Counterstrike (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 3)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “We all do,” Jackson nodded. “Let’s get to it.”

  ****

  “Thank you for indulging me, Captain,” Jackson said. “I appreciated the tour.”

  “It was our honor to have you aboard the Icarus, Senior Captain,” Celesta nodded, laying it on thick in front of her staff officers. “I wish you could stay for Captain’s Mess.”

  “As do I,” Jackson smiled. “But the Ares is still not quite one hundred percent and Admiral Marcum has been quite clear that the Ninth will be mobilizing with the rest of the fleet.”

  “I understand, sir,” Celesta said. “I trust you can find your way back to your shuttle?”

  “I can,” Jackson shook her hand. “Thanks again.”

  Jackson turned and walked quickly back down the corridor, his prosthetic starting that annoying squeak again that Daya swore he’d taken care of. He wanted to make sure he was back aboard the Ares and ready for power testing on the main engines now that she was out of the dock and being prepped for powered flight. There was also the fact that he’d like to get the overly large cargo shuttle back aboard his own ship before the Amsterdam came back around the planet and uncomfortable questions were raised about why he hadn’t just taken a tender out on his unannounced inspection of the Icarus.

  ****

  “Engineering reports that the primary flight systems have passed all tests with flying colors, Captain,” Hayashi read off his terminal. “Commander Singh says he is clearing the Ares for full duty.”

  “Give Engineering my compliments, Lieutenant,” Jackson stood. “And then inform the rest of the crew that we are now at full operational status and normal watches are to resume immediately.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “XO, prepare the Ares for departure,” Jackson ordered. “We will be moving into the lead of the formation ahead of the Icarus.”

  “Aye, sir,” Davis said.

  “Let’s look alive everyone!” Jackson said as he walked off the bridge. “Admiral Marcum wants to depart the DeLonges System in fifteen hours and there will be no excuses accepted for being late for the battle.”

  He worried that maybe he and Davis were laying it on a little thick, but he couldn’t help it. For some reason there was a bubbling exuberance in him that he could not explain nor contain. Maybe it was because, for the first time since the war had been brought to them, they were getting ready to take the offensive and punch back. It could be that the thing he thought he would never see, the end of the war in his lifetime, was now just on the horizon. Or maybe it was just true what most of his superiors said about him: he was at his happiest when he was bucking the chain of command regardless of justification. Either way, they were now committed and by the end of the voyage they would either be victors, criminals, or both.

  Despite Singh clearing the Ares for duty there was still a ton of work to do before she transitioned out of the system with the rest of the fleet. The work crews from New Sierra, most of whom were civilian contractors, had left the ship an utter wreck by Fleet standards. Trash littered the corridors, greasy handprints adorned polished surfaces, and a fine sheen of grime coated most of the decks that had seen heavy repairs.

  There was one person who was ecstatic about this: Master Chief Green. He walked through the filthy corridors with a childlike glee as he shouted strings of obscenities about civilians, to and about the spacers trying to clean it up, and to the universe itself. He declared in booming tones that the “party was fucking over” and that “you lazy shitbirds have had it too easy with a brand new ship.” Jackson tried not to crack a smile as miserable faces turned up to him in mute appeal as he walked down the corridors, checking on the rest of his own little side projects.

  When all was made as ready as it could be, and he was able to convince Chief Green that the rest of the field day could wait until they were in warp, Jackson went back up to the bridge to wait pensively as Admiral Marcum deployed the rest of the fleet out in the order they would leave the DeLonges System. Soon on the tactical display it looked as if an enormous, pointed comet was streaking through the system as over two thousand Terran starships formed up with the Ares at the lead. It was an awesome sight and, for just a second, Jackson had a twinge of doubt about what he was about to do.

  “We just received word from the Amsterdam,” Keller said. “We’re clear to begin accelerating to transition velocity and come on course for the Salamis jump point.”

  “Nav! Enter the new course, if you will.” Jackson fidgeted in his seat. “Helm, you’re clear to engage when you have it. Ahead full all the way to our transition velocity.”

  “New course received,” the helmsman said. “All engines ahead full, aye.”

  “The rest of the squadron is moving into transition formation behind us,” Hayashi said. “Engineering reports the warp drive is ready.”

  “Excellent,” Jackson said. “Continue monitoring the rest of the squadron and make certain everyone maintains their intervals. Let’s try to set a high bar for the rest of the fleet. XO, the ship is yours … go ahead and take her out of the system.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Davis stood up. “I have the ship.”

  Jackson sat back and watched as Davis went about the rather mundane routine of prepping the destroyer for faster than light flight mode. Everything had been worked out to the best of their ability, and he was about to take one of the biggest gambles of his life, but it wasn’t just his life he was worried about. He was also taking the crew of the Ares with him, and a large part of him wondered what right he had to take advantage of their loyalty and order them on what could end up being a suicide run.

  On the other hand … damn near every mission they’d had for the last five years could be considered a suicide run.

  Chapter 20

  “Incoming transmission for you, Admiral. Text only, it’s marked as originating from the Ares.”

  “Send it to my comlink,” Marcum said as he paced the bridge of the Amsterdam.

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  Icarus failed to make the rendezvous. Com drone arrived stating they had powerplant problems and were returning to New Sierra. – Senior Captain Wolfe

  Marcum read the short message a few times before walking over to a terminal and brining up a command-level interface to check on something. To his mild surprise the message seemed to be legit. The Ares’ transponder was squawking at the lead of the now three-ship formation of the Ninth, and the Icarus wasn’t showing up on the display anywhere. He also backtracked the message and saw that it had originated from Wolfe’s command codes and had been sent from his terminal on the bridge.

  Satisfied that Wolfe was still playing it straight, he punched in a quick response and walked back over to the middle of the two-tiered bridge of the Amsterdam, a chaotic hub of activity where Fleet spacers were managing both the operations aboard the mighty battleship as well as tracking all other ships in the armada as they filtered into the first rendezvous point. There were twenty-nine more of them to go on this mission and he had no doubt that the Icarus wouldn’t be the first ship to not make it to the final staging point. He cursed the bad luck of one of his fastest ships and best captains falling out so early. But Celesta Wright was a resourceful young commander. She might yet find a way to get there in time.

  ****

  Understood. Press on for now with your remaining ships. Send a com drone back for the Icarus and have Wright try to catch up if they can get their power issues sorted in time. – Admiral Marcum

  Celesta closed the message on her comlink, her stomach tied in knots. She was now fully committed to the plan that Jackson Wolfe had set into motion earlier in the DeLonges System. Her faith in the senior captain, a man she considered a mentor, was unshakable, but that still didn’t prevent her from getting a case of the nerves from lying to a flag officer, falsifying official records, flying under a false registration, knowingly assisting in the stealing of a Fleet vessel … the list of transgressions at her court martial would be as long as it was imp
ressive. Yet below that roiling layer of semi-panic was a calm, resolute feeling that things would work out exactly as they were supposed to, and she knew that her faith would not be misplaced.

  Wolfe would not fail. The man had the uncanny ability to see through the fog and quickly latch onto a decisive, sometimes shocking course of action that was eventually proven to be right even when at the time most people were screaming that he was a madman and needed to be removed from command. Her first watch bridge crew and her Marine detachment commander were all aware of what she was attempting and had agreed to humor her, for now. But the understanding was that if shit went sideways and Marcum discovered what was going on she would be the one to take the full brunt when he dropped the hammer.

  “Nav, set course for our next jump point and stand by for word from the Amsterdam that we’re departing the system.” She sat down in her seat and shook her head at the proffered mug of tea from her OPS officer. Celesta couldn’t seem to get it through the young ensign’s head that she didn’t actually care much for tea, at least not the variety stocked in the galley, despite her Britannic accent.

  “Course set, ma’am,” the chief at Nav reported. “Helm standing by when we get word.”

  “Now the waiting game,” Celesta mumbled to herself.

  ****

  “Position confirmed,” Accari said. “We’re just outside the DeLonges-Xi’an warp lane.”

  “Contact off the port bow, range ninety thousand kilometers,” Barrett said. “Confirmed identity on one Vruahn warship.”

  “That would be Colonel Blake,” Jackson said. “Now we’re just waiting for a CIS Broadhead to make an appearance.”

  It was another four hours before the transition flash lit up their optical sensors and the stealthy black ship glided into formation just behind and below the Ares. Jackson took a deep breath and looked around the bridge at all the expectant faces.

  “This is it, everyone. Last chance for anyone who wants to back out,” he said. “Past this point we are all committed and will be forced to accept the responsibility and the blame equally in order to protect those below decks that still think we’re heading to meet up with the rest of the fleet. Is anyone having second thoughts to the point that they’d like to be relieved of duty?” Nobody raised their hands, coughed, or even shifted in their seats. They all looked tense, but determined and confident as well.

  “Very well,” Jackson nodded. “Let’s get to work then. Coms, get me a networked connection with the other two ships and have the bridge staff meet in the command deck conference room.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  ****

  “So this could be the last ride,” Pike said, leaning back in his seat on the bridge of his ship, feet propped up on the console. “I’d say that either way we won’t survive, but the mission could mean complete victory over the Phage or a retaliatory strike that takes out all of humanity.”

  “Thank you for that cheery assessment,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “At least you seem to think that we’re on the right track in the first place.”

  “I’ve seen the data,” Pike shrugged. “I have no doubt that you and Blake are on the right track. But there’s a lot that we don’t know. I can’t imagine that the big brain is just sitting there on an asteroid completely unprotected.”

  “We also don’t know what sort of capabilities this entity might have,” Blake added as his video feed stabilized. “I do know that the Vruahn were afraid of it. They were perfectly content to keep as much distance between it and them as possible, so it may be more than just a processing center.”

  “Great news,” Pike snorted. “So did you manage everything on your end, Colonel?”

  “I did,” Blake nodded. “The rest of my strike force is ranging ahead of the Terran fleet as agreed to with Admiral Marcum. They will sniff out any danger and understand their secondary duties to try and keep the fleet safe for as long as possible. I was also able to safely pick up our guests, thanks to you.”

  “My pleasure,” Pike smiled. “Are they settling in?”

  “Let’s try to move this along,” Jackson said sternly. “Are the Vruahn onboard with you helping us with this? I don’t want to get halfway there and have them shut down power to your ship.”

  “It took some fast talking, but I was able to convince them that it was a small gamble that could lead to a huge payoff,” Blake said. “They’re still shaken up by the Phage directly attacking them and hitting their power generation facilities. I won’t swear to it, but I’m getting the hint that the Vruahn may have some sort of agreement with the Phage that keeps them from directly confronting each other.”

  “That is truly fascinating … and frightening,” Jackson said. “But ultimately way outside of our sphere of responsibility. I’ve had my navigation specialists looking over the proposed course and it looks like we’ll get to the target at least a full month before the combined fleet begins trickling into their last staging point. This will be cutting things tight. Ideally I’d like to eliminate the target and have Colonel Blake’s strike force intercept Marcum and turn him back before they engage that Phage swarm.”

  “I’d say we’d better get moving then,” Blake said. “Do you want to transfer the NOVA team over to your ship before we get underway, Captain?”

  “I think it’d be best to leave them over on your ship for now,” Jackson shook his head. “You’ve got more room and it’ll cut down on any friction between them and my Marines.”

  “Some things never change, I see,” Blake smiled. “I’ll be departing immediately then. I’ll be making short hops along the course you’ll be taking to ensure there are no hazards along the way.”

  “Alright then,” Jackson stood slowly. “Let’s get to it. Good luck, gentlemen.” He terminated the link between the other two ships and made his way back to the bridge. There was an anxious energy coursing through him to get started so he could be finished with the task ahead, and he had to temper that with a reminder that they were still several months of hard flying away from even getting started. They weren’t going as far as Marcum’s combined fleet, but they also had no supply chain or support ships going with them. Anything that happened that couldn’t be handled by a field repair meant that it was a one-way trip for them.

  “Captain,” Davis nodded and vacated his seat. “How did it go?”

  “We’re all set,” Jackson said. “Everyone managed to pull off their part without raising any obvious suspicions. As long as Captain Wright has managed to fool Marcum into believing the Icarus is the ship that dropped out and not the Ares then we’ll be in good shape, at least for this phase of the operation.”

  “Shall I go ahead and alert the crew?” she asked.

  “Proceed,” Jackson said. “Inform Major Ortiz that you’re broadcasting and have his men on alert.”

  “Yes, sir.” She walked over the OPS station and began instructing Ensign Hayashi on what to do.

  Within the next five minutes a speech that he’d prerecorded in his office began playing all through the ship. He ignored his own likeness on the main display and scrolled through the internal security feeds, trying to gauge the reaction of his crew as they listened to him lay out the case for once again giving CENTCOM the middle finger and flying out on his own, taking them along for the ride whether they wanted to go or not.

  This time he spared no detail. He laid out the specifics of his case and why he needed them to follow him just one more time. Inspirational speeches were not his strong suit, nor were they something he particularly enjoyed. It felt too much like a performance piece in which he leveraged the loyalty and patriotism of his people in an effort to get them to act in a manner that was against their own best interests. Despite always feeling grubby afterwards, he also knew it was one of his most effective tools to keep his crew motivated and running towards the same goal. Since he couldn’t operate the ship without them, he would once again swallow his distaste and do what he needed to do for the greater good.

  One big d
ifference this time around was that he kept his Marine detachment commander firmly in the loop, a lesson he’d learned the hard way during an attempted mutiny on his previous ship. Now Major Jeza Ortiz was a trusted confidant that was part of his inner circle. The major, full of shame and embarrassment that some of his men had participated in the incident aboard the Blue Jacket, now kept a watchful eye on his charges and made certain he knew where their loyalty lay.

  “Reports are coming in, Captain,” Davis said after the video had concluded and section chiefs and department heads were asked to report in. As he usually did, Jackson offered anybody not comfortable with his decision to relieve themselves of duty and they’d be confined to berthing with no consequences. There were always a few that simply were not comfortable with a CO that admitted he was disobeying orders and violating the chain of command.

  “What’s the damage?” he asked, hoping he didn’t lose too many people from key departments.

  “Zero objectors, sir,” she said with obvious pride in her voice. “All departments report that they have one hundred percent willing participation.”

  “That’s somewhat surprising.” Jackson wasn’t sure what else to say. The complete and unequivocal support of his crew meant a lot and it turned his resolve to steel. The Ares was no longer a starship with a rogue captain, she was now a rogue warship with a crew that would fight together to the end.

  “Coms! Report to the Broadhead that we will be departing the area immediately. Nav, send the second waypoint to the helm and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Aye, sir,” Accari said. “Course sent.”

  “Helm! Come onto new course and accelerate to transition velocity, all engines ahead full!” Davis called out as Jackson sat back in his seat.

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” the helmsman said. “All ahead full!”

  In an unknown and unimportant region of interstellar space the Terran destroyer surged forward, winking out of existence in a burst of visible light released by the formation of the warp distortion fields.