Hide the Lightning

by Kevin Steverson

  “From the looks of it, the same as you my friend. I am weary,” answered the leader of the Kashkal. “I have ordered three more ships to go back with the others near the planet and the troop carrier. The damage to them is too great to risk another engagement until they have time for some repairs. I am sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Harmon said. “I may send a few with them. I’m glad you caught up with us. Maybe now we can end this. What are your missile stores looking like?”

  “Low,” admitted Rick. “This Bleeve commander is using tactics I have never personally seen, circling out of reach, only to shift in and launch missiles. I have searched our records, and I found something similar.”

  “Did you?” Harmon asked sliding to the front of his seat. “What’s the deal?”

  “I believe he is waiting for reinforcements,” Rick said.

  “Squat!” Harmon said. “We’re on the same wavelength. I was just now thinking that.”

  “It is the only explanation,” Rick surmised.

  “Yeah,” Harmon agreed. “I don’t think they were able to get a call out with Bahroot’s jamming. Before he moved out of range of the gate’s signal, he put in a timed program to block all communication through it for three more days, just in case.”

  “A wise move,” Rick said, “but they may have had a prearranged signal. If they didn’t check in on time, reserves would leave the Bleeve System and come here.”

  “Squat!” Harmon exclaimed again. “We need to do something soon. We’re beat up pretty bad. Every ship in the fleet has taken damage. We’ve lost some crew members and fighter pilots.”

  “As have we,” Rick answered. “My fighters are low on fuel. Not only the fighters, but the fuel tanks on my ships for them.”

  “I hear you,” Harmon said. “We’re nearly out of the small missiles our fighters use. They’re down to their lasers.”

  “If I think of something, I’ll let you know,” Harmon said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Until then, be ready to launch if they circle back in range. They have to be in as bad a shape as we are by now, but you never know.” He cut the link.

  After a few minutes he engaged the comms again. On the main screen, Evelyn looked back at him. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he could read how exhausted she was on her face. “Hey, you,” he said.

  “Hey,” she answered. “You look like I feel.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “How are you holding up?” Harmon asked.

  “Ok. We fixed some damage to the forward shields, so we’re at forty percent,” she answered. “No loss of life on the ship, but we lost eighteen pilots, and twenty more fighters are useless. I’ve taken in the fighters from Special Delivery after you had it move away toward Zynalt. We still have plenty of fuel for the rest of them, but I’ve received calls from some of the smaller ships, and their fighters are landing in our bay for refueling and heading back over to their ships.”

  “Well, that’s one thing in our favor, anyway.” He sighed. “We can’t make a break for the gate and try to resupply in Salvage, either. They’ll be right behind us going into our system, and we sure can’t bring this into another system looking for help. The Tretrayon System is still rebuilding their fleet. They didn’t have the luxury of a combined shipyard and plenty of salvaged ships to work with.”

  “You’ll figure something out,” Evelyn said. “I have faith in you. Hey, I gotta run. Lot’s going on.”

  “Go,” Harmon said to his fiancé. “We’ll talk later.” The screen went blank.

  “Sir, their formation is shifting again, they’ll be in range in three minutes,” announced the tactical officer.

  “Here we go again,” Harmon said. “Thanks, Adam.”

  Once again, the fleets traded missile salvos. Two of Task Force Delta’s ships came apart under the onslaught, and shuttles were dispatched across the fleet to gather the rescue pods. Harmon knew the enemy was taking the same type of damage, but it was looking worse all the time.

  * * *

  Hours Later

  “Salvage Title, The Reckoning,” came across the emergency channel. It overrode normal communications. It sounded urgent.

  “Talk to me, E,” Harmon said.

  “We have emergence! Launching missiles now!” Captain Ellotta shouted, and the link cut.

  “Jayneen!” Harmon shouted into the air.

  “Thirty ships have entered the system,” Jayneen announced. “They’re Bleeve warships. Task Force Bravo has engaged them near the gate. It appears as if they aren’t attempting to turn and fight, though they’ve launched multiple salvos at Captain Ellotta’s task force.”

  “I knew it!” Harmon slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. “Can you tell me what they have?”

  “It looks like fifteen older light battlecruisers, fourteen I would designate as destroyers, and a large supply ship of some sort,” Jayneen answered. “It’s shielding is very substantial, but I detect very few weapons.”

  “Squat!” Harmon said once again. “The battlecruisers are bad enough with the shape we’re in, but if that supply ship is loaded with missiles, we’re through.”

  “I would agree,” the AI said.

  Harmon hit the comms on his chair and spoke to the entire fleet, “Alright, this is it. There’s a fleet of thirty ships coming from the gate. My guess is, they’re trying to meet up with the fleet that’s left guarding the system. We have no choice but to try and stop them. All ships, move to meet the incoming fleet at best speed.”

  As soon as the call ended, Harmon called Rick Kashka. “Rick, have your minelayer come across the rear of our formation. I know it’s out of mines, but the Bleeve don’t know that. Maybe it’ll keep them from trying to get us in a pinch. Fix what you can. At the rate we can all move, we’ll meet them in two hours. They’re moving fast, but not fast enough to swing away from us and accomplish their mission without engaging.”

  “Yes,” Rick answered, “I can do that. The mines were used in the initial engagement, but the ruse may work.”

  “Thanks,” Harmon said, “we have to try everything we can.” He cut the link.

  “Hey, man,” Clip said on Harmon’s personal comm. “The dude in charge over there may not even try and catch us. Even if we stop the ships from meeting him, we’ll be out of missiles, and he can come wipe us out then.”

  “I know, buddy,” Harmon agreed. “I know.”

  * * *

  The Reckoning

  Captain Ellotta was looking at the reports of repairs on his slate when he heard the tactical officer shout, “Emergence! Multiple ships!”

  “Who?” demanded Captain Ellotta as he tossed the slate aside.

  “They’re Bleeve, sir!” answered the tactical officer.

  “Launching full salvo,” announced the weapons officer.

  “Task force has launched with us,” added the tactical officer. “There’re thirty ships. Fifteen are light battlecruisers.”

  Captain Ellotta hit the emergency channel on his chair comms and called Commodore Tomeral. The call didn’t last long.

  “They’re not slowing,” the tactical officer called out, “and they’ve launched in retaliation.” He paused. “Sir, three hundred missiles are inbound!”

  “Fire the scramblers and every shotgun missile! Tell the task force!” Ellotta shouted.

  Across the task force every ship that could launched anti-missile missiles and all their shotgun missiles. It was the only thing that saved some of the ships. Several took multiple hits, but it was nowhere near the devastation they could have suffered. If they hadn’t been flying in close formation, it never would have worked.

  Even with Captain Ellotta’s quick thinking, the task force was rendered useless. Engines were damaged. Power plants were shut down or destroyed. The task force was essentially drifting with their momentum. Once power was restored to communications, he ordered fighters and shuttles launched to latch onto the ships with their magnetic struts to stop the drift with
their thrusters. It would take a while to gather his force. Next, Captain Ellotta let the commodore know his status. Task Force Bravo was out of the fight.

  * * *

  Basher

  “Aye, laddy” Captain Rogers said to the screen.

  “Well, crap,” Cameron said. “We’re almost out, too. I’ve never had to use this many missiles in a battle. This is crazy.”

  “War doesn’t always go the way ‘tis supposed to,” the Rincah said. “How are ye faring?”

  “We’re alright, I guess,” Cameron said. “We lost two engines, a fusion plant, and almost all the shielding on the port side, but Windell is working on it. I’m down to one shocker missile left. I’ve got some others, but only one of them.”

  “Save it, lad,” advised Captain Rogers. “If Harmon figures out a way to win this, you can use it on that dreadnaught.”

  “Yeah!” Cameron brightened. “Then you can rip it open and board it, and squish all the Bleeve in it. We’ll help with our mechs.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Captain Rogers said. “Let’s take care of these newcomers, shall we? Out here.”

  “Do you really think we’ll pull this off, Captain?” asked Commander Miktar Jarth once the screen went blank.

  Dustin Rogers leaned back in his seat and looked at his executive officer, a stout Rincah like himself. He could see the ears drooping below the first curve of his horns. “I donnae know, but there’s no sense in scaring the poor lad to death now.”

  “Aye, sir,” agreed Micktar. “We’re moving with the rest of them to meet this new fleet. Forward shields have been repaired to seventy percent.”

  “That’s something, anyway,” Dustin said.

  “Aye, sir,” agreed the XO, “but we’re down to four salvos of missiles, and then she runs dry.”

  “There is that, Micktar,” Dustin said. “There is that.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  Salvage System

  Cube

  Suddenly, through the gate in the Salvage System, battleships popped into existence one after another in a seemingly endless formation. Mike Melton was watching the main screen on his bridge; it was tied into small sensor platforms so he could watch the gate itself.

  “Here they come,” Mike announced over the command net. “From what I can see, there’s thirty of them, and some of them are big!”

  “Roger,” Twiggy answered. “We see ‘em. They have a dreadnaught leading them. It’s outdated, but it’s still big as hell.”

  “Defensive Platforms One and Two are engaging,” Bradford added. “They’re barely out of Three and Four’s range. You gotta love those automated platforms, when you program them to fire on Bleeve-registered ships, anyway. They may turn away from them, and you can punch them in the ribs, Mike.”

  “That’s the plan,” Mike answered. “They’re turning; launching from two sides now.”

  “Good,” said a voice, “because those of us on Defensive Platforms Seven through Twelve would like to remind everyone that we’re not automated. Do us a favor and stop them before they get this deep into the system.”

  Fifty missiles left the launchers on two sides of Cube. Mike turned it so a corner was facing the incoming fleet. The huge ship rotated, and a hundred more missiles leapt from it. All were aimed at the dreadnaught. Once the ship’s bay was facing away from the enemy, sixty-two fighters roared out of it in anticipation of the dogfight to come.

  As big as the dreadnaught was, it couldn’t take the pounding from the pulse cannons and all the missiles that made it through its defenses. It came apart in several huge explosions. Immediately one of the heavy battlecruisers slid up to take its place in the formation. Its shield started taking hits from the Cube’s pulse cannons.

  Missiles from the defensive platforms began impacting among the Bleeve ships. Several were damaged, and others destroyed outright. Their missiles came in toward Cube and the defending task force. The battle to defend Salvage System was on.

  After the new lead ship fell back, Mike was able to get off another salvo of missiles from two sides and several more cannon volleys with the new pulse cannons. Before the incoming fleet was out of range, two of the smaller ships were destroyed. It was not without cost. The Bleeve lasers on several ships fired one last shot at close range before they banked away.

  * * *

  Skrittle

  “All right, y’all,” Twiggy announced. “Here we go! Y’all fire ‘em up!”

  The missile frigate began firing missiles repeatedly. They flew out in all directions from the round ship, then turned and joined as one salvo, and headed toward their programmed destination. All around it, the other ships begin launching theirs.

  “Twelve missiles tracking us,” shouted the tactical officer.

  “Fire some dang shotgun missiles!” ordered Twiggy, “And roll away. This sucks. I’d rather be in a fighter. At least then it’s one on one…or maybe a couple of them.”

  “This is All Call Command,” announced a translated voice on the comms. “We are within range and launching at this time.” The mercenaries had determined among themselves that the Gorsian leader would be in charge of their combined fleet.

  “Nice!” Twiggy exclaimed. “Let’s see how they like that little surprise.”

  Missiles flew from two different task forces into the Bleeve formation. Their ships were struck several times after losing some shielding, and their new commander was clearly surprised by the sudden appearance of ships coming from around the gas giant. The Bleeve ships turned in a wide arc away from all the defenders, leaving some of the fighters to their fate. Those were quickly taken care of by the four Nilta fighters zipping around and through their formations at a speed the Bleeve couldn’t hope to match.

  The ships that turned away were struck by several more salvos from the two defensive platforms before they were destroyed by lasers. Out on the edge of the system, twenty Bleeve ships formed back up in two offset wedge formations. The sensors showed the formations shifting until they were stacked.

  By this time the Mercenary Fleet and the Salvage Defense Fleet were combined. None of the defending ships had been destroyed, but all had taken damage. Several were out of the fight. The Gorsian gunships were dispatched to finish off two Bleeve ships struggling to get out of range. One destroyer had only one engine, and the other only maintained its previous momentum.

  Twiggy reached down and engaged the comms on his chair again. “We hit ‘em hard y’all. I ‘preciate you mercs for helping out. The problem is, the surprise is over, and they know what they’re facing. I don’t know about y’all, but the missiles that hit us knocked the squat out of us.”

  “I suspect those were older versions,” Parlak LeeKa added, “imagine what the Fleets are encountering in the Nazrooth System.”

  “I know we’re down an engine, and I have a fusion plant giving my chief fits,” Bradford said.

  “We lost eighteen fighters, many more are damaged, and we all need to refuel,” JoJo said. “From the looks of it, the bay in Cube is not the place to do it. From what I can see, the sliding hinge is slag on the bay door. I’ll order them back to their base ships.”

  “Yeah,” Mike answered. “I have no shielding on two sides, and twenty percent on another. I’ve lost the use of half her launchers and the pulse cannons. She and my crew can’t take much more.”

  “I hear ya,” Twiggy said quietly. “Y’all repair what you can. I figure they’re doing the same.”

  The Bleeve stayed out on the edge of the system for several days. The Defense Fleet took advantage of the time to repair what they could. Twiggy knew it couldn’t last.

  Twiggy asked for a status on the command network, and all the ships reported in. The last to report in was the Kashkal training ship. Twiggy called it directly on the network. “Skrittle to The Trainer, are y’all good over there?”

  “We have repaired forward shields to fifty percent, but we cannot repair four of the launchers,” announced a Kashkal
voice. “The LeeKa is down in the power plant at this time.”

  “You think you can get the other fusion plant working?” asked Twiggy.

  “There’s no time,” Bradford interrupted. “They’re moving this way. We’re about to get punched right back. And they have three heavy battlecruisers leading the charge.”

  “Aw…hell,” Twiggy drawled.

  * * *

  Salvage Title

  Nazrooth System

  An hour before they came in range with the newcomers to the battle, Harmon made a decision to contact the troop transport ship. “Special Delivery, Salvage Title.”

  “Salvage Title, this is Special Delivery,” Captain Rothan answered.

  “Captain Rothan, I have a mission for you,” Harmon said, getting to the point.

  “Yes, sir,” Rothan said, “I thought it would be coming. I’ve been in contact with the six ships here with me near Zynalt. Two have locked on to our hull, and we’re their engines now, but it does add twelve working missile launchers to our capabilities. The other four can probably move with us, if you’re thinking what I think you are.”

  “I am,” Harmon confirmed. “Look, from what I can tell, the only ships orbiting the planet are the two troop transports they have. Your ship is a lot bigger, since it’s a converted colony ship. I know it doesn’t have a lot of weapons, but you’ve already added to what you have. If those other four ships can fight now that they’ve made some repairs, you can defeat those two ships, or at least run them off.”

  “Yes, sir, I agree,” concurred the Withaloo captain.

  “We’re about to meet this new threat,” Harmon said, “and to be honest, it’s not going to be an easy task. I don’t want two thousand troops still in your hold if they take us all out and come after you. At least on the ground, they have a chance.”