The Fleet 01 by David Drake (ed), Bill Fawcett (ed)

launched a salvo of missiles slightly greater than the first one. These completely obliterated the largest Tripean base on the planet. Lost in the explosion was the planetary commander’s collection of First Empire artwork, including a rare Disney. He allowed himself one minute of personal rage and returned to dispassionately watching the data analysis as it poured in from numerous stations too small to attract the Alliance ship’s attention.
    The second ship, following the same orbit as the first, disappeared behind the moon and also ducked into FTL space.
    The third ship repeated the process exactly, eliminating the last base on Harlan’s World, but then slowed to join the globe of silver and green scouts hovering far behind the moon. Not a single life, Tripean or Alliance, was lost.

    The planetary commander’s report caused a stir on Tripea.
    There had been a good deal of blustering about how defenseless the Alliance was. Now it had struck the first blow. All three advance bases had been completely destroyed. The war faction of the council found this more than embarrassing. The peace faction, primarily the merchants, seized on every detail to frustrate the other side’s future plans. At first the reports were considered exaggerations, particularly in view of the total lack of casualties. Aerial photos showed three craters where the bases had stood.
    Later the data on the bombardment ships was considered to be an error understandably made while under fire. A complete analysis of the telemetry still showed that one ship had somehow launched 150% of its own weight in missiles; reconfirmation was requested. After this was received, the peace party was able to force a cancellation of the imminent attack on McCauley.
    As the debate continued, the peace faction was able to gain a delay in all hostile activities until more could be learned about the forces they were facing. Even the military had to agree with the wisdom of that tactic. It was decided a delegation, supposedly to discuss peace terms and in reality intended to evaluate the Fleet’s potential, was to be sent to McCauley’s World instead. It would be comprised of two intelligence officers and four members of the council, two from each faction.
    A week later, Commodore Meier received the Tripean offer of a high-level meeting on McCauley as if he had been expecting it, which he was. Harlan Kramer exploded at the concept of the intelligence problems this would create. Captain Agberea, getting into the spirit of things, smiled knowingly at the outburst and kept his doubts to himself.

    For the next week Meier busied himself with details. It kept him from wondering if the suspicions of virtually everyone on the base were correct and he was insane. He hoped not, but at times wouldn’t have bet against it. Outwardly he tried very hard to look confident. Occasionally he allowed himself the luxury of muttering vehemently, “tradition,” which was quickly becoming his favorite expletive.
    Three days later Commodore Meier was taken on a personal tour of the building he had designed. The construction officers hung on his every word, hoping for some insight into the purpose of what they had just built. It was referred to by those constructing it as the Fun House. It had taken the total efforts of every construction worker on the base to complete on schedule. Leaving the building, Abe Meier was amused at the reaction of the officers commanding construction when he ordered the walls dirtied and roughened until their shiny new building appeared to have suffered from several years of use and abuse.
    Commodore Meier spent almost all of the next day underground, supervising the completion and capping of the ten tunnels he had ordered dug. That evening he ordered triangles large enough for a cruiser to land in painted on the tarmac, one triangle to stem from the camouflaged manhole at the end of every tunnel. This confused everyone but the marine lieutenant in charge of the base