Strike Battleship Argent (The Ithis Campaign Book 1)

by Shane Black

  A moment later, Captain Jason Hunter stumbled forward and fell on to the bridge deck plates.

  “Skipper!” Several marines, Yili and Moo ran to their Captain’s aid. Jason quickly regained his feet.

  “Secure for maneuvering. Yili, transfer all power to sublight engines and stand by to engage auxiliary navigation!”

  Everyone on the bridge reacted with well practiced efficiency. In a matter of seconds, the entire boarding party was secured in four-point shock harnesses at stations all around the strike cruiser’s bridge.

  “Hostiles on Deck Two!”

  “Engineer, all engines aft flank!”

  “Aye, sir. Helm answering all engines aft, flank speed!”

  DSS Dunkerque forced the entire Argent boarding party forward in their shock harnesses until the weight and pressure threatened to cut off their ability to breathe, even through their tac suits. The enormous vessel accelerated backwards rapidly.

  “All stop!”

  Yili punched the counter-thrusters and the vessel slowed in space so quickly several of the Argent Marines lost consciousness. Their heads lolled on their shoulders as Hunter drove the ship forward again.

  “All ahead flank! Roll port two hundred seventy degrees!”

  The vessel surged forward as the G-Force alarms began to sound across all decks. Yili felt the mighty ship’s structure begin to groan and complain at the fantastic loads being forced into its many stress points, but Captain Hunter was relentless.

  “Starboard engines to 125%! Port to 75%! Reverse your roll two hundred seventy degrees starboard!”

  The shearing forces caused at least two or three major bulkhead supports to buckle and threw everything aboard that wasn’t secured into the opposite wall at a relative velocity exceeding 100 MPH. It was the equivalent of being locked in a metal box and thrown down a mountain.

  “All back full!”

  “Yili slammed the velocity controls back again. The Dunkerque began cavitating, fighting her own pressure and momentum with the unbelievable forces generated by the auxiliary engines. An out-of-phase sympathetic vibration shook the vessel like an uneven wing in a wind tunnel.

  “All stop!”

  The Dunkerque came to rest in space. Only Zony, Yili and the Captain were still conscious.

  “Now give me a life signs report.”

  Zony studied her instruments for several seconds. “Negative respiration, sir. I don’t think anything organic could have survived that with no safety systems.”

  “Very well, Signals. Can you take the system we just improvised and apply it to the entire ship?”

  “Sir?”

  “It will pull us out of this region of space and put us back in contact with Argent.”

  “I’m going to need a ton of power for that much mass, Skipper.”

  “Engineer?”

  Yili nodded.

  “Outstanding. We need to get this vessel back intact. We’re going to need her.”

  “Need her? For what, sir?” Zony asked.

  “A war against someone who knows our tactics better than we do.”

  Forty-Eight

  “Task Force Perseus, arriving!”

  Bosun’s pipes sounded, and a contingent of Argent Second Marines snapped to attention, their dress crimson and gold uniforms resplendent against the neutral colors of their battleship’s primary flight deck. All wore the sleeve insignia of enlisted personnel from PFC to Strike Sergeant.

  Commander Jayce Hunter appeared at the hatch of her command shuttle. It bore the distinctive raptor of her flag on its side, along with the designation of her flagship: DSS Fury, CX 704. She turned and performed a sharp regulation salute of the ensign, then saluted the Officer of the Deck. She looked quite impressive in her gray and gold uniform and garrison cap. She wore gleaming commander’s insignia on collar and cover.

  “Permission to come aboard.”

  “Very well, ma’am.” The OOD replied. All by the book.

  A marine sergeant barked a command, and the entire marine line brought their weapons up to present arms with a piercing clak. The sergeant saluted as Commander Hunter stepped on to the deep crimson carpet that had been laid down for the ceremony. Her XO, Commander Huggins followed, performing every salute in exactly the same order. One by one the rest of the Task Force’s command staff filed out.

  At the opposite end of the line of marines stood Argent’s senior officers, all wearing their dress blues and covers. The Perseus contingent strode towards them.

  “I forgot to tell you I saw a really nasty bug of some kind crawling up your pant leg,” Captain Hunter whispered, elbowing his signals officer.

  “Stop it,” Zony growled through gritted teeth.

  Commander Hunter stopped before her brother, came to regulation attention and saluted. “Permission to come aboard, sir.”

  “Granted,” Jason replied, returning the salute. “Welcome aboard the Argent. You owe me a bottle, Commander. I got us out of spacedock in one piece and all the way to Gitairn without bumping into anything.”

  “Then we’re even,” Jayce replied. “You’ve owed me a bottle since we rescued the Saint Croix together.”

  “I have?” Hunter said, scrunching up his face. “I don’t remember it quite that way.” Then he grinned like he always did when he was trying to get the best of his sister.

  Jayce rolled her eyes and stepped up to Commander Doverly. “Annora, it’s so nice to see you again.” The two women exchanged salutes.

  “Thank you for that nice card,” Annora replied. “It meant so much to me, and I’m so glad to hear your nephew is doing so well.”

  One by one each Perseus officer greeted their counterparts aboard Argent. Once the formalities had been discharged, Captain Hunter summoned the Quartermaster and his staff to see to the needs of their guests.

  “I’ve scheduled a briefing at Oh Nine Thirty, after which I’d be honored if you and your officers would attend the Captain’s table for dinner.”

  Jayce looked appropriately impressed. “We would be honored. Thank you for the offer.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Huggins added with an appreciative smile.

  “My pleasure,” Jason replied, showing the Task Force officers towards the inboard corridor to the executive guest quarters.

  After the guests had proceeded into the corridor, Jason leaned over and spoke to Zony in a quiet tone. “I suppose I should be nice to my sister at least once before we all get blown out of space, right?”

  Zony slapped his arm.

  Forty-Nine

  One of the many perks of serving aboard a ship of the line was the spacious facilities. While frigates and destroyers had perfectly functional briefing rooms, capital ships had auditoriums by comparison. When the command crews of DSS Fury and DSS Spruance were shown into the Argent’s briefing room, several of them took a moment to gape.

  The center table stretched a good 100 feet and measured 20 feet across at its center. The chairs all had “Argent BBV 740” designations embroidered into their relatively luxurious upholstery. At the far end, an enormous 18 foot by 18 foot reactive crystal display nearly covered the entire wall. It currently showed a “top down” view of Gitairn space centered on Jason Hunter’s ship and the other ten vessels around it, including the recently recovered DSS Dunkerque.

  The Quartermaster’s Mates showed everyone to their assigned seats and brought refreshments with cool, elegant precision. One by one the Argent’s senior officers also arrived and took their seats. Several of the new people were unfamiliar to Jayce. She knew some of her brother’s crew by reputation but with so many it was hard to keep track, especially when she had been assigned to other duties so far away for so long. The murmur of side conversations began to rise in volume.

  Even the lights in the briefing room were designed for maximum comfort and efficiency. Everyone present knew this was a room designed to cater to flag officers, so the luxury appointments were understandable. It all felt a little over the top when they realize
d the man in charge was scarcely older than they were.

  “Ten-hut” the marine sentry said politely. Everyone rose from their seats and stood at attention. Captain Jason Hunter strode in and returned the marine’s salute.

  “Be seated,” he said hurriedly as he closed his folio and dropped it on the polished surface at the head of the table and took his seat. By now everyone was dressed in their duty uniforms. There was only one non-officer at the table, and that was Master Chief Buckmaster who, ironically enough, was at least 12 years older than anyone else in the room and, even more entertainingly, was older than both the senior commanding officers combined. He looked just as regal as the other attendees in his gray duty uniform with gold chevrons at the collar and sleeve. His six service stripes gave him considerable clout despite the fact he technically only outranked the sentry marine. Nobody else in the room had more than two. His captain hadn’t even been born when he got his first assignment.

  “Department heads have provided myself and Commander Doverly with all the most recent data from our findings. As it stands now, we have as many as four targets within strike range,” Hunter began. “Before we leave today, we need the general outlines of a battle plan to confront them and a timeline with an emphasis on sooner rather than later. We may be the only force standing between all-out invasion and the Core.”

  “Sir, is this not what the regulations call a tactical fleet alert? Shouldn’t we be mustering reinforcements?” Commander Teller asked, satisfying the curiosity of just about everyone in the Perseus group aside from their flagship’s skipper.

  “It is my belief that whatever pushed Admiral Hughes over the edge started at Skywatch Fleet. We know everyone in this room, and we know we can count on your integrity. Our enemies at fleet are well hidden. Any reinforcements they send could be as big a threat to us as the enemy we know about.”

  “An enemy we also know already has a four-to-one advantage in tonnage, Captain,” Teller added. “There’s no way we can absorb that kind of punishment–”

  Commander Hunter put her hand on her subordinate’s arm. “All due respect, Captain, we’re going to need to do some re-assignment of billets. Right now we have too many chiefs,” Jayce replied. “We’re also not yet officially a combined fleet.” It was a subtle but effective change of subject. She knew the strategic situation and instinctively knew what was required. The officers in this room needed to know they were on the same side, figuratively and otherwise.

  Jason looked at Annora. “Truth be told, I’ve never combined fleets before. Above my pay grade until now. What procedure do you recommend?”

  “Book says senior field officer shall be posted to the flag, subordinate officers assume commands in rank order as necessary,” Doverly replied. “We’re also going to need a skipper for the Dunkerque.”

  “Master Chief, what is the status of our new toy?” Jason asked.

  “We’ve done a complete check and systems damage report on her. Commander Doverly has the details.”

  “Very well. Hatch?”

  Lieutenant Commander DeMay sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Sir?”

  “As soon as Master Chief Buckmaster has recruited you a crew, I want Dunkerque to join our formation as third slotted capital platform, agreed?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Yeoman, note in the ship’s log Lieutenant Commander Tobias H. DeMay is hereby granted a battlefield commission as a full Commander with all rights and privileges thereto. Hatch, your orders are to assume command of DSS Dunkerque effective immediately.”

  “Very well, sir. Thank you sir.”

  “First things first, Captain.” Jayce heckled.

  “I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it,” Jason said with a dismissive wave down the table at his sister. “What do I do here,” he said to Annora quietly. “Draw a sword and kneel or something?”

  “You get to promote yourself,” she replied.

  “Oh dear,” Zony said, then grinned. It was all she could do to stop herself from sticking her tongue out at the Captain. The Jacks had always had a friendly rivalry regarding rank and achievement. Ribbing each other before and after promotions was just part of the game. Yili was busy tinkering with a tv-remote-size data relay and really couldn’t be bothered with all the ceremonial niceties. Her mind was twelve decks away in the fuel relay she had disassembled all over electrical access tunnel 71-B.

  “Is Fleet Captain enough?” Jason asked, leaning over to keep his voice down.

  “Why not a Commodore?” Moo asked with a delighted grin.

  “Well, as much as we like to fancy ourselves masters of the universe, Colonel, we don’t have the authority to promote someone to a flag rank, even in combat,” Jayce replied. “Fleet Captain is the best we can do, and it will have to be a brevet rank as acting Force Commander until– What’s the regulations, Tom?”

  “We need a two-star or higher to make it permanent,” Huggins replied.

  “Ha! That’s a lot more juice than we’re ever going to allow in this room,” Moo said with a chuckle.

  “Agreed, Colonel, Fleet Captain it is,” Jason replied.

  “What’s the difference?” Zony asked.

  “Well, I get to wear a new sticker or something on my uniform. I get a little extra in my pay envelope, but only if I get shot...”

  “Jason–”

  “Okay, okay. Yeoman, note in the ship’s log, time and date, signed Captain Jason Hunter, king of all he surveys, blah blah. You know the procedure. As of now, oh nine four five on the recommendation of three command officers present as senior officer I am accepting a brevet promotion to Fleet Captain under Skywatch regulation 1612 paragraph B. Further I am posting myself to the flag and shifting our fleet designation immediately.”

  “To what, sir?” Annora asked, still trying to process the fact Jason cited the regulations complete with chapter and verse and got it right.

  “Strike Fleet Perseus.”

  The Perseus escort vessel skippers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but kept their mouths shut. With that order, Fleet Captain Jason Hunter had just deposed his sister and the Task Force Commander they had served under for nearly half a year.

  “Jayce, we should kick you upstairs too,” Hunter said. “Now that we have the square footage we should have the furniture to match.”

  “I appreciate the gesture, sir, but with your permission I’d like to keep things as they are. We’ve shaken the martini enough for one meeting.”

  “Very well, I want you to remain in command of the Task Force and bring Hatch up to speed so he can anchor the other end of your formation.” As Hunter got up and turned to begin referencing the display, at least three of Jayce’s captains looked at her with disbelief. Everything is different, and now he’s ordering us to keep things the way they were!? The look on Commander Hunter’s face was calm and reassuring. It was enough to soothe the outrage reflex.

  “We’re not going to destroy the Sentinel,” he stated flatly.

  Silence.

  “Begging the Fleet Captain’s pardon, sir, but if that thing becomes operational it’s going to decide the battle before we get within weapons range,” Moo said.

  “I’m forced to agree, sir,” Doverly added. “I don’t see how avoiding the Sentinel helps us if the enemy fleet integrates it into their order of battle effectively.”

  “We’re not going to avoid it either,” Jason replied. “We’re going to take Barker’s Asteroid and turn the Sentinel back on the enemy fleet.

  Several of the assembled officers gasped. Master Chief Buckmaster grinned and shook his head. It was exactly what anyone with even average intelligence would have expected from the brash young captain. But by the time the astonishment had faded, the strategic realities became clearer and realization dawned.

  “You’re betting we can turn that asteroid into a battle station before the enemy can stop us?” Zony asked. “But they don’t have our problem. They can fly right through their own mines.”

  “
Not if we reconfigure them to protect us instead,” Hunter replied. “Now that we have the Dunkerque and her transponder, we have a way to slip through their defenses. All we have to do is drop a shock team on that station with the right equipment and we can turn their minefield and big gun to our advantage.”

  “It will take days to reconfigure that many weapons,” Zony said.

  “You’ll have two hours,” Hunter replied. Zony gaped.

  “But–”

  Jason shook his head. “If there’s anyone aboard who can find a way, it’s you, lieutenant.”

  “Are we talking about sending the Dunkerque in there alone?” Jayce asked. “What if she’s confronted before reaching the Sentinel?”

  “She’s going in there cloaked,” Jason replied. “We’re going to lash up two Nemesis corvettes and a heavy paladin as blocker for the cruiser. Their transponders will be configured to match the Dunkerque’s, but their job will be to mask the approach of the cruiser with false SRS readings. It’s the kind of ECCM noise that would normally set off those mines, so I’m betting the asteroid isn’t set up to look for it.”

  “What about power?” Yili asked. The sudden new voice almost startled Moo, who turned to look and saw the engineer was still playing with her little gadget. “A gun like that needs some fat capacitance and a burst reactor setup. That kind of thing takes months to build. The cooling alone would require a row of heatsinks half a mile long each the size of this room.”

  “We have two portable emergency planetside fusion units,” Hunter replied. “I’m betting our adversaries brought their own capacitors. It’s the only way they could have gotten that first shot off.”

  “We’re going to fly 1700-ton reactors down to that rock?” Moo asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Wouldn’t they already need some kind of power?” Doverly asked.

  “They probably charged the capacitors before they were installed in case of an emergency,” Jayce said. “In fact, the Dunkerque probably provided the power. The Pershing class Strike Cruiser has transmission equipment for all its plants. Fury and Dunkerque are the same class, although your ship is a little newer. If they had a couple of days to prepare, they could have probably stored just enough for one good shot.”