by Evan Currie
“We had to bash the cockpit a bit,” Steph admitted. “Milla Chans, meet Alexandra Black. Black, this is Chance.”
Milla looked up. “Chance?”
“Given that we picked you up in the middle of nowhere the first time we met,” Steph told her, “lady luck has to be riding on your shoulder. Chance is your name. Get used to it.”
Black chuckled over the link. “No one picks their call sign, Chance. Be happy it’s not a bad one.”
Milla was about to respond when a warning on her display distracted her. “I believe we may be about to become busy. Transition alert, a ship has entered the system.”
“Probably the Jánošík,” Stephanos said casually, “but you’re right, they’ll be bringing news. Where are they?”
“Coordinates to your HUD, Stephan.”
Steph checked the location, putting it up on an overlay of the system, and measured off the distance. “Black, I’m going to take my Tinkertoy squadron and have a look. See you on the way back.”
“Roger that. Good flying, Stephanos.”
Steph waggled the wings of the fighter automatically in response and again pushed the throttle forward, the blue flash signalling the shift to FTL velocities as he and the drone squadron accelerated away.
AEV Juraj Jánošík, Deep Space
“Transition complete.”
Aleska covered her mouth with the back of her hand, forcing down the urge to vomit. She really didn’t need the announcement to know that they had just completed a transition. The evidence of that was in her gut, the stench in the air from others with less solid stomachs, and the fact that they were still here. A failed transition wouldn’t leave much.
Still, she simply acknowledged the report and kept focusing on settling her stomach while the light-speed data came in through the scanners.
“Transponders for the Bell and Bo are up . . . Ma’am, the Odysseus is on station . . .” Jurgen paused, seeming to pull back a little in surprise. “I’m also showing the Big E, multiple Rogue transponders beyond our squadron, and two more Heroics . . . and that’s not counting the Priminae forces. There’s a small fleet out here.”
Aleska smiled despite her stomach. “That’s good to hear. Too bad they’re in the wrong place, then, isn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She queued up her report, along with the vector details for the last known enemy course, and sent them along to the Odysseus just as Jurgen yelped in surprise.
“Where the hell did they come from?” he swore, getting his reaction under control.
On the screen a small squadron of ships had appeared from nowhere, though as she watched, Aleska realized that they’d dropped from FTL and the light-speed data was catching up to their approach. She examined the squadron for a moment.
“It would appear to be a fighter squadron,” she said. “Makes one wonder just what the commodore has been up to out here.”
“Jánošík, Archangel Lead.”
Aleska smiled slightly. “Go for Jánošík Actual, Archangel.”
“Welcome to the party, Captain. I think you’ll find we’ve broken out all the new toys we could. It’s looking to be one for the ages.”
“So I see,” she replied. “We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the greeting.”
“Just being neighborly. Ciao Jánošík.”
The bridge crew watched the fighters sweep past the Jánošík before arching around and blinking out of existence as they went superluminal again.
“One for the ages indeed,” Aleska said. “Well, bring us into formation with the squadron. I expect that the commodore will want to be under way shortly.”
AEV Odysseus
Eric looked over the report from the Jánošík as the Rogue moved into formation with the squadron. Roberts’ plan had seemingly worked, though perhaps better than they might have wished in some ways.
“They’ve redirected their course toward . . .” He paused, examining the stellar map. “It seems the Doran System. That puts them on a least-time course for Ranquil, which might mean that they’re through playing games.”
He cocked his head to one side. “It also might mean that they’re trying to fake us out. On the plus side, they’re moving a lot more cautiously according to the last scans. That buys time, and anything that buys time is a good thing.”
He looked up at the conference of captains represented on the screens around him, from both Terran and Priminae ships, Heroic and Rogue alike.
“We will proceed to Doran but jump well outside the system and deploy to detect any approaching warp field. We need to ascertain as quickly as possible that Doran is their target. Is that clear?”
With no dissenters, Eric set the decision into the computer.
“Good. Stand by to transition as soon as we clear the heliopause. Odysseus and Enterprise will begin fighter recovery operations immediately.”
“Yes sir,” James replied, while Miram nodded firmly beside Eric and issued the orders with a few taps of her fingers.
“See you all on the other side,” he said to the captains. “Dismissed.”
Broken into uneven groupings, the Terran and Priminae vessels of the more than slightly ragtag flotilla broke position and began the short climb out of the system gravity well as the Odysseus and Enterprise recovered their fighters and drones.
Fifteen Heroic Class ships and a total of thirty Rogues, followed by scores of logistics and support vessels, made their way out beyond the star’s heliosphere and into the deep black as they calculated for transition and, in small groups, puffed briefly out of existence only to reappear over thirty light-years away.
Charged with facing a force that outnumbered them ten to one, with considerably higher mass ratios than that again, the newly formed fleet had a job to do.
CHAPTER 22
Lord’s Own Dreadnought, Empress Liann, Approaching Doran System
Jesan had ordered the fleet to descend to a mere tenfold light-speed as they approached the target system, scanners running full active ahead as they looked for any more of the infernal mines that had dogged their excursion into the Oather territory. Within minutes of the system they had found no signs of any such, but something else had shown up distinctly on the screens.
“Are they insane,” he asked over the commander’s network, eyes drifting to the small fleet that was awaiting them, “or merely foolish?”
“They are not foolish, My Lord,” Navarch Misrem said firmly. “Insanity is a measure beyond my expertise to diagnose, but I will say that much with certainty.”
Some of the other captains and commanders in the network objected, making veiled comments about the navarch’s recent record, but Jesan ignored them. He’d seen enough to recognize that there were, indeed, new elements at play in the Oathers’ sector. He was even considering holding the current system after taking it, at least until reinforcements could be sent.
Another sector fleet, perhaps.
Whatever it takes to finish this conflict that has now grown beyond its intended purposes and is threatening to become a true nuisance to the empress.
He would make that decision after he saw how the enemy reacted to this encounter. It was not an ideal solution, as it would involve another sector lord and be, in effect, admitting that he required aide. Neither were good things from his point of view, of course.
The small contingent ahead was not even a tenth of his forces, but they were clearly awaiting the sector fleet’s arrival. They knew he was coming and had not evacuated. If anything, they must have rushed into position, unless the Oathers had far more ships in their service than indications whispered.
“Slow us to sub-light as we approach within extreme weapon range.”
“Yes, My Lord,” his second responded quickly, and the orders went out.
No one would actually engage at such a range, so it was a safe position to assess the situation from if nothing else, but in theory a laser would still be destructive over the rather long distance between them.
The Imperial Fleet dropped to three-fifths light-speed, slowing to a relative crawl, and shifted into fight formations as the vessels beyond remained, holding station where they had been all along.
“My Lord, we’re detecting a significant number of smaller craft a distance away from the fleet,” his second informed him, pointing Jesan to a secondary display.
The fleet lord examined the ships and the related scans. “Transports, it would appear, unless they’re disguised warships as well.”
“The former seems likely, My Lord,” the navarch’s voice spoke over the command network. “While we never saw them use transports, my crews only encountered small squadrons of the enemy vessels. We do know, however, that they make use of consumable munitions. Resupply would be a necessity eventually.”
Jesan hummed and nodded his agreement. “Agreed. We will watch them, but given their position they are not a threat for the moment. Deploy Parasites,” Jesan ordered. “All ships begin our advance.”
“Yes, My Lord!”
AEV Odysseus
“Well, here they come,” Eric said as the light-speed data showed the ships had begun accelerating again, heading right toward the Allied fleet. He reached forward and keyed into the fleet command network. “Enterprise, deploy your Vorpals. Steph, you’re up.”
“Look at that,” Miram said, eyes on the screen. “They’re deploying those Parasites.”
Eric frowned deeply.
He’d known it was coming, of course, but each of those Parasite cruisers had similar firepower to a Rogue, if you discounted the antimatter pulse torpedoes at least. Since their mother ships were packing cruiser-level firepower themselves, that expanded the threat numbers significantly.
“Get a count on the enemy numbers,” he said, “but I want everyone standing by to fall back. We are not making this system our Alamo.”
“Aye aye, Skipper,” Heath said.
The Parasites made the enemy numbers closer to sixteen hundred vessels now in addition to the forty-five currently holding position against them.
“Let the Parasites get a little more clear of the cruisers,” Eric ordered, “then we’ll show them that we have a bigger bite than they think.”
“Aye aye.”
He let her set about the tasks ahead while he looked over the numbers that were beginning to filter in.
I think we’re going to need more munitions.
Steph poured on the power to the warp generator once he was clear of the Odysseus’ own fields, exulting in the blue flash as he broke into superluminal flight.
He checked the scanners, noting that the Tinkertoy squadron was holding with him.
The details were light, unfortunately, since at FTL the primary data channels were cut off. Any light-speed signals sent while the squadron was moving at FTL would simply be outraced the instant they left the warp-isolated section of space-time that contained the drones.
So all he had to work with was a very basic system code that could be transmitted via FTL bursts.
I wish Milla were here to run this crap, he thought, but the truth was that her skill set was too valuable on the Odysseus, so he was running solo.
“Odysseus, Archangel One. Going stealth,” Steph said as he reached out and flipped an old-style switch that he’d fought to keep from his fighter’s original configuration.
He couldn’t see the armor plate of his fighter, what there was of it now, or the rest of the coated materials exposed to vacuum, but Steph was aware that it was all changing over to a deep matte-black that would absorb everything. And he did notice that the sweeping hulls of the drones faded from their polished white steel and vanished from sight right on cue.
“Roger, Archangel, the commodore says ‘good hunting, Stephanos.’”
“Tell Raze I’ll bag my limit. Stephanos out, going dark,” he answered, killing his transponder and all outgoing communications before he shifted course and brought the drone wing around into an arc that broke wide from the more likely paths of laser exchanges.
Distrusting the systems, he continually wanted to check the presence of the drones as they held formation with him with the low-range FTL link. Flying dark, however, meant that he was as blind to them as they were to him. Only having coded the flight plan into them beforehand would keep them with him, and if he had screwed up, well, there would be a Dutchman flying around with a live antimatter load. As long as he stayed on plan, however, the drones should be right there with him.
Please God, don’t let me have screwed this up.
On the Odysseus’ bridge, Eric looked on at the approaching ships while he counted off the time. He didn’t want to smoke Steph or the Vorpals, who had similarly gone dark, so he was giving them plenty of time to get themselves clear of the approved lanes of fire.
“Lay in targeting data,” he ordered. “Pick ships to the center of the formation.”
“Aye Captain,” Milla Chans said from her post at the weapons station. “Targets have been made and assigned to all ships.”
“Lasers are free,” he ordered. “Fire.”
Distant, almost inaudible clicks could be heard as the closest of the capacitors discharged, followed by a soft hum as they began to recharge. The lasers of the small fleet opened up from the better part of an AU out, more than seven minutes from their targets. In theory a laser would fire on forever, of course, but practice rarely worked that way. The enemy were within the lethal range of laser fire, it was true, but only barely. Attenuation of a laser’s effectiveness happened according to many factors. Dust would occlude the beam, distance would cause the beam to slowly lose effectiveness, and of course warp fields would twist and corrupt the pure stability of a laser’s construct. At ten light-minutes, Priminae lasers were generally considered to be crossing below the “lethal” level against armored and warp-shielded targets.
They’d still give an unarmored target a toasty tan, of course, but warships could effectively ignore them somewhere around that point, albeit with wild variation depending on the context of local space. Any manner of debris, dust, gas, and even gravity warping or other detritus would negatively affect laser use.
Lethality at extreme distance was not normally much of a consideration, because hitting a target at that range was more an exercise in luck than skill unless you were a bit of a mind reader, of course.
This time, however, Eric expected quite a few hits no matter what the enemy did. There were so many targets that it would honestly be difficult to miss, unless the enemy decided to entirely alter their course or fragment their fleet. Neither option was one he had come to expect from the Imperials.
“All ships have opened fire,” Miram said from his right side. “Sir, should we begin maneuvering?”
“Not yet,” Eric ordered. “All ships are to hold position except for logistics vessels. I want them to withdraw out of the system opposite from us.”
“Aye sir,” Miram said, sending the orders. “Logistical ships have acknowledged. They’re withdrawing according to orders.”
Eric refocused on the approaching enemy forces that were still accelerating but apparently wary of going superluminal this close to a fight.
Good job, Jason and Aleska. You’ve made them paranoid.
Now he just needed them to get more paranoid.
“Continue firing, all ships,” he ordered. “Maintain continuous fire until I say otherwise, but do not move off station.”
Lord’s Own Dreadnought, Empress Liann
Jesan flinched as the first of the enemy lasers struck true, only mildly surprised that they had opened fire from that far out.
The damage was minimal, a couple Parasites lost and some minor damage to the forward cruisers. Nothing significant at this point, but it made the point that they were readying themselves for a real battle, desperate measures and all.
Maneuvering ships to effectively evade beams would have a higher risk of collisions between warp fields than being struck by enemy lasers if vessels remained on course. Expand
ing the formation would work, but considering the few enemy ships they were dealing with, that might not be a brilliant idea either.
So he clenched his teeth and absorbed the damage as the fleet continued to accelerate into battle, all the while scanning ahead for any signs of another of those damnable minefields.
Hopefully, if there were any, the Parasites would catch them before they reached any of the more valuable ships, but so far it seemed that the enemy hadn’t put any of them into space this time. Which to Jesan merely begged the question, What have they done instead?
“Still no sign of movement from the warships, My Lord,” his second said, sounding confused. “Their transports have begun to withdraw, but they have shown no motion at all. Should we open fire?”
That was the question.
Normally he wouldn’t waste the energy at this range. Any moderately incompetent enemy would easily evade, and a competent one could actually use the information you gave up by firing against you. However, if the enemy vessels weren’t going to move . . .
Why aren’t they moving?
No matter how fast they were, the closer they let his fleet get before they lit off their drives, the narrower they made any avenue of escape. They had to know that there was no chance of them standing up against the sector fleet in a straightforward fight. So why would they dance around the event horizon the way they seemed intent to do now?
“Lead ships may engage,” he ordered. “Cautiously, Commander.”
“Of course, My Lord.” His second bowed slightly before turning to issue the order.
Perhaps I should just open the formation so that every ship may open fire at once, Jesan thought.
It would be incredibly wasteful, but they might be able to bracket the enemy entirely with such a maneuver, assuming the enemy was stupid enough to remain in place and let it happen.
What are they waiting for?
AEV Odysseus
Eric winced as a laser bloom scorched one of the Odysseus’ forward sensor nodes, killing some of the screens before they flicked to a backup.
