“Yes, sir,” Laurent said, turning quickly and then firing off a rapid series of orders.
Once we had our Battleship back, we had firepower and options. Until then we were heavily outmatched. Not that one Battleship was going to miraculously change things, but…
Glancing at the screen I saw that Preceptor and Block’s attempts to escape had met with no success. They were still powered up and firing but they hadn’t got far. Sometime after breaking their formation, the droids had finished off the two Battleships’ engines and they, too, were now down to relying solely on thrusters.
I snorted; their defiance of orders and attempts to strike out on their own had ended in resounding failure, and now they weren’t even within mutual support range of the other drifting Battleships. It was literally the worst of both worlds.
I just hoped my own defiance of orders wouldn’t end as poorly.
“The Harmony Destroyers have broken off and are going after out-of-formation stragglers,” reported Laurent.
“Best speed toward the Forge, Captain,” I repeated.
“We’re on it, Admiral,” the Flag Captain nodded.
Staring back at the screen, I shook my head—it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I’d been passed over for command by a seasoned professional, with a fleet the size of which put everything I’d seen up to this point to shame, and now our Fleet was scattered, shattered, and on the run for its very life. The doorway to Elysium had been left wide open.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I repeated silently. When I’d had my chance to make a stink, I had graciously stepped aside for the professionals. Now look where that judgment had gotten us, I chided myself coldly.
I had to wonder if I shouldn’t have stood on privilege and made the biggest stink I could have to secure Fleet command. Once again, I’d trusted the professionals to get it right and, once again, everything had fallen apart.
I stared grimly at the main screen, knowing that somehow—in a very real way, and without a trace of self-pity—this was all my fault.
Chapter 27: The Droid Deception
“Admiral, the reinforcements that arrived in system shortly after the Parliamentary Power group is refusing orders from the Grand Flag and are proceeding toward the Jovian, sir,” said Lieutenant Steiner.
I nodded. “What are they saying, Lieutenant?” I questioned absently, most of my attention focused on the distance between us and the Forge and the distance between us and the nearest enemy units.
“Nothing, sir,” replied the Lieutenant.
I stopped my contemplation to focus on Steiner. “What? Nothing at all?” I asked curiously.
“Communications silence, Admiral Montagne,” she avowed.
I ran a hand over my face and then rubbed my chin. It had been a long day already, and it was only getting longer.
“Monitor them, Comm.; get with Sensors and have them put an operator on monitoring the reinforcements,” I instructed.
“Yes, Admiral,” she replied eagerly and turned back to her business.
I heaved a sigh as I turned back to the screen and then a thought popped into my head and I turned back to her.
“Oh, and while you’re at it, why don’t you drop them a line and see if they’ll talk to us? It would be nice to be able to coordinate our efforts, even if they’re ignoring the Grand Admiral,” I added. I couldn’t entirely blame the reinforcements for not wanting to join in on the carnage that was a massed boarding action of the eight now-drifting Battleships—the beating heart of the fleet—but even so that was a lot of firepower. Four Battleships and two Heavy Cruisers were enough to potentially turn the tide of this battle if used properly, and I aimed to see that if at all possible they were used properly.
“A Harmony Cruiser and two Destroyer Squadrons have angled for an intercept course with the new arrivals before they reach the forge,” reported Tactical.
“Anything they need to worry about?” I asked perfunctorily. I didn’t see anything for a relief fleet that size to be worried about, but the Droids had surprised me before.
“No sir, Admiral. They should be able to handle anything that size a force can throw out,” replied Tactical.
“Good, then we can continue on course for the Forge,” I said evenly. “What’s our rendezvous time with the Power and Commodore Druid’s group?”
“The Commodore will reach the Jovian with his battle group an hour and ten minutes before we do, at our current course and speed,” reported Shepherd our Navigator.
I smiled; the Commodore should arrive in plenty of time to begin the first part of the plan for defense of the Jovian system.
“What’s the status of those reinforcements, Steiner?” I asked turning back to the Communication Section.
“Still no response, Admiral,” she said, her brows furrowing.
“Keep trying,” I said hiding a scowl. Everything would be a lot easier if—
“We need to join forces with those Battleships, sir,” Laurent said, breaking into my train of thought.
“Agreed, Captain,” I said testily.
“With that many ships of the line, we could still save this system,” he added.
“I have a plan,” I said sharply, before adding, “however, those extra ships would certainly be a help.”
“Admiral,” exclaimed a Sensor Operator jumping out of his seat, “the Droid Mothership have just split forces. Half of them have just set course for the Forge at top speed. That’s fifteen Mothership/Cruisers on the way to our position.”
“Conformity never splits its forces like that,” I muttered.
Captain Laurent and I shared a look and afterward the Captain shook his head. I could tell he wanted to say something but wasn’t willing to call me out about the hopelessness of our position in front of the crew…at least, not yet.
“Droid Squadrons are on fast approach with the Fleet Reinforcements,” reported the Sensor Officer sounding excited.
“Steady as she goes, Sensors,” I replied, not wanting to get hopes up too high on the bridge, all too often I myself had been in the bigger more powerful ships and yet found myself totally unable to catch the smaller fleeter Corvettes and Destroyers unless they wanted—or unless I could force them—to come to battle.
“I’m picking up comm. chatter between the Harmony Squadrons and the new Human Battleships,” Steiner reported.
“Do we know what they’re saying?” I demanded.
“Can’t break the encryption yet, sir,” Steiner said, looking worried.
“Fleet interpenetration in five minutes,” reported Tactical.
The former com-tech’s frown deepened.
“What is it, Lisa?” I asked, ignoring the Tactical Officer in favor of the Comm. Lieutenant.
Looking very uneasy and put on the spot, Lisa Steiner bit her lip. “Well, sir…I mean, Admiral. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re using the same encryption…and the computer agrees,” she screwed up her courage and finally said.
I blinked twice, the implications rocking my world.
“Good work. Carry on, Lieutenant,” I said numbly, slowly turning back toward the screen. I prayed she was wrong while furiously trying to come up with a counter. My body felt far away, but my head was surprisingly hot as I tried to sort through the ways this could change my plans—the way it could change everything. I’d planned for pursuit by the Motherships and, in the Jovian system around the Forge, I’d felt confident that our speed would avail us—
“The same encryption? That’s outrageous, Lieutenant!” exclaimed Laurent, the news taking hold of him with much more strident results than myself. “Accusing a human force of-”
“That’s enough, Captain,” I said sharply, returning to myself with a lurch, “I’d much rather someone be wrong than they hide information for fear of a poor reaction.”
“Admiral Montagne, you can’t mean that we—” Laurent pressed.
“If someone is repeatedly wrong or openly fear-mongering then it’s time to
find someone else but, Captain,” I said, talking right over him. “Lieutenant Steiner has been nothing but successful to this point in the employ of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet.”
“The Droids and the relief force have just interpenetrated!” exclaimed Tactical.
Excitement turned to horror around the bridge as Lieutenant Steiner’s speculation turned into cold hard reality: the Droid Cruiser and Destroyers slotted into formation with the human-built warships with mechanical precision.
“Blast,” swore First Officer Eastwood.
“The Demon’s taken the Field against us,” Laurent said, shaking his head like a man reeling from one too many punches in quick succession.
“Control yourself, man,” I hissed at him.
“Everything that can go wrong has done so, Admiral,” Captain Laurent said, looking at me, “Murphy’s turned his back on us, sir. I don’t see what we can do but concede the system and retreat. We just don’t have the numbers.”
Before I knew it, I was out of my chair and the back of my hand cracked against the Captain’s face. The sound of it echoed throughout the bridge, which grew so silent I could have heard a pin drop as I felt all eyes focused on us.
“Murphy’s turned his back, Captain?” I spat his rank out like a vile curse. “Then he’s never gone up against a Montagne before—because I haven’t even begun to fight!” First there was shock, and then rage flashed across the Flag Captain’s face but I ignored him and turned to face the rest of the bridge. I’d had more than enough superstitious defeatism for one battle; if he wanted to make something of my actions, he could do so after the battle—or he’d ride out the rest of this fight in the brig!
“People, once again the ‘professionals,’ so-called, have failed and it’s up to the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet to save them,” I swept the bridge with a wrath-filled gaze, letting each and every one of them know that I was just getting started. “We may win or we may die—or maybe even both—and Murphy knows you’ve done more than enough of both alongside me. However let me make one thing perfectly clear: whether they’re Droids, human traitors, or the AI’s themselves returned to life to plague us, they will shake and they will shudder when they recall the Battle for Elysium and remember the names Admiral Montagne and his Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet!”
Heads started nodding and several crewmembers cheered less than ecstatically, while most of them still looked worried. But now, instead of fear and the desire to retreat, I could slowly see the resolve to stand up and make a real accounting of ourselves materialize on my crew’s visages.
“Never give up; never surrender—and we will certainly not be leaving the Elysium system so long as one human traitor runs free and our warships are still able to fight!” I roared.
Now I could feel the response I’d been desiring build and in response and total defiance of the odds against us, the bridge shouted its support.
“We’re with you, Admiral!” shouted a man from Tactical.
“We’ll send those mechanicals straight to the scrap heap for you, sir!” bellowed a sensor operator.
“Best speed for the Forge, Mr. DuPont,” I ordered.
Even though that’s already where we were going, the Helmsman replied, “Yes, sir!”
And just like that, I could feel everyone on the bridge go from planning for how we were going to flee, to planning how we were going to win.
Chapter 28: Spalding prepares the Penetrator
He was the very model of an old outdated space engineer…with fire in his belly
Wiping a tear from the corner of his single remaining, ‘good’ eye—not to be confused with that infernal gadget the quack had installed in the other side of his head, which was merely called an eye—the former Chief Engineer cut off the feed from the bridge.
One of the many advantages of working in the former Intelligence half deck and using it as a workshop was access to the monitoring systems emplaced by a paranoid, Imperial Intelligence Service, throughout the ship. Of course, most of the time he didn’t have the time or inclination to spend his time sitting around watching data feeds, so he generally limited his watchful eye to the Engineering Department. But, like every other officer or crewman, he had more than a passing interest as what was going on up on the bridge during a battle and now that he had no permanent assignment and the chance to monitor things he did.
“The lad’s done us proud,” the old Engineer said, reaching over to pat the structural support beside him only to stop at the last moment and clench his fist instead. This isn’t my ship, he reminded himself just in time. “Why there’s barely any sign of rot to this old brain, at all. Now, normally you give them two years at flag rank and it’s nothing but a rapid decline, but the little Admiral is still going strong.”
He absently decided that it was probably in no small part due to his own efforts, and the old engineer smiled at that particular thought. Then his thoughts turned morose and he turned back to the Penetrator-class lander in his workshop.
“A battle’s goin’ on, and old Spalding’s forgotten,” he griped, grabbing an auto-wrench and a spanner out of his tool-belt and marching over to the lander. “No one has time anymore for an old Engineer past his prime, what with that young buck down there in Engineering—him and his rapid-firing, newfangled, plasma cannons!”
Working rapidly, he started closing up the port side power relay and then ran a check on the amped-up grav-plate system he’d finally settled on installing.
“Oh, aye, out of sight out of mind,” he growled, ire rising as he belly ached. “Why, if I let them then probably the next time they thought about old Spalding it’d all be, ‘oh, the poor old boy,’ and, ‘he just can’t hack it anymore.’ Then, next thing you know it’s off to the retirement home and the Clover would still be laid up in irons until after I gasped my last! That’s why I don’t just say ‘no.’ I say ‘watch out; Terrance P. Spalding is still here, and he’s forgotten more than that young sprout has ever dreamed of learning and what’s more I’m going to prove it’!”
Stomping over to the other side of the lander, he closed up the reinforced power relay located there and then ran around to the back and hooked up the service hoses. After programming the computer to fill up her primary fuel tanks—as well as the other, ‘special,’ tanks he’d added to her—he clomped on over to the communications console built into the wall and punched in a com-code.
“Commander Spalding, there is a battle on; I fear I do not have time to help haul heavy objects in your wizard’s laboratory,” Persus said, looking at him curiously. “This is a time to use war machines, not make them.”
“Persus! What are you blathering about man?” he shouted as soon as the other man appeared on the other side of the screen, not even bothering to correct the man about him being an engineer who used a workshop and not a wizard in some kind of chemistry laboratory, “I don’t have time for chit chat. I need a crew of head-bashers eager to sign up for an unauthorized mission on an untested lander—for what’ll probably be a one-way suicide trip, ‘less we’re more than a touch lucky. You happen to know of any lads who’d be interested, or should I call down to Engineering and see if I have any takers?”
Persus’ mouth opened and closed in brief confusion. “I cannot abandon my duty and charge off on a quest for personal glory; I am the bodyguard of Hold Mistress Akantha. I have responsibilities,” he said in a rising voice, looking furious.
“Bah!” Spalding scowled at the other man. “If ye can’t slip yer leash, best you stay right where you are and just send me a few likely lads who are still hungry for action; I won’t hold it against ya…much!” he grumped.
Persus started to turn red in the face. “How many do you need?” he rasped.
“You’ve seen how large the hold of the Jelly Bolt is,” the old engineer replied, referring to the new name of his Penetrator-class lander. “Do I have to do everything ‘round here?” he finished with a martyred sigh.
“You will have your volunteers,” Persus said
, cutting the connection with a savage gesture.
Spalding chuckled at the way he’d gotten Persus’ goat. Those Tracto-ans were always good for a rise; he just couldn’t understand the way everyone walked so softly around them. Sure, they were good scrappers but back in his day a man didn’t take nothing from no one—although he sure forked it out as fast as he could! It was a shame the way things had changed so much in the service…
Shaking his head, he turned back to his little lander. Now all he had to do was finish integrating the systems so the first time he took the Penetrator to full stop next to the hull of an enemy ship, everyone didn’t turn into little splatters of human goo against the bulkheads.
Whistling under his breath, he started running a system’s check.
Chapter 29: The Commodore
“The rest of the Fleet is approaching the Jovian System, Commodore. Do you want us to send a communication or head out to meet them?” asked Druid’s Executive Officer.
“No,” the Commodore said a touch darkly, “I’m sure the Admiral will let us know when he needs us. Until then continue to deploy the jammer network as instructed; everything needs to be ready when the Droid Fleet arrives.”
“Aye, Commodore,” replied the Officer. He then hesitated, “We could release the rest of the squadron and send them to meet the rest of our Fleet.”
“The network will go up faster with the smaller warships assisting us. And besides, like I said: the Admiral will call when he feels the need,” Druid said with a wintery smile.
“As you say, sir,” the First Officer said with a salute.
“In the meantime make sure the Marines and our newest crewmembers are fully outfitted and kept in the loop,” the Commodore instructed.
After his XO had taken a step back, Druid stared at the multiple moons and asteroids that made up the area surrounding the Forge.
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