by John Lumpkin
Hang in there, the contact said. Help is on the way.
“Cut the candle and initiate turnover,” Captain Thorne said. Across the fleet, a score of ships performed the same maneuver, slowly pitching forward until their tails were pointed at Kuan Yin. They were at the halfway mark, two weeks into their approach to the planet.
The Hans were coming to meet them.
They launched from Kuan Yin a few days after the allied fleet had entered the system. Neil knew the Chinese admiral had three choices: wait at the planet and duke it out in orbit, make a single, high-speed, head-to-head run against the fleet, or match velocities and engage in a maneuvering fight.
The prospect of a head-to-head pass worried Neil the most; when ships were moving fast enough, even small weapons could do immense damage. At a closing speed of 100 kips, a two-kilo dart would do as much damage as six tons of explosives. A few such battles had taken place in the war so far – almost all initiated by the Japanese – and they had ended with near-total annihilation of both sides. A captain had to be insanely brave or desperate to initiate a high-speed attack run. It was just too easy for both sides to kill each other.
But after a week of accelerating, the Chinese ships underwent turnover, to the great relief of everyone in the allied fleet. It meant the Hans planned a “speedtrap” intercept – allowing the allies to catch up to their position as they both approached Kuan Yin.
By now, the Chinese fleet had bled off most of the velocity it had built up pulling away from Kuan Yin, and it would soon start moving back toward the planet. In a little more than a week’s time, the two fleets would be in the same place – about 10 million kilometers from the planet – moving at close to the same speed. The decelerating allied ships would have their tails pointed toward Kuan Yin; while the Han fleet would have their tails pointed toward the Americans.
At any point, Admiral Bannon could change course or stop decelerating. But that would only delay the Hans’ intercept, and the allies would risk missing Kuan Yin entirely. The Chinese had more fuel and a slightly faster fleet, and Bannon saw no reason to put off the inevitable.
As the fleets closed, Commander Raleigh started a forum for the fleet’s intelligence officers to analyze the Chinese. It was a remarkably open discussion, and Neil learned to appreciate the commander’s ability to get everyone thinking. Raleigh made clear this wasn’t training: He wasn’t asking questions that he knew the answers to. He wanted ideas.
CDR RALEIGH (EAGLE): WHY ARE THE HANS MEETING US AWAY FROM THE PLANET? WHY NOT FIGHT US IN ORBITAL SPACE, WITH THEIR SURFACE LASER CANNON BACKING THEM UP?
LT ROJAS (SAVANNAH): SUGGEST THEY ARE PROTECTING THEIR ORBITAL FUEL AND REPAIR STATIONS. WE COULD TAKE THEM OUT DURING AN ORBITAL ENGAGEMENT, EVEN IF WE AREN’T ABLE TO LAND TROOPS. THEY NEED THIS BASE TO LAUNCH ATTACKS INTO US-UK-AUS SPACE.
FO WU (FREMANTLE): ANY REPORTS THEIR SPACE DEFENSE ARTILLERY HAVE BEEN DEGRADED?
CDR RALEIGH (EAGLE): NEGATIVE. US SHIPS IN EARLIER BATTLE OVER KUAN YIN DID NOT GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO PLANET TO ENGAGE THEM. OUR SDA WAS WIPED OUT, OF COURSE.
ENS MERCER (SAN JACINTO): SPECULATE IT IS PRESENCE OF MOGAMI THAT IS DRAWING CHINESE OUT. GIVEN SHIP’S REPUTATION AMONG CHINESE THEY MAY FEAR IT WILL BOMBARD CIVILIAN TARGETS ON THE SURFACE.
CDR RALEIGH (EAGLE): NICE THOUGHT. IF THAT MEANS WE CAN ENGAGE THEM WITHOUT DEALING WITH SURFACE LASERS, I’LL TAKE IT.
No Japanese officer took part in the discussion.
The forum wasn’t a total free-for-all, though. A junior lieutenant on the Curtis LeMay posted a lengthy question that implied that Admiral Bannon had made a mistake bringing the assault carriers and supply vessels along with the fleet. Why not leave them at the keyhole, and bring them in to invade after the Han fleet was defeated, instead of risking them in the upcoming battle?
Neil was one of the few to read the question before Raleigh deleted it. Later, on a late-night watch in CIC, he delicately asked the same question of Lieutenant Commander Davis.
“We’re in a hurry. Political pressure,” the operations officer replied. “With our losses around Earth, America needs a win, and soon. Space Command doesn’t want to wait a month after we kill the Han fleet to report we’ve successfully liberated Sequoia. Of course, we may have to spend a month softening up their defenses on the ground before we can land troops anyway.”
Mister Donovan:
We do not know each other well, and I suppose that is a good thing. I have not been able to discern much about my son’s death, and my wife and I are extremely upset at your refusal to provide even the barest information.
Damn your claim that the matter is classified. I don’t even know where the boy died, or where you sent his body. We can only wonder if his death was your fault.
Isaac Sato
“All hands, stand by for K-H event transit to Groombridge 1618,” Dextrous’ captain announced over the ship’s intercom.
Five light-years closer to home, all in the blink of an eye. It had been a lonely run … the ship had only seen a single freighter, two systems back, since they left the fleet. Donovan would be glad to get this final leg of the trip over with. He had been denied his favorite pastimes – reading the news and shooting the bull. The keyhole communications buoys were again down, probably the result of another computer virus winding its way through the stars, and it had been weeks since he had received an update.
Worse, he found himself without anyone to talk to. Sun Haisheng was immersed in plans for his triumphant return to Earth, but he consulted with Donovan only sporadically. Dextrous’ small crew was polite but wanted little to do with him, and he rarely spoke with San Jacinto’s wounded, most of whom despised him.
The ship’s acceleration alarm sounded, three short tones emitted from intercoms and handhelds throughout. This was unexpected. His wonder growing, Donovan felt pressure in his stomach, and down was toward the wall behind him.
The ship was pivoting, possibly undergoing turnover.
He heard a crash and felt a brief draft.
He recognized the sensation, from when San Jacinto took a laser hit. How could we be under attack? We’re solidly behind friendly lines … unless we aren’t.
The pivot ended, and the main drive fired. Down returned to where it should be, beneath him, though he was suddenly close to Earth weight.
His handheld sounded again. Sun Haisheng, a few rooms over, was calling him. He ignored it, and he felt at his waist for his emergency bubble, compressed in a small pouch on his belt. If the ship depressurized, he could inflate the bubble around him to stay alive for several hours, longer if he could get to an air tank.
Crashes, closer now. The weight abruptly ceased, and Donovan knew a brief pang of fear as he wondered what would happen if the fusion candle let go inside the mouth of the wormhole.
Several minutes of silence passed. Did we go back through? He was unable to tell whether the ship had completed a full turnover.
Over the intercom came a scared voice, one unfamiliar to Donovan. “All hands, this is Ensign Crayton in Engineering. A Han destroyer jumped us at the wormhole. We’re no longer receiving orders from the bridge, and we lost our main and backup remass lines to the drive. The destroyer will overtake us shortly, and I have communicated our surrender. Do not oppose their boarding.”
The spy’s heart sank. We were so close to making it. He wondered what the Chinese would do to him if they figured out who he worked for.
San Jacinto’s telescope operator tried not to let his voice betray any of the anxiety he felt. “Chinese fleet undergoing turnover to face us. Range 11,200 kilometers.”
“Signal from the flag,” Vikram said. “All ships orient to face enemy fleet.”
Captain Thorne nodded and ordered turnover. The decelerating allied fleet had caught up to the Chinese fleet, which was closing to intercept.
The count was eighteen Chinese and Korean ships to the allies’ 27, but only twenty of the friendlies were capable of offensive action. The others were the assa
ult carriers Brazos, Potomac, Pecos and Gila, and the fleet support ships, now dropping back from the main body of the fleet, guarded by a lone frigate.
“Flag signals all vessels take up formation,” Vikram said.
The allied fleet arrayed in five columns, with San Jacinto leading the leftmost, three frigates in her wake. Mogami led the column to San Jacinto’s immediate right. Eagle led the center column and the cruiser Curtis LeMay the one beyond. Captain Courtenay and Swiftsure led the fifth on the right flank.
The formation put the best defended ships in the fleet top-and-center. Admiral Bannon reasoned these ships, and their tough armored bows, would be able to endure the long-range laser fire from the two Chinese beam cruisers while the allied fleet closed the distance.
“Main squadron, accelerate at 125 milligees. Flag signals flanking squadrons to break now, now, now.”
San Jacinto and her three charges – the frigates Fremantle, Bayandor and Pawnee – pivoted away from the main formation and fired their drives. Neil felt some of his weight return; the flanking squadrons were accelerating at about four-tenths of Earth’s gravity. The ship was burning prodigious amounts of fuel, but it was to the allies’ advantage to close the gap between the fleets as quickly as possible.
Neil peered around the CIC. Tom was in his usual seat across the room. Erin’s station was now in front of him, next to the weapons officer, Lang. Not once did she turn to look or talk to him.
It was not the same crew that had gone into the battle over Commonwealth. They were bloodied in combat, now, somewhat more assured of their abilities, somewhat more trusting of the ship they operated. They shouted less, announced pointless information less, even joked a little bit. But they weren't hardened veterans yet. Did we just get lucky before? Would the admiral make the right decisions? Would the rest of the fleet screw up?
On the far side of the fleet, Swiftsure and two consorts also broke from the main formation. Bannon was using some of his fast ships and slight numerical superiority to try to outflank the Chinese fleet from two sides. Some Chinese ships adjusted their positions, creating a box of protection around the two Shichangs.
Neil linked with the other intelligence officers in the San Jacinto’s small squadron for a running discussion on the battle.
ENS MERCER (SAN JACINTO): THIS REMIND ANYONE ELSE OF A NAPOLEONIC-ERA LAND BATTLE? EAGLE’S LEADING THE INFANTRY, AND WE’RE THE CAVALRY, CHARGING THEIR FLANKS. THE HANS HAVE THE SUPERIOR ARTILLERY WITH THE SHICHANGS.
FO WU (FREMANTLE): ALL RIGHT THEN, WHERE ARE THE SKIRMISHERS?
SS RAZAVI (BAYANDOR): I’M SORRY, BUT OUR TRANSLATION PROGRAM JUST SAID YOU ASKED ABOUT A BREED OF HUNTING DOG.
FO WU (FREMANTLE): HA. CONFUSED WITH HARRIER, PERHAPS? SKIRMISHERS ARE HISTORICAL LIGHT INFANTRY, SENT TO HARASS AND WEAKEN AN INVADING FORCE BEFORE THE MAIN BODIES ENGAGE.
SS RAZAVI (BAYANDOR): THEY ARE LIKE THE ROMAN VELITES. I UNDERSTAND NOW. I SUPPOSE OUR MISSILES WOULD QUALIFY?
ENS HARDIN (PAWNEE): MAKES SENSE TO ME.
Neil thought it over. If the analogy held – and Neil wasn’t sure if it did – they should start firing missiles now, despite the expectation they would nearly all be shot down during their twenty-minute flight time. At this range, the Hans could dodge many of them entirely, as missiles could only turn so far before running out of maneuver fuel, but it might disrupt their formation.
But Admiral Bannon refrained from ordering a standoff attack with the fleet’s depleted missile stocks. He wanted to get in close, and overwhelm the Han defenses with a massed strike.
New data flowed into Neil’s computer, as the spreading fleet was able to observe the Hans from several angles. The Hans had seven cruisers, including three heavies, five destroyers and six frigates. The computer identified the two beam cruisers as the Deng Shichang, the original ship of the class, and the Zhou Man. The flagship was the heavy cruiser Weisheng – which Neil translated as Commanding Victory.
“Mogami taking fire!” a sensor tech called.
The two Chinese beam cruisers, revenge in their hearts, lashed out at the Japanese warship the moment it entered the limit of their effective range. Their beams came in one-second bursts, long enough to burn holes through Mogami’s forward armor plate. The ships had their radiators out, but it still took each weapon nearly a minute to cool off enough to fire again.
Neil stared at the blown-up image of the Zhou Man in frustration. Those cooling fins were exposed and vulnerable, if only an allied ship had the weapons to target them.
After suffering twenty minutes of laser fire, Mogami had had enough. Her top had been holed repeatedly, and her nose-mounted weapons were gone. She broke from formation, underwent turnover and thrust away, firing a weak spray of missiles to her aft. The British beam destroyer Trenchant took her place at the top of Mogami’s column.
“Thanks for the help, pal,” Tom growled at an image of Mogami on one of CIC’s large monitors.
“Hey, at least he took the heat off of our guys for a while,” Davis said.
The other Japanese ship in the fleet, the Kiyokaze, remained in formation.
Now the beam cruisers split their targets, lining up one each on the two largest American ships, Eagle and Curtis LeMay. Both suffered. Allied ships directed all their laser power to their counterbatteries and tried to punch back, but the Chinese fire did not slacken.
Neil leaned to Davis, sitting to his right. “Commander Davis, we’re getting ripped. What if the fleet fired its missiles now?”
Davis turned to face him. “Might shake things up a bit. We could force those beam cruisers to maneuver and give us some more time to close. But you saw how well Mogami’s missiles did,” Davis said, grimacing. They had all been shot down. “Doesn’t matter. We’re to stick with the plan.”
Curtis LeMay, targeted by the Shichang, took another hit. She veered off, believing the best time to move was when Shichang’s laser was cooling.
But the Hans were ready for the maneuver. Zhou Man quickly retargeted the Curtis LeMay and hit her flank.
The effect was catastrophic. The beam hit one of the Curtis LeMay’s storage batteries, which exploded, blowing a huge hole in the side of the ship. The blast imparted a small spin on the big cruiser, and she strayed further from formation. After twenty long seconds, Curtis LeMay thrust to right herself, only to be hit again.
“Curtis LeMay is disabled,” Tom announced. “Control systems are badly damaged. They’re attempting repairs.”
The light cruiser Savannah moved up to take her place, and paid the price with repeated hits from the Shichang. Zhou Man returned to fire on the Eagle.
San Jacinto and the three frigates with her, still thousands of kilometers from the Han fleet, all pivoted to start their attack run.
“Comms,” Thorne said. “Contact the flag, request weapons free.” She had seen the damage to the allied fleet’s heaviest vessels, and reached the same conclusion Neil had – they needed to do something to disrupt the Han fleet.
“Flag replies negative,” Lieutenant Vikram said a moment later. “Weapons free in two-zero minutes.”
Thorne shook her head in dismay. Bannon would not alter the plan.
A bright flash appeared on one of their screens. One hundred and seventy lives ended in a fireball.
“That’s Savannah. Lost antimatter containment. She’s gone,” Tom said quietly. “Eagle is dropping back in formation.”
At last Trenchant moved into range. The British destroyer, the only allied ship with a long-range laser, scored hits on the Shichang, but the Han cruiser’s armored shutter protected its own laser cannon. Both she and Zhou Man switched to target Trenchant, knocking out her laser mirror after five minutes of sustained fire. The British vessel would need fifteen minutes to replace it.
“Couldn’t we tie the counterbattery control computer into the primary nose lasers?” a first-cruiser astronaut asked his neighbor in San Jacinto’s CIC. The nose lasers, with their larger optics, could hit targets at longer ranges.
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“No,” his comrade replied. “Ship’s not wired that way. They figured the counterbattery software would only be useful on turreted emitters, which are of course too damn small to help us right now.”
The Chinese switched to the smaller ships, damaging the cruiser Lansing and disabling the frigate O’Kane. Eagle and the other damaged ships fell behind, and the fleet’s formation grew ragged.
“Signal from the flag,” Vikram said. “Main body ships, missiles free. Continue to close. Flanking ships hold fire to coordinate time on target.”
“About time,” Neil heard Davis mutter. The bulk of the fleet fired a hail of missiles; after a short wait, the two flanking squadrons received the order to launch theirs.
Lang said, “Fire Control, weapons free.”
A junior lieutenant flipped the safety cover off the launch button and jabbed at it. San Jacinto shuddered slightly as the missile cells opened and disgorged their contents. Within a few minutes, her primary missile cells were almost empty, and some 98 missiles, a score of them nuclear, were racing to their targets. Her magazine held 100; two had reported malfunctions and obstinately stayed in their tubes. The empty tubes were reloaded with antimissiles.
The launch was timed so the Hans would face incoming missiles from three angles at once. They responded with their own barrages, first firing antimissiles at the inbounds, followed by offensive missiles. Defensive lasers swept the space around them as a second line of defense.
“Vampire! Vampire!” the inevitable call came. “Multiple targets inbound. Twelve minutes closure.”
The chatter in CIC picked up substantially.
“Defensive weapons free to intercept the inbounds,” Captain Thorne said. “Garcia, you can target with the forward cannon, but no faster than we can recharge the batteries, until they get to 800 klicks out. Fire up the counterbatteries at 600. And make sure we’re protecting the herd.”
