Legacy Fleet: Avenger (Kindle Worlds) (The First Swarm War Book 2)

by Chris Pourteau

  “Hey-hey! Hey-hey!” gloried Mustang. “One down and only four to—”

  “Contact! Enemy fighters redeploying from Wellington,” broke in Ballbreaker. “And the rest of those carriers, too.”

  Leaving the crippled Endeavour hovering in a cloud of its own leaking gases, the Swarm capital ships were turning, two by two, back toward the attacking IDF ships. Independence and Invincible, their momentum from Calais carrying them forward, were about to be surrounded by twice their number.

  “I think they know we’re here,” said C-O.

  “I think you’re right,” said Laz. Watch your ass, Addie. “Mustang, engage those enemy fighters. Keep them out of the mix.”

  “Kill the bastards!” shouted Ballbreaker.

  “What about the plan?” asked Mustang.

  “The plan was a surprise attack,” Laz replied. “We surprised ’em. Time for a new plan.”

  “Multiple bogies coming in!” called C-O.

  Wave after wave of Swarm fighters spiraled their way. Space was so thick with them they seemed to outnumber the stars.

  “Squadron leaders, engage at will,” said Laz. His cheek hurt, and he realized he was grinding his teeth. Instead of releasing his jaw, he throttled forward, lining up the nearest enemy in his gunsights.

  “You heard the pirate,” said Mustang. “Let’s score some booty.”

  Bridge, ISS Invincible

  “Captain, we’re headed straight for the middle of them,” said Lieutenant Jameson at the helm. “Should I reverse engines?”

  “Negative, Lieutenant. In fact, maintain flank speed.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “You heard me. Zoe, we’re ahead of the Indy, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very well,” she said, a plan unfolding in her mind. “Weapons Officer, keep those mag-rail teams on both sides of the ship aiming at pinpoint targets on the two Swarm vessels as we pass between them. And send those targeting coordinates to the Indy.” They’d move straight forward, one ship behind the other, like a battle line of ships from the Age of Sail. Maximize their firepower and split the enemy force in two.

  “You want us to attack two carriers at the same time?” asked Weapons Officer Mike Sandoval with disbelief.

  “Did you people finally decide to mutiny after all?”

  Sandoval’s eyes widened. “No ma’am, I just—”

  “Then follow my orders! Lieutenant, send this to the Indy: I’ll open the door, you light the fire.”

  “Aye, Captain,” acknowledged Nichols, turning back to her console.

  “Captain, we’re charging right between four enemy carriers,” said Blake under his breath. “Maybe a more prudent—”

  “The time for prudence is past, XO,” replied Halsey. On the viewscreen, she could see more fires burning across the hull of Endeavour than she could count. The warship drifted in space, random detonations igniting new fires along her scarred length. “Now it’s do or die.”

  “Independence acknowledges, Captain,” reported Nichols.

  “Very well. Sandoval, report.”

  “Guns are glowing hot but firing, ma’am,” he said, his voice fearful but proud as they flew into the heart of the enemy kill zone.

  Invincible lurched, its Bridge lights flickering momentarily.

  “Damage Control reports we’re taking heavy fire from both sides, Captain,” said Nichols. The red-alert klaxons began to howl.

  Halsey ignored her. “Pinpoint accuracy, Weapons,” she ordered, almost too quietly to hear over the red alert. It had sounded more like a prayer. Then, a little louder: “Helm, try to avoid crashing into Endeavour, if you would.”

  “We’ve made it through the gauntlet, ma’am!” Jameson shouted.

  “Very well, Helm. Please contain your surprise. Zoe?”

  “Independence is following in our wake, Captain. Their lasers are exploiting the holes we opened up!”

  “And they say the military can’t even organize a square dance,” Halsey said with a lopsided grin.

  “Captain, our fighters are taking heavy losses. They’re still heavily outnumbered by the—”

  “I see it, Lieutenant.” As the helmsman swung them hard to starboard to avoid ramming Endeavour, the fighter battle came into view. Tiny metal fireflies arced and dance and twisted around one another. Addison wondered where Laz was in all that confusion … if he were even still alive at all. “Take us into that cloud,” she said to Jameson. “Weapons, point defenses are your priority now. Let’s see if we can help those flyboys.”

  “Are we abandoning Independence?” asked Blake.

  “Of course not, XO,” Halsey replied. “But we’ve got to turn around somewhere.”

  Swarm fireflies began winking out as Invincible’s forward batteries engaged.

  They took another hard hit astern. The artificial gravity on the Bridge failed briefly, then stabilized. The overhead lights went black, and Blake nearly fell from his chair. Several bridge officers grunted as their ribs impacted consoles. A deep, rumbling vibration rattled the deckplates, then faded as the crew righted itself. The lights returned.

  “Report, Comms.”

  “Direct hit to our starboard engines. They’re cutting right through our shields! Some of the sections in Engineering are self-sealing. Crews are trapped and—”

  “Thank you.” Halsey closed her eyes briefly. Rescue would have to wait. “Helm, status?”

  Another heavy fist smashed into Invincible. This time the Bridge lights stayed off.

  “Get those emergency lights stabilized,” barked Halsey. “Helm, status!”

  “Momentum is carrying us through the fighter cloud, but our maneuvering is severely restricted, Captain,” Jameson called over the noise.

  “Our combined attack destroyed a third carrier, ma’am,” reported Proctor, staring at her readouts. “Independence is in better shape and turning faster.” She looked up at Halsey. “Now it’s three to three.”

  Several deadly green energy beams slammed into their hull again. More like three to one and a half, thought Addison, staring at Endeavour’s drifting hulk. There but by the grace of God go—

  “Captain, Independence is maneuvering away from us to avoid Endeavour and that dogpile of fighters,” continued Proctor. “Now all three remaining Swarm carriers are between us.”

  Halsey traded a look with Blake. So, now theirs was the force divided. But not for long.

  “Keep us turning, Helm,” she said. “We have to get back on offense.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” came Jameson’s earnest reply.

  Invincible shuddered again. The Swarm ships were slicing into her weakened aft quarter, and with the engines already damaged, there was little they could do to avoid it.

  “Ma’am, all three carriers are concentrating their fire on us,” said Proctor. “Independence is coming around, but….”

  “Sandoval, can you bring our forward batteries to bear on the nearest Swarm vessel?”

  “Half, Captain. We’re turning too slowly. And they’re staying out of the arc of our mag-rail broadside batteries.”

  A heavy explosion rocked them again, creating a chain reaction. Fire erupted from Sandoval’s panel and he cried out, blown backward onto the Bridge deck. Halsey leapt from her chair to check his condition, and Blake was right behind her to man the weapons station.

  Sandoval was dead.

  On-screen, the three Swarm carriers, two of them virtually undamaged, accelerated toward them.

  “All batteries—forward, port, and starboard,” called Blake into comms, his voice sharp and acrid in the smoke rising from the weapons console, “fire your guns as they bear on the enemy. Repeat: fire your guns as they bear!”

  His eyes found Halsey’s, and to her they seemed to share the same, desperate thought: Independence, where are you?

  “Captain, that last blast took out our maneuvering thrusters,” said Jameson. “We’re locked into our current course.”

  Halsey stared at the view
screen. Now they were rudderless, their course set by Newtonian physics and their own thrust. But she dared not cut the engines, not yet anyway, or they’d be easy prey for the Swarm.

  Ahead, the carriers made way for Invincible as she pressed forward, unable to steer. The enemy’s lasers blazed as they approached point-blank range.

  Well, John, looks like we won’t live up to our name after all, Halsey thought. My first command….

  “Captain, new blip on sensors, coming in behind us,” said Proctor, her voice desperate.

  Halsey blinked in the smoke that smelled like fried wire. More Swarm? When was enough enough?

  “Captain!” Proctor’s voice again, stronger and brighter. “It’s Avenger!”

  “They give you a shiny new starship, and this is how you treat her?” The voice, frazzled by interference and smug with confidence, was the sweetest sound Halsey had ever heard.

  “Sam?” She cleared her throat. “Is that you, Sam Avery?”

  “As usual, saving your ass. It’s like we’re plebes at the Academy all over again. You look a little tired. Stand down and let us take over, Addie.”

  Halsey got to her feet, smiling. “Like hell.”

  Chapter 8

  Britannia Sector, near Calais

  Bridge, ISS Avenger

  “Weapons, that carrier on the left, the one swinging starboard,” said Avery, pointing. “Target lasers on that fizzling fire on its port side. Let’s finish what Invincible started.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Avery pressed a button on her arm console. “CAG, launch fighters. Let’s get some fresh players on the field.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Mr. Brent, I’d like you to coordinate the fighter attack.”

  “Captain,” he said, tentative but firm, “perhaps I’d be better tasked pressing the attack on the carriers.”

  Sam regarded him, wondering if he might still be smarting after her assessment of his performance during the drills at Devil’s Den. Well, they didn’t have time for that bruised-ego crap now. “XO, I need the best tactician I’ve got making sure those enemy fighters stay occupied. I need you to bring our pilots home. I’ll handle the carriers.”

  Darting his eyes aside, Brent nodded reluctantly. Sam wondered for half a second if he might press his argument, but instead he turned and signaled their CAG to carry out her orders.

  “Helm, run interference for Invincible. Let’s give the cumrats another target to shoot at.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Turning back to the screen, Avery took stock. Endeavour, burning and drifting. Independence, coming around and finally back in the fight again. And Invincible—what the hell was Addie doing?

  “Captain,” said Buckland at sensors, “Invincible has cut her engines and … engaged a tractor beam?”

  Avery raised her eyebrows and stared expectantly at the screen. Invincible’s momentum carried her between the Swarm carriers, her guns blazing only to starboard to avoid catching Avenger in her firing solution. But she was now beginning to angle starboard more sharply than Newtonian physics should allow.

  “What’s happening there, Buckland?”

  “Captain … Invincible has locked a tractor beam on the Swarm carrier to her starboard side and is using the other ship’s forward motion to turn!”

  Sam smiled. Just like at the Academy, indeed. Halsey had been famous for throwing male opponents twice her weight when they came at her in sparring practice. All you gotta do is let the other guy do his thing, Sam remembered her saying. Then just twist, turn, and get out of the way.

  “Independence is firing her lasers into the hole we widened,” reported Buckland.

  “Ensign, I feel left out,” Avery said. “Target that hull breach and fire.”

  The Indy approached from the Shipyards and Avenger from Calais as their shared target attempted to avoid both ships. Lasers lanced out from both IDF vessels at the same time. Gouts of flame licked outward from the enemy ship’s hull, and internal explosions began to rip it apart at the seams.

  “And now there are two,” said Avery. Independence soared past overhead, a bit close for liking, on her way to aid Invincible. Halsey’s ship had changed its course only slightly with the tractor beam gambit. But the mass of one starship grappling and swinging another had pulled the Swarm carrier off course. The enemies appeared to circle one another like battle-scarred tigers. “Bring us around, Mr. Hathaway. Course one-one-two-mark-five.”

  “Course one-one-two-mark-five, aye.”

  But as Helm executed the order, Buckland at sensors gasped.

  “Yes, Ensign?”

  “Ma’am, enemy fighters are bugging out. I—uh—I think.” His disbelief was evident. Avery glanced over her shoulder to find him scanning his screens again. “Um, make that they’re definitely bugging out.”

  “On-screen.”

  The view changed to the swirling mass of fighters between the battling starships and the Shipyards. And then she saw it—a steady stream of Swarm fighters heading for the carrier with the least damage. In the lower quarter of the screen, a crippled and too-rapidly moving Invincible pounded her dance partner with the help of Independence. A white-hot hole drilled by mag-rail slugs grew like a tiny sun in the enemy carrier’s port side.

  “Sonofabitch,” breathed Avery. “We might win this thing after all.”

  “Should I recall fighters, Captain?” asked Brent.

  Avery shook her head, frowning. “Not yet, Malcolm. We haven’t won yet.”

  With half the Swarm fighters in flight, the lone carrier still in good shape jumped away. No sooner had it vanished than the starship held by Invincible’s tractor beam erupted into a fireball. Almost the entire bridge crew of the Avenger leapt from their chairs shouting victory. A few even traded high fives.

  Avery turned and smiled at Brent, who was sitting calmly. “Well, XO, it looks like we survived after all.”

  “Aye, ma’am. Looks that way.”

  She reached over and shook his hand. “Good work with the fighters.” Maybe that would start to make up for her earlier critique at Devil’s Den.

  He gave her a wan expression in return. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Captain, joint communiqué coming in from Independence and Invincible.”

  “On-screen. Helm, plot a course for Endeavour. Comms, have medevac teams standing by.”

  “Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” Noah Preble stated. His half of the split screen almost looked like he’d just rolled out of space dock. The Swarm had hardly touched Independence. By contrast, the image from Halsey’s ship showed the Bridge’s lights flickering. Insulation and wiring hung down from the ceiling behind her head. Smoke obscured her haggard, grinning face streaked with blood and sweat.

  “Oh, she’s always been that way,” joshed Halsey. “Late to the party and a look-at-me strut as she comes in the door.” She looked off-screen and nodded, muttering.

  “Addison, what’s your status?” asked Preble, clearly concerned.

  “I’ve got medics and engineers tripping over one another below. Trying to fix hull breaches and rescue the wounded, one compartment at a time. Damage Control tells me we’ll have maneuvering thrusters back online in short order, and we’re not in danger of running into anything at the moment. We’re backing our engines. I guess if we had to sustain major damage, the Shipyards is the best place to be.”

  Preble nodded. “We’re in better shape, obviously, but need a refit ourselves. I think when we ran out of slugs, we started shooting knives and forks out the barrels. Status, Avenger?”

  “We’re barely touched, sir,” said Avery. “Heading to Endeavour now.” That statement evoked a moment of silent solemnity from the captains on-screen. “We’ll effect rescue operations and begin a preliminary assessment of what can be salvaged, sir.”

  “Very good, Sam. Give me a report as soon as you can.” This time it was Preble who glanced off-screen. “Acknowledged, Lieutenant.” To his fellow star
ship captains, he looked like he’d just stepped in something smelly. “Pierce is calling. I think I’ll let it ring a while.”

  Halsey grunted, then asked, “Noah, can you take our fighters on board for the time being? Our hangar deck is a bit of a mess.”

  “Of course. Have your CAG coordinate with Lieutenant Scollard.”

  “Will do.”

  Preble’s head turned again. “All right, goddamn it!” He blinked and took a breath. “Apologies, Lieutenant. Put him through in ten. I guess I’ll have to deal with the admiral sometime,” he said to his viewscreen. “Might as well be now.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Halsey.

  “Sorry? Don’t be! You just saved the sector, Captain Halsey. That’s my headline to Pierce.”

  Halsey inclined her head. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Preble out.”

  Chapter 9

  Britannia Sector

  Churchill Station, Upper Orbit, Britannia

  The Crow’s Nest (IDF Officers Club)

  Halsey took a second shot of whiskey and grimaced. It wasn’t the good stuff, but it was good enough.

  “You should slow down,” said Avery. “I’m pretty sure they have plenty, even for this crowd.”

  Halsey blinked lazily at her oldest, dearest friend. Sam was right, of course. She should slow down. In fact, she probably shouldn’t be here at all. She should be overseeing the repair and refit of Invincible. But Commander Blake had offered to take that duty, and in turn, she was planning to visit their wounded in Churchill’s Infirmary first thing in the morning. She’d wanted to go sooner, but the station’s doctor advised against it. Too many burns, too much pain today to shake hands and talk about how much better things would be tomorrow. By the morning, the survivors would be stable, the doctor said, and up to seeing their captain.

  So she, Sam, and Noah Preble had made a date to meet at the Nest and debrief about the battle. Discuss what had gone right, what had gone wrong. With John Richards severely wounded in the Infirmary, it was Preble, as senior captain in the engagement, who was giving a command performance for Rear Admiral Pierce. So he hadn’t shown up yet, and so far, the talk between Avery and Halsey had only been small.