New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  The Darshik used the superheated gas in a much different way. Apparently they could use a type of electromagnetic focusing apparatus, not dissimilar to what their own main engine nozzles used to direct plasma, and channel the burst down a “tunnel” so that it was focused when it struck the target. Commander Graham showed him the readings they’d taken that proved the existence of the focusing fields and it explained the “energy lance” others had reported seeing when in close combat with Darshik ships.

  Graham couldn’t hazard a guess as to the maximum effective range of such a weapon, but he said it would likely be just over what the cruiser was sitting at when they struck. Barrett tended to agree with the chief engineer. They’d have wanted to be within the performance envelope of the weapon, but just enough to give them a safety margin. Too close and they would risk detection by the passive sensor array. The fact they were able to sneak up so close was alarming in and of itself.

  “Punched right through her like a knife through butter.” Barrett whistled as he ran a gloved hand over the exposed edge of one of the hull breaches.

  “And that’s just where indirect streams broke loose from containment upon impacting the RDS pod,” Graham said over the radio. The pair were in soft maintenance EVA suits since the compartments that had been breached hadn’t been repaired yet and were still exposed to vacuum. “It’s a weapon that is easily defeated with distance, but if it hits us directly—” The engineer trailed off, not needing to further explain the danger. If the Icarus was hit again at close range with the plasma lance she couldn’t survive.

  “Thank you for taking the time to show me yourself, Commander,” Barrett said. “I’ll need to get back to the bridge and give the captain my report. Your people did a hell of a job.”

  “Thanks, XO.” Graham waved him back towards the temporary airlock his crews had welded into the hatchway. “Let’s hope that’s the only close run-in we have with their cruisers.”

  Chapter 18

  “First wave impacting the Darshik lines,” Adler reported. The bridge was tensely silent as they waited for the results of the first volley.

  “OPS, take over monitoring the incoming Shrikes,” Celesta ordered. “Tactical, concentrate on our immediate area.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  “Two of our drones were taken out by Shrikes,” Accari reported. “The others are tracking to the enemy formation. Initial returns from the other drones indicate we’re destroying a lot of ships, ma’am. Still no response from the Darshik formations.”

  “So we used two very expensive Shrikes to take out two horrifically expensive Jacobsons. Fantastic,” Barrett quipped. “This is a strange way to fight a battle.”

  “This was always how our fleet was designed to fight,” Celesta said with a humorless smile. “The missile cruisers would array themselves out of range from the defending force and lob in missiles, trying to break down the defenses before moving the carriers and destroyers in to subdue the planet. The defenders would then use missiles to try and hit our missiles. It was a doctrine that lasted hundreds of years. Since we never had a war, we never had to adapt.”

  “Until the Phage,” Barrett nodded.

  “Until the Phage,” Celesta agreed.

  “The kill ratio is off the charts, Captain.” Accari shook his head in disbelief. “Even counting the two Jacobsons as friendly fire, our first volley had an effective kill rate of ninety-three percent. Forty-six enemy ships destroyed or disabled.”

  “And they’re not even moving to fill in the gaps from the lost ships?” Barrett asked.

  “No, sir,” Accari and Adler said in unison. The Icarus was sitting at relatively close range and the data coming over the Link from their scattered drone network had very little lag, so Celesta was able to see that the Darshik were just taking hits and not bothering to respond in any way … not even to try to get out of the way of the next fifty Shrikes that were coming in, and the fifty behind that. Something felt very, very wrong about this.

  “Ma’am, personal message from the New York coming in for you,” Lieutenant Ellison said. “It’s from Admiral Wilton.”

  “What classification?”

  “No classification and it came over the general Fleet channel,” Ellison said.

  “Send it here.” Celesta moved her terminal over and adjusted the speaker volume so that only she and her executive officer could hear it.

  “Captain Wright, all of our Shrikes have been launched and I’m ordering the heavy missile cruisers back out of the system. They’re currently accelerating to hit the Juwel jump point,” Admiral Wilton said, his visage as stern and humorless as she remembered. “We’ve reviewed the logs of the attack on Ninth Squadron; you did well in turning what could have been a loss of three ships into a sound victory. I was also impressed with your sensor network you’ve deployed via the Jacobson drones. All things we’ll discuss in debrief.

  “We’re currently covering the missile cruisers’ withdrawal, but we’ll soon be coming down to mop up whatever the Shrikes leave behind. It will be the New York and five Fourth Fleet destroyers, all Intrepid-class ships. Wilton out.”

  “Eight destroyers and one boomer against whatever is left,” Barrett said. “He seems pretty confident that the Shrikes will make this a quick fight.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with him based on what we know,” Celesta said. “The first part of this operation was supposed to be the hardest, and so far it’s been shooting fish in a barrel.”

  The second and third waves of Shrikes hit as she’d expected and there were only six Darshik ships left flying once the drones rescanned the entire area. Celesta had a hard lump in her stomach. This was all wrong and her crew could sense it too. Faces looked worried and apprehensive as they went about their tasks.

  “Coms, have Flight OPS send three of our drones to survey the surface of the Ushin world,” Celesta said. “OPS, make sure to send the New York our final target assessment just to back up what they’re seeing through the Link.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Accari said, unusually subdued.

  Celesta made no move to take the Icarus down into orbit over the contested planet before seeing exactly what was going on down there. With the bizarre way the Darshik ships had just suicided, she believed they may have been more of a decoy and that the real nasty surprise was some sort of planetary weapon. If they had weapon installations on the surface that were similar to their shipboard plasma lances, with nearly unlimited power feeding them, she was certain they’d be able to swat ships out of the sky. With the Icarus now running on her MPD main engines there would be no way to avoid it.

  It was another four and half hours before the first scans from the Jacobson drones came in from the planet. Flight OPS had smartly put them on an intercept trajectory at maximum burn, having them fly by for an initial scan and then enter into a high elliptical orbit and begin decelerating so they could come back around and slide into a low geosynchronous for a more thorough look.

  “Ma’am, there’s nothing there,” Accari said, clearly confused. “No power sources, no heat sources, very few artificial constructs. The atmosphere isn’t even the right composition for what we understand about Ushin-compatible worlds.”

  “Coms! Sound an emergency withdrawal on the Fleetwide channel!” Celesta was on her feet. “OPS, recall our drones. If they can get here, capture them; if not, blow them. Nav, get us a direct course to the Juwel jump point. Helm, all ahead flank when you get it.”

  “Captain?” Barrett asked.

  “This is a trap,” Celesta said with certainty.

  “I don’t understand how the Ushin would want to—”

  “The Hyperion just dropped off the Link,” Accari said.

  “Incoming transmission, not on any of the taskforce channels,” Ellison said.

  “Play it,” Celesta ordered.

  “Please surrender your ships and yourselves,” an artificial, emotionless voice came over the speakers. “This is what must happen. Further fighting only
prolongs the suffering of all.”

  “That’s it, ma’am,” Ellison said. “It just repeats over and over.”

  “Who the hell was that?” Barrett asked.

  “The Ushin,” Celesta spat. “They set us up. Tactical, keep up full-power scans of the system. They know we’re here already so there’s no point in hiding.” The deck shook as the helmsman pushed the throttles all the way up and the Icarus came onto her new course at maximum thrust.

  “Ma’am?” Barrett asked.

  “Think about it,” Celesta said bitterly. “The Ushin had to be in on this. They get us to swarm into this system and take on their decoys in a glorious battle and then, when all of our munitions are depleted and we’re all congratulating ourselves on such a rout, the Darshik show up and hammer us.

  “The Terran Starfleet is now virtually eliminated and the Darshik didn’t have to fly system to system within our territory picking us off. They didn’t count on our antiquated tactics, however, and most of the fleet is already heading home and everybody left is fully loaded and ready.”

  “We bit on it hard,” Barrett nodded. “They seemed to know just the right strings to pull to get humans moving in the right direction. Shit … we thought we were flying out here to be liberators.”

  “Incoming message from the New York, ma’am.” Ellison saved Celesta from having to answer. “They’re confirming four Ushin ships at the edge of the system, almost two-point-five billion kilometers from the Juwel jump point.”

  “That’s something, at least,” Celesta mused. “If they aren’t guarding the jump point they may not have too much knowledge of our territory past the DeLonges System. Coms, has the rest of the taskforce confirmed our withdrawal?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Accari answered for Ellison. “They’ve confirmed through the Link status and the Hyperion has just reappeared on the net. They’re saying they had technical trouble due to the battle damage they took from the Darshik cruiser.”

  “Mr. Ellison, send a message to the Atlas and ask them how they’re faring on one engine trying to get out of the system,” Celesta ordered before turning to Barrett. “Even with their head start I’m worried they won’t have enough time to get to the jump point before the Ushin spring the next surprise on us.”

  The bridge again fell into a tense silence as they all waited for the other shoe to drop, the deep rumble of the mains at full power drowning out half a dozen muted conversations. Celesta knew that their only move was to get to the jump point and get the hell back to Terran space. She’d been somewhat privy to the initial planning stages of the hastily thrown together operation and now she was beyond thankful that CENTCOM had scaled back their taskforce drastically. They’d moved into the system with twenty-four ships, confident that their opening salvoes would clear the way for the destroyers to get down into the trenches and finish the Darshik occupation fleet off.

  All of that was out the airlock now as it was obvious that the Ushin were working with the Darshik on some level, or vice versa. She didn’t know if one was coercing the other or if they’d always been working in concert, and she honestly didn’t care. If she could get the Ninth Squadron back to Terran space safely then she would consider herself lucky. There had been at least three cruisers in the system that had positioned themselves to take out the Terran destroyers at some opportune time, and she guessed that it was when the broadcast message had reached them.

  “The Fourth Fleet destroyers are almost to the jump point, ma’am,” Accari said. “They’d not been accelerating long before you called for a general withdrawal. Projected data says that they’ll transition out in six hours; we’ll know another four and half hours after that with the com lag.”

  “Understood,” Celesta said. “Have Engineering begin prepping the warp drive, but leave the emitters stowed for now.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  “Incoming message from Admiral Wilton again, ma’am,” Ellison said. “This one is classified for your eyes only.”

  “I’ll be in my office.” Celesta stood. “XO has the bridge.”

  “I have the bridge, aye,” Barrett said.

  Ellison had the message waiting in her buffer by the time she’d sat at her desk and logged into the terminal. She was perched on the edge of her seat, completely uncomfortable with being off the bridge while there was so much happening that was unknown.

  “Captain Wright … it looks like we’ve been screwed by our new allies,” Admiral Wilton began bluntly. “We came about as soon as we got your withdrawal order; apparently my own intel analysts aboard the New York weren’t as quick to realize what such an easy victory meant.

  “There are some things you need to know in case we don’t make it out of this system. I have no doubt the Ushin and the Darshik see where we’re heading and have some other nasty surprise waiting for us. This was passed on to me by Admiral Marcum himself, and if the New York doesn’t make it I have to be sure someone is able to know the real reason we’re out here … and it sure as hell isn’t some damn noble pursuit like throwing off the shackles of the oppressors. I have faith that out of any of us you’ll be the one to get your ship safely home.”

  Over the next half an hour the admiral plainly laid out the deal the Federation had made with the Ushin. When he’d finished, and she realized what it was they were fighting for, she went through a whole range of emotions. At first she was indifferent; militaries had always been the muscle that backed up political decisions, and fighting to free someone while being guaranteed something in return wasn’t exactly the worst thing a government had ever done.

  But as she reflected further and realized how quickly they’d mobilized and how little they’d understood of their allies or enemies, the anger began to blossom deep in her chest. It was no new phenomena to be used by her superiors as a pawn in the games they played, hell, it was just such an occurrence that put her on the bridge of Captain Wolfe’s destroyer. A bigoted fleet admiral wanted him gone simply because he was from Earth and she thought the young and upcoming Commander Wright of First Fleet would be just the person. The admiral had put her on the bridge of the Blue Jacket with the express intent of having her replace Wolfe in as humiliating a way as she could manage.

  But this wasn’t then. Back then humanity had enjoyed centuries without armed conflict, and Starfleet did little but move cargo and posture a bit when the enclaves became fussy. The Phage War changed all that and now that they knew there were real threats out there, threats that could wipe the human race from existence, she was no longer able to accept that this was just how things were done. Somewhere in the halls of power of the brand-stinking-new United Terran Federation someone had decided that it was okay to send ships and spacers into harm’s way for a handful of planets and the promise of new tech from allies they could barely communicate with.

  She reflected back on her time aboard the Blue Jacket and for the first time she understood, really understood what it was that Captain Wolfe had gone through. He’d fought an uphill battle against not only an enemy nobody understood or even believed existed while simultaneously fighting his own chain of command. The symmetry of it all wasn’t lost on her as she was now the one in the big chair with a whole crew of men and women looking to her to do the right thing.

  “Captain Wright to the bridge immediately,” the computer intoned over the intercom.

  Her chair hadn’t even fully rolled back against the bulkhead before she was already through the hatchway and racing back to the bridge.

  “Captain, we’ve lost contact with the Atlas, and the New York has dropped off the Link,” Barrett said as soon as she emerged on the bridge. “Fourth Fleet destroyers are still steaming to the jump point and the Hyperion is accelerating to transition velocity. We’re the furthest down the well right now.”

  “How long until we hit the jump point?” Celesta asked.

  “Just over fifteen hours,” Accari said. “We’re nearing Delta-V roll off now.” He was referring to the slim area at the top of a ship’
s performance band right before its maximum subluminal speed in which increased engine output had a negligible effect on acceleration.

  “Go ahead and—”

  “Contact! Multiple targets appearing further out in the system,” Adler called. “Populating the threat board.”

  Celesta watched as the tactical computer extrapolated all the sources of data being fed into it and put up where it thought the enemy ships were located as well as their own forces. Even with the display being an artifact, or best guess by the computer, the enemy strategy was clear. They’d appeared just past the orbit of the fifth planet and were going to deny them the use of the jump point. The Fourth Fleet ships were already well past, but she could see the Hyperion and her own ship were charging right into a dragnet. She also could see that the projected positions of the New York and Atlas intersected with the new enemy formations. This time she held out little hope that Captain Caruso would pop back up on the Link again. A Starwolf-class destroyer with battle damage and a single engine was little match for what looked like at least a dozen Darshik warships.

  “Coms! Tell the Hyperion to initiate a short jump out of the system,” Celesta ordered. “They’re going to have to risk it. They won’t make it through that spread of enemy ships. Nav, plot me a course that brings us around to hit jump point Epsilon without losing velocity. Helm, keep the hammer down.”

  “We’re pushing deeper into Darshik territory?” Barrett asked as Celesta ordered them to come about and head for the second jump point the taskforce had intended to utilize to get to the second Ushin system that was supposedly occupied.

  “They’ll think we are, Commander,” Celesta said sharply, not appreciating the challenging tone her XO had used. “We need to pull them back away from those Intrepid-class ships. If we can force them to chase us with their intrasystem jumps, we’ll clear the way and then we’ll extend and escape the same as we did in Xi’an. Look alive, people! This is what we’re paid for.”