by Dietmar Wehr
“This is New Caledon Planetary Defense Center calling the ships that are approaching our planet. Identify yourselves and your intentions immediately or be considered as hostile.”
From the sidebar data, Strider knew that it would take almost two seconds for that message to reach the ships and as long again for any reply to reach the planet, not including any time in between while the senior officer decided what to say. He and Terrington had to wait 16 seconds before they heard the reply.
“This is Admiral Mirakova of the Enlightened Republic of Valhalla Navy acting on behalf of our Supreme Leader, Manfred Grosse. The Supreme Leader has decided to protect your planet from the ravages of the raiders by declaring New Caledon to be a Protectorate of the Enlightened Republic of Valhalla. Your primitive ships are no longer necessary. You will order them to land and all other defensive formations to stand down so that my ships can land and begin the peaceful transition to the new reality.”
Strider didn’t know whether to laugh at or be appalled by the tone of the response. He looked over to Terrington, who clearly did not appear to find the response amusing. Their own reply was much quicker.
“The people of New Caledon do not wish to become anyone’s Protectorate, and we will resist any attempt to force that on us by all means at our disposal. If your ships come any closer, they will be fired upon.”
The display pinged to bring attention to a status change. Dauntless was now reaching orbital altitude. Strider also noticed that Fearless and the other two light cruisers were in the process of coming together, and it looked like all three of them would reach Dauntless at about the same time.
“I’m giving you one last chance to change your minds. The choice you have is fair treatment as a Protectorate or harsh treatment as a conquered planet. Our Supreme Leader had seen a glorious future for the Enlightened Republic that will eventually include hundreds of planets under his magnificent leadership. I urge all of you to put aside your foolish pride and join the Tide of History.”
“This is your last warning, Admiral Mirakova. Leave our system now or be fired upon. We will not respond to any further attempts at communication.”
When more than 16 seconds had passed with no movement from the lead Valhalla ship, Terrington turned to Strider.
“When they move in, what would you do if you were commanding our ships?”
Strider thought fast. “I’d order all four ships to fire a missile barrage at their lead ship. I’m assuming that’s where Mirakova is. If their flagship can be knocked out of action—and maybe Mirakova too—then the other ship might withdraw. In any case, a massed barrage will tell us how good their defenses are.”
“What about taking the battle to them by moving our ships closer?”
“Risky,” said Strider, “What if there’s a third ship waiting to come charging in from the opposite side as soon as our ships are too far away to stop it?”
“That’s a valid point,” said Terrington, “but if our ships stay close to the planet, there’s the risk that Mirakova’s missiles might miss their targets and hit the planet instead, assuming he doesn’t target the planet deliberately.”
Strider wanted to point out that enemy missiles could still miss the defending ships and hit the planet no matter where the defending force was, but he didn’t want to get into an argument with the General while the two forces in space were trying to figuratively stare each other down.
“PDC is switching communication with Fearless to Tac one, General,” said a technician who was manning one of the dozen or so consoles.
“Let’s hear it, Sergeant,” said Terrington.
“—Fearless. If either ship enters max missile range, all four ships are to fire full missile barrage at the lead enemy ship.”
“Understood, PDC.”
Strider was surprised at how calm Hanson’s voice was.
“Let me see our ships’ maximum missile range,” said Terrington.
Four circles appeared. Each one was centered on one of the defending ships. As the ships got closer to each other, the circles began to overlap more and more. The two Valhallan ships were still a considerable distance outside the circles.
“Why—” Terrington cut his question off when he saw both Valhallan ships suddenly accelerate towards the planet. Strider checked the radar data and nodded. The Valhallan ships were accelerating at roughly the same rate as Fearless was capable of and slower than the three unarmored light cruisers. That told him that their propulsion technology at least was comparable to Hanson’s ships. Hopefully missile technology would be, at worst, comparable as well.
The two enemy ships, represented by red triangles, were gaining velocity, but they still had a way to go before reaching the circles. Strider did a quick calculation in his head and started muttering.
“Fire, Hanson. Fire now.”
“Why are you saying he should fire now? They’re not within max range yet,” said Terrington with obvious annoyance.
“But they will be by the time our missiles reach max range, General. If Hanson fires now, it’ll make Mirakova wonder how advanced our missiles are”.
Terrington pondered that for a few seconds before responding. “Get me a secure channel to PDC,” he ordered. When the channel was established, he turned away to avoid being overheard by the console technicians.
“Frank, it’s Matt Terrington. Listen, Frank. Hanson should be ordered to fire his first barrage right now because the hostiles will be within missile range by the time the missiles get that far. Firing now might convince those arrogant pricks that our missile technology is better than theirs. That psychological advantage could prove to be decisive if it makes them back off.” There was a pause. “Yeah…right…okay, Frank. Thanks for listening.”
When Terrington returned to where he’d been standing, he pointed to the display. “PDC is calculating the point when the enemy ships can’t avoid moving into missile range if they try to decelerate, and Hanson will be—”
“PDC to Fearless. Once the range to the enemy ships drops to one hundred forty-four thousand, six hundred ten miles, they’ll be unable to avoid entering missile range even if they decelerate. Fire your first barrage when the range drops to that level.”
“Ah…understood, PDC. They’ll be within range by the time our missiles get there. Nice. We’ll be ready by then.”
“Let’s project that range on the display,” said Terrington. A red line appeared that cut across the space between the two ships and the planet. It took the Valhallan ships less than five minutes to reach the red line.
“All ships have fired!” said Hanson. New icons now appeared on the display. Each new icon had a number inside, indicating how many missiles that ship had fired. Strider held his breath while he waited to see if Mirakova would change his approach. Twelve seconds later he got his answer. The display pinged for attention.
“They’re decelerating now,” said Terrington. He smiled. “Too late, you bastards.”
“Second barrage is just about ready,” said Hanson.
Strider nodded. “Don’t wait. Keep firing,” he said under his breath. Terrington nodded too. Hanson was thinking the same thing.
“Second barrage is firing in…three…two…one…now!” they heard him say. More green icons appeared. The first wave and the enemy ships were still on opposite sides of the red line, but it was already obvious that Mirakova’s ships wouldn’t be able to avoid crossing it.
Just before the enemy ships crossed the red line, they seemed to vomit two groups of their own missiles.
“Their missile range is just about the same as ours, it seems,” said Terrington.
Eight seconds later, the enemy flagship was hit by Hanson’s first barrage. Fearless had fired 12 missiles, while each of the light cruisers had fired 8 for a total of 36. Two seconds later, the display flashed a white light as the energy from those detonations temporarily overloaded the radar receivers that supplied the tactical data. When the tsunami of heat, light and EM energy had passed, t
he display cleared up, and Strider heard shouts of exaltation from the console techs. It was obvious that Mirakova’s flagship had been damaged. It was no longer decelerating, and the icon was now flashing to denote that radar was picking up debris that had been blasted free. The other ship was still decelerating and was therefore falling behind the flagship.
“Nice to know that enough atomic warheads can damage a ship with collapsed-matter armor. If that ship didn’t have any, it would have been completely vaporized,” said Terrington. Strider said nothing. The battle wasn’t won yet. He heard Hanson’s voice.
“Third barrage is ready. Switching targets. Firing in two…one…now!”
Three seconds later, the undamaged Valhallan ship fired again but not the flagship. Strider looked at the enemy’s first missile volley and heard himself say “Damn! Each light cruiser is being targeted!”
Hanson’s second barrage reached its target, which was still the flagship. The collapsed-matter armor prevented the warheads from vaporizing the ship, but it didn’t prevent them from smashing the ship into multiple large pieces as the red icon likewise broke apart.
The destruction of the enemy flagship was certainly very satisfying, but Strider would have been happier if the second barrage had been targeted on the other ship instead. It wasn’t Hanson’s fault. Strider realized that too. The second volley was fired before the results from the first one were known.
He and Terrington watched in silence as the enemy’s first wave of missiles reached the AF ships. All three light cruisers were simply blown to atoms. Fearless seemed to survive, but when the PDC tried to contact Hanson, he didn’t answer.
Terrington shook his head. His expression was grim. “Fearless is in trouble. They’ve had enough time now to fire a fourth barrage, and they’re not doing it.”
The second Valhallan ship had decelerated to just about zero velocity when Hanson’s third and final volley hit. The icon remained intact but was flashing and not moving. For reasons that Strider didn’t understand, the enemy’s second volley appeared to have aimed at the same targets as the first volley. With those targets no longer in existence, those missiles simply flew past Fearless. Strider was relieved that they wouldn’t end up hitting the planet when they ran out of power.
“Dammit!” snarled Terrington. “It looks like Fearless and that ship are both too damaged to finish the other off. If that ship manages to repair itself enough to get even one missile launch tube operational before Fearless does the same, they could lay waste to the entire planet, and they’re too far away for A-15-launched missiles to reach them.”
Strider lost touch with how much time passed as both ships sat there. Eventually, the display pinged again. The second Valhallan ship was now accelerating again, but away from the planet and far more slowly than before.
“I think they’re leaving, General,” said Strider.
Terrington waited a few seconds before responding. “It does look that way. I guess we call this a victory, but it’s a damned expensive one. If the Star Wolves show up now, we’d be almost defenseless.” He paused while he turned his gaze to Fearless’ icon. It was still motionless.
“We’ve got to send at least one shuttle up to Fearless to find out what condition the ship and the crew are in. There might be injured aboard. Get down to the spaceport, Captain. Take command of the first shuttle with a medical and an engineering team and get up there. The crew’s needs come first, but after that, we need to know if Fearless can be repaired and how fast it can be done.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”
The air car that carried him to the spaceport had the capability to contact his house, and he took a few minutes to do so. Samantha was back now. Troy was still at school. He assured Samantha that he was okay, that the attack appeared to have been beaten off and that he was leading the rescue and recovery effort. He told her that he loved her; She told him to be careful.
Chapter Eighteen
The medical and engineering teams were ready to go by the time his air car landed next to the shuttle. The pilot, Lieutenant O’Leary, was a little annoyed that he wasn’t deemed capable of taking charge of the mission himself. Strider wasn’t in the mood to smooth his ruffled feathers. He ordered everyone to get themselves and their gear on board and told O’Leary to get takeoff clearance asap.
When the shuttle was on its way up, Strider, who was sitting beside O’Leary in the cockpit, asked PDC for an update on the Valhallan ship. It was still accelerating away from the planet and was now almost half a million miles distant. That made Strider feel better. If that ship’s commander decided to come back for another attack, the time it would take to decelerate to zero and then re-accelerate in the opposite direction would give the shuttle plenty of time to get back to the planet.
It took almost half an hour for the shuttle to achieve orbit, then swing around to where Fearless was now and decelerate enough to rendezvous with the ship. Strider made sure that PDC and Terrington could see via the shuttle’s external cameras what he and O’Leary were seeing with their own eyes. An audio channel was open too.
“Range to Fearless is now nine hundred yards,” said O’Leary in a quiet voice.
Strider was looking at the video screen showing the zoomed-in image. One side of the ship was caved in and looked like a partially-deflated soccer ball. Thermal imaging was still showing high temperatures from the warhead explosion.
“I can see the ship clearly now,” said Strider. “The good news is that Fearless is not tumbling. The bad news is that there is major structural damage to the hull on one side. Hopefully the docking hatch on the other side has not become jammed from the concussion and there’s still enough power to operate the mechanism. Are you seeing these pictures, PDC?”
“Affirmative, Shuttle One. Proceed to docking hatch on opposite side.”
“Did you catch that, Lieutenant?” asked Strider.
“I caught it, Captain. Changing approach vector to come around on the far side. Range is now five hundred fifty yards.”
“The far side docking hatch appears to be undamaged,” said Strider a minute later. “We’re moving in for docking.”
Strider kept quiet from that point on in order not to distract O’Leary from the delicate docking maneuver. Normally the shuttle would have entered Fearless’ shuttle bay, but the entrance was on the side that had been caved in, and it was quite obvious that the bay doors were too damaged to open. Docking with the external hatch had been designed as a last resort way for the crew to leave the ship or vice versa. The collapsed-matter armor made it difficult to incorporate life boats, so the only two ways to get off the ship were the shuttle bay and the external docking hatches, of which there were two, one on each side.
O’Leary handled the final maneuvers deftly, and Strider said so.
“Thanks, Captain. Okay, PDC, Shuttle One is docked with Fearless. The connecting tube is pressurizing.”
Strider was already climbing out of the co-pilot’s seat as PDC acknowledged O’Leary’s report. He gave Olearly a ‘good job’ pat on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to the main cabin. The engineers were already getting their equipment ready. If the ship was completely out of power, they could hook up the shuttle’s power to the hatch mechanism. It was too heavy to be pulled open by hand since the outside of the hatch was covered with a layer of collapsed matter. With zero gravity inside the shuttle, Strider and the medical team tried their best not to collide with each other while they waited to see if the hatch could be opened.
The engineering team leader reported good news. “Docking hatch is opening, Captain! That means the ship still has some power. No change in atmospheric pressure, so the ship is still airtight. Artificial gravity’s not working though. Looks like the med team is good to go!”
“Very good, Sanchez. You and your team can go on in and begin your systems survey. The medics and I will follow. PDC, we have access and are proceeding to check the status of the crew and the ship. Audio will be lost once we’re i
nside.”
“We acknowledge your transmission, Captain. Please report any news as soon as you can. Over.”
“Understood,” said Strider. “Lieutenant O’Leary, I want you to come back here and stand by the hatch opening in case we call you for help.” Strider waited just long enough to make sure that O’Leary was coming before he followed the medical team inside Fearless. The team had already been briefed on how to proceed. Each of the four medical personnel would head for a different part of the ship. Strider followed the medic assigned to the Command Deck. They were able to gain access, but the Command Deck itself was without power and only had emergency lighting. Everyone inside was either dead or unconscious. Strider suspected that the concussion from the atomic warhead was violent enough to snap necks or cause brain hemorrhages. Hanson was still alive but unconscious, and blood was seeping from his nose, ears and eyes. The medic quickly checked everyone and looked at Strider with a grim expression.
