Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5)
Page 28
The carriers maneuvered into positions, the bays opened, and the tethering beams activated. Immediately, the haulers and tugs began pushing their loads toward an open bay, coordinating with the bay’s crew chief. Within an hour, the Last Stand, the smaller carrier, was on its way to the station’s staging area, and the No Retreat followed soon after.
At the station staging point, Jorre eased his tug forward to grasp an asteroid from the Last Stand, his face screwed up in concentration. On his comm, the carrier’s flight chief signaled when the beams were cut, passing the load off to Jorre, who was excited to see that he had retrieved his load first, but then he realized he had no drop location to head toward.
“Anxious as always I see, young captain.”
“Cordelia,” Jorre exclaimed.
“The coordinates are in your computer, young captain. Drop your load there and ensure it has zero velocity relative to the station.”
“Ser Pauline, my thanks for the beauty you grow,” Pauline heard in her comm headset.
“You would be the recipient of the orchids, Jorre’s benefactor,” Pauline replied. “The way he gushes about you is enough to make a girl jealous.”
“And yet you sit beside him, young Ser. It might help you to know that I’m a century too old for your young man. Good fortune to you, Pauline.”
When Cordelia closed the comm, Pauline looked at Jorre in astonishment. “You didn’t tell me you had a thing for older women,” she teased, much to Jorre’s confusion and consternation.
* * *
Tatia wondered at Alex’s forethought. He’d ordered a probe launched in Sol’s outer belt when they first crossed the field headed inward to Idona Station. The probe saved them days of time that they would have lost sending the Rêveur out to communicate with the miners. At the time, she couldn’t see the value and asked Alex why.
“I have a fondness for asteroid fields and miners, Tatia. Harvesting them was the reason I met the Méridiens,” he said to her.
Tatia’s question to Alex this time was, “How many rocks do you want us to get?”
Alex’s equally odd response this time was, “Haul them out until our time is up. You can never have too many rocks.”
* * *
For days on end, the people of Idona space — Harakens, stationers, miners, captains and crew, and visitors — labored to fulfill Alex’s crazy plan. Despite the long hours and hard work, the mood was generally upbeat.
It wasn’t that the people didn’t know that this was one of the strangest ways they had ever heard of to take on a dangerous UE fleet and that there was every possibility it would fail; it was the fact that the people, for once in a long time, were united in a common cause. They were working to save a place that had been transformed from a derelict outpost to a home for most and a safe haven for others.
Previously, to most stationers, Idona was a place to exist. Now it was a place to prosper, but more important, it was a new way of living, of existing together without the stifling stress the UE policies had created, and they, most of all, were adamant about protecting it from some egomaniac of an admiral bent on destroying it.
So they mined asteroids, carved them, loaded them, unloaded them, tagged them with sensors that were wedded to traveler controllers, and settled them into discreet groups that related to the side of a particular carrier and the order of launch. The groups of asteroids grew as myriad small ships — tugs, ore haulers, and reclamation vessels — any craft that could safely move an asteroid piled them up. And just as important, each small ship was required to adopt the asteroids they transported. It would be their job, at the appropriate time, to repeat the exact process. For each barrage’s preparation, the haulers would have to attach the same asteroid to the same bay’s beams on the same ship’s side from where they had originally unloaded it.
The key to this carefully crafted routine was to allow the sub-wing of travelers to chase their assigned rocks once the barrage was released by the carrier. In any human endeavor, this type of precision without rehearsal would have been fraught with errors, some of which might have led to the death of pilots, but the SADEs depended on the Harakens’ technical infrastructure.
The carriers’ and travelers’ controllers were at the heart of the complicated procedures. Movement of an improper asteroid toward a bay at loading time, and the carrier’s controller, receiving the asteroid’s transponder signal, would notify the vessel operator and redirect the operator to the proper bay. This and innumerable other crosschecks gave the Harakens a chance at succeeding with Alex’s plan where others would have stalled at the first barrage.
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Tatia, Sheila, and Reiko were locked in an intense discussion for hours. Alex, Julien, and Renée were nearby and could often hear the women raising their voices. At one point, Julien inquired of Alex if he shouldn’t be assisting them with the barrage computations.
Overhearing his question, Renée replied, “This isn’t a question of computation, Julien, it’s a matter of intuition … work best left to women.”
Alex grinned at Julien and walked away, refusing to touch Renée’s comment.
It would leave Julien wondering if SADEs could be intuitive until he reached the point where he decided that if he survived the upcoming fight he might have centuries to discover the answer to that question.
The women’s discussion centered on Portland’s reactions to different barrage formations, but the permutations were too many to consider. So the decision was to proceed in a manner that limited the admiral’s options.
“Portland will surround his battleship with other capital ships, which will be commanded by his most loyal people,” Reiko said. “The perimeters of the fleet will be manned by destroyers, captained by the admiral’s camp followers, if you will. Send the first bombardment directly at the extreme perimeter ships, and there is a high possibility of them shifting away from the fleet.”
“Away from the fleet, not closer?” Tatia asked.
“Say you’re a destroyer captain, who has been going along for the ride with the admiral, until now. You’re out on the periphery of the fleet because you aren’t one of the committed. You’re sailing to attack the Harakens and Idona Station again, where Portland lost most of his fleet last time. Now, all of a sudden and very mysteriously, a great number of huge rocks comes flying past the station at your warship.”
“Oh … I get it,” declared Sheila. “We’re the mysterious aliens of the deep dark. Who knows what we’re capable of? And closing toward Portland’s battleship might not be the safest place to be.”
“Excellent,” Tatia said. “Instead of a barrage with travelers behind the asteroids, we can start with launches of just rocks to force the fleet apart, perhaps even creating avenues.” You can never have enough rocks, Tatia thought, recalling Alex’s words. “I like this concept,” she added. “If the fleet sees successive waves of asteroids sailing past, it won’t be expecting our travelers when we launch an armed barrage.”
“Does this mean that we’ll have to reprogram the travelers to mate with later groups of rocks?” Sheila asked.
“No, not if we just take some of the surplus groups of asteroids and have Cordelia program them as the initial launches,” Tatia replied.
“You know, I wanted to ask you about those extra asteroids,” Reiko said. “What made you expend the extra effort to haul them out in the first place? I mean it’s great that we have them, considering the changes to our plan, but I’m curious as to your reasoning.” When Tatia and Sheila started chuckling, Reiko became a little miffed and exclaimed, “What?”
“Alex,” the two Harakens said simultaneously and started laughing.
“Oh,” Reiko said, “forget I asked.” Then she joined in the laughter.
After the women settled down, Sheila considered the upcoming change and said, “When we add the empty barrages at the front of the queue, we’ll have to tag the new rocks and reorder the links between the tugs and the asteroids.”
Her comment
caused Tatia and Reiko to groan. It would be the fourth time that the plan had a significant strategic change that necessitated a revamping of the data and the order of battle.
“At some point, people are going to think we don’t know what we’re doing,” Sheila joked.
“Throwing rocks to defeat a UE force led by capital ships doesn’t constitute that already?” deadpanned the diminutive Reiko.
Sheila clapped her hands in front of Reiko’s face, creating an explosive sound. “Squish like bug,” she said, and the women broke into laughter again.
* * *
Positioning of the derelict ships to use as screens for the carriers’ launches turned out to be a nonstarter. As Z put it to Alex, “It’s analogous to aiming a weapon. The projectiles are thrown by the carrier. The target is the fleet; its position we can’t anticipate. How do we set up a screen to hide our weapons when we don’t know where our targets will be in advance?”
Alex pulled up the holo-vid, which was loaded with the carrier’s staging position, the stock of carved-out asteroids, Idona, and Portland’s present position. He pulled up a chair, sat down, and stared at the holo-vid before he closed his eyes.
Reiko took a breath to raise a question, but felt Sheila’s big hand on her arm, signaling her to wait. She looked around the room and saw the three SADEs in frozen positions. It made Reiko wonder again what an implant would feel like and what she would be able to do with it. An image of Franz flashed through her mind. Noticing that Tatia and Sheila had adopted parade rest positions, she copied them.
“We’re trying too hard. Forget the idea of a screen as a wall. What we need is simple camouflage,” Alex said, a few moments later, opening his eyes, and the SADEs were nodding in agreement. He approached the holo-vid and images of ships began appearing. “Lay the ships out in an expanding cone at various distances from the carrier staging points up to and past the station. In fact, throw in a few ships behind the staging points. The UE warships have simpler telemetry returns with their guides. It will be difficult for them to distinguish the barrages as anything more than a storm originating in the belt and speeding past the station.”
* * *
Aboard the station, Nikki Fowler was inundated with requests from the stationers asking to help with Idona’s preparations. She organized work crews under engineers to ensure every emergency decompression door was operable, could seal tight, and actuated at the slightest drop in pressure. Food and water were distributed and stockpiled in each section in case people were trapped by the decompression doors.
Nikki spent hours with her engineers planning for various catastrophes. What helped her peace of mind was the fact that thousands of stationers would be aboard the ships, helping the Harakens prepare for Portland. At the same time, that meant there was little opportunity for evacuation of the station’s remaining residents and visitors, who were represented by a significant proportion of children.
Arrangements were made to begin moving people from the outer ring to the inner ring and core, which stood greater chances of surviving any errant missiles. It saddened Nikki that such a wonderful, social experiment as Idona Station, post the Harakens’ arrival, which had proven to be so successful might soon become space debris because of one man’s undying anger.
* * *
On the trip from Saturn’s moons, Portland regained much of his old assurance. He entertained thoughts of destroying the Harakens and Idona Station then proceeding on to the belt where he would use the mining hubs as bases, while he ransacked stations in the outer rim until the tribunes granted him immunity.
Portland’s great weakness was his assumption that he was a leader with absolute power, but that confidence was severely misplaced where it concerned his commanders. The admiral’s battle at Idona Station was a well-known event. Every commander in Portland’s fleet was aware of the beating he had taken, losing entire squadrons to the Harakens’ superior technology.
The senior officers possessed little information about the Harakens’ strange fighters, and that in itself was both odd and troubling. The question they often asked one another was, “Shouldn’t we have specifications and performance analysis of the enemy’s ships?”
Shimada was correct in her evaluation of Portland’s captains, especially those on the periphery of the fleet. To say they were nervous was an understatement. Most were wondering if the same fate as that of Portland’s lost squadrons was awaiting them in the upcoming battle. It caused them to consider it might be more prudent to abandon Portland and throw themselves on the mercy of the newly heralded UE policies.
Portland decided that his mistake in the first battle was to divide his forces. This time he would keep his fleet together, not spread along a thin line but stacked several ships high — a wedge formation. His winged battleship was securely nestled behind a front shield of ships with cruisers in close proximity.
Another of Portland’s decisions was to ignore any Haraken provocation, as he thought of the traditional-looking fighters that first attacked his squadrons. His plan was to strike at Idona and force the Harakens to defend the station, denying them their maneuverability and speed. Let’s see how your technically superior fighters operate when pinned in place, Portland thought. And, if you run, I’ll demolish the station, and everyone will know you’re cowards.
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The Harakens were ready for Portland as his fleet approached Idona Station on the ecliptic. The carriers were loaded with asteroids. The pilots were waiting in their travelers, formed up in squadrons, vessels of all sorts were gripping their second load of rocks in claws, and the station was as secure as Nikki could make it.
A full sub-wing of travelers, commanded by Franz Cohen, floated next to Commodore Shimada’s destroyer squadron. They were the last line of defense against Portland if the fighter wings under Sheila, Ellie, Deirdre, and Lucia failed to stop his warships.
“What a coincidence, Commander,” Reiko replied to Franz when he arrived. “I knew the battle plan assigned me a sub-wing of Haraken fighters, but imagine my surprise that they’re commanded by you.”
“Are you really surprised, Commodore?” Franz asked.
“No … no, I’m not. Quite pleased actually,” Reiko replied, and her bridge crew heard the lift in their commodore’s voice.
“So, after the fight, Commodore, dinner?” Franz asked.
A spate of snickers and chortles broke out on Shimada’s bridge, which even her glare failed to extinguish entirely. The thought of a witty barb in reply evaporated before it could even take hold. “Dinner together would be enjoyable. I look forward to it.”
When the comm closed, Shimada eyed her bridge crew and squadron officers and announced in a firm voice, “Okay, people, you heard. I have a dinner date. Now see that you do everything possible to ensure I get to my date.”
* * *
Edouard and Miko were comparing notes. Both spoke to Alex independently, questioning the possible actions to take after the bombardment and traveler attacks were launched. Their greatest concern was that Alex had committed every traveler to the fight. There wasn’t a single Haraken ship left aboard the station. Julien and Z were each aboard a carrier, while Cordelia chose to remain on the station, and Renée and the twins were with Alex, as anyone would have expected.
The captains found that Alex’s answer to each of them was the same. “After the bombardment, take a position off the station for the travelers’ return.” Alex’s answer bothered both of them, and they sought out Julien with their concerns.
“I’m not sure it matters whether our president is on the station or aboard a carrier,” Julien replied. “If the station’s people are lost, he might be too. The stationers are the innocents, the everyday people who are disregarded by those represented by Downing, Bunaldi, and Portland. To our president, the stationers are the people who matter the most.”
“Too many fights in a young life,” Miko said sympathetically.
“Or by staying aboard the station, he indicates that i
t’s time for us to take on the burden of the fighting,” Edouard said.
“Perhaps,” Julien said, “I, of all people, am forced to accept his stance since my partner has chosen to remain on station as well. The children of Idona, especially the orphans, have become precious to Cordelia, and their loss would be devastating to her. So they stay, saying to the people of the station, ‘Your fate is our fate.’”
Alone in their thoughts, Julien sought to shift the mood. “So, Captains, let us ensure it’s Admiral Portland and his ill-conceived minions who meet their fate today, not the good people of Idona.”
As the comm closed, images of Cordelia, the children of Idona, Alex, Renée, and the twins flashed through Julien’s crystal memory. So many fragile treasures at risk, he thought.
* * *
Julien’s report was for the allies since every Haraken was watching the fleet’s movement via controllers and holo-vids in real time, and if any single individual could be banished to their worst nightmarish afterlife by an entire population, Portland was being sent there by the people of Idona for his cowardice.
Z and Julien were linked and sharing calculations at an intense pace, forcing their internal cooling systems into overdrive. Data on the carriers’ loads, acceleration rates, velocity of the asteroids, angles of attack, warship positions, and, most critical, Tatia’s strategy against the fleet, combined and flowed in a continuous stream as Portland’s fleet closed on the station.
There were no wild shouts urging troops into action or even commands sent to the carrier captains. Exacting precision required direct control. On the required tick of time, Julien sent the Last Stand surging forward, and soon after, Z did the same for the No Retreat.