by M. D. Cooper
Stars…stop looking at me like that, woman!
Juasa faded away, but instead of relief, Katrina felt the hole inside of her open wider, threatening to swallow her up.
Stop it, Katrina, she admonished herself. You made this mess—well, fucking greedy Bollers made this mess—but you need to fix it. Put Humpty Dumpty back together again…somehow.
Katrina flipped the visual on the main display to a rear view from the Castigation. The ships in her flight had clustered together, in a far closer formation than would normally be safe. She could make out the docking bay doors on the Verisimilitude at the back of the formation—something she’d never seen unless docking at a station.
A countdown on the side of the screen noted that they were fifteen seconds from being within firing range of the BWSF cruisers.
“C’mon, Troy,” Katrina whispered as the feeling of tension rose on the bridge. She was tempted to reach out to the Voyager, but she knew Troy had the same information they did.
Then a bright light appeared above the ‘Tude, and scan tagged it as the Voyager. The engine flare grew brighter then cut out, and the ship rotated, turning to face the same direction as the rest of the formation before settling down into the middle of the group.
Katrina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. A few members of the bridge crew appeared to be doing the same thing, glancing at one another.
They were down to the final seconds, and the AIs didn’t wait for a reply, the ships of Cavalry One extended their shields outward, layering the umbrellas over one another seconds before the enemy beams lanced out across the void.
“Shitting star balls,” Jordan muttered as the shield bubble shed the enemy beams with ease. She sagged against the side of a nearby console, grinning at Katrina. “We didn’t die! Stars, I’ve never been…I have no idea what even makes sense.”
The bridge crew appeared as stunned as Jordan, and then the woman on helm let out a cry of joy that the rest of the crew took up.
Katrina found herself smiling as she looked at the shield status, seeing that they reported barely a flicker in power draw as the enemy ships continued to fire on the Midditerran formation.
“So what now?” Jordan asked as Cavalry One continued on its approach to Nesella, now only six light seconds distant.
A laugh escaped Katrina’s lips. “Stars, I have no idea. I wasn’t thinking past this point. We can’t do much to the BWSF ships—not enough firepower—but I wonder if we can find their flagship.”
“Put him on the tank,” Katrina replied, and smiled at Odis’s dour face as he appeared.
“Shit, Lady Katrina, that’s some maneuver you just pulled off.” He sounded impressed.
Katrina laughed and nodded, the high of pure relief still flooding through her. “You have no idea, Odis. We’re all pretty happy it worked.”
She sent the reply and waited the ten seconds for his response.
When it came, Katrina saw him give a small smile along with a curt nod. “Well, since the alternative is that you’d be pretty much nothing, yeah, I can imagine.”
Katrina shook her head, unable to help but grin back at Odis. Even though things were dire—with an extra helping of dire on the side—with Troy present, she believed they had a real chance.
“What’s the situation, Odis? What’s admiral Leena’s ETA?”
“I’ve pulled in patrols, and we have a thousand ships in high orbits around Regula. We have flanking patrols ready to harry them once they engage. They’re coming in fast—as are you—so we’ll have a reprieve after they make their first pass. Leena has eight hundred ships incoming, but we’re still outnumbered over two to one.”
Katrina could see that all too well. The leading edge of the Boller fleet was moving into weapons range, and ships on both sides were trading shots at hundred thousand kilometer distances. In a few minutes, they’d be fully engaged.
“And the cantons?” Katrina asked, knowing not to hope for too much.
“There were five hundred and forty-three canton ships on Nesella that are worth the deuterium it takes to power their reactors. We have them taking up polar orbits so they have clear firing lanes that won’t hit MDF ships. Kruger has also deployed his rail platforms. He had an extra twenty tucked away inside the station—the bastard.”
“So he’s up and about again?” Katrina asked. “I was worried about his recovery.”
“Yeah, he’s grumpier than before, but not that bad, I guess. I’d be pretty pissed, too, if I’d spent the last decade with an AI in my head, controlling me.”
Katrina put all of the data Odis passed to her on the Castigation’s secondary holotank, her joy slowly fading away.
“I don’t see how we can save Nesella…”
“We just saw how you saved Teegarten,” Odis replied. “Given the light-lag between here and there, you must have jumped to make it this fast. Got any more tricks like that under your belt?”
Katrina wondered why Odis said ‘belt’, then realized it was the only actual article of clothing she was wearing other than her armor-skin.
“Funny, Odis. What about those canton ships I see coming from Persia? We don’t have good scan resolution on them, but it looks like over a thousand vessels.”
“Yeah, they set off before this all went down. Not sure what that’s about. From a broadcast Lady Armis made, their initial goal was to ‘evaluate council matters on Nesella’. They’ll have fun with that, since there may not be a Nesella to evaluate when they get here.”
Armis. Well, I suppose I know what’s coming, if we survive this.
Katrina pushed that worry from her mind and nodded, considering the positions of the other two major MDF fleets in the system. Both were on the far side of the star, easily five days away even if they burned through all their fuel to get to the battlespace—which would then make them useless.
“But if those canton ships could make it here before the Bollers circle around for a second pass…” Katrina mused. “Then things would be different.”
“Sure, yeah,” Odis snorted. “And why not summon all the other fleets in the galaxy, while we’re at it.”
Katrina clenched her teeth. If she didn’t need Odis so much, she’d replace him in a heartbeat. Granted, his attitude was better than Myla’s; at least he wouldn’t do anything rash and stupid.
He probably won’t do anything heroic, either.
Katrina pursed her lips. A victory where Armis was the hero would play well for the woman—and badly for Katrina.
She had half a mind to take her little group of ships and leave the system, though she’d just bring this trouble down on any system she fled to. Especially with five thousand BWSF ships on her tail.
“There’s a route that would get them here…” Katrina said as she looked over the information she had lifted from Jace and Lara’s minds. “Looks like…in about two hours.”
“Two…” Odis stroked his chin. “That would be right as the Bollers make their second run.”
Katrina didn’t wait for Odis’s approval. “Sam, send them the data. Tell Armis that if she gives a shit about this system, she’ll take the route and save the people’s asses.”
“What if she thinks you’re trying to do away with her?” Odis asked, clearly aware of the real purpose of Armis’s fleet.
“Then we’re screwed,” Katrina replied. “You ready to go down fighting, Odis?”
Odis drew himself up and gave Katrina a cold look. “Do not doubt my resolve, Lady Katrina. I’m ready to give everything I have. People may call the inhabitants of Midditerra pirates, but we’re not.”
“Not to mention that the Bollers really aren’t much better,” Jordan added. �
��Plus, I think I resent that a bit.”
Odis gave Jordan a wide grin. “Maybe we’ll hash that out later.”
“Maybe we will,” Jordan replied.
“Or she’ll just think we faked it,” Katrina said. “Either way, we have work to do. Odis, you have your end well in hand. What I want to know is whether or not you’ve identified their flagship. Is it one of those two-kilometer dreadnoughts?”
“Maybe,” Odis said. “But all four of those are moving into the van. What I’ve noticed is that there’s a group of cruisers hanging back. Not all the way in the rear guard, but close.”
He sent the coordinates, and Katrina pulled the location up. It was a group of seven cruisers and a dozen destroyers. They were all clearly arrayed in a formation to protect one cruiser in the center.
“Whatever it is, it’s important,” Katrina replied.
“Agreed.”
“Sam? Set a course for that ship.”
“I’ll leave you to that,” Odis said. “I’ve got my hands full, trying to corral these canton ships and keep them out of the firing lanes for Kruger’s platforms.”
“Understood,” Katrina replied, and Odis disappeared.
“Leading edges are now fully engaged,” Jordan said as a battlespace overview filled the main tank. “Those fuckin’ Bollers are trying to hit Nesella from five sides.”
“Well, let’s mess them up as much as we can,” Katrina said. “Maximum burn.”
The ships changed vector, slowing and moving toward the center-rear of the BWSF fleet. The group of cruisers that had engaged them continued to harass Cavalry One, but few other ships did, preparing as they were to engage with the bulk of the MDF fleet and the station’s defenses.
Troy asked.
“Fire away,” Katrina replied.
“That’s right,” Jordan replied. “When we get the chance, we drop plasma through shield holes, but it’s a big risk in battle, because the enemy can see us prepping to do that. With this many ships, they’d shoot through the opening and blow us apart.”
“That could work,” Jordan mused. “We should have Demy in on it.”
“I must be missing something,” Katrina said, shaking her head as she turned the idea over in her mind. “We’d propel the plasma with a-grav? That would move it too slowly. How are we going to weaponize that?”
A RISK WORTH TAKING
STELLAR DATE: 02.07.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Castigation
REGION: Regula, Midditerra System
Katrina’s fleet formation had ceased acceleration and was drifting amongst the enemy. Each of her ships were venting plasma, which Troy was forming into a single ball on the port side of the group.
The BWSF cruisers pursuing them had closed as the Midditerrans slowed, their closest ships now within five thousand kilometers.
So far, the enemy had made no communication attempts, but Katrina knew they must be wondering if their quarry contained the prize: Katrina herself.
The enemy had ceased heavy weapons fire, but they were still tagging the shield bubble every few seconds, probing for weaknesses.
“Think they’ll send assault craft?” Jordan asked.
“Stars,” Katrina shook her head. “I sure hope not—for those poor bastards’ sakes. We’d shoot them down in a heartbeat.”
“Well, they think we’re almost overheated in here—which isn’t that far from the truth.”
Katrina wiped her brow, momentarily forgetting that she no longer sweated—something she sorely wished was possible right now, as her body temperature continued to rise.
“Yeah, but we’d still be able to take out the first few ships.”
“We need to jink and hit that closest cruiser first,” Katrina replied. “Do you have all the burns calculated?”
Katrina glanced at Jordan, the two women sharing a worried look.
“Do it,” Katrina ordered.
The ships in Cavalry One surged starboard, closing the gap with the closest BWSF cruiser to just over ten kilometers.
Before the enemy ship could react, Troy altered the shield bubble to stretch out and touch the enemy ship’s shields, nullifying both fields where they made contact.
A second later, the ball of plasma that had been floating along with the ships broke into a thousand pieces, each flying across the ten-kilometer gap, striking the enemy ship. A thousand holes were burned into the BWSF cruiser’s hull, venting atmosphere. Before the enemy ship could return fire, Troy pulled the shield bubble back, its protection snapping back into place.
“All ships fire!” Katrina ordered.
Every vessel in the formation fired beams at the BWSF cruiser—which had not recovered its shields—burning away hull plating and melting through dozens of decks.
A moment later, it was done. The enemy cruiser was a drifting hulk, its life support and fuel bleeding out into the void.
“Shit,” Jordan whispered. “That was awesome.”
It took less than ten seconds for the other BWSF cruisers to move away from the Midditerrans, none wanting the same treatment. Another glowing ball of plasma began to form within the shield bubble, waiting for another target to venture close enough.
“Resume course for that flagship,” Katrina ordered. “Let’s see what they do with us coming for them.”
She wished she could avoid watching the main engagement around Nesella, but she knew it was her duty to at least observe. The light lag between her and the bulk of her fleet would make any directives useless by the time they arrived. She had to trust that the MDF knew what they were doing, and were prepared to put their lives on the line to protect their system.
So far, they appeared to be doing just that. Odis and the MDF had mounted a valiant defense, and the leading edge of Leena’s fleet was in range, harrying the enemy as they closed with Regula.
It was a strange battle, with the fleets so spread out. Parts of the first engagement were already over, ships swept past one another, now on long braking burns as they arced around the edges of the battlespace to come back for another pass.
Dozens more ships from both sides drifted in the dark: some dead and lifeless, others burning, still more venting atmosphere, spinning on their way to oblivion.
A few ships detonated when they took too much damage, and one ship lost bottle containment, an antimatter explosion flaring out amidst the chaos.
The exploding ship was a Blackadder destroyer in close defense of Nesella. The blast hadn’t damaged the station, but it had destroyed another Adder ship, along with four of the enemy.
Katrina knew that antimatter bottles were notoriously hard to brea
ch, and suspected it was intentional. She wasn’t pleased to see antimatter in use like that, but she couldn’t help but approve of how the desperate defense caused the Boller ships to give Nesella a wider berth.
Even so, the station was not coming through unscathed. It was too large to shield perfectly, and BWSF beams and kinetics were breaching shields and impacting the station itself far more than Katrina had expected.
Suddenly, a notion occurred to Katrina. The beginnings of an idea that could end this entire fight before it escalated further.
“Jordan! Get an assault team to meet me in the shuttle bay. We’re going to pay the Bollers a visit.”
“What!?” Jordan’s mouth hung slack. “What are you—”
“I’m going to end this,” Katrina replied as she rushed off the bridge.
THE ADMIRAL
STELLAR DATE: 02.07.8512 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: BWSS Nova Star
REGION: Kora, Midditerra System
Admiral Pierson let out a low whistle as he watched the group of Midditerran ships in the interlocked shield bubble destroy a cruiser.
“That’s either the smartest—or the craziest—maneuver I’ve ever seen,” he said while shaking his head.
“Not that effective, though, sir,” Major Doma replied from the other side of the holotable. “At that rate, they can destroy all of our ships in…oh, about a year.”
Pierson gave a soft laugh. “I did give ‘crazy’ as an option. Tell FG Seventy-Two to cease pursuing that enemy formation. Let them flit about, boiling the hulls off their ships. When this is done, we’ll take care of them.”
Major Doma nodded and passed the order, while Pierson surveyed the rest of the battlespace. His ships were taking a pounding—the MDF and their pirate comrades were putting up a good fight. He’d feared they’d defend their system zealously, and that fear was proving true.
Many of the BWSF strategists had been convinced that the Midditerrans would flee in the face of a force the size of Pierson’s, but he had disagreed.
