The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3)

by Edmond Barrett

  That at least got a smile on the bridge. Willis glanced again at the Holo. Knowing what was coming, the crew of each ship would be coping with the next few hours as best they could. They’d made all possible preparations. Every ship system had been checked and doubled checked. The medical dispenser of each crewmember’s survival suit had been stocked with the generally detested wake-up shots, but facing into an engagement that might last days, there was no choice. As they began a build-up that would test the nerves of even the strongest of them, as captain, she had to lead by example. At times like this, that amounted to looking like everything was under control.

  “Commander,” she said standing up, “I’m going below for a nap. Tell the galley I want the crew fed in eight hours.”

  Chuichi nodded in agreement.

  “And make sure you get some rest yourself,” she added.

  Willis didn’t go directly to her cabin; instead she made a quick tour of the ship, to the immediate consternation of the ship’s non-commissioned officers. Having a commanding officer running loose certainly distracted the ship’s petty officers as they tried to get ahead of her to make sure anything she shouldn’t see was removed from sight. Willis allowed her attention to be drawn so other things could be cleared away behind her. Finally though, her slow circuit brought her to her own cabin.

  She lay down on her bunk with hands beneath her head. Her first year in the fleet had, as with all officer candidates, been spent as a rating. In those early days, her immediate superior had once told her that a good officer needed to learn how to sleep. Young and confident, she’d thought it foolish at the time, but as the years, particularly the last two, passed the more she’d come to appreciate that Petty Officer Joseph Taylor had known what he was talking about. He was probably retired by now, but as a man cast from the same mould as her own engineer, he might have wriggled his way back in. If he had, hopefully he was still alive out there somewhere.

  Willis looked around the small cabin. Space on board a starship was at an extreme premium, even for the captain. Her cabin on Hood hadn’t been a home, just a place to sleep. But here on Black Prince, she’d at least tried to add a few homey touches. Willis’s glaze fell on the picture on her desk. One of her in the uniform of a junior lieutenant with arm around the friend she’d left forever at Dryad. To say there was no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole had always been wrong. What was true was that there was no such thing as an agnostic in one, because when it all hit the fan, a person would pretty quickly come down on one side of the fence or the other. Willis wasn’t a religious or spiritual person, but she hoped there was something beyond this life and that if she saw him again, she would be able to say his sacrifice had been worth it. Then like a good officer Faith Willis dozed off.

  ___________________________

  Going to action stations was far more casual than usual. The ship’s cook excelled himself with a greater selection than was usually available. The wardroom attendant arrived at Willis’s cabin with a plate of her favourite – macaroni cheese with bacon – and despite her nerves, she’d enjoyed it greatly.

  “All sections have reported in as closed up and ready for action,” Chuichi said. The Commander was standing with helmet settled on his hip. He and Willis were now the only ones not wearing their helmets. It gave the opportunity for a last few words without being overheard. Willis nodded absent-mindedly in response to his report as she looked around her bridge. The atmosphere was tense but not fearful. They were sharp and ready. Just like her crew had been on the old Hood, before the little cruiser was shot to pieces around them. She gave her head a brief shake, as if it could dislodge the memory.

  “Commander, when this starts, it might be very sudden so I want you to head for Damage Control as soon as we decompress.”

  Chuichi nodded patiently.

  “There is one last thing I want you to understand in case the bridge is knocked out and you have to take command. Black Prince will not disengage under any circumstances, short of the ship being abandoned. Even if we don’t have a working gun left or we can’t keep up with the convoy, Black Prince will not retreat.”

  Willis looked at the main holo. Ahead was the Blue Line, the closest to Saturn that the Nameless could jump in. Beyond, three enemy scouts were visible half way between the Blue and Red Line. Further on still a flight of human fighters was visible.

  “If we don’t get out of Saturn, then everything else falls apart.”

  Chuichi nodded grimly.

  “See you over the line, Captain.”

  “And you, Commander.”

  “Bridge, Coms, signal from Saladin: prepare to turn in succession at mark.”

  “Understood, Coms. Helm, stand ready. Tactical, decompress the ship. Let’s get on with it.”

  Right on the Blue Line the entire convoy turned in succession through ninety degrees and started to travel along the line. Willis smiled slightly as communications reported a sudden flurry of FTL transmissions from the watching scouts. Then a few minutes later came the slower FTL pulses from the Battle Fleet communications ship Outreach, still orbiting Saturn and now being fed information from the starforts.

  A little later, Black Prince’s communications centre reported FTL transmissions from Earth. As the visible Nameless scouts turned and started to shadow the convoy, there were several brief flares as torpedoes were launched from warships moving onto station ahead and behind the convoy. Each time the Nameless scouts stopped transmitting, their jammers came back online. But finally a transmission from Earth got through. The Home Fleet was in position close to the Earth Red Line. Once again the convoy turned, angling out and away from Saturn.

  For another hour and a half the convoy slowly opened the distance between them and Saturn. Two squadrons of fighters from the starforts rendezvoused. The distance was such that the fighters could only spend about an hour with them before starting the journey back to their bases. With the long climb out of the gravity well and the dive back, even for something as quick as a fighter, each squadron could make only one sortie in a day. Each of the Saturn squadrons was set to meet them in sequence during the long climb, so there would always be a few fighters with them, if never very many.

  “Contact!” The command channel warning made Willis jump. “Multiple contacts jumping in bearing two, zero, nine dash zero, one, seven! Range: one hundred thousand!”

  “Reactors to full. Tactical, give me a read,” Willis responded as the action alarm sounded.

  “Provisional count: two cap ships, five cruisers and nine escorts. Their formation is tight, looks optimised for anti-fighter.”

  The Saturn fighters were already moving onto the port side of the convoy, getting ready to engage their missiles.

  “Coms, Bridge. Signal from Saladin, we are to hold on the disengaged side.”

  “Acknowledge,” Willis replied as she gripped the armrest of her chair. A hundred thousand kilometres put them at the very limit of cruiser scale plasma cannons. But against the unarmoured Nameless ships even a plasma bolt losing final coherency would do damage. The three cruisers were formed in a triangle, vertical to the direction of travel. With Black Prince positioned on the bottom right, they currently could only see the Nameless through the convoy. Ahead, the three destroyers also formed in a triangle and rotated around the convoy to allow their single flak gun armed vessel to present its weapon.

  “Contact separation, we have incoming,” Sensors reported.

  “Sensors, keep a sharp eye on your scopes,” Willis ordered. “Do not get hung up on those missiles – they are someone else’s problem.”

  At the head of the convoy Minstrel started to fire, only slowly this time to conserve her ammunition, as Saladin and Cetshwayo began to fire both plasma cannons and flak guns. Two missile salvos burned in while on the main holo, one of the enemy cap ships flashed as the computer registered hits. Willis frowned as she studied the holo. This was... kinda tentative. With those ships tightly packed to fend off fighters, their own fire was comin
g down a single axis, which gave the human ships the best possible chance of stopping everything they threw. She glanced at the weapons display. Their plasma and flak turrets were both pointed towards the distant enemy ships. Just like everyone else’s guns.

  “Bridge, Fire Control. Go fore and aft on all guns!”

  There was no question or confusion from the gunner as the turrets began to swing round, but then another voice cut across the command channel.

  “Contact! Multiple new contacts are jumping in at multiple bearings!”

  “Oh Christ!” Willis muttered. Not a cluster, not this time, or even at the edge of gun range. Instead a curved line was forming a quarter circle, running from dead ahead round to starboard between the convoy and Saturn. Beyond them several more contacts had appeared fifty thousand kilometres ahead. The holo blinked as it reset the scale.

  “New contacts, range ten thousand and closing!”

  They’d wondered whether the Nameless would dare commit to a short-range jump in. The aliens were nearly stationary for the jump and the convoy was seconds away from spearing through their line. Close range favoured the gun armed human ships, but with the element of surprise and short flight time, the first salvo of missiles could overwhelm the target. It would probably cost the Nameless ships, but with two thirds of the escort and all of the fighters already engaged, it might gut the convoy. With their enemy still phasing in, Tactical didn’t yet have any indication as to what they were. It could be ten capital ships or ten scouts. By the time they knew, the Nameless would have completed their jump in and the missiles would be flying.

  But Black Prince’s guns had already been swinging round when the jump in began and vital seconds had already been saved. There was no time to request instructions from Saladin. They needed to make best use of their weapons and right now that meant suppressive fire – hit them while they were still getting a fix on location and target.

  The entire thought process shot across Willis’s mind as she sought a solution. There was no time for subtlety or a perfect fit. Black Prince needed to lay down fire in as many directions as possible. The middle of the Nameless formation was the most likely location for any heavy units.

  “Helm! Roll to present starboard broadside. Bridge to Fire Control, lock and fire on targets U One, Zero and U One, One with plasma cannons!” she shouted. “Flak guns, fire on U One, Two and U One, Nine. Countermeasures, full spread!”

  As Black Prince’s turrets opened up, several of the transports started firing off their own chaff bursts. Ahead the destroyer, which, like Black Prince, had been on the disengaged side, volleyed off all four missiles at separate targets. On the holo the new contacts stabilised as they completed jump in and Tactical started to classify them. One of them met a salvo of plasma bolts head on, which cut through the entire length of the ship, intersecting a reactor. Willis had just registered it as an escort when it vanished from the plot, without leaving even an icon for wreckage.

  “Contact separations, we have incoming!”

  “Point Defence Batteries,” Willis said as she tightened her seat straps, “Commence! Commence! Commence!”

  The salvo wasn’t a single launch or targeted at one or a small number of targets. Instead it was a staggered launch, with almost every ship in the convoy targeted. The immediate counter fire had panicked the Nameless into a premature launch and that Willis realised, gave them a chance. The holo became a mess of overlapping signals as every ship started firing off chaff rockets. Black Prince’s flak guns switched to picking off missiles but there were several dozen inbound. Willis realised there was no way they could even get close to stopping all of them.

  “Guns! Concentrate on the cap ship missiles,” she commanded. “Helm, bring us ahead two thirds, level with the ammunition ship!”

  As she spoke a cap ship missile penetrated the counter fire and hammered into one of the tankers. The detonation split her in half then one after another, her fuel tanks went up. The drive section, somehow still intact but now without any control, came corkscrewing up through the convoy, forcing the clumsy transports to desperately scramble out of the way. A second tanker was hit, this time a glancing strike, but enough to rupture several of her fuel tanks. A final cap missile struck one of the empty transports. The blast cut a ragged gash across the empty cargo bays but failed to find critical systems. Black Prince jolted as two of the smaller dual-purpose missiles found their way through the counter fire from point defence and powered in. Another four transports on the display indicated they had taken damage as the smaller missiles found a way in.

  Willis glanced at damage control but no critical systems showed as lost. On the main holo, tactical had finally identified the newcomers as five, formerly six, escorts and four cruisers. No cap ships, Willis thought, thank God! But the three still ahead were now showing as cap ships. Fire was still coming in from the opposite side, pinning the rest of the escort as the convoy raced through the Nameless line. No missiles flew. The aliens must have been reloading but now they were astern. Aside from a few point defence guns, the convoy had no weapons that could be brought to bear. There were no missile coming from the Nameless ships falling astern, which could only mean they were reloading their tubes for another big salvo, which this time, unlike the hurried initial attack, would be properly coordinated. Missiles were already inbound from the three cap ships ahead, trying to pin the defenders into facing that way.

  No guidance came from Saladin. The fighters abandoned their position on the flank and moved to intercept the fire from the front, but with threats on all sides the defence was stretched too thin. Willis’s eyes lit on the six torpedoes tracking along thirty thousand kilometres astern of the convoy. The weapons were set to engage any targets that got within ten thousand kilometres but they could take commands.

  “Tactical, take control of the aft torpedoes. Target the three cruisers!”

  “Understood.”

  “Helm, reverse our facing!” she continued to shout. “Guns, engage at will!”

  The six torpedoes began to accelerate towards the escorts. Their own radar arrays were still shut down, with the guidance systems instead relying on passive sensors and returns from the radar pulses of the surrounding ships. Coming from astern combined with their small size, the alien ships didn’t appear to see them coming. At ten thousand kilometres the Nameless registered their presence and began to take evasive action. Missiles intended for attack were instead redirected to defence, but the torpedoes were something the Nameless hadn’t encountered before. As each one registered a targeting radar lock on, they began to launch chaff. Two torpedoes vaporised as they met enemy missiles head on, but the other four evaded and continued to close. The starship engines that powered the torpedoes gave extended endurance a missile couldn’t match, but they didn’t have the same high acceleration. However, their designer had come up with a solution in the form of attached old-fashioned chemical rockets. As these fired, the torpedoes accelerated through their final run-in. The three alien escorts volleyed off the rest of their dual-purpose missiles, intercepting and destroying one more torpedo. Another clipped a frantically dodging cruiser, enough to rip a ragged gash along the entire length of the ship’s upper hull. The final two, projectiles every bit as big as the cap ship missiles the Nameless had used since the start of the war, hammered straight into ships utterly incapable of surviving such a blow.

  As the Nameless vessels died, their surviving ships salvoed off their loads. But the loss of three cruisers had pulled their teeth. Their weakened salvo met Black Prince’s counter fire. Willis felt her ship jump as another missile found its way through, while a tanker took a direct hit and exploded.

  “Bridge, Sensors. All contacts are jumping out!”

  On the holo the blips for the enemy ships were becoming indistinct.

  “Yes, that showed them!” someone said across the command channel. Ten Nameless ships had dropped in. Six had survived to jump out.

  Willis looked at the holo, on the opposite
side of the convoy, the first group of enemy ships was also falling back.

  Willis had barely time to draw breath before the next call came.

  “Bridge, Coms. Signal from Saladin, convoy heading change to two, eight, zero, dash zero, zero, zero turn in succession.”

  “Acknowledge and proceed,” she replied. Her hand bumped against the visor of her helmet as she unconsciously tried to rub her eyes. Commodore Dandolo’s move was a good one. There was likely to be a break before any further attack and by turning the convoy to move directly away from Saturn, they were gaining maximum distance before that could happen. In his seat, she doubted she would have made that decision as fast. Too many things were demanding her attention and she was being reminded that even after a year in command of not just a ship, but the defence of a star system, this wasn’t the type of war she had experience of. On the damage control panel several sections were flashing. It was time to find out what surviving thus far had cost them.

  ___________________________

  Battle Fleet Headquarters

  “How do you think it’s going?” Secretary Callahan asked quietly.

  Wingate made no immediate reply. The two men were standing at the back of the fleet command room, watching the giant hologram as the battle played out at an agonisingly slow rate.

  Wingate didn’t reply immediately. Instead he mentally tried several possible answers, as well as can be expected, too early to say, inside projections.

  “We’re on the cusp of failure,” he said quietly. When Callahan turned sharply to look at him he continued. “Two tankers are down, all the rest are damaged to some extent. Probably less than half the cargo remains. The Nameless might judge... might correctly judge, that they have done enough.”

  Wingate paused as he continued to stare up at the main holo. On it were a handful of green blips just entering the gun range of the forts on the moon of Tethys. Of course with the picture based on light speed transmissions, it was about eighty minutes out of date. Every twenty minutes or so, an FTL band would open as the Nameless scouts sent an update and the coms ship still orbiting Saturn attempted to get its own message through. Based on that information, a second set of green blips showed something closer to the convoy’s real time position, now past Tethys and heading almost directly for the Saturn Red Line.