“Morning, James,” she greeted his hologram. “Gratz has managed to pull a switch on us. I’m going to cripple his dummies and take the shortest route to join you. Try to avoid being pulled into a major engagement until I can get there. They’ll have an almost two-to-one superiority until then.”
“As you say,” James Heron responded. “Enescu’s fleet has been growing slowly, and now that we’ve been given the tip, we realise that what we were reading as cargo haulers are actually cruisers and destroyers. I’m transmitting my assessment of where they plan to make a stand and draw us in.”
“The area they are most likely heading for could be difficult.”
“It’s a bad spot for us if they can get there first, as they’ll have time to tune out the background from their scanners, and we won’t. So, I’ve sent a little trap of my own ahead of us and them. My minelayers will be there in a couple of hours to mine it. That will force their fleet to shift position, which will give us a small opening to exploit.”
“Good. I’ll be on my way to link up with you in an hour at most. The Third Cruiser Fleet can do the mop-up, and we should be with you in seventy-two hours. Try to keep them guessing until then.”
“Admiral Gratz, good to see you. We will be at the rendezvous in four hours.” Admiral Leandra Enescu’s relief showed as she greeted the holographic image. “I’ve a signal from our Lycania Base confirming the arrival of Heron’s minelayers and smaller escorts.” She grimaced. “It’s not going well there. We’ll have to get a relieving force to them as soon as we can finish off Heron’s fleet.”
“Good. We’ll be at our rendezvous about an hour behind you. Try to keep him guessing until we join you and can pull him into the trap.”
Neither Admiral knew that their forces on Lycania had surrendered. The signal from the planet was from Harry. Nor could they know he was using their system to monitor their communications.
Listening to the latest exchange, Harry made some notes then composed a message to his guardian, Rear Admiral James Heron on the Vanguard. With that sent, he went to find Commander Nielsen.
James Heron studied the scan display from his scout drones scattered among the mines at the expected rendezvous point. It confirmed the information Harry transmitted to him.
“The intel from Lycania was spot on, sir,” remarked his Flag Lieutenant. “Do you want the mines activated?”
“No. I want to make sure their main fleet is in the trap before we show our hand and they haven’t arrived yet.” The Admiral paused. “As soon as we activate them, they’ll show up on their scanners in spite of the background noise. Let them close in and deploy properly.”
“But can we be sure they’ll deploy where the mines have been laid, sir?”
“Admiral Enescu has a particular deployment she favours. If I’ve guessed correctly, the mines will even the score a bit for us and shake her up badly — and that’s when she tends to make rash decisions.”
The Flag Lieutenant grinned. His Admiral was a firm believer in the maxim ‘Know your enemy.’ “And then it gets interesting,” he said.
“Interesting, Flags? Well, if we’re lucky, it will be easier to out think her, and that is half the battle.”
He looked up as the Coms Officer said, “Admiral Hartmann for you, sir.”
“James,” the Vice Admiral greeted him. “We’ll be with you in an hour. What’s the situation?”
“Enescu’s fleet dropped out and is deploying as I expected.” He smiled. “It helps that we had some inside information. They don’t seem to realise their hypercom emitter and receiver is in our hands and capable of reading all their signal traffic. I expect Gratz to join her in about fifteen minutes. Then I have a little surprise for them.”
“Great. If, as you intend, it disrupts their deployment and forces them out of their chosen ground, we have an edge they can’t afford. I suggest we keep this link open so we can update the deployment data as we have it.”
“I agree.” Signalling his Coms Officer, who nodded, Admiral Heron continued. “I am keeping the mines inactive until we’re ready. One of her ships is not where I thought it would be — but with luck, the mines will do quite a lot of the work for us.”
Vanguard and her fleet dropped out surrounded by her escorting frigates and destroyers. On her flanks, the heavy cruiser and destroyer squadrons deployed on their prearranged formations and began the manoeuvre to draw the enemy into position. Admiral Heron watched as the holographic command display cleared to show the dispositions of the opposing fleet.
“Our scout drones are doing a great job,” he commented. “The scan is clearer than I expected.”
“We’ve been tweaking and tuning them since they went in, sir,” the Commander responded. “But they may miss some of the smaller stuff because we’re at maximum filter.”
“A chance we’ll have to take.” The Admiral stiffened. “They’ve taken the bait. They’re moving in to attack and don’t seem to have spotted the mines — their scan filters must be at full power as well. Good.” To his Weapons Team, he said, “Arm the mines on my command.” He touched his comlink. “Richard, stand by, we’re about to arm the mines. I’ll want a turn away together just before I do, then a turn toward them as soon as their ships find the trap.”
“I understand.” The Captain’s voice was calm. “Just give the word, sir.”
The Admiral focused his attention on the scans, watching for his moment. “Now,” he commanded. “Commence the turn away.”
The Scan Officer tracked the markers on his scan and called, “They’re swinging to intercept, sir. They’ve taken the bait.”
The Admiral nodded. “Arm the mines.”
The closing fleet adopted a tight formation, giving no sign of having detected the minefield. Successive massive bursts of energy clouded the scanners, blinding the automated targeting for a few seconds. This would have been a handicap, but Vanguard and her sisters had a visual targeting system as well — one developed from the crude system based on Harry and Ferghal’s knowledge of seemingly ‘ancient’ technology when they first arrived so precipitately in this century.
“They’ve found the mines.” The laconic comment from the Weapons Rate brought a sharp reprimand.
“Captain Grenville!” The Admiral kept his link open. “Target the lead ship.” He nodded to his Flag Lieutenant. “Signal all ships: Engage your designated targets.”
The Vanguard’s Captain watched as his ship swung toward the enemy formation. Several enemy ships were falling out of position, debris spreading out around them as they did so. He keyed his link. “Engage the lead ship. Target her weapons and drives.” He hoped all the unexploded mines were able to read their ‘friend’ signals and would not react to their ships as they passed.
The great beams of ionized particles sliced into the leading ship. Still recovering from the explosion of several mines close to her and at least one, judging by the gaping hole in her side, against her hull, the other ship reeled. Vanguard staggered as several of the enemy ship’s weapons found her and returned the damaging fire.
“The destroyers are launching missiles,” his Plot Officer announced. “Enemy taking evasive action.”
The angles changed on the leading ship, and her companions followed suit. The Captain opened his mouth to order a closing course when the second ship in the enemy line seemed to blossom fire and light. “She’s found another mine,” the Lieutenant in charge of the plot commented. “But a few of them are still in place.”
“Which means we had better take care ourselves,” snapped the Captain. “Hold our present heading. That mine disrupted their formation. Send in the strike fighters. See if we can blind the leader.”
Admiral Heron watched the unfolding exchange then keyed his link. “First and second cruiser squadrons, engage their rear.” To his team he said, “I want to nudge them a little further along the lateral plane. Admiral Hartmann is waiting for her moment, and we’ll have them between us.”
He watched as the cruisers changed heading and swept toward the rearmost enemy ships, the swarm of interceptors showing as pinpricks of light as their drive pods lit up and powered them directly at the other side’s response. The feint had the desired effect.
The smaller ships at the rear of the enemy line were all conversions, and shied away from the heavy cruisers. This exposed the flanks of the tail end of the enemy starships. A quick strike from the destroyer forces took the opportunity to launch another missile strike. A moment later, the entire enemy fleet turned away, one more of their ships apparently striking a mine in the process.
“Admiral Hartmann’s fleet in dropout, sir,” called a TechRate.
“Right on the button,” breathed the Plot Officer even as the first bright streaks of plasma and particle beams lanced toward the enemy. “She’s got them dead to rights!”
Aboard the Vengeance, Danny tracked the lead ship and carefully focused his weapons pods on her. An observer might have thought he was playing a keyboard as his fingers danced across the interface. “Concentrate on her secondary emplacements,” he told his team. He noted the enemy changing angle in his targeting screen. “He’s turning away. Shift target — his hangars are exposed as he swings. Target the landing bays.”
His team adjusted their aim, and Danny pressed the firing switches. Plasma lanced from the turrets, and brilliant flashes lit the interior as they found their target. The angle changed again, and Danny gave fresh directions as he identified the other ship’s scanner arrays. Concentrating on his task helped him forget the last time they had faced this fleet and his near miss with a damaged arm and the air escaping from the compartment.
This took his thoughts to Harry and Ferghal, and he missed them with a pang of longing. The three of them were like brothers now, and it had been too many months since he’d last seen them. At least he knew they were both alive.
He snapped out of his momentary reverie when he saw the angle of the other ship changing again, and once more, he had a shot at the hangar bays. This time their efforts were rewarded by a great flare from the forward facing launch bays on the leading edge of the fin. What he could not see was the passage of the same flare through the centre part of the ship, tearing out bulkheads and decks, and more crucially, severing communications with the fore part of the ship from the after end.
Admiral Heron saw the movement of the enemy cruisers and immediately gave orders to counter their threat. Frustrated in their manoeuvre, they fell back exposing the rear of the line of starships to a strike by his second battle group, and that provoked Admiral Enescu into turning two of her starships to concentrate the defence of her rear.
“Now we have them.” Admiral Heron studied his battle plot. Spotting the deployment of smaller ships into the mines, he ordered, “Signal our ships: Close and engage.”
The battle was brief but bloody. The concentrated fire of three starships, twelve heavy cruisers and the darting, stinging destroyers rapidly crippled three of the Consortium’s starships and destroyed three of their cruisers before the remainder extricated themselves in confusion. Admiral Gratz was only partially successful. As his ships attempted their battle turn, they discovered that Admiral Hartmann had anticipated this move, and ran a gauntlet of intense fire. It rapidly became a case of every ship for itself, and those that were able to flashed into hyperspace on any bearing from which they could find an opening.
The CS Khamenei, Admiral Gratz’s flagship, was the last to escape — damaged, barely under control, her Captain reliant on ComTechs in EVA suits to act as links between him, his engineers and his Admiral. As the Khamenei managed her escape, she left behind three starships in their death throes, one of them Admiral Enescu’s flagship.
James Heron called up his senior. “Do you want me to pursue them?”
“No, James,” Admiral Hartmann replied. “The C-in-C is in position to intercept them, and I have squadrons on their way to assist him. I plan to keep them running and scattered. Take your ships directly to Lycania and secure that planet.” She paused. “And well done to your people. Your minefield was the crucial element. Your analysis of their inability to spot them in the background scatter here was spot on.”
“Yes,” he responded. “Planting a few scan drones among them helped — it gave us the ability to come in shooting. And Leandra’s tendency to react without analysing a situation also worked for us. The losses among their people must be horrendous.” He paused as the plot screen showed a sudden bright star where his opponent’s flagship had been slowly tearing itself to pieces. “I hope the survivors were clear of that!” he commented.
In his quarters deep inside their Canid host’s structures, Harry paused in his preparations to move to the captured base on the surface. His mind wandered to the prospect of seeing Mary Hopkins again — if she’d not given him up for lost and taken up with someone else. He thought briefly of Maddie Hodges, and smiled. Several years older than he, she’d made a lively, sometimes cheeky, but always professional companion as his signaller. That she and one of the TechRates, Errol Hill, had formed a relationship made him envious. Pulling his thoughts back to Mary, he smiled. He had a package full of letters to send her, and hoped she’d be happy to receive them.
The signal traffic he had been half listening to, without consciously doing so, changed. A degree of desperation seemed to have entered all the enemy messages. He stopped to listen and realised that a huge battle was being fought somewhere in the stars.
Sinking to his knees, he offered a prayer, the ancient prayer he had heard on so many Sundays in freezing rain, wind or blazing sun aboard HMS Spartan all those years ago. So many dead, and so many injured in this conflict. He began his prayers with very mixed feelings.
“O Eternal Lord God, who alone spreadest out the heavens, and rulest the raging of the seas; who hast compassed the waters with bounds until day and night come to an end….”
His alien host, the Provider, watched and listened, thinking its own thoughts and, having learned this strange behaviour meant Harry wanted privacy, left him to his prayers.
The Provider was unaware that it too was being watched, and through it Harry. They were both being studied by the Siddhiche.
Chapter 32 — Prospects for Peace
Niamh read the message from her brother with delight. At last, she had something to share with Mary Hopkins. She smiled at the thought. The young lady had contacted her at least daily asking for news of Harry. Now she had something to tell her that wasn’t already on the news channels. A news team had been aboard the Vengeance, and some of their recordings, taken from the ship’s battle plot scans, had been playing almost non-stop. Already there was talk of the hope of peace.
That did finally seem possible, though Niamh and Mary were almost too afraid to believe it for fear of being disappointed. In the last hour, it had been announced that a message had been received from the Consortium Board and was ‘being studied’ by the President and the Confederation’s allies. The only cloud on their horizon was no news from Harry or Ferghal. Both were still on the planet Lycania, but beyond that, they knew nothing.
Niamh looked up when her husband entered the room.
“Well, dearest?” she asked. “Is there going to be peace?”
“It certainly looks that way, though it isn’t the outright surrender we wanted. They still have a few aces to play, and we will have to make some compromises — not that we didn’t need to make some changes — but now it will be a part of the settlement, assuming we can get it through the Parliament.”
“How can they hope to prevent the settlement?” Niamh frowned. “It seems to me that’s the only reasonable course.”
“You won’t find many among the representatives who disagree with that assessment.” Theo smiled. “But, to more pleasant matters, what has James to say for his victory?”
“Oh, he’s so reticent it drives me wild.” She laughed. “He gives all the credit to his ‘people’ as he calls them. I’ve l
earned more watching the CBC and Interstellar News channels.” She looked serious again. “Do you think Harry and Ferghal will be sent home now? I shall be so disappointed if they are not. Surely they’ve earned some leave.”
“If the intel reports I have seen over the last few days are anything to go by, they’ve more than earned it. Apparently, they’ve been very creative. They’ve certainly sown mayhem in their wake.”
“Good for them. But now I see the League for the Protection of Sentient Life are making a noise about their contact with the Canids.”
“My staff are dealing with a formal complaint from the League at present. They’re claiming our boys used stolen alien technology to conduct their guerrilla campaign.” Theo laughed. “I rather think the boot is on the other foot, but we will see.”
“Harry.” The Commander acknowledged his salute. “I’ll be going aloft with the next shuttle. You’re to remain here and act as liaison with the Canids until we sign the agreement with them. Admiral Hartmann will be coming down to deal with that, and once it’s signed off, she’ll give you your orders.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Will they be sending representatives home with us?”
Noting the disappointed look on Harry’s face, he replied, “Yes, they’re discussing it now. I know you want to go aloft with Mr. O’Connor and the rest of your men. Admiral Heron is keen to have you aboard as well.”
“As you say, sir.”
“You led these men through some tough and difficult conditions. You pulled them together and kept them going, so that’s a very natural wish, Lieutenant.”
“I just did what seemed best in the circumstances, sir.”
“More important at the moment, though, you made contact with and allied yourselves to the Canids. Protocol and diplomacy dictate that right now you should be here a little longer.”
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