“It’s been a long week,” Crowe replied rubbing his eyes. “I thought this would be over by now – feels more like it’s barely begun.”
“They don’t seem to be weakening,” Bhudraja said.
“Stand off firing at long range means they won’t be weakening until the moment they run out of ammunition. I just wish to fuck I knew when that would be.”
Bhudraja didn’t make any comment. There wasn’t anything that could be said. If the Nameless had managed to find another supply route, then the Home Fleet might be fighting a battle it had no possibility of winning.
“Well, we’ll have to leave some people to sleep through alerts,” Crowe said after a moment of thought. “Work out, or get someone to work out, a schedule to have an individual or two out of each section put off duty for a few hours. They’ll have to sleep in their suits…”
“I think most of the crew could sleep on a bed of nails at the moment.”
“True,” Crowe replied with a forced smile. “A few hours might take the edge off the tiredness.”
Crowe’s intercom buzzed before the Commander could say anything.
“Crowe here.”
“Commodore, we’ve received a signal from Flag,” Colwell reported. “The carrier Dauntless has been hit, she cannot currently recover fighters. Flag is requesting all ships with fighter recovery capability to report their status.”
Crowe paused. A hit to one of their carriers positioned at the heart of the Home Fleet’s formation was something he should have noticed or had reported to him, but he had no recollection of it.”
“What is our status?”
“We haven’t yet received any word on replacements for either of our fighters.”
“Alright, report we can recover and rearm two.”
“Yes, sir. Bridge out.”
“Well, it looks like we’re about to have visitors. With a little luck we might be able to hang on to these two. Alright, Commander, unless you have something else, I’ll go for half an hour of shut eye.”
___________________________
As the Nameless escorts began to jump away, Alanna pushed the throttle to full. J for Jolly trembled as the engines went full burn and the fighter broke formation, wingman in tow, heading for the distant Nameless carriers. Those Worm fighters that had survived contact were falling back for recovery. Jolly’s approach was noticed and two Nameless fighters swerved towards them on an intercept. Schurenhofer registered their approach, glanced at their inventory and tasked two of their remaining anti-fighter missiles. As the computer registered lock on, she fired and the Raven shuddered as the pair of missiles came off their rails. Seconds later the two contrails terminated in two sharp explosions.
More fighters attempted to intercept, but Jolly now had the advantage of acceleration and Alanna wove round them, not giving them a chance to get into range. Ahead the Nameless carriers were already recovering the fighters that had been deployed as a screen around the cap ships and cruisers for the assault. Astern, other Ravens were also accelerating towards the carrier but they’d had to wait longer than Jolly to block the Nameless missiles, so Alanna would get there first by a wide margin.
“We have lock,” said Schurenhofer sharply.
“Firing,” Alanna replied as she pressed the firing stud. The anti-ship missile burst from its housing and speared towards the carrier. A second missile lanced out from her wingman. As the missiles accelerated away, Jolly’s threat detection system whooped an alarm and Alanna threw the fighter into a violent corkscrew.
On her display, Alanna saw Nameless fighters that had been lining up to dock having to break formation and lunge towards the two missiles, while the escorts surrounding the carriers redirected their attention.
“Wing, through and go for the engines,” she snapped into the radio.
“Roger.”
Alanna steadied Jolly, established with a glance that her wingman was still gamely clinging to her tail and continued to accelerate in. Neither of the anti-ship missiles made it to the carriers. But the need to stop them had thrown the enemy landing cycle into chaos. The Nameless fighters floundered as Jolly flashed through their formation, her turret guns firing left and right as she burned down the flank of the nearest carrier. The Worm fighters tried to follow, but they had shed velocity to land and now couldn’t accelerate hard enough to match the Raven.
As they passed the carrier tail, Alanna dragged Jolly’s nose round and pushed the engines to plus ten override. In her seat, Schurenhofer groaned at the deceleration. As the guns lined up on one of the carrier’s engine pods, Alanna fired and a moment later Schurenhofer directed the two turret guns onto a second pod. Both engines stuttered and expired as plasma bolts ripped at them. The threat detection system whooped again. The Nameless fighters they’d blown through were coming up fast and Alanna rolled Jolly away.
“The carrier’s jumping,” Schurenhofer called as Alanna twisted their craft to use it as cover from the approaching fighters. She raked it with fire until she saw the bolts pass straight through the now almost ghost-like ship. A few more seconds and the Nameless ships were gone. All that remained were thirty odd Worm fighters, with nowhere to land and more Ravens coming up from astern.
“Good work, everyone,” said Commander Deighton across the radio as they destroyed the last of the Worm fighters. “You especially, Jolly. Looks like you gave that carrier a good slap before it went. Everyone back on station.”
“Well surprise, surprise, that actually worked,” Schurenhofer said. “I didn’t think we’d get that close – I owe you a five.”
“They’ll be a lot more careful about how close they get the carriers,” Alanna replied as she lifted her hand away from the control column and flexed her fingers.
It was probably her imagination but when she’d first taken Jolly from stores, the new fighter had felt lighter and more responsive to the touch, but now, like old Dubious before her, the Raven had the feel of a tired warhorse. But that was probably just her projecting. Taking hold of the controls again, Alanna put them on course back towards the fleet.
“Anyway, status check,” she said.
“We are bingo fuel. We have one anti-fighter missile, three hundred rounds for the nose gun, two hundred for the dorsal turret and one hundred and fifty on ventral. We have fuel for seven minutes at full combat consumption. One more contact and we’ll be drifting and down to harsh language.”
The Nameless had been trying to use their fighters to interfere with the Home Fleet’s fighter screen. The human counter had been standing orders for the fighters. As soon as the Nameless battle line started to jump away, they were to run at the carriers and knock them out if they could. If this was not possible, they were force them to jump away and abandon their fighters.
“Give Dauntless our status and request authorisation to land and rearm,” she ordered.
“Maybe get some shut eye as well,” Schurenhofer said, “or is that me getting wildly optimistic?”
“That’s not optimism Kristen, that’s just crazy talk,” Alanna replied.
After they lost Dubious it had taken a few days to source a new fighter, but once it arrived and after they were assigned the letter J, Alanna decided to claim Jolly as their call sign. Schurenhofer seemed torn between whether this was a good sign or some new and ironic manifestation of her pilot’s psychosis.
Psychosis took effort though. Combat always got the adrenalin pumping but now sitting there, without either a computer beeping at her or any instructions coming through over the radio, she could feel her eyes starting to close as the tiredness returned. It was starting to feel like the Siege of Earth. Time was becoming a nebulous concept beyond understanding. She’d stopped thinking about the future – next year, next week, tomorrow, even just an hour from now, it was just too much effort for tired brain cells. All she could do was concentrate on making it through each moment, hoping someone would tell her she could lie down and... get... a... few... hours... of...
“Shit,�
�� Schurenhofer said abruptly and Alanna’s head snapped up. “Skipper, you need to hear this,” Schurenhofer continued before flipping a switch.
“All fighters, flight leader.” Deighton’s voice was grim. “I have just received notification, Dauntless is negative, repeat negative, for fighter recovery operations. Stand by for instructions to redirect. Any pilots rated to land on cruisers make immediate contact with class types. Over.”
“How the hell?” Schurenhofer said. “Dauntless is smack in the middle for the fleet. How the hell did a missile get to her?”
“The inner screen is a lot more porous than it used to be,” Alanna replied before switching herself onto the radio channel. “Flight leader, this is J for Jolly, instructions received. Be advised I am rated to land on a Luna class cruiser.”
Alanna started flipping switches to power down systems.
“Understood Jolly,” replied Deighton, “Not sure how bad the situation is on Dauntless. How long until you have to refuel?”
Alanna glanced at Schurenhofer who shook her head.
“I am at bingo fuel Flight Leader.”
“Understood. Stand by, Jolly.”
Alanna waited impatiently. On her radar display she could see the duty fighters from the other carriers falling back, while others moved forward to take their position. The half dozen Ravens from Dauntless though were all drifting, as every pilot cut power to reduce fuel consumption to a minimum. The course they’d established to meet the fleet had been based on a longer acceleration period. Now drifting, their course convergence point was already behind the fleet and the gap was steadily opening. Jolly’s computer was dispassionately calculating how much fuel would be required to get back. The number was already worryingly close to that of their remaining fuel and getting closer.
“If the fleet jumps or accelerates we’re boned.” Schurenhofer said conversationally.
“I know.”
Another ten minutes ticked past and the fuel warning light came on.
“Flight leader, be advised J for Jolly is now declaring a fuel emergency,” Alanna reported.
“Understood, stand by.”
Alanna’s fingers drummed with increasing force on the control column. The Nameless attacks were erratic but they were now at a point where they would no longer have the fuel to either run or fight. Finally instructions came in across the radio.
“Jolly, you are to proceed with your wingman to the Deimos. Their hangars are clear and a ready to receive you.”
“Understood Dauntless, Jolly over and out,” Alanna replied as she powered up the engines again and searched for Deimos on her display.
“H for Humble. Form up on my wing. Do you have enough fuel to make it?”
“Just about Jolly, but I’ll need to land on the first attempt.”
Making their way down the approach lane, Dauntless’s transponder appeared on Alanna’s display. Schurenhofer focused one of their cameras on the distant carrier. There was a destroyer clearly standing by ready to assist. At such distance the detail wasn’t great – a gouge in the hull where the two aft portside hangars should have been was obvious though. The next pair forward was wrecked and pair after that were clearly splinter damaged.
“Dual-purpose missile then,” Schurenhofer said. “Looks like it locked onto the engineering section. It must have got really close to the Number Two Reactor.”
“If it had been a cap ship missile, there wouldn’t be anything left to see,” Alanna said grimly as she put Jolly onto approach. She’d left Deimos more than a year ago but still thought of it as more a home than any other ship she’d served on. Although the landing approach for the flak cruiser was always a bit more awkward than a proper carrier, it immediately came back to her. From within Jolly there was a cough as the last of the fuel went to the fighter’s reactor, just as the undercarriage touched down and the magnetic clamps got them.
Schurenhofer let out a long sigh of relief.
___________________________
“How bad is it, Captain?” Lewis asked.
The expression on the face of Dauntless’s commanding officer was grim.
“It was pretty much a fluke hit sir,” he responded. “The angle the missile struck meant that the blast came through the hangars access hatch and penetrated into the main hull. The blast front went through damage control and killed everyone in there. It also severed the main fuel runs to the hangars and that’s the big problem.
“Captain, can you get your ship to a state where she is capable of operations?”
“Right now we can take fighters on board in our starboard side hangars and we could arm them, but we couldn’t refuel them. In a few more hours I may know more but we need more hands. My executive officer is dead and so are most of his damage control parties.”
“I’ll have personnel transferred over and I’ll speak to you again. This is Lewis out.”
The Captain of Dauntless had already turned away from the screen before it blanked out. Lewis stared it, lost in thought until he caught movement in his peripheral vision.
“What is it, Captain?”
“Latest availability reports sir,” Sheehan replied as he handed over the computer pad.
Lewis scanned it. The list of ships reporting as fully combat worthy got shorter every day, while the list of those that were damaged but could still fight lengthened. But looming over both was that of the ships lost outright or that had been forced to limp over the system’s heliopause to be abandoned – so many fine ships and fine crews gone.
“And what of enemy losses?”
“Page four, sir.”
In contrast, this list was heartbreakingly short. The Nameless were expending ammunition, the Home Fleet was expending ships. The Nameless had bled fighters. By now there could barely be a human fighter pilot that hadn’t made ace, but their enemy still seemed able to keep their carriers fully stocked. Lewis had expected that by now some element of desperation would be creeping into their tactics, but not so. So far the Nameless had continued to snipe from a distance, largely safe from retaliation. They seemed to have abandoned their attempts to put in another gate. Did they realise the futility of it while the Home Fleet was in system or – and this was the stuff of nightmares – were supplies making it across the Rift by some other route?
“Order the Twentieth Destroyer Squadron along with the Io and the Third Cruiser Squadron to escort the barrage ship Piper to the supply fleet. All of them are to refuel and arm. We have three dedicated reconnaissance ships left. I want them dispatched to the three closest solar systems on this side of the Rift.”
Almost as soon as he spoke the order Lewis wished he had not. He could reverse it, only Sheehan would know but even that would be too little too late. He had just verbalised doubt.
___________________________
Black Prince edged alongside the Ohio and a series of clunks echoed through the ship as the magnetic clamps locked onto the hull. The robotic arms quickly got the fuel hoses into position and Berg felt at least one source of tension melt away. She’d never seen fuel levels so low on any ship that wasn’t actually in space docks. They’d been forced to shut down a reactor and actually dump mass to reduce fuel expenditure. Even at that they’d barely made it.
“Well, we found absolutely nothing,” said Ewald. “Our charts proved to be inaccurate, not by a lot but enough that the system was too far from the next one for the Nameless to transit through.”
“Well we struck gold,” Berg replied, before briefly outlining the destruction of the Nameless fuel depot. “The Worms might have all the ships from Landfall but by the time they reach the Spur, they’ll be flying on fumes.”
“Congratulations! Oh and our message drones obviously found Herald and Messenger. One of their drones was here by the time the Ohio arrived. They haven’t managed to catch up with the enemy but as soon as they were close enough, they launched a drone towards the Home Fleet to warn them what’s coming. I guess we should have thought of that.”
B
erg opened her mouth to reply then paused.
“What did the message say?” she asked.
“Here,” Ewald replied as he sent it across.
Berg read and as she did, a frown formed.
“Mutter des Gottes,” she muttered, “those fools should have sent nothing at all.”
Ewald looked nonplussed
“They’ve told the Home Fleet that over a hundred extra Nameless warships are about to arrive in theatre but there is no reference to their fuel situation. The Home Fleet won’t know that the Nameless are running on empty – that what is coming towards them is a glass hammer! Do you have a message drone?”
“No, when you were late arriving here, we launched our last one towards your position to double back here with any message you sent to it. It hasn’t arrived back yet. What about you?”
“We had to dump ours to make it here,” she replied as she felt a stab of bitter regret.
Everyone in the fleet knew the rough details, take the Spur then hold it. The Home Fleet’s exact situation was impossible to ascertain, but the message Lewis was about to receive indicated that a powerful, perhaps overwhelming, force was heading his way. How might he react to that intel? Could the war be lost for the sake of one message drone?
“Could you make a fast run to the Spur?”
“No,” Ewald replied without hesitation. “To get here as fast as we did, has already damaged my machinery. Zulu’s in no condition to make another fast run and that’s not the only factor. The fuel we have in our bunkers and Ohio’s tanks is enough to get us all back to the Junction Line from here. Go any further and that is no longer true.”
Berg made no reply as she mentally crunched the numbers. They’d lost ground on the Nameless coming up from Landfall. While the Worms couldn’t be going full burn, not if they were as short on fuel as she suspected, it was still unlikely she could get ahead. Or could she? After a long transit, any fleet would need to at least pause to reform and get the latest information on the tactical situation. That would take a minimum of a few hours, maybe even a day or more, depending on the situation. She could potentially get there before those additional units joined the fight. The message drone though would reach the Home Fleet hours before she could. Would Lewis act on the strength of that message or wait for evidence?
The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) Page 44
