids with a heavy fist.”
“Aye aye, sir. I will proceed with those orders immediately. Anything else?”
Endo decided to try. The worst they could do was say no.
“Yes, I want you to prepare a dispatch to the Alliance Ambassador on Zuckabar.”
“Ready to record.”
“Ambassador Earle, request light units ahead of schedule. Send whatever you can spare to Praetor with all haste. Message ends.”
“I’ll send it with the next transit, sir.” Hiro paused for a moment. “Uh, sir, are things really that bad that we need the Alliance?”
It was the question of the hour. What Endo needed was intelligence on where the enemy was. They had more forces massed than the ones attacking, so where were they?
“I hope not, Hiro. I hope not.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE NEW PALISADES, ALEXANDRIA. ALLIANCE. 10APR2935 1100HRS
Fleet Admiral Noele Villanueva glared at her NavPad as if she could make the information change by a sheer act of will. If that were the case, though, she would be on the flag bridge of USS Alexander, leading the Navy to victory over the Caliphate.
She had three active battle groups available to her, with the fourth battleship perpetually awaiting refit. Sighing, she changed the screen, moving away from the depressing report from Congress letting her know there wasn’t enough room in the budget to complete Enterprise’s repairs. It was bad enough the penny pinchers were desperate to decommission their oldest battleship without replacing her first, but they wouldn’t even let Noele finish her refit.
“Admiral?” Chief of Staff Leilani Kahale waved to get her attention. “The president is running late. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience, but it will just be a few more minutes,” she said.
Noele gave the dark-skinned woman a tight-lipped smile and a nod. There wasn’t much President Axwell would likely do, regardless. Noele was simply out of options. The Consortium request for light units had arrived that very morning. If she hustled, she could peel three or four destroyers out of the available pool and send them to Admiral Endo’s aid on the other side of the wormhole. But the Consortium had requested an entire battlegroup, and Noele almost laughed aloud at the thought of sending one. The SECNAV and CNO would never go for it. Not ever.
She needed the president’s permission to override them. Which was why, on a sunny morning with the birds singing, she was at the residence of her CIC.
What she would really like to do was send Alexander, but without a declaration of war from Congress that was never going to happen. With the Consortium and Caliphate at near war levels of conflict, she could use their treaties to hammer Congress into doing more, but only just.
A bird flew by the window, casting a momentary shadow over her. At least with all that was happening, the land around The New Palisades rehabilitated rapidly. Green grass spread out for hundreds of meters in every direction, ending up against tall trees to block the wind. If she closed her eyes, the memories of what Anchorage Bay used to look like could almost replace the nightmare it had turned into after the Caliphate nuked it from orbit.
Had they not been so eager to decapitate the seat of power, the stealth ship could have spread nuclear fire over a dozen cities and murdered ten times as many people. Instead, they spent their entire payload on Anchorage Bay. It was pure luck that the president, herself, and several key members of Congress were out of the system at the time. Otherwise, they might have achieved their goals.
If not for a certain destroyer commander, they might even have attacked again. A commander she was desperate to promote and put in charge of something more significant, with more responsibility. In the meantime, though, the best she could do was to get his crew out into the Navy as a whole and spread their experience, and by extension, his ethics, around. If she could find a way to put Grimm in a squadron, then she could use any success he achieved as a way to move him off Interceptor into a cruiser. They needed him. What she wouldn’t give to have him on the bridge of a bat—
“Admiral? The president will see you now,” Leilani said from the partially open door, interrupting the admiral’s thoughts.
Noele stood, straightening her uniform and making sure she looked every bit the fierce fleet admiral. It was hard enough getting what she wanted out of politicians; the last thing she needed was to appear weak in front of them.
Leilani held the heavy oaken door for her as she walked through. Noele didn’t miss a beat as she scanned the room, marched right to the president’s desk, and saluted. It wasn’t strictly necessary, and she wouldn’t have done it if not for the presence of the Secretary of the Navy, and Speaker of the House Bradford from Seabring.
If there was anyone in all the Alliance that was dead set on dismantling her Navy, it was those two men. If only Bradford had stayed on Alexandria. She chided herself for the thought. It was unworthy of her. While he opposed her politically, he was a member of the duly elected civilian leadership. For her ideals about society to work, the military must be under civilian control. She just disliked this civilian in particular.
“At ease, Noele,” President Axwell said.
She turned, nodded to the other two men, and only then noticed Senator Talmage St. John in the far corner. The New Austin native gave her his trademark tip of his non-existent hat.
Inwardly, she sighed in relief, knowing she had at least one ally in the room. With St. John’s help, she and Wit DeBeck had managed to trick the senate into annexing Zuckabar. For a brief time after the wormhole was discovered, they were politically untouchable. Things in politics, though, moved quickly, and that major win had faded since the attack on Alexandria.
SECNAV Russo smiled tightly at her as she passed him to sit down. The soft leather couches were comfortable, but they always bothered her because she had to sit forward at attention or feel like she would sink into them. Meanwhile, the SECNAV and the Speaker lounged back as if they were home watching a movie.
That was fine with her. She’d spent her life preparing for combat, and today was no different.
“So tell me, Noele, what can I do for you?” President Axwell asked.
Noele placed her NavPad on the small side table and activated the holographic function. A 3D map of Praetor and the surrounding systems sprang to life. Three green dots and one blue dot blinked softly in the system. For several systems beyond the wormhole, angry red dots sprang to life.
“As we know, sir, the Caliphate has increased its conflict with the Consortium to near-wartime levels. Consortium forces are spread thin over a thirty-system border, and while the wormhole is important, they also have to protect their population centers. With their naval doctrine emphasizing large, powerful units, they are hurting for screening and reconnaissance units. Units we have to spare and can provide. I suggest we—”
