The Short End: Broken Galaxy Book Four

by Phil Huddleston

  But it won’t fool them, thought Bonnie.

  Her thought was almost instantly echoed by Luke.

  “They’ve seen this before,” he said. “They’ve raided us so many times, we’re running out of maneuvers.”

  “That’s the idea, I expect,” replied Bonnie. “They’ll keep raiding us, learning more and more about our response, until Garatella’s reinforcements arrive. Then they’ll finally have enough ships to make a proper attack.”

  Luke nodded. He scanned his console, looking for any surprises behind them. But he didn’t expect any. The EDF had eight corvettes scattered around the system, watching every move the Ashkelon made. Not to mention dozens of fighter patrols that went out every day, scanning the distant reaches of the system for any mischief by the enemy. If there had been another force behind the EDF to take them in the rear, they would have received warning long before this.

  “Fighters coming out,” called Lieutenant Emma Gibbs at the Tac Console. Bonnie nodded acknowledgment. She could see small blue icons representing friendly fighters flowing out of the sortie decks of the EDF battlecruisers and cruisers, forming up into their flights and squadrons, taking a vector directly toward the enemy. They would pass through her own destroyer formation in a matter of seconds, going out to meet the Ashkelon head-on - the tip of the spear.

  And she knew who would be leading them - Jim Carter. Rita’s husband, and the CAG - Commander Attack Group - for the EDF.

  And her former lover. The man she would never get over, even though she had lost him long ago.

  She couldn’t help the thought. Lord, keep Jim safe.

  Almost as soon as she thought it, the Ashkelon began launching their own fighters, hundreds of them spewing out of the enemy capital ships, forming up in front of their fleet.

  The first squadrons of EDF fighters flashed through her cube, accelerating at 300g to get to the enemy. She could have issued a brief command to highlight Jim’s fighter and watch him throughout the battle, but she didn’t. It was better not to know. She couldn’t imagine what she would do, how she would react, if he were killed while she watched.

  Better to ignore him and go about her business.

  She couldn’t help but wonder about Rita. She supposed Rita would be the same, ignoring personal issues to focus on the battle. In fact, she was sure of it - for Rita was one of the most cold-blooded people she knew.

  That’s why she’s the Admiral.

  “Enemy destroyers in range in sixty seconds,” called Emma.

  Bonnie re-focused all her attention on the holo. Well out in front of them now, the EDF fighter formations met the enemy fighters, both sides unleashing everything they had in a whirlwind of gamma lance and missile fire. Bonnie saw many fighters take damage, with some spinning out of control, some burning from internal combustibles mixing with the air of their oxygen systems, pilots ejecting, the flashing orange blips of emergency beacons cluttering up the holo.

  With a deft touch, Emma Gibbs reached to her Tactical console and hid the emergency beacons. There would be time enough for that after the fight.

  “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Fire,” called Emma.

  The high-pitched, nerve-scraping whine of the gamma lance sang through the bridge, a noise that always sent shivers down Bonnie’s back.

  The energy spear reached out toward an enemy destroyer, centered on its engineering space. As if by magic, a hole appeared in the enemy ship. Debris flew wildly out the other side of the enemy destroyer’s hull as the gamma lance punched all the way through. The ship began to veer off course, losing decel.

  The strange effect of losing decel caused it to appear to accelerate, rather than slow. As the enemy ship could no longer decelerate at the same rate as the rest of its fleet, it appeared to shoot out in front of them, an optical illusion that made it appear to be racing away.

  Bonnie ignored it. It was out of action. There were plenty of other targets. She focused on the rest of the enemy fleet. Emma had already selected another enemy destroyer. Dragon yawed slightly as it re-targeted. The fat tube of the gamma lance in the front of the destroyer made a second nerve-grating whine. The beam licked out at another enemy ship. It just missed as the enemy made a wild evasive maneuver, and Emma let loose a word that Bonnie had never heard come out of her mouth before.

  “Emma!” grinned Bonnie at the young Lieutenant, in mock horror.

  “Sorry, mum,” smiled Emma. “But I thought I had him for sure!”

  Merlin Fighter “Angel One”

  “Angel Squadron, break left!” yelled Commander Jim Carter. A large flurry of missiles from the enemy destroyers came at him. He followed his own advice, rolling to the left and pulling the sidestick back against the stop, trying to get to a slight hole in the array of missiles bearing down on him.

  The g-meter on his instrument panel flicked instantly to 308g true, 8g internal. The inertia compensator could offset the g-force up to 300g - but beyond that, the pilot felt the full effects of the excess. The force of eight times his body weight smashed him down into the heavily reclined seat of the Merlin fighter as he exceeded the compensator limits. Jim huffed and grunted in his pressure suit to maintain consciousness. The frame of the Merlin groaned under the forces acting on it.

  The Merlin’s AI automatically spat wads of chaff and flares into the void of space behind him, the countermeasures launcher making a “chuff-chuff-chuff” sound audible in the cockpit. In the VR that painted the entire interior of his cockpit, Jim could see several missiles arcing around as they tried to stay with him, their little AI brains not giving up.

  And then it was over. The missiles streaked by him, a blur in the “reality” of the VR. They continued on their way into the void, looking for other targets. Jim saw Merlins behind him jinking violently to avoid the missiles, chaff spraying out of them.

  Good luck, guys.

  But Jim had other fish to fry. His AI had already selected a fat cruiser just a couple of thousand klicks in front of him. The weapons button on his sidestick was blinking red, indicating the AI had the target locked and was ready to fire. Jim punched it, and eight missiles departed the stub wings on the side of the Merlin, all of them accelerating toward the enemy cruiser at 2,500g. They would arrive in four seconds - if the enemies’ point defense cannon didn’t pick them off first.

  Jim watched as two, then four, then seven of his missiles were knocked down by the pulse cannon of the enemy cruiser and its accompanying destroyers. Then he grunted in satisfaction - his final missile broke through their point defense and punched into the cruiser’s starboard engine nacelle, making a large and satisfying explosion. At first, the cruiser continued as if nothing had happened. But then Jim saw a fire start in the hole left by his missile as the internal atmosphere of the warship leaked out.

  “Burn, baby, burn!” he yelled in glee.

  The cruiser veered off, breaking formation, and turning away from the battle. Jim punched the air in celebration, then dismissed the cruiser - it was no longer a threat.

  Then, reality bit. He was far out in front of his Wing, exposed. He had no business being in the front of the attack, and he knew it. After all, he was the CAG. He should be either back on the Merkkessa, directing the Wing from the safety of the Ops center, or at the very least hovering in his Merlin well behind the rest of his fighters.

  Rita will have a cow about this, he smiled grimly. I’m in for a real dressing-down. I know better.

  But I’m so tired of these fuckers raiding us.

  With a sigh, Jim turned the Merlin and headed away from the enemy. He assessed the overall picture in his VR and decided there was nothing immediate he needed to do. His Wing knew their business, and they were doing it.

  On his relative right, Merlin Attack Group One Five - MAG-15 - was heavily engaged with a pack of enemy fighters, pushing them back toward their line of cruisers. Above him, MAG-12 was doing the same to another gaggle of enemy fighters, punching holes in their line, driving them back.

 
But to his relative left and below, his third attack group, MAG-10, was having a tougher time of it. They were evenly matched. The enemy fighters were conserving their missiles, holding position - which was not good.

  It was not good because Jim could see a second enemy fighter squadron sneaking around the dogfight, with full racks of missiles. In less than a minute, that second enemy squadron would have the EDF cube of cruisers in their range, and the enemy fighters would launch missiles at the capital ships. That was the precise scenario Jim’s fighters were tasked to prevent.

  Jim punched his finger directly on the cockpit wall, touching the enemy squadron that represented the threat. “Angel, designate target here. Angel Squadron engage now, now, now!”

  Destroyer Dragon

  “Skipper, we’ve got a breakaway squadron of fighters at down-right, looks like they’re trying to make an end-run around us and get to the cruisers,” called Emma.

  “Are they in range?” wondered Bonnie.

  “No, mum, we’d have to break formation to get to them. But…wait…there goes a squadron of Merlins at them. They see them now.”

  Bonnie assessed the holo quickly. She could see the breakaway group of enemy fighters, well down and to the relative right of her destroyer cube, trying to get past a group of Merlins heavily engaged just in front of them. But now another squadron of Merlins was streaking toward them, accelerating at 308g. Quickly assessing the relative vectors painted in the holo, she saw the Merlins would intercept the enemy fighters before they could get to the cruisers.

  “We’ll leave them be, Emma,” she responded. “Looks like the Merlins have them corralled now.”

  And right at that moment, Bonnie gave in. She couldn’t resist. She shot a mental command to her AI.

  Dragon, designate Wing Commander in holo.

  Instantly, one of the Merlins in the holo began flashing in alternate colors of blue and white, showing her where Jim Carter was located.

  And as Bonnie somehow knew he would be, Jim was leading the charge of his squadron, intercepting the breakaway group of enemy fighters.

  Bonnie sighed in both relief and frustration. Relief that he was still alive, and frustration that he couldn’t stay in the rear of the fight like a Wing Commander ought to be doing.

  The thought came unbidden to her mind.

  If I were Rita, I’d fire him.

  It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. She had to worry about other things right now.

  Dragon, stop designation of Wing Commander.

  Slightly ahead and to the right of Bonnie’s seat at his XO console, Luke monitored the vast array of warships and missiles in the holo. He let Emma at Tactical handle 95% of the work, designating targets and helping the WEPS AI manage the point-defense pulse cannon to fend off incoming missiles. His job was to maintain a high-level view of the battlefield, ensuring that if Emma missed something, he picked it up and took care of it.

  So he had noticed the momentary highlighting of Jim Carter’s fighter, quickly flashing in the holo, then just as quickly disappearing.

  And he knew who had highlighted it. His captain - and his lover.

  She still thinks about him, Luke thought. Even in the middle of a battle, she still thinks about him.

  I guess she’ll think about him forever.

  “Incoming!” yelled Emma at Tac.

  Luke focused on his business, helping Emma tune the point defense system to fight off the inbound missiles. Between the WEPS AI, Emma’s adjustments, and his tuning, all but one of the missiles were intercepted. But one leaked through, and at the last second the WEPS AI automatically pulled Dragon up hard, exceeding the comp limits and crushing them down into their seats for a second. The incoming missile hit them precisely in the belly armor. It caused a tremendous crash and lurch but did little real damage.

  Luke glanced up at Bonnie. “Sorry about that, Skipper. Let one get away from us.”

  Bonnie gave a fake scowl. “No soup for you!” she called.

  Merlin Fighter “Angel One”

  The throttle was against the stop. Jim’s Merlin was accelerating at 308g true toward the breakaway group of enemy fighters - an acceleration that would kill a pilot, under normal circumstances. Inside the Merlin, however, Jim felt only 8g - the Merlin’s inertia compensator offsetting the first 300g of acceleration.

  Still, in spite of the compensator, the force of eight times his body weight had Jim pinned to his seat. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. But he was determined to get to the enemy - so he clenched his teeth and bore the pain.

  However, the Ashkelon squadron spoiled his plan. Realizing they were going to be caught in a crossfire between the massive point defense of the cruisers in front of them, and Jim’s squadron coming in behind them, the enemy fighters broke off their attack. They slanted off toward empty space, away from the battle. Then they accelerated to 310g, confident their massive Ashkelon bodies could withstand more g-force than the puny Humans.

  Oh no you don’t, thought Jim, I didn’t come all the way out here just to watch you run away…

  “Angel, send the rest of the squadron home. Then override g-limiter to 12g positive and accelerate to 312g true,” Jim called to his AI.

 

  Jim’s throttle was already against the stop, acceleration limited by the AI. Now the Merlin accelerated smoothly to 312g true. Inside the cockpit, the elephant sitting on Jim’s chest turned into two. He could no longer breathe except by forcing the air in and out of his chest with savage grunts of pain. Behind him, the rest of his flight - including his wingman - fell away as they vectored off to RTB - Return To Base. Jim, alone, continued to pursue the enemy formation, now moving farther and farther away from the battle behind him.

  The edges of his vision started to tunnel - a great black circle, like a camera stopping down, began coming in from the periphery of his vision.

  But he was almost there - almost in range. Another few seconds…

  …he huffed, trying to get air into his lungs…

  …just a few more seconds…

  The blackness was closing in…

  Suddenly the pressure was released slightly. The black ring in his vision began to dissipate. Jim saw the red light blinking on his sidestick.

 

  He punched the button. His last eight missiles departed their tracks on the stub wings, running hot and true toward the enemy squadron in front of him.

 

  As the g-force disappeared, Jim felt blessed relief. He was able to suck a huge breath of air into his tortured lungs. As he took a second deep breath, his missiles completed their short, 4-second flight to the enemy, an enemy that consisted of fighters wildly jinking in all directions as they tried to avoid his missiles.

  And he yelled in exultation as he got three hits - three massive explosions, taking out three of the enemy fighters.

  “Gotcha, you bastards!” he crowed, raising his hands in glee.

  And then the remaining enemy fighters pirouetted on their axes, facing back toward him. 208 perfectly functional enemy missiles were looking right at him.

  “Crap!” Jim yelled. “Get us out of here, Angel!”

  The g-forces came back in suddenly as the Merlin’s AI vectored hard away, trying to put distance between the pissed-off enemy and Jim’s now very lonely fighter. He was far from his fleet, and far from his squadron. He would be in range of the enemy behind him for a few more seconds. It would be close.

  His AI, automatically computing the accel required to escape the enemy, slammed him back into the seat at the full internal 12g allowable. He couldn’t breathe. The black ring started coming in from the periphery of his vision. Then the ring of black came all the way in, and everything went away.

  Chapter Three

  Ashkelon
System - Planet Deriko

  Battlecruiser Merkkessa

  Rita was about as pissed off as she ever got.

  People called her cold, emotionless - a calculating machine. But she wasn’t, not deep down inside. Deep inside, Admiral Rita Page was giving in to hatred at the moment. A deep, abiding hatred of the enemy. The enemy who threatened Earth. But more personally, the enemy who threatened her fleet.

  And there was one particular enemy she hated most of all - Admiral Zukra. The arrogant dictator of the Ashkelon Empire. The seven-foot-tall creature who looked like a strange amalgamation of a Human and a lion, with his predator ears on top of his head, his vestigial claws on two fingers of each hand, and the thin but noticeable coat of yellow-gold hair covering his skin.

  Zukra. He was the one who harassed them. He was the one who sent out these raids periodically, ensuring there would be no peace for the Humans who were still desperately trying to repair their ships after the Battle of Deriko.

  Zukra.

  As a rule, Rita avoided emotion in her decisions and actions. She was Admiral of the Black - the supreme commander of the Earth Defense Fleet. Her reputation as a calm, pragmatic leader was well-earned. She knew what the spacers called her.

  The Ice Queen. Or sometimes…the Ice Bitch.

  But people saw only the outside. Inside, she did occasionally let herself go. And this was one of those times, as she watched the Ashkelon raid come on, almost within range of her capital ships now.

  Zukra.

  I hate that bastard.

  I want to kill that son of a bitch.

  But Rita knew Zukra would be safe on Ridendo, the Ashkelon home planet, 0.6 AU away. 90 million kilometers closer to the star than her current position at Deriko. Tucked into his palace in Mosalia, the capital city of the Ashkelon Empire.