Counterstrike (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 3)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “So the admiral has decided to act on my initial proposal,” Blake mumbled. “I have to admit that I’m surprised.”

  “Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Pike rolled his eyes. “Either way, we need to get you safely out of here.”

  “Couldn’t I have just asked to leave?”

  “Can’t chance it,” Pike shook his head. “The Council has already made noises about wanting to lay claim to your ships and I don’t trust any decision that comes out of the full session to be the right one.”

  “How are we even getting off the planet if the Fleet is already pulling chocks?” Blake asked. “My ship can’t come within the atmosphere.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” Pike said. “Now get your shoes on and fall in behind me. It may be a bit of a fight to get off the compound.”

  Once Blake slipped on the generic-looking civilian shoes he’d been supplied with, Pike opened the door and swung a vicious elbow directly into the temple of the guard on the right, dropping him where he stood. The CIS agent was turning before the first body hit the ground and smashed the heel of his palm into the other guard’s throat. When the guard dropped to his knees and began clawing at his throat, Pike drove a knee into the man’s face, splattering the door frame with blood. He took a quick look around before relieving the two badly injured guards of their weapons and comlinks.

  “It looks like they didn’t bother to call in my arrival,” he said as he thumbed through the menu on one of the comlinks. “This should buy us some more time. Let’s go.”

  Colonel Blake’s quarters were in guest billeting, not a secure facility. This worked greatly in Pike’s favor since the only real security presence was the two guards they’d posted ostensibly for the colonel’s protection. He’d disabled all the surveillance systems on his way in, but he couldn’t discount the possibility that there were failsafes somewhere that he’d been unable to detect. He also knew better than to underestimate Earth’s security forces. Despite his familiarity with the area, this was still their home turf.

  They made it all the way to the lifts without encountering any further resistance save for a startled woman who yelped at the appearance of two grown men sprinting towards her down a deserted corridor. Once in the lift car, Pike was able to override the security locks and descend all the way down into the subbasement two stories under street level.

  “This isn’t going to be the cleanest you’ve ever been, but we need to get out of the compound without being spotted,” Pike said as he pulled the heavy cover off one of the enormous ducts that was lined with power and data cables, just barely large enough for them to walk through slightly hunched over.

  “Is all of this really necessary?” Blake asked.

  “Honestly? Probably not,” Pike admitted. “But if I’m wrong, would you rather do this or allow Admiral Marcum to move his battleships into orbit and begin making threats in order to secure your release?”

  “Got it,” Blake nodded. “Let’s move.”

  They quickly moved down the access tunnel and came out into a darkened building that was just on the other side of the compound’s security wall.

  “This looks freshly cut.” Blake ran a finger over the shiny stubs of metal that used to be part of a heavy security grate.

  “How do you think I got in here?” Pike smiled. “Aston Lynch’s credentials may have given a couple of bored embassy troopers pause, but they wouldn’t have allowed me to move about the compound freely had I walked in through the main gate.” He carefully opened the steel exterior door a crack and listened. He could just make out the sirens wailing near the main gate as the compound initiated lockdown procedures.

  “We’re clear,” he said after a moment. “But we don’t have much time before they expand their search. I have a ground car a few streets over. We need to be as far away from the compound as we can get in a short amount of time.”

  “I’m ready,” Blake said. “Let’s just make a run for it.”

  “It’s as good a plan as any,” Pike shrugged.

  ****

  “Incoming channel request, Captain,” Lieutenant Keller said. “No specific identifier, but it’s routed through a military com satellite.”

  “Put it through here,” Jackson said. He had ordered the Ares into a descending orbit towards Earth, stabilizing their descent just before reaching the outer holding orbit controlled by the SDF. From there he’d waited patiently for some sign that Pike had been able to get Blake off the surface without sparking off an incident between Earth and the shambles that used to be the mighty Terran Confederacy.

  “Captain Wolfe,” an elderly man with a pinched face wheezed once the video had stabilized. “Minister Nelson would like to have a word with you.” Before Jackson could reply the man’s face disappeared and the face of an obviously angry Adavail Nelson replaced it.

  “Senior Captain,” she said with a cold glare. “I see you have returned to your ship and look to be making preparations to leave without so much as a notice sent to SDF Orbital Authority. Is there some reason in particular the Fleet is leaving the Solar System just prior to the scheduled full session?”

  “My apologies for breaking protocol, Madam Minister,” Jackson said with genuine respect. “I’ve been ordered away by my commanding officer and, in spite of recent occurrences, this is still a Confederate warship and I am still a Fleet officer so I have little choice in the matter.”

  “I see,” she said. “I suppose since Admiral Marcum’s ship was the first out of the system there’s no point in asking him what is going on.” Nelson continued, “What is of great concern to us, however, is that Colonel Robert Blake appears to have been abducted. Many of our guards were injured during the operation and I’d like to know if you are harboring a citizen of Earth on your ship. It’s the last one left in the system, after all, and I’m told you’ve been in a decaying orbit dropping back towards the surface.”

  “I can say with certainty that Colonel Blake is not aboard the Ares nor did any of my crew have anything to do with his disappearance,” Jackson said.

  “How carefully worded,” Nelson deadpanned. “Captain Wolfe … if you know anything about the bizarre events that have taken place in the last few hours I would appreciate you sharing. We accepted the remnants of your tattered government to our planet, your homeworld, without question. We certainly never anticipated this sort of blatant disrespect in response to our hospitality.”

  “I am truly sorry, Madam Minister,” Jackson sighed. “I can tell you no more than I already have.”

  “Very well, Captain,” Nelson said. The channel closed, and before Jackson could ask if it had been unintentionally dropped he had his answer.

  “Captain, two SDF cruisers are coming over the horizon on a direct intercept course,” Barrett said. “No targeting radars yet.”

  “They won’t actually bring weapons to bear on us,” Jackson said confidently. “This is a face-saving maneuver by the SDF. They’ll make a big show of chasing us out of the system to avoid looking completely impotent when the full session convenes later.”

  “I’m getting a coded burst transmission, unknown source,” Keller said. “Running decryption now.”

  “If I was to guess I’d say our elusive CIS spook is calling in to let us know they’re off the surface,” Jackson said. “Nav! Plot a course to the outer system and send it to the helm. Make sure we avoid those cruisers but try not to make it look like we’re running. A Fleet destroyer does not flee from a pair of antique cruisers, after all.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Specialist Accari said from the Nav station. “Course plotted and transferred to the helm.”

  “Helm, come about onto the new course. All ahead one-third.”

  “Ahead one-third, aye.” The helmsman began swinging the nose of the Ares onto their new course and advanced the throttles.

  “Transmission confirmed, Captain,” Keller said. “Pike and Blake are aboard the Broadhead in low-orbit. He’s asking for a bit of a distract
ion so he can climb out and make his way to the jump point unnoticed.”

  “Of course he is,” Jackson muttered before pulling up a chart of the system. “Helm, come starboard forty-two degrees, thirteen degrees inclination.”

  “Helm answering new course.”

  “Engines ahead flank,” Jackson said. “OPS, inform Engineering that we’ll be running at full power out into the outer system.”

  “Ahead flank, aye!”

  “This course doubles us back towards those SDF cruisers, sir,” Davis said quietly.

  “Yes it does, Lieutenant,” Jackson nodded. “But not so direct a route that they’ll think we’re turning in on them to open fire. We have the advantage of a higher orbit. Even at such a close range those cruisers won’t have the power to come about and climb up out of the well before we’re already by and appearing to be on a direct course for a Martian intercept.”

  “I see now.” She looked over her own display. “This is your distraction?”

  “Just a bit of theatrics,” Jackson said. “They won’t know why we’ve suddenly slammed into full acceleration away from Earth and towards Mars. There will be a bit of hesitation that should allow Pike to slink off and we’ll have not wasted any propellant as we’ll achieve our transition velocity well before we hit the jump point. It’s a relatively transparent ploy, as the cruiser COs know we won’t actually be attacking them, but for the sake of their own performance they’ll have to respect our move and respond by either slowing or turning in.”

  As he’d predicted, the two cruisers began braking to keep the destroyer out in front of them for as long as they could. Both sides knew it was inevitable that the Ares would blow by and be out of range in a matter of hours, just as they all knew that nobody was actually going to make an overt threat towards the other. All it did was allow the SDF commanders to report back to the Council that they’d tried to apprehend the Starwolf-class destroyer but were simply outmatched.

  “Coms, any further word from our CIS asset?”

  “Negative, Captain,” Keller said. “No chatter on the open bands that would indicate they’ve been spotted either.”

  “Very well,” Jackson said. “Nav, set a course for the Alpha Centauri jump point, maintain acceleration for now. I want to be out of this system ASAP.”

  “Aye, sir,” Accari said. “Sending course adjustments to the helm now.”

  “Lieutenant Davis, you have the bridge,” Jackson stood up. “You’re clear to prepare the Ares for warp transition. Alert me when we’re two hours from our jump point.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Chapter 6

  The bridge of the Ares was practically silent as they drifted through the Alpha Centauri System. Since there was only one known jump point from Earth they had no choice but to pass through the system and look at the horrific aftermath of the attack on Haven through the sensors while flying along to the New Sierra jump point.

  As per the final request from the Council of Nations that came in just prior to the Ares transitioning out of the Solar System, they launched a com drone with a message from Earth meant for general dissemination: Confederate ships were not welcome in the Solar System nor would they be given safe passage. Jackson was dismayed by the message, but he understood it. The Haven-Earth jump point was rarely used and there was legitimate concern that if more and more ships were using the warp lane between the two systems that the Phage might more easily detect the presence of a lightly defended human planet.

  There was no real agreement on how the Phage were finding planets, but a popular theory was that well-used warp lanes were somehow detectable. It was possible that the passing ships in warp were somehow affecting space in a way that wasn’t detectible to humans, or it was possible the Phage were able to detect ships in warp with a degree of accuracy that allowed them to backtrack a flightpath. It was all fairly academic to Jackson. His job was to fight the Phage wherever they showed up, but now it seemed that he’d been given a chance to really settle the score. If Colonel Blake was being honest, and there was no reason to believe that he wasn’t, then it was possible to deliver a crushing blow to their enemy that they likely wouldn’t recover from. Either way, it was something they had to try. If the Battle of Nuovo Patria taught them anything it was that even a combined Terran fleet couldn't expect to stand toe to toe with the Phage and slug it out in a conventional fight.

  “How long until we hit the New Sierra jump point?” Jackson asked.

  “Fourteen hours, sir,” Specialist Accari said without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Lieutenant Davis, when we make our closest pass to Haven I want a general announcement to render honors to starboard.” Jackson consulted his display to see where their flightpath would orient them in the system.

  “I’ll handle it, Captain,” Davis said quietly. Jackson nodded and turned back to his display. He was in the middle of drafting a request to CENTCOM to get Davis officially promoted up to lieutenant commander in order to continue allowing her to serve as XO on the Ares. Her time in grade was a bit on the short side, but he figured her actions during the last battle should grease the wheels and get it through quickly even as scattered as CENTCOM was at the moment. It felt like an odd time to be concentrating on the mundane parts of command like getting his people promoted and recognized, but maybe it was better to try and shift back to some sort of normalcy given what the crew would likely be facing in the near future.

  “Do you think the other numbered fleets will answer the admiral’s call, sir?” Davis asked after a few moments.

  “I’m not really sure, Lieutenant,” Jackson admitted. “These are unprecedented times. I would hope that the commanders and crews of any Terran warship understand what’s at stake, but many of them were appointed as political favors so I wouldn’t want to make any bets as to where their loyalties actually lie.”

  “I hope you’re wrong about that, Captain,” she said.

  “As do I, Lieutenant,” Jackson nodded.

  ****

  “Transition complete, position verified: we’re in the DeLonges System,” Accari said. “Plotting course for the New Sierra Shipyards.”

  “Picking up a lot of com traffic in this system, Captain,” Lieutenant Keller said. “Forty-six separate transponders verified so far, with more coming in every minute.”

  “That’s heartening,” Jackson said. “Go ahead and announce our arrival, Mr. Keller. OPS, find out where Ninth Squadron is down there and send the coordinates to Nav.”

  “At once, sir,” Ensign Hayashi said. The young officer had settled into his role as first watch OPS Officer so well that Davis rarely had to offer any assistance, which in turn allowed her to concentrate more fully on learning the ins and outs of being second in command on a starship.

  “Helm, take us down, ahead one-half once you get your updated course,” Jackson said.

  “Ahead one-half, aye.”

  “Sir, most of these ships are Fourth Fleet,” Keller said, still reading off the transponder codes as they were resolved.

  “That makes sense,” Jackson said. “In the immediate aftermath New America likely recalled their forces to a strategic chokepoint in order to think over their next move. Let’s just keep this as simple as possible … has Admiral Marcum’s squadron of Dreadnought-class ships arrived yet?”

  “Yes, sir,” Keller said.

  “Send a direct message to the Amsterdam letting him know we’ve arrived in-system and will be forming up with the rest of the Ninth,” Jackson said. “OPS, try to see if our friends in the Vruahn ships have managed to make it here yet.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  It was another three hours before responses and direct messages began filtering in from the chaos of the inner system. Jackson had ordered the Ares into a leisurely descent down from the jump point near the edge of the system to let his OPS and Tactical officers gather as much intel as they could about the huge, haphazard formation that was buzzing about in orbit over New Sierra.

  “Sir,
we’re being given new orders,” Keller said as he tried to sift through the incoming com traffic. “Admiral Marcum is moving his squadron in orbit around the sixth planet and is ordering the Ninth to form up on him. The Vruahn squadron is already there.”

  “Was there anything else in the message?” Jackson asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “Very good. Send the new rendezvous coordinates to Nav,” Jackson stood. “Helm, engage on new course when you get it. Ahead two-thirds.”

  “Ahead two-thirds, aye.”

  The long flight down the well from the outer system was filled with a seemingly never-ending list of administrative tasks that, inexplicably, CENTCOM was still able to generate despite having lost nearly three-quarters of its command and control apparatus with the loss of Jericho Station. By the time the enormous Dreadnought-class battleships were appearing at the periphery of the Ares' navigation radar’s detection range Jackson had managed to complete all his paperwork, submit the reports that the brass on New Sierra were squawking about, and even managed to sneak in six hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  It didn’t take long once the Ares slipped into formation for Admiral Marcum to send word that he wanted Jackson to shuttle over to the Amsterdam for a classified briefing with Colonel Blake. Jackson had more or less been expecting this, so he had already turned the ship over to Lieutenant Davis and had Commander Juarez prep a shuttle and crew to ferry him over. With one last wary look at the tactical display that was showing all the Fourth Fleet firepower orbiting New Sierra, he walked off the bridge on his way to the hangar bay.

  ****

  “Captain Wolfe, thank you for coming,” Admiral Marcum said as Jackson was escorted through a security checkpoint and into a secure briefing room. Jackson just nodded and quickly moved to the indicated seat. A quick look around showed that it would be a small group, but there was no shortage of clout. Senator Augustus Wellington was in attendance, as were Colonel Blake and Agent Pike. There were a handful of other flag officers that Jackson didn’t recognize by sight and a few more people in civilian clothes. At least this wasn’t likely to be more of the same. With a gathering like this Jackson assumed that they were there to begin finalizing their strategy.