by Scott Moon
Danzig rolled past the man and assumed control of the ship and the fleet. Without looking back, he squashed the captain’s argument. “We will neither leave the system nor stay here. Lieutenant Mud, take us to the Lagrange point from yesterday’s briefing.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Mud said.
“Comms, instruct the Fleet of the admiral’s orders,” Ford said.
Captain Roberts quietly stepped aside and handled his duties. Danzig monitored his behavior and understood his mood. He couldn’t quite figure that man out. Somewhere on the ship, there were people willing to assassinate him. He doubted Roberts had the physical courage to do such a thing, but maybe he didn’t know the man as well as he thought.
He might not have done it, but he could’ve given the order.
“We’ll have a run at Siris before the day is done. Let’s see how these Burner asswagons deal with a target moving at these speeds,” Danzig said.
“It’ll be like Rondus VII, Admiral,” Ford said.
Danzig laughed. “Let’s hope so.”
“XO, any last thoughts before we begin?”
“You’ve assembled a ragtag fleet, Admiral. It’s beautiful.”
He looked at the many display screens and holographic representations of the three-dimensional battlefield. Ford was right, and it was a sight to see. Every ship that could fight was in the formation, divided into three wings with the largest at the center. He learned from experience that over stacking one of his flanking elements led to it becoming the center of the battle rather than the flank. And when enemies came from above and below in any direction possible, control of these types of fights could quickly slip away.
Once he closed with his enemy, it would be all or nothing. His bridge officers worked frantically on coordination but also on projecting potential outcomes and bringing him scenarios to deal with.
Captain Roberts did his job well. A newcomer to this situation would never guess he had pushed back and argued for fleeing the system.
“I should have just put you in charge and left Captain Roberts on his ship,” Danzig said.
“Agreed, but it would’ve been inappropriate for me to suggest that,” Ford said. She looked tired but more beautiful than ever.
Danzig wondered if she was still having a relationship with Moreau.
“Tactical, give me an update on the Burners that pursued us to the Lagrange point,” Danzig ordered.
“They continued through the location and turned around pursue us. Looks like they’re holding back—maintaining a predetermined distance from our rear element.”
“They’re not going to attack now,” Captain Robert said. “They’re herding us forward. What we see as an attack, they see as a trap that will destroy us.”
“I disagree, but if so, then they’re in for a surprise,” Danzig said. “Communications, send out the encrypted packet one more time.”
This time, both Captain Roberts and Commander Ford tensed. They knew he’d included all details of their situation and his battle plan. It was a risk, but he believed the Burners didn’t care about his plans and that it was worth the risk to inform reinforcements of what he intended to do.
It no longer mattered if he believed help would come. There hadn’t been time for reinforcements to travel to the Siris system unless Black Fleet or White Fleet had been halfway here when Kimberly DeVries found them.
He knew Black Fleet had been lost for years and White Fleet would never leave Earth. But to abandon hope was too much. He’d be irresponsible if he hadn’t at least tried to send word.
The real reason he had requested help was to warn Earth what was coming. They needed to be ready.
“Any faster and we start losing ships. We’ve already had two fall behind. Burners destroyed them without slowing,” Ford said.
“Their pursuit ships are trying to catch up and will attack the moment they are in range. With respect, Admiral, this is what I anticipated,” Captain Roberts said from where he had assumed the responsibilities of a support officer rather than captain of the ship.
“The Burners sent a small force to ambush us as we jumped from the system; otherwise, there would be a lot more of them.” Danzig felt like a jerk for bullying his way around the ship he had put Roberts in charge of, but it had been his ship before he’d been promoted and he wasn’t about to start second-guessing himself at the beginning of a major space battle. Did the man resent him? Probably.
Roberts didn’t continue his argument and the crew accepted the discussion as routine. Danzig had never interacted this way with Roberts, but he had a reputation for allowing open discussion unless actively engaged with the enemy.
He did, however, wish he’d stopped to consider how other admirals handled the chain of command at this level. He’d have been better off to imitate Admiral Soldottir and taken a ship without a captain, then run his own flagship and fleet.
Because you can’t keep your hands off it, can you, Danzig?
On instinct, Danzig pulled up Roberts’ performance file and skimmed to his combat record. He’d read this before, but it seemed ages ago.
Surprised at what he found, he stared at the man and couldn’t understand why such a capable officer had backed down from command. Wanting to ask Ford her thoughts but not having time, he had a moment of introspection. He realized, even in his wheelchair, he was a bull in a china shop and had done his subordinate a disservice.
How would I have behaved if some admiral treated me like I’ve treated him?
“What are you thinking, Admiral?” Ford asked.
“That I never captained on a flagship before. That lack of experience may have cost me a good officer.”
“Doubtful,” she said.
Danzig didn’t have time to clarify what she meant. Maybe, when the orders were given and the long, hard drive back to Siris was underway, they could have a real discussion. He had too much on his mind right now and the bridge was no place for this.
There was no way Captain Roberts had attacked him in the hallway. He felt the truth of this conclusion in his gut. And right now, he needed someone who could fight a ship. The fleet needed an admiral. The Majesty needed a captain.
“Captain Roberts, you have the conn. I’ll oversee the fleet movements that you will direct everything on a tactical level. Is this understood?”
Roberts stood up, completely unfazed by the fact he had been pushed aside from his rightful command then required to resume his duties without an apology. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
He is a strange man, Danzig thought. I imagine he’s a really nice guy outside work, like someone you might want to date your sister.
Very few ship captains could set aside their ego for the greater good. It was a ruthless career path and not made for the faint of heart. Tired, not focusing on what he should focus on, Danzig pushed away a stream of images from his long career in the UNA. Gone were the days of commanding a single ship.
“Are you sure about this, Admiral?” Ford said quietly.
“Yes, Commander Ford.”
Roberts took his place and the crew responded. Danzig wasn’t sure they loved the man, but the normalcy of this change had an effect. The bridge crew, who had long been loyal to Danzig, seemed reinvigorated despite the danger they all faced.
Danzig moved to the communications hub and hooked into the safety harness. “Comms, patch me into the Fleet network.”
A moment passed.
“You’re connected now, Admiral.”
“Attention, all ships. Prepare to launch long-range missile salvos. We will follow procedure thirty-seven alpha—one test barrage followed by three staggered attacks. Adjust to their response accordingly,” he said. “Captain Roberts will lead off. Fire on his mark. He and his crew have tactical command.”
The squadrons of Burners that pursued the human fleet clawed after them, moving at reckless speeds to catch up. Danzig suspected they had been ordered to attack the human ships when they were vulnerable at pre-jump from the system. Now tha
t they were heading back into the fight, things had changed for everyone.
They thought we’d run. They wanted us to run. The burning freaks were going to give it to us when we were the most vulnerable.
The remaining ships around Siris spread out and raced toward the Lagrange point. The enemy fleet looked like a flower blooming—exploding with all of the fire and energy the Burner fleet exuded.
“Weapons, initiate thirty-seven alpha,” Roberts said.
“Missiles away.”
The tactical displays showed dozens of blips racing away from each UNA warship. Smaller vessels lacked weapons that could strike from this range.
Silence held the bridge. Occasionally, one of the bridge officers typed something on a keyboard or spoke softly to another person in their section.
Danzig slowed his breathing and made a conscious effort to relax each major muscle group in his body. Tensing up would be exhausting in a long engagement.
“Burners are deploying countermeasures,” the sensors officer said.
“That’s new,” Roberts replied almost jocularly.
“Burners sending long-range attacks; not sure if that means missiles or something else,” the sensors officer added.
Danzig’s gut clenched. His plan relied on the enemy waiting to engage in knife-fighting range, a tactic they’d used numerous times, basically ramming everything they could catch, then bursting out the other side of destroyed UNA ships.
“Admiral, a word, if you please,” Roberts said.
“Of course, Captain.”
They stepped into the estate room of Captain Roberts and closed the door.
27
Jeda’s Fight
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Circu said. “They’ve never been able to follow us this far before. That was a huge jump. The power they would have needed to make it can’t be calculated.”
Jeda considered her private estimations of what the jump must've cost the vast Noctari fleet. “Something’s changed. I don’t think we’re dealing with just the Guide anymore.”
“If it pleases the admiral, I believe it is time to recall the smaller ships and look for another jump point,” Circu said. “Then start again.”
“We can only thread the needle so many times, XO. And if it failed to shake them off our trail once, it will fail again.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Circu said, “but the small ships need to come in.”
Jeda made a gesture with her right hand and her crew carried out the order.
“Admiral," the communications officer said, “we have one ship refusing to dock."
"Let me guess. It's the DeVries girl?"
"Yes, Admiral.”
"Put me through.” Moments later, she was staring at the young woman. "Miss DeVries, is there a reason you’re holding up the entire fleet while the enemy gathers around us?"
"Is that what I'm doing?"
"The order was given for all small ships to dock and refuel."
Jeda wondered what this young woman would say.
"Maybe I'm going to make a run for it with my crew. I was given an order by Admiral Robedeaux to continue to Earth and warn them of the coming attack," Kimberly said. “So there's nothing you can really do to stop me."
“If you believe that, DeVries, you're not as smart as I thought you were."
"I'm pulling your chain, Admiral. What you said about White Fleet makes sense. Danzig sent messages to warn Earth. My testimony won't add much to its credibility. If they don't believe their admirals, they won’t listen to me. So what I'm saying is that I'll stay and help you, but I'm doing things my way because I'm not part of your fleet."
"Do you need fuel?" Jeda asked.
DeVries laughed. “No ship captain ever turns down free fuel, but I'm good for a bit longer. I'd rather not be stuck inside that big ship when everything starts to go bad."
"Small ships will be safer inside capital ships. That's why I gave the order," Jeda said.
"Why don't we agree to disagree.”
Jeda drew one hand across her neck to signal her communications officer. The screen went dark and silent.
Circu chuckled. "It seems Miss DeVries doesn't understand the chain of command."
"No, she doesn't. For the sake of argument, is there any validity in her assertion about smaller ships being safer while deployed?"
"I'll run an analysis, but I believe the young woman has very good instincts."
"Are you advising me to run the fleet on instinct?"
"No, Admiral, I'm merely pointing out the woman seems to know what she's doing."
Jeda reviewed reports from every ship in her fleet. The Noctari continued to flow through the wormhole that they shouldn’t have been able to navigate. Somewhere in the galaxy, a star had just died from the drain Guidis, or even Hanax, had put on it.
“Admiral, a new hail from the Escaping Doctor,” comms said.
“On screen.”
"Admiral, the landing bay looks like it's about to get busy,” DeVries said. “You have boarding parties assaulting the Honor."
"She's not lying," Circu said. "And other ships are reporting similar incidents, including some of the small ships that are stuck outside with the Escaping Doctor."
Alerts sounded throughout the ship.
“Major Jackson, prepare to repel boarders.”
"Right away, Admiral.” The Marine slapped his gauntlets against his palm and marched into the hallway, taking all but two of the bridge guard with him.
Jeda kept three viewscreens up on her primary display. One was her ship Marines. She turned up the audio to listen in on Major Jackson and the others.
He marched down the corridor in full combat gear, infrared markers on his armor displaying his rank and identification to the other Marines. When the darkness came, the advanced optics package the man had refined over the years would be needed. Close combat with the Guide’s creatures was always a nightmare.
One squad after another filed out of their quarters or from other stations. Strapping down gear and readying weapons, they rushed to catch up. Tactical updates, nearly as detailed but more concise than her bridge officers provided, filled the Marine comms. Jeda adjusted the volume at her terminal.
"Look sharp, people,” Jackson said. “We've never seen a boarding party of this magnitude. This is the main event. Time to show the sailors in this fleet what Marines do for them.”
A shout went up. "Oorah!"
“Squads and fire teams, you know your assignments. We’ve trained for this. It’s just another fight. Communicate and fall back when needed,” Jackson said. “Deck 12A, position 1 will be our first hard defense. We’ll make them work for this one.”
Jeda watched Marines peel away from the group to occupy hardened positions. The Honor had been boarded before and Jackson’s people knew their business.
“Status report, Major,” Jeda ordered.
“Video feeds are still down for most of the landing bay. Lots of smoke. Should encounter the enemy momentarily.” The Marine officer left this comm open to Jeda but directed his attention to his officers and noncoms.
“Stay on top of your teams. Most of us have done this before, but don’t take their experience for granted. This is going to be nasty.”
Explosions and smoke poured from the docking bay. Jeda resisted the urge to ask for further updates or give orders.
The first of the Guide creatures emerged with weapons ready. Their trinocular faces creeped Jeda out. She’d never forget the first time she’d faced them and nearly been killed.
“Shit!” Jackson roared as a wall near him was sliced open to admit a swarm of the monsters. He’d expected them to assault through the bay doors they’d just breached. Instead, they made three additional holes and swarmed in like never before.
“Gold Squad, pivoting toward the new threat!” Jackson shouted, which wasn’t like him. “Get some, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Everywhere, Marines were fighting. Jackson and Gold Squad took the brunt of the atta
ck.
Jackson fired his short-barreled weapon at close range, dropping three attackers in rapid succession. The weapon was nearly useless in an open environment, but for work this close, it sent enemies flying backward with holes in their chests or heads missing.
“Dress your lines.” Jackson kicked a tall, top-heavy creature backward. The Guide’s minions were heavily muscled from the waist up but had skinny legs like a robot might have. They moved with surprising strength and speed.
Lights went out. Jeda watched with infrared, not new technology but very effective with the modifications to the ship interior Jackson had made. Over the years, he’d had work crews drawing infrared reflective markers on nearly every surface that soldiers of the Darkness might board. The result was a skeletal framework of the ship and Marines identified by numbers and hashmarks on their gear.
“Form up! Form up! Dress your lines and report,” Jackson grunted. His voice remained loud, but he was no longer yelling at his people. This was the Marine Jeda was accustomed to watching.
He reloaded while the noncom of Gold Squad fired into the seething mass enemies pushed toward them. Their trinocular helmets looked more organic than mechanical and they keened a sound that served no purpose Jeda had been able to decipher.
“My turn.” Jackson opened fire. The noncom and another Marine reloaded. The platoon lieutenant arrived with Silver Squad and a team of medics. Two wounded men were dragged to the back of the skirmish line.
“All right, time to shit and git. All units, rally at Deck 12A, position 1!” Jackson ordered.
This was the part Jeda could barely watch. A member of each squad tossed smoke grenades into their respective hallways, then turned and sprinted away from the enemy. There was no good way to retreat from these things. Speed was the key. Abrupt, total flight from danger surprised the Guide things. They pursued, but by that time, Jackson and his Marines had converged from a dozen hallways to a major intersection.
