Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)

by Luke Sky Wachter

The image of Admiral Manning appeared on the screen and, while I wouldn’t quite classify his expression as an outright glare, he definitely looked like a man who’d been long-suffering and had just about reached his breaking point—‘break’ being the operative word, as the Grand Admiral did indeed look ready to break something.

  So, instead of opening my mouth and saying something that might get me in trouble, I instead offered a lazy salute and then straightened in my chair. I did my best to straddle the line between coming to attention and just improving my body posture.

  The Grand Admiral’s lip curled. “Just what are you playing at, Montagne?” the Grand Admiral barked.

  “Pardon?” I asked calmly, as if I hadn’t a concern in the world.

  “No more games, Confederation Admiral,” he barked, leaning forward in his chair. “We know the small flotilla which just arrived is comprised of Confederation warships—ships that only arrived after you sent your Corvette, Swift Drake, to retrieve them. Clearly they were intended to arrive in Elysium only after the Droid Fleet arrived. Don’t try to play me for a fool when your ‘last minute’ reinforcements show up with a Battleship in tow!”

  “The Battleship is mine, as are the rest of the flotilla,” I admitted without missing a beat. “I decided they would be more use here than defending our Star Bases and other vital interests in Sector 25.

  “Trying to play on how you’re stripping yourself to the bone to help us only goes so far,” Manning growled. “If you had a Battleship, why not let us know? More importantly, why hide it until after the battle starts when you KNOW we could have used her on the line?! A suspicious sort like myself might just start to think you had a plan that involved something other than simply helping defend our star system!”

  I blinked at this particularly paranoid diversion and then deliberately shrugged. “I’m not going to get into the politics of this whole thing, except to say that I wasn’t sure whether or not the Parliamentary Power would arrive in time to make the battle. She’d taken a lot of damage in our last battle for Tracto and it wasn’t at all clear if she could be repaired sufficiently to do a credible job here. Add to that the way the inner circle of the Grand Fleet have made it clear that Officers without battleships need not apply and, to be frank, I was concerned that saying I had a battleship—one that might, or might not, arrive in time to do any good—would do more to make me a laughing stock at best, or appear hopelessly pathetic at worst,” I almost smiled at this last part. Sometimes I amaze myself with things that could almost be true. “So, no, I did not tell you about my battleship. Nor did I want to risk the Power, by sending constant patrols to the rendezvous point which might be picked up by silent running droid warships scouting the perimeter of Elysium. But now that the droids are here, there was no longer any point in holding them back, if in fact they had even arrived on time.”

  During my lengthy diatribe, the Grand Admiral’s face had darkened.

  “I don’t like smooth talkers—or worse, people who think they’re smooth talkers but actually aren’t—in my Battle Fleet, Mr. Montagne,” the Grand Admiral growled warningly.

  “Well then, Mr. Manning, I guess you have to ask yourself which you want more: a Battleship, or subordinates who never surprise you with extra combat power?” I said, striving for dispassionate and uncaring but more likely coming off as arrogant and glib.

  I could see the flush when I turned his lack of respect for my rank right back around on him, but ultimately I had to ask myself: what was he going to do? Would he refuse my help and throw away a perfectly good battleship in a moment of pike? Or weaken his fleet in the face of the enemy in order to ‘teach me a lesson?’ No, none of that was very likely to happen for the simple reason that, without a sure sign that I was moving against his home world, he had a lot more to lose than he had to gain by turning on me—since, in point of fact, I intended to help his home world.

  “Play your games then, Montagne,” Manning said, a warning glint in his eye, “and we’ll all see what it profits you.”

  I nodded as the screen cut out.

  “Well, that could have gone better,” Laurent commented in a low voice.

  “I dare say, that almost sounded like a threat, Captain,” I replied, still looking at the screen, then I splayed my hands, “if I didn’t know better,” I finished easily.

  “I’m glad one of us knows better, because I sure don’t,” Laurent muttered.

  I bit back a dark laugh and shook my head instead. It was time to see to the formation of our ships.

  “The Grand Flag signals us to adjust our position rotated down 20 degrees relative to the main body,” reported Lieutenant Steiner.

  Laurent glanced at me and I nodded.

  Several minutes passed as the ship took up its new position.

  “Point emergence!” called out the Sensor Warrant.

  “Report as soon as you have the numbers and general classification, Sensors,” ordered the Flag Captain.

  “I have one dozen human-built warships entering the system now,” reported the Sensor Officer. “I’m reading…four battleships, two large cruisers, and half a dozen lighter warships we have yet to fully classify.”

  “Good work, and keep on it sensors,” I said starting to feel cautiously optimistic. Counting the Parliamentary Power and the new arrivals, we’d just more than doubled the number of battleships in Elysium—things were finally starting to look our way!

  Or so I hoped. It did seem rather suspicious that they arrived only after the main fleets were about to engage…making me a bit more sympathetic to Manning’s accusations towards myself and the MSP. On the other hand, it wouldn’t entirely surprise me if one or two of the other worlds decided to pull the same trick I did and husband their firepower for a decisive blow later on.

  “Admiral, we’re receiving a message from the Grand Flag,” reported Steiner, “they want to know if the new arrivals are with us and, from the tone and tenor of the query from his staff, Admiral Manning sounds rather hot.”

  “Assure the Grand Admiral that we have nothing to do with the new arrivals, and honestly have no idea whose banner they’re sailing under,” I said and waved dismissively; we were on the verge of a major fleet action and I didn’t have much further time for these sorts of things.

  “Aye, aye, sir,” exclaimed Steiner.

  “Droid Harmony Fleet is moving into attack positions ahead of the Droid Conformity Fleet,” reported the ship’s Tactical Officer uneasily.

  “Concerns, Tactical?” I said, catching a hint of something in that officer’s voice.

  “It’s nothing affirmative, Admiral,” the ship’s Tactical Officer hesitated, then he appeared more assertive, “however, the entire Harmony Fleet is in formation to attack us.”

  “That is generally what happens when droids and humans meet,” I smirked.

  “Of course, sir,” the Tactical Officer smiled perfunctorily, “however, they have nothing set aside as a rear guard. Now, this isn’t necessarily anything in and of itself, as the Harmony warships are much faster than the Conformity hulls…but it does make me a little uneasy.”

  I felt a chill. Like the Tactical Officer said, there was no need to guard against the slower less maneuverable ships of the Conformity Fleet. However a lack of some kind of visible defense against the massive swarm following along behind them, combined with the Harmony Tribe’s well-noted tactical acumen, didn’t help the Grand Admiral’s hope of the Droid Tribes falling each upon the other just as furiously as they would with our own human style fleet.

  “Keep your eye on it, Lieutenant,” I instructed, “I’m not sure what we can do with this information other than to keep our eyes open, but I want to be notified at the first sign of anything and I mean anything you think needs my attention.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” the Officer said and then paused his voice rising an octave, “lead elements of the Harmony Fleet are entering attack range now, sir!”

  “The Flag is requesting we focus all firepower on the s
tarboard, six ship Destroyer element,” Steiner called out.

  I suppressed a kneejerk rejection of the order and took myself firmly to task even as I nodded, “Relay firing coordinates to tactical. And Tactical,” I turned to the Tactical Officer, “inform Gunnery that as soon as they have the target designations, they are to fire at will.”

  “Aye, sir!” exclaimed that Officer and, beside him, First Officer Eastwood immediately began to relay this information down the Chief Gunner.

  “Firing!” barked the First Officer moments later.

  With eager eyes, I watched as thirty six Harmony Destroyers, divided into six squadrons, and their accompanying three Cruiser element began to shift position in an elaborately choreographed dance intended to reduce the time interval that any one Droid ship was a target of the MDL’s Grand Fleet.

  At first it was just the lighter units of the Grand Fleet, such as our own ships, that were firing upon the Droid warships. Then, with a slow majesty all their own, the eight battleships that formed the core of the MDL Fleet pivoted bringing the full hammer that was humanity’s broadside to bear.

  “The Grand Fleet is acquiring target lock!” Tactical said, the desire for righteous retribution for all worlds dead, and millions lost, made manifest in those few words.

  Turbo-laser fire erupted from the Battleship squadrons with a ferocity that almost took my breath away. The lines of fire represented by the holo-projector briefly threatened to clutter the main screen, so great was the display of coordinated firepower.

  “How many did they get?!” I demanded, lunging forward in my seat just as sensors started to reflect droid movement.

  “Every ship in the Harmony Fleet just scattered!! I’m reading one Destroyer destroyed and two more damaged by glancing blows,” Tactical said, consternation in his voice.

  “They must have scattered at the same time as the Fleet Battleships fired,” Laurent said.

  “That’s an impossible maneuver,” First Officer Eastwood said flatly.

  I nodded as if in agreement. “It’s almost as if the enemy acted with machine-like precision,” I mocked.

  The First Officer flushed and the Flag Captain shot me a look. I knew it was time to focus back on the fight and not picking on my outraged under-officers over their exclamations of outraged dismay.

  “The Droids are regaining formation and skirting around the extreme range of the Battleships. It looks like they’re trying to avoid contact with the heavies,” Tactical reported as the first Droid Fleet pulled hard down and under the center of the Grand Fleet.

  On the screen, I could see one battleship start to pull out of formation, its engines burning hard. Its commander clearly had every intention of launching a pursuit of the fleeing Destroyers—even though it clearly had no chance of success.

  “What ship is that?” I barked, pointing at the rogue battleship.

  “That’s the Battleship Jiāozhàn of the Li Dong Defense Fleet, Master and Commander of record…Admiral Block, sir,” reported Sensors a second before Tactical, a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice at having beaten out his rival as he called out the identification.

  “Block,” I made the word a curse.

  Lieutenant Steiner held a hand up to her ear. “The Grand Admiral is ordering the Jiāozhàn back into formation. Block is protesting,” the Communications Officer reported, struggling to accurately pronounce the Battleship’s name and still holding a finger to her ear-bud.

  Seconds later, the Jiāozhàn began to move back into position within the formation, and tensions on the bridge of the Phoenix started to ease.

  “I wouldn’t want his job,” I said with a shake of my head, watching the screen as lighter vessels were cut loose in squadron strength to deal with the rampaging enemy Destroyers, along with their trio of Cruisers.

  “That’s a lie,” Laurent muttered.

  I whipped my head around and glared at him while the MDL Squadrons of light warships burned hard to catch the Harmony Destroyers.

  “What did you say?” I said coldly.

  “I know you too well, sir,” Laurent smiled crookedly, “for all your protestations, you’d take the job of Grand Admiral in a heartbeat. Don’t try to deny it.”

  I opened my mouth to hotly deny it and then scowled thunderously. “Ships from two dozen worlds, a chain of command where every ship driver wants to offer you advice, and a rebellious admiral—not to mention the man has to have ten times the experience I do—and you think I want that job?” I argued, trying to use logic to counterattack and obfuscate the truth.

  “Rebellious Admirals, plural,” Laurent said, shooting me a look and then chuckled. “And yes, you’d be happily hating every minute of it if they’d put you in charge. It’s part of what makes you so effective.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere,” I grumbled mutinously. I started to chide him about the ‘Admirals, plural’ comment when a squadron of MDL light warships was caught in a pincer move between three Harmony Destroyer Squadrons, where they were shot full of holes.

  “The Demon Murphy is out in force today,” I muttered as a Corvette exploded, two more went spinning off out of control, and a pair of Destroyers lost power and started to drift. If this first clash was any indication of how the battle would progress, it wasn’t a good omen for the rest of the Fleet.

  Captain Laurent made an aversion sign, apparently coming to the same conclusion.

  “The Harmony Destroyers continue to get the better of the engagements,” reported Tactical, “they are faster and more maneuverable than a human warship of equivalent size—most likely because droid crews can take higher gravity, thus using less power for grav-plates than a human crew of comparable size—but we won’t know for sure until after the battle when we can examine some of the wreckage.”

  If we survive to examine their wreckage, and don’t die—or find ourselves in flight—with our wreckage left behind for them to examine, I silently added. But behind all of that endgame concern was my more immediate worry: what we were going to do with the Harmony Droid Fleet right now?

  “A pair of Cruiser squadrons are attempting to take advantage of the Droid’s rapid down turn under the fleet and are moving to intercept!” called out the Tactical Officer.

  For the better part of a minute, we watched as the MDL Cruisers cut the corner on a Destroyer squadron. They were just about to return the favor for what the droids had done to that Grand Fleet’s light warships squadron when the leading edge of the Fleet of Conformity Droid warships entered attack range.

  “Reading 59 Droid Motherships in five rows of 10 and one row of 9 in the rear of the droid formation with over 5000 gunboats out in front. The Mothership Cruisers are headed straight towards the Battleship Squadrons, but those boats are going to get there first and soften them up,” said the Tactical Officer.

  “Still no sign that the Harmony Fleet is going to turn around and attack the Conformity?” I asked tightly, looking at the main screen there was no way we were going to avoid the sprawling conflict for much longer.

  I ignored a few muted cheers as the Grand Fleet Cruiser Squadron hammered several Harmony Destroyers, causing the Droid Squadron to break up to avoid being annihilated.

  “The Harmony Fleet has broken up into two squadrons of hunter killer packs and are criss-crossing the outsides of the Grand Fleet, attacking smaller warships and running from cruiser-sized threats. I estimate that a pair of Harmony squadrons, with Mothership support, should arrive in our area shortly after the gunboats,” reported the Tactical Officer.

  My eyes snapped back to the screen, searching for and finding the aforementioned gunboats. “It looks like we’re going to have some customers very soon,” I commented.

  “New orders from the Grand Flag,” Steiner reported quickly, “all units cruiser-sized and smaller are instructed to advance towards the Droid Fleet and screen the flag from the gunboat swarm.”

  I looked at the Harmony Squadrons, and the swarm of around 100 gunboats approaching our position, an
d squeezed the arms of my chair. I didn’t like the odds against what my MSP Fleet was facing already—never mind the odds of advancing into the enemy!

  “A Cruiser and twelve Destroyers, supported by a hundred gunboats…against our two Cruisers, one Destroyer and nine Corvettes,” Laurent observed, glancing between me and the screen portraying the evolving battle.

  “Twelve against thirteen,” I said, flipping a wrist, “we’ve dealt with worse odds.”

  “The tonnages, though—” my Flag Captain started.

  “They have bigger ships and more of them. Yes, I know,” I said flatly, in a tone that warned him to stop this line of thought, “however, we have two Cruisers to their one.”

  “We’ve seen just how effective their Destroyers can be when working together. How much more deadly do you imagine a Cruiser to be?” Laurent continued.

  “Gunnery is to fire on targets of opportunity as they bear; let’s start thinning out those boats,” I ordered, ignoring the Captain as I kept my eyes pinned to the screen, watching the interplay of enemy and allied movements.

  “Admiral,” Laurent said quietly.

  “Enough, Captain,” I said just as quietly but much more forcefully.

  “Aye aye, sir,” he said, fading back and to the side.

  “Helm, turn five degrees away from the Flag and increase acceleration to full military power,” I instructed.

  “Away five degrees and full military power, yes sir!” Helmsman DuPont acknowledged eagerly.

  “Away from the Fleet by only five degrees, sir?” Laurent said, his words a protest even as the ship shuddered underneath us.

  “Lieutenant Steiner, relay the order to the rest of our fleet,” I said, continuing to ignore my Flag Captain. “And then transmit to the squadron of MDL Cruisers that were chasing that Harmony Destroyer Squadron. Advise them that if the Harmony Squadrons aiming for us adjust course to follow our movement away, the Cruisers have a chance at an up the kilt attack. The Droids will either have to go through us and then engage the rest of the Grand Fleet or turn away and miss the thrust by the main body of the Conformity Fleet—no more of this picking low-hanging fruit off the edges while we’re otherwise engaged.”