Forge of War (Jack of Harts)

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Forge of War (Jack of Harts) Page 8

by Pryde, Medron


  He shifted his gaze to where Hal leaned against a pure white bulkhead, looking with complete and utter ease over the people in the battleship he controlled. The cyber watched the men and women who lived on his ship celebrating the fact that they still lived. A smile came over his face and the cyber glanced over to Jack for a moment before turning back to the other pilots.

  “They really are amazing, aren’t they?” Aneerin asked and Jack turned to give the much older Peloran a questioning eyebrow. “Our preconceptions, I mean. So much of what we see depends on them, doesn’t it?” Aneerin smiled again. “What do we do when they collide with reality?”

  Jack frowned and studied the shouting and laughing Peloran pilots, partying in victory along with the handful of other American pilots. He’d never seen a Peloran party, never realized that the quiet and calm tree hugging Peloran he’d seen on the news and in the movies all his life would party in any way that he would consider a party at all. Jack took another bite of the bread and considered as he chewed on it. He glanced over to where Charles stood on the other side of Aneerin, the heir of a vast family fortune who had been to thousands of parties with tens of thousands of people, and caught the other pilot’s thoughtful gaze. Charles nodded and Jack had the feeling he’d come to the same conclusion. He was a real smart cookie.

  “Well,” Jack finally said with a shrug. “I suppose I reassess.” Aneerin’s smile broadened. Jack shook his head and met the older man’s gaze. “Though I wonder why you show us this. You brought us here on purpose; you showed us this on purpose. You want us to believe that your people are different than what we have been led to believe. Either you are, or you are playing like you are.”

  “You know we can’t lie, Jack,” Aneerin said, spreading his hands out wide.

  “But you said it yourself, you are only half Peloran,” Jack answered with a pointed smile.

  “Touché.” Aneerin smiled at Jack and waved an arm towards the party. “So what do you think? Am I lying with this display or not?”

  Jack glanced at Charles again, measuring where the man stood. A shadow of a smile cracked his face, telling Jack the man stood with him. “I think you have a vested interest in making us see your people as something other than the calm and cultured aliens from the great beyond who brought miracle medicines and advanced technologies,” Jack said, cocking his head to spear Aneerin with his gaze. “And I think we need to find out what that vested interest is.”

  Aneerin’s smile erupted into laughter that mixed into the celebration in the room perfectly. “Ah, Jack,” he said after composing himself. “I like you. Never stop asking why people want you to believe anything. Sometimes it is for your benefit, sometimes for their benefit, and very rarely it can be for both.” Aneerin aimed a pointed look at Jack before turning back to the party. “Understand the reason and you understand the truth.”

  Alarms rang out and words in Peloran began to transmit over the speakers.

  “Ah. It appears our conversation is at an end,” Aneerin said with a frown and Hal’s avatar turned to walk towards them.

  Betty’s hand appeared on Jack’s shoulder and she leaned in close to his ear. “They’re calling us to battle stations,” she whispered as the Peloran pilots dropped their food and drink and ran for the hatch.

  A hologram of Hal flickered into existence before them. “The Shang are attacking Fort London. The British are trying to hold but they are having issues.”

  “These Terran defense squadrons are too small. It was a mistake for you to rely on the Lunar Treaty,” Aneerin said with an unhappy frown.

  “The Chinese and Russians have held to it,” Charles said, disagreeing with Aneerin’s statement.

  Aneerin pursed his lips. “And that’s done you so much good.”

  “Actually, it has,” Charles countered. “They could have finished us by breaking it. They haven’t.”

  Aneerin studied him for several seconds before nodding. “True. But if you had more forces at Terra, you could better handle these Shang strikes.”

  Charles gave him a smile and a raised finger. “Turn around, Reverend, because you’re preaching to the choir on that point.”

  Aneerin chuckled and turned as ordered to Hal’s hologram. “Can we fight a sustained battle with them?”

  “No,” Hal answered with a definitive shake of his head.

  Aneerin turned back to Charles, all calm business. “Will you fly with us?”

  “Of course,” Charles said without hesitation, before aiming a sly smile at Aneerin. “I have been to many parties on the Isle of Man and would like to do so again.”

  Aneerin’s eyebrows rose at the admission. “Yes. I have been there myself.” He paused for a second, his eyes glossed over as he remembered. He shook his head and returned to the present with a swallow. “That was some time ago though. Walk with me please,” Aneerin said and began to follow his men towards the hatch.

  Charles waved the other Cowboys over and followed Aneerin towards the hatch. Jack shadowed Charles and Aneerin.

  “How long does it take your fighters to recharge after a hyper transit?” Aneerin asked.

  “Four minutes.” Aneerin gave him a disbelieving gaze. “But we have capacitors that hold up to four charges,” Charles added.

  Aneerin let out a breath as he considered the information and followed his pilots out of the hatch. “It’s a hack,” Aneerin said to Hal as he turned left to walk towards the hangar bay. Jack frowned as he noticed that the Peloran pilots had turned right, wondering where they were going. “They didn’t put in a generator powerful enough to transit, they filled them up with batteries with enough charge to do it. Now I understand how they managed it.” He turned back to Charles. “After a transit, how quickly can you transit again?”

  Charles grimaced. “Thirty seconds.”

  Aneerin winced at the answer and looked up as Hal’s body walked into his hologram. Jack’s practiced eyes noticed when the hologram faded away, leaving behind the real body as the cyber shook his head. “What is the absolute minimum?” Aneerin asked.

  Charles cocked his head towards Dorothy and she gave them all a tight smile. “Ten seconds,” Dorothy answered in a cultured voice that chief advisors to powerful and rich families had perfected over the millennia. “But that is with a ten percent failure rate due to overloading the capacitors during the energy transfer. We’d be losing a fighter on average with each dive if we did that.”

  “How about fifteen seconds?” Aneerin asked, pursing his lips in thought.

  “Failure rates go down to four percent.” Dorothy said and gave a slight shrug. “Probably survivable, if we take time for repairs between attacks.”

  Aneerin turned to Hal. “Can we do it?”

  “Fifteen seconds is a long time,” Hal said with a pessimistic shake of his head. “We will take heavy damage. Are you certain they are worth it?”

  Aneerin gave an unhappy sigh. “Ten heavy fighters, designed for anti-warship action. Considering our losses in that category, they are heavy reinforcements. They could guard one of your flanks.”

  “True,” Hal said with a frown. “We can make do. Perhaps we can even use it to our advantage. If we stay longer than usual, the Shang may believe we are there to stay and shift their battle line to face us.”

  “Indeed,” Aneerin returned with a nod and walked into the main hangar. “I will leave the particulars to you.”

  Jack followed him in and looked around. It was as large and imposing as before, the massive tree on one end and the flickering energy curtain looking out into a black sky filled with stars on the other. The great white bulkheads gleamed, and against one of them the Avengers sat, powering up again for battle. Jack frowned and looked around, realizing that none of the Peloran fighters were still here.

  Aneerin turned towards the American pilots as they filed into the hanger. “Gentleman. Ladies. I believe it is time to fight again.” As if on cue, the lights dimmed for a second and Jack swallowed as he looked out on the crazy quilt
of colors that made up hyperspace. “I’m afraid we have no launch bays that can accommodate your Avengers. I trust you are willing to launch from here?”

  Jack blinked in realization of where the Peloran pilots had gone.

  “Of course we are,” Charles answered without a pause and waved everybody to their fighters. He aimed a quick look at Jack, and Jack realized the man had caught that little tidbit as well. “Hula!” Charles said in a soft tone, stopping Drew and Jasmine in their tracks.

  “Yeah, Chief?” Drew asked, looking nervous.

  Charles glanced over at her damaged Avenger. Without the nose, she had no laser turret, but that wasn’t the worst of it. “You can not break the surface,” Charles said with a shake of his head. “You can not fight this one.”

  Drew bit her lip before nodding. “I’m sorry, Chief,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be,” Charles said with another shake. “There will be many Shang to kill in the future I think.”

  Drew gave him a sad smile.

  Jack felt the need to say something and smiled at her and Jasmine. “I’ll tag one for you.” He aimed a jaunty finger at them as he said it, and saw both of them fighting to keep from laughing at him. Their mood lightened, even if only a little, he turned and ran off towards his Avenger, Betty beside him. He frowned though as his mind returned to the Peloran and everything he’d learned today.

  “What’s on your mind?” Betty asked as they stopped at the foot of the fighter and the ladder extruded out of its skin for him.

  Jack looked between Aneerin and Hal as he pulled himself up the ladder. Something was odd but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “These people are strange. Deeply strange.”

  “True,” Betty answered with a smile. “Far more alien than you thought from their faces?”

  Jack blinked again and froze on the ladder for a moment. “Yeah. Alien. I think that covers it.” He aimed a long look at Aneerin and Hal, standing side by side like twins, watching the Americans board their fighters. “Have you noticed they talk very much alike?” he finally asked.

  “Well, they have been partners for over two thousand years,” Betty said with a smile and jumped up onto the console as she shrunk down to twenty centimeters in height. “If we last that long, people will be saying the same about us.”

  “God, I hope not,” Jack answered and dropped into his seat. He winked at her surprised expression and locked his restraints in. “I like my sexy baritone.”

  Betty laughed, a clear soprano sound that tinkled off the inside of the cockpit. Then she pursed her lips. “Well, I could change,” she said, her voice dropping down into the baritone range.

  Jack rubbed his chin and cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable with the discussion. “I think I’ll take yah the way your momma made yah,” he finally said.

  Her eyes opened wide, she slipped her hands behind her back, and gave him a pleased smile. “Nice,” she said in her normal voice. “Good save.” She cocked her head to the side. “And I am ready to fly…now. Are you?”

  A smile came to his face. “Always.” Jack leaned back in his seat, completely at ease again.

  “Good,” Betty said and they floated up off the deck.

  He looked out to see the other Cowboys lifting off as well, and a scan of the displays showed their information popping up, confirming their readiness to fight. All but Drew and Jasmine of course.

  “Cowboy Three to all Cowboys,” Charles broadcast. “Let’s launch. We’ll be holding the Guardian Light’s starboard flank against counter attack while assisting in offensive operations.” A beam of light appeared on the displays, showing their route out of the hangar and around his flank. “Follow my beam,” he ordered and accelerated out of the hangar.

  Jack interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles as they accelerated out with the rest of the Cowboys. The squadron turned hard towards the Guardian Light’s starboard side, pulling into position with a final burst of thruster fire. He looked around at the small formation of six warships, scanning for the heavy fighters screening their flanks. There weren’t very many of them.

  Hal appeared on the comm. panel. “We are approaching transit location.” Another screen came to life, showing him the battle. The British naval squadron and Fort London were surrounded, taking damage from all vectors, by nearly three times their number of Shang ships. Fort London seemed fully operational and its impressive point defense was the only thing keeping the squadron alive as far as he could see.

  “How long ago is this?” Jack asked, trying to get a feeling for how things might have changed since their last update.

  “This is a live signal,” Hal answered with a smile.

  Jack blinked. “What? How?” It was impossible to send a message between normal and hyperspace. They had to be physically transported by a ship or drone. There was no way to have a live signal.

  Hal shrugged. “It’s complicated.” He chuckled. “I’ll show you later if you wish, but for now you can rest assured that this is live. Now prepare to transit in three…two…one.”

  Jack closed his eyes against the flash, opened them and saw the battle laid out before him. Explosions wreathed Fort London and its mighty multi-layered deflection grid flickered in and out a section at a time. The destroyers and cruisers around it spewed weapons fire in all directions, supporting the main cannons on the fort.

  The Shang surrounded them, firing broadside after broadside of missiles and lasers towards the fort. British point defense networks shot the missiles down by the scores and the deflection grids twisted the lasers away while the fort’s gravitic cannons played across the Shang ships. Four British destroyers drifted away from the fight, lights flickering and massive wounds in their flanks. The fort had obviously not been able to stop all of the missiles.

  “Fire,” Hal ordered and a hundred gravitic cannons from the fighters escorting the capital ships opened up, twisting gravity between the two fleets. Across the Shang flank, deflection grids with most of their energy devoted to holding off the fort’s weapons crumpled when five or more beams focused on one target. They ripped armor and weapons alike into space, leaving deep scars in the Shang ships. It was the sixteen heavy cannons mounted outside the Peloran warships’ hulls that did most of the damage though, punching through every deflection grid they hit with thousands of gravities of gravitic sheer. Sixteen Shang ships belched atmosphere and debris and fell out of formation. No single ship exploded, but an entire flank of the Shang englobing force faltered. They shifted power to their deflection grids to protect their wounded flanks from the Peloran and most of the next salvo of grav beams twisted away, spraying in all directions until they faded away.

  Missiles and lasers exploded from the Shang ships, charging the Peloran Battle Squadron, and the point defense lasers reached out to shoot them down. Most of the lasers missed the wildly maneuvering warships and fighters, and the few that hit twisted off into space. Explosions from incoming missiles wreathed the Peloran squadron, each succeeding wave closer to the deflection grid until the rolling front of explosions filled Jack’s view.

  “Transit in three,” Hal transmitted. Jack saw the deflection grids of the squadron flickering under the assault.

  “Two.” Jack swallowed as their fighter’s grav cannons finished powering up for another shot.

  “One.”

  The cannons fired one more time as Jack closed his eyes and the world flashed around him. He opened his eyes to see hyperspace in all its colors around him again. He licked his lips and checked the sensors to make certain everybody made it. They had.

  “Congratulations,” Hal transmitted. “We have completed our first strike. To those who have never done it before, you have drawn first blood. May you bleed our enemies well in the future.” A beam appeared on the displays to another location and the squadron accelerated towards it. “The good news is that we have badly mauled them and received negligible damage in return. The bad news is that they know we are here now and they will be prepared for our nex
t assault. Be ready. The rest of the battle will not be so easy.”

  “Oh joy,” Jack muttered.

  Hal raised an eyebrow on the comm. panel but didn’t say anything.

  “How are we?” Jack asked, looking to Betty.

  She smiled back. “We’re good. No issues at all. I’m rerouting power for the next surfacing now.”

  “Good,” Jack said and flicked his eyes over to the sensor screen to see they were almost at the next location. He checked the panel showing the battle and noted that the Shang had modified their englobement pattern. The damaged ships were spreading out into the rest of the formation, while undamaged ships took over their area. All of the ships had spread their deflection grids out to all sides. They were still good enough to twist most attacks away, but he saw a grav beam from Fort London spear through one of them and the ship jerked, atmosphere and debris spewing from its flank.

  “Transit in three…two…one,” Hal transmitted as the Shang ship struggled to maintain its position in the formation. Jack closed his eyes, saw the flash of light exploded through his lids, and opened them to see the wounded ship in their sights.

  “Fire,” Hal ordered and once again the grav cannons of every fighter in the Peloran squadron came to life. This time only half of the beams hit their now-wildly maneuvering targets, and the vast majority of those twisted off into space, useless. Not even one of the Cowboys’ shots did more than twist away from the ready prey, but each gravitic beam the deflection grids were forced to turn away weakened the grids a little bit. A swarm of missiles enveloped the target area, most caught by point defense and their explosions rolled through space. A few found their range and exploded, causing deflection grids to further fluctuate.

  That was when the sixteen main Peloran grav cannons powered up to life and reached out to grab the Shang. Once again, only half managed a hit, but every single one that did hit smashed into an overtaxed deflection grid. The beams cut through and dug deep into their targets, ripping armor away from the hulls and sucking in atmosphere and pieces of ships. The beams rotated like drills, ripping and pulling on their targets, twisting back and forth and panning across the ships.

 

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