Supercarrier: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 1

by Scott Bartlett

  “Providing we manage to remain undetected until then, I’ll use the ship’s cold-gas thrusters to ensure a soft landing. Those have extremely low exhaust velocity, only seven hundred meters per second, which is why we can’t use them for the retro-burn.”

  “Wait. You just said providing we manage to stay undetected.”

  Blackwing clacked his beak again. “I told you, human. Stealth is a sliding scale. Our job is to avoid a soft detect, and definitely a hard detect. If I can manage to avoid both, I will.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “A soft detect will mean they’ll know we’re in the area, and troops will already be on high alert once we land on the platform. A hard detect means getting blown out of the sky before ever touching down.”

  Chapter 66

  Broadside

  “It’s impossible to verify,” his sensor operator said, “but the stealth ship should have just broken away on its trajectory to the other side of the planet, sir.”

  “Very good,” Keyes said, and he drew in a long breath before speaking again. “Let’s begin.”

  “Firing kinetic impactors,” Arsenyev said. “Six minutes to impact.”

  He nodded. “Ensign Werner, don’t bother with a visual of whatever damage we manage to do to the platform. Keep a tactical display on the main viewscreen for the duration of the engagement, unless I say otherwise. That said, I’ll want a report of the effect of our barrage the moment it’s registered by our sensors.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The rounds they’d fired at the orbital defense platform were intended to get the Wingers’ attention, but not to do significant structural damage. We’re playing a dangerous game. They needed to engage every nearby Winger ship, so that none were available for aerial strikes on Husher and his troops, or on the stealth ship itself.

  Threatening the nearest orbital platform offered the best way to do that. But such platforms posed a serious threat even to ships like the Providence, which had to devote a sizable percentage of its mass to propulsion.

  Orbital defense platforms, on the other hand, had nowhere to go. They enjoyed the advantage of using all of their incredible bulk for artillery.

  “Do you really think the Wingers will be willing to talk to us after this?” Laudano asked from where he sat nearby with a hand on his chin, gazing at the viewscreen.

  “I think we’re already committed to this line of action and so you can keep your skepticism to yourself.” His patience for the acting XO’s snideness wore thin. The day Arsenyev replaced him couldn’t arrive soon.

  Laudano removed his hand from his face and sat a little straighter. “Yes, sir.”

  Sitting in a chair that folded down from the bulkhead, Ek caught his eye, sitting perfectly still. It was odd to have her in the CIC, but he wanted her on hand, in case her exceptional ability to analyze motivations proved relevant to his strategy.

  “Impact,” Arsenyev said. “Ensign Werner should have the sensor data in just a—”

  “Got it,” the sensor operator said. “We took out a primary turret battery, near the platform’s central power core.”

  “That should do it,” Keyes said.

  “The platform already returned fire, sir. Eight missiles incoming.”

  He turned to his Tactical officer. “Use kinetic rounds to explode them before they hit us, but stand by to discharge our primary laser if necessary. We can’t afford to get hit with our main capacitor still charged.”

  “Aye, sir,” Arsenyev said.

  Keyes hoped to save the primary for one of the Roostships, but the immediate safety of his ship and crew came first. He refused to play dice with that. “Has the posture of the Winger fleet changed, Ensign Werner?”

  A nod from his sensor operator. “Yes, sir. All eight enemy Roostships have broken formation and begun their approach.”

  “Excellent. Helm, accelerate along our planned arc, using the moon for a gravity assist.” His plan for the engagement involved keeping the moon between the Providence and the nearby orbital platform. Without the platform bombarding them, they would stand a chance, however slim. But if they continued to offer it a firing solution, they’d soon taste defeat. “Werner, will the lead Roostship be in range of our starboard-side lasers as we swing around?”

  “Just let me…yes, sir. It will. Two of them will, in fact, and they’re fairly close together.”

  “Amazing. And how are we doing with those incoming missiles, Tactical?”

  “Five down, sir. We should be able to take down the remaining three with another salvo.”

  “Then let’s prepare to hit those Roostships with a broadside they’ll not soon forget.” He gave a silent prayer of thanks that Teth had damaged the port-side capacitors and not the starboard ones.

  A tense few minutes passed as no one in the CIC spoke, except for Werner, to tell them that the orbital platform had launched another salvo consisting of eleven missiles. Keyes decided to ignore them, for now. They wouldn’t hit the ship before she fired her lasers, and soon she’d be accelerating away from them, using the moon’s gravity to build additional speed. At that point, they’d be able to pick off the pursuing missiles at their leisure.

  “Thirty seconds till our broadside, Captain,” Arsenyev said. “Our firing solution still looks good to hit both lead enemy ships. They haven’t separated.”

  A lesson they’ll learn too late, with any luck. “Ensign Werner, throughout the engagement I want you running continuous scans of the entire system, starting now. I don’t want any surprise visitors flanking us because we weren’t paying attention.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ten seconds till we fire lasers,” Arsenyev said.

  “Ensign Werner, give me a splitscreen visual of our targets. We’ll switch back to the tactical display immediately after we see what effect we’ve had.”

  “Yes, sir.” The main viewscreen switched to a view of the Roostships speeding toward them.

  “Firing lasers,” Arsenyev said.

  A thrill of excitement shot through him as Keyes watched the twin bows of the enemy ships warp and melt under the extreme heat of the Providence’s laser. After a few seconds, the Roostship on the left, which had taken the brunt of the attack, exploded. Only then did its companion peel away to avoid any shrapnel that might chance to hit it.

  Cheers erupted throughout the CIC, and Keyes allowed it. He needed morale as high as possible.

  “It looks like we took out the surviving Roostship’s retro-thrusters, sir,” Ensign Werner said, smiling down at his console. “I doubt it’ll be eager to join battle with its maneuverability limited like that, though its fighters likely still will. And…” Werner’s smile fell away.

  “What is it?”

  “We have five Gok ships approaching from the outer system. The first one will be here in under fifty minutes.”

  Chapter 67

  Hot Landing

  Husher hadn’t left the cockpit for the entire tense flight. He sat in silence, wishing he could help in some way as Blackwing sat hunched over the stealth ship’s controls, scrutinizing the viewscreen and various readouts.

  Luckily, the cold plate didn’t prevent them from viewing things on that side. Blackwing had explained that the ship had sensors mounted on cooled heads that poked through the plate—periscopes, essentially.

  Those same sensors had treated Husher to a magnified view of one of the orbital defense platforms as they passed overhead, and it had not inspired much confidence in him. He’d known about the Wingers’ total dedication to their self-assigned task of defending the Fins, but actually seeing the defenses they’d constructed to accomplish the task…

  He’d even been able to see guards moving about the platform, resembling insects at this remove. Some of the insects loomed much larger than the others. Gok. It shocked him to see Gok ground troops deployed alongside Wingers. And it worried him. If the Wingers were coordinating their military efforts so closely with a species that hated humanity, woul
d they really be open to human diplomacy?

  They’re just desperate to save their homeworld. So they’re taking all comers.

  The thought struck him as hollow, but clinging to it offered the only way to stay at all positive. If he couldn’t keep his own morale up, how could he expect it of the men and women under his command?

  “How close do you think you can get us to the central reactor?”

  The Winger glared at him, as though annoyed Husher was speaking. “Not close at all, human. I’d be insane to attempt a landing anywhere but the very edge of the platform. The rest of it bristles with sensors and weaponry. They’d spot us and then they’d shoot us down.”

  Husher noticed his teeth were grinding together, and he relaxed his jaw. “That’s unacceptable, Blackwing. Landing on the periphery will extend our mission time by way too much. All it takes is for one Talon to peel away from the fight with Keyes and it’s all over. They can take out this ship and then start bombarding us from above.”

  Blackwing started trembling, body language Husher knew well from his interactions from Fesky. “This is what happens when you allot two hours for mission planning, isn’t it? Details like this get overlooked.”

  “Especially when you neglect to mention you can only get us to the edge of the damned platform.”

  “You wanted a stealthy entrance, human, and this is what that looks like. As long as you apes don’t stumble around the platform, beating your chests and screaming like you so enjoy doing, everything should be fine. I’m performing the task you assigned me. I don’t do magic tricks.”

  Despite Blackwing’s slur, Husher managed to rein in his temper before it got the better of him. Bickering won’t accomplish much. He clenched his jaw to restrain the acidic retort he yearned to deliver.

  “We’re approaching,” the Winger said.

  Husher gazed at the cockpit’s main viewscreen, which had switched to a visual of the defense platform. Then he squinted. “Can you magnify that?”

  The orbital defense platform leapt closer. And so did large numbers of heavily armed troops, swarming over every part of the platform, including the edges.

  “Is this what you said stealth looks like, Blackwing?”

  The pirate clacked his beak. “They don’t look very relaxed, do they?” He punched a command into his console, and the ship’s lights turned red, accompanied by a deafening klaxon. When he spoke again, his voice also squawked out of overhead speakers, and the alarms decreased in volume. “Attention marines. The platform’s defenders know we’re coming. Prepare to engage the second we land.” He slapped his console, which stopped broadcasting his voice.

  “How did this happen, Blackwing? It’s—”

  “Unacceptable, yes, I understand that human. But they have a soft detect on us, and whining won’t change that. I suggest you join your marines and get ready for combat.”

  Lips pressed together, Husher stood. As he did, Blackwing opened fire on the platform defenders closest to them, clearing the area for what would clearly be a hot landing. With a nuke on board.

  So much for stealth.

  Chapter 68

  SNAFU

  Defeating enemy fighters meant reacting—not to their current location, but to where they’d be in the near future. Predicting the movements of an enemy that outnumbered you four to one presented a unique challenge.

  “Remember, keep as many Talons as possible on one side of your Condor,” Fesky squawked over the wide channel, to all her pilots. “If they start surrounding you, get out of there at speed, whip around, and fire.”

  As per her instructions in the ready room, for the most part her pilots weren’t bothering with big, cumbersome formations. Instead, they operated in pairs of wingmen, many of them human-Winger teams.

  Shrubs’s voice entered her helmet over their two-way channel. “You seeing what I’m seeing, Madcap?”

  “The four Talons riding low in the moon’s gravity well?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Let’s bracket them.”

  Both Condors swooped down, using the kinetic potential from their higher position to boost acceleration.

  Fesky eyed Shrubs’s trajectory on her tactical display. “Don’t try to engage two Talons at once. Fight your best one-on-one with the most immediate threat, dispatch it as quickly as possible, then move on to the next.”

  “Right, Madcap.”

  The two Condors screamed toward the enemy formation, the moon growing larger on Fesky’s visual display. Her threat indicator painted one of the Talons red, meaning it had a firing solution on her. She launched a Sidewinder missile at it and followed up with kinetic impactors, allowing herself to clack her beak in satisfaction when the enemy fighter exploded.

  Immediately she switched focus to the nearest Talon, which now also appeared red on her display. She managed to get off a few shots before rocketing past the enemy finger-four formation—or at least, what used to be a finger-four.

  “Okay, Shrubs. Let’s convert our energy into an upward climb and regain the advantage.”

  “Roger that, Madcap.”

  “I expect them to try to follow, and we can use our energy advantage to take out the remaining three.” Something caught her eye on the edge of her tactical display, and she swallowed, mashing the transponder again with her thumb. “Shrubs, we have eight bandits approaching. Break!”

  “No way. I can take out another of these Talons long before the others get here.”

  “I said break, Shrubs. They’re coming at us too quickly. Their ordnance will reach us faster than you—”

  “Sorry, Fesky. I know I can do this.”

  “I gave you a direct order!”

  But Shrubs fell away from her, having ceased her engine burn in order to point her guns back at the trio of Condors.

  “Damn it, Shrubs,” she muttered as she scrutinized her tactical display, racking her mind for what to do. There were no other Condors close enough to reach them in time, and anyway, everyone had their hands full. Do I help her clean up our initial targets or try to fend off eight God-damned fighters?

  Her question was answered for her as Shrubs’s vitals flatlined, the newcomers’ fire having reached her. Fesky resisted the urge to smash her console in frustration, instead angling her engines along an escape vector that seemed viable and going into guns-D maneuvering, making random changes to her speed and flight path in the hopes of avoiding getting hit by one of eleven Talons. I’m not ejecting again. Not this battle.

  An impactor hit her Condor as she escaped, washing the interior in red lighting. Thankfully, her gyros remained aligned, and it hadn’t pierced her cockpit. Spinning around her fighter’s short axis, she performed one last evasive engine burn before pointing her guns back at her pursuers and firing a suppressive burst across their new combat-spread formation. Two of them peeled away, and she must have knocked one of the Talons’ gyros out of alignment, since after a brief delay it exploded.

  A glance at her display showed her a lone Condor escaping from a similarly hairy situation. Fesky accelerated toward it, using her momentum to send kinetic impactors hurtling toward a group of five pursuing Talons. One of them fell out of formation with the rest—she’d taken out the pilot.

  “Thanks for the assist, Madcap,” the other Condor pilot said, rotating his bird to launch missiles at two separate targets.

  “Voodoo.” It was Husher’s favorite wingman.

  “I see you’re missing a wingman.”

  “It was Shrubs. She’s gone.”

  “Mine too. Partners?”

  “Sure.” If she could have picked, she would have preferred Husher, or one of the more talented pirates. But Husher wasn’t here, and if Voodoo was good enough for him, he was good enough for Fesky.

  Together, they made short work of the Talons chasing him—just in time to confront the eight still pursuing Fesky.

  Captain Keyes’s voice entered her helmet just as she and Voodoo were about to engage the approaching fighters. “Fe
sky, are you able to give me a sitrep?”

  “SNAFU, sir. You?”

  The captain chuckled, though even that sounded tense. “SNAFU here, too. Keyes out.”

  Fesky fired her weapons.

  Chapter 69

  Surprise

  “The first Gok ship will arrive in approximately seventeen minutes, sir.”

  Keyes caught himself in the middle of drumming his fingers against the Captain chair’s armrest. We need to even the odds before it gets here. They’d only managed to take out one more Roostship since their successful broadside. Meanwhile, the Winger warships pelted them with missiles only a little less powerful than Banshees, five of which had already gotten through.

  Two squadrons of Talons persisted in harrying them, too—there were enough Winger fighters for the enemy to spare some to focus on the Providence herself. So far the point defense turrets were keeping them at bay, but they’d already taken out one of his secondary gun batteries, and they’d soon hit more.

  A sudden explosion rocked them from the starboard side, and if the crew hadn’t already been strapped in, they would all have vacated their chairs. “What was that?” Keyes barked.

  Brow furrowed, his sensor operator scrutinized his console. “It looks like the Talons performed a coordinated strike against the aft-starboard side, engaging most of our point defense turrets there. Their efforts allowed them to get a ship-to-ship missile past our defenses. A row of laser banks exploded.”

  “Damn it. Was anyone hurt?”

  “Three injured, sir.”

  “Chief Warrant Officer Arsenyev. Can Fesky spare any Condors to come to our aid?”

  Arsenyev frowned. “I can send the order, but her pilots are barely holding their own as it is. Sending fighters our way won’t exactly improve their situation.”

  “Our job is to distract the enemy fleet, not defeat it. Nav, what are our options for evasive maneuvers?”

  “They’re pretty scant, given the Wingers’ orbital defense platforms. They have us pinned behind this moon, and if we so much as peek our nose out we can expect them to try to blow it off.”