He didn’t come out of his quarters for another five full hours, and when he did, he was rested, clean, and ready to look at the problems from a new angle. The reassuring thrum of the engines and the calm demeanor of the crew he passed were also welcome as he nodded to the Marine sentry and walked onto the bridge.
“Captain.” Lieutenant Davis nodded to him as she vacated the command seat. “Nothing of note to report. We’re getting ready to lose line of sight contact with Xi’an as we cross behind the primary star. As of forty-six minutes ago, the Phage Alphas were still in low orbit over the planet and showing no unusual thermal activity.”
“Very good, Lieutenant.” Jackson took his seat. “You’re relieved. Get below deck and grab some rack time.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Here’s to a quiet watch.”
“Indeed.”
Jackson pulled up the ship’s status on his terminal and checked specific details from each department. He sent a quick message to Commander Singh, his Chief Engineer and best friend, about meeting up for dinner before their rendezvous with the rest of the squadron. He answered another dozen messages to different department heads, mostly about mundane ship’s operation, and marveled at how calm the atmosphere aboard was as they had two ships of a planet-killer class sitting nearby. Maybe they really had come a long way in a short time.
“Nav! How long until we reach the rest of the squadron?” he called out.
“We’ll reach the rendezvous coordinates in seven hours, forty-five minutes,” the specialist at the station answered immediately. “The Artemis and Hyperion will arrive approximately three hours after us.” Jackson already knew all this from looking at his status board, but he’d never seen the specialist second class on the bridge and wanted to see if the young man was paying attention to his surroundings.
“Thank you, Specialist.” He pretended not to notice the thumbs up the com officer gave the young enlisted spacer.
They were now cold-coasting. Having burned hard to change orbits and slingshot around the star, they were now able to fly purely on momentum, virtually disappearing into the surrounding space to anyone who was looking for them.
“Tactical, have we reacquired the Alphas after coming around the primary?” He looked over the telemetry data from the drone that, miraculously, was still flying over the planet’s surface.
“Yes, sir,” the ensign sitting at the tactical station answered. Her name was McCollum, and she’d scored especially well during training when they were all coming up to speed on how to operate the new ship.
“And?”
“Uh… they’re still orbiting over Xi’an, sir,” she said with uncertainty.
“Make sure you give me all the information you have, Ensign,” Jackson snapped. “Don’t make me drag each detail out of you.”
He wasn’t deliberately harassing the tail end of second watch, but he knew from his own experience as a young officer that things tended to fall into a comfortable routine. They needed to be able to do their jobs no matter who was on watch and who was giving the orders. He keenly felt the pressure to make sure they were ready for what was coming… and the fact the Phage had now begun pushing into Confederate space in earnest meant he was running out of time.
He passed the last few hours before they needed to reengage the engines by drilling his bridge crew before their first watch counterparts came on duty. When Lieutenant Commander Barrett walked onto the bridge, Ensign McCollum practically flung herself out of the seat to give turnover as fast as she could and escape. Barrett gave his captain a questioning look but said nothing as he slid into the seat and began reconfiguring the station to his preferences.
“You’re on duty early, sir.” Celesta walked onto the bridge and began taking inventory of the ship’s status and personnel.
“Wanted to get a feel for the new spacers we picked up when they turned the ship over to us.” He left it hanging.
“How do you feel they performed?” Ship’s personnel was her responsibility, and she took it as a personal affront when they didn’t meet expectations.
“They’re trying,” he said diplomatically. “They’re young and inexperienced, but they take their jobs seriously and don’t repeat mistakes. It’s hard to ask for much more than that.”
“Perhaps, sir,” Celesta shrugged noncommittally. “I’d prefer they were a little better trained before we got them, but I suppose circumstances didn’t permit that.”
“They’ll be fine, Commander,” Jackson insisted. “We’re about to fire the engines and begin our final braking maneuver. Hopefully the Atlas and Icarus are there waiting for us like they’re supposed to be.”
“How long until the Artemis and Hyperion make the rally point?” she asked.
“A few hours after us unless they pushed a little harder than originally planned,” he said. “Once we’re there, we can have a conference with the other command crews and figure out how we want to handle our two interlopers.”
“I went below after my watch. Commander Singh is itching to try out some of the new weapons,” she said. “Specifically the rapid-fire mag-cannon.”
“He turned out to be a lot more bloodthirsty than I would have imagined,” Jackson deadpanned.
Celesta’s willingness to disobey orders for the greater good and back up Jackson as captain of the Blue Jacket instead of removing him from command had brought her into the fold with Daya Singh. During his own recovery and the shakedown of the Starwolf-class prototype, the pair had cemented their friendship. Jackson sometimes worried that it led to some lapses in professionalism, but the tradeoff was worth it, and his own interactions with the Chief Engineer were often far more personal than Fleet customs and courtesies would dictate.
“There’ll be plenty of fighting to go around before this is all over. Right now we have a real opportunity to learn something rather than charge in and start peppering those two Alphas with cannon shells and nukes.”
“No argument here, sir,” she said.
****
Ninth Squadron made their rendezvous without incident. All five of the destroyers moved into a loose formation and initiated a tight-beam com laser connection with the ship on either side to allow two-way communications between all the vessels. At the request of the other COs, Jackson allowed for a five-way conference, despite his suspicion that it would be a complete waste of time. After the Ares had stabilized in her holding position, he, Commander Wright, and Lieutenant Davis were looking at each of their counterparts on the divided screen in the command deck conference room.
“Our best information indicates that both Alphas are still orbiting Xi’an and making no move to leave the system.” Jackson opened the meeting with no preamble, wanting to get it over with and get his people moving as quickly as possible. “The drone we launched during our flyby has been destroyed, but before that, it was able to transmit images of what look to be the shipyards, for lack of a better term, where these two Alphas were constructed and launched. It also confirmed that the weapons fire that cleared the path to orbit originated there.” He looked around to gauge the response of his audience.
“So our options are to continue observations from far orbit as we are now, or take this opportunity to destroy the two Alphas that we have surmised are incomplete and possibly without armament.”
“I think the choice is obvious,” Captain Levitt said from the Icarus’ conference room. “Observation and reporting is grand for a scientific expedition, but taking the risk that those two Alphas could leave the system and be completed elsewhere, only to return to Confederate space, is unconscionable. They must be destroyed here. Now.” “Captain Wolfe, while we all respect your experience with this type of enemy ship, could your hesitation to attack be overcautious given the current circumstances?” Captain of the TCS Hyperion, Olivia Forrest’s voice dripped with disdain.
“What hesitation would you be referring to?” Jackson kept his face and voice neutral. “This is simply a forum for you to voice your opinions as we reg
roup. A meeting called at your request, I would remind you. I may, or may not, follow the consensus reached here depending on what I feel is the best course of action.”
“Nobody is suggesting that we’re hesitating,” Levitt said quickly, despite the fact that Forrest had said just that only moments ago. “But… we do need to figure out fairly quickly what we’re going to do.”
Jackson suppressed the urge to yet again point out that it was their desire to talk the issue to death that was the cause of the delay. He held his tongue as he recognized it for what it was: they were all scared. More accurately, they were shitting-their-pants-terrified. They wanted to save face by letting him be the one to order the withdrawal.
The conversation continued for the next twenty minutes with Jackson more or less staying in the background. He’d already made his decision, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a read on his other captains and allow them to feel like they had a say in the plan. Thankfully, the four were divided down the middle, so Jackson could decide either way and only piss off half his subordinates.
“I think I’ve heard all I need to hear.” He interrupted Forrest just as she was launching into another long-winded attack on Captain Caruso, CO of the TCS Atlas. “After this meeting, we will prepare the squadron to make an attack run on both Alphas currently orbiting Xi’an. The trip back down into the system will take at least twelve hours, and in that time, I want at least three possible strategies for deploying the squadron against both targets simultaneously. As we approach, and the sensor delay lessens, we’ll commit to one of those and press the attack. Any questions?”
Captain Levitt looked like he wanted to say something, but fell silent and shook his head when Jackson looked directly at him.
“Good. Get your ships and your crews ready,” Jackson said. “We’ll begin flying back down the well in exactly fifteen minutes. Dismissed.” He waited until all the monitors blanked, displaying each ship’s crest in place of the video feed, before standing up and turning to leave.
“Commander Wright, please ensure the Ares is ready to fly and fight,” he said. “Lieutenant Davis, begin working with Lieutenant Commander Barrett to devise an assault plan on both Alphas, keeping in mind that we’ll be attacking with the entire squadron.”
“Aye, sir.” Davis turned on his heel and left immediately.
“Was there something else, Commander?” Jackson said as Celesta stood but made no move to leave.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “If I may… why allow them to bicker amongst themselves? It was fairly obvious that none of them wants to attack the enemy despite all the bluster.”
“We had to regroup at a logical place if we wanted to hit those two Alphas with the combined strength of all five ships,” Jackson said. “We’ve lost a little time by moving back out into the outer system, but it’s given us an opportunity to make sure we’re not being baited into a slaughter. This will be the first real taste of combat for the rest of the Ninth. For the last year, all they’ve done is warp into a system, dispatch a handful of Bravos with the new Hornets, and warp out. Depending on what we find down there, this could be the first real battle we’ve faced since that first Alpha incursion. I think the reality of it might be sinking in.”
“I understand, sir.” Celesta’s tone indicated that she was not fully convinced. “If that’ll be all…?”
“Dismissed, Commander,” Jackson said.
He took his time walking back to the bridge, stopping by the wardroom for a fresh mug of coffee and a quick bite to eat. Had his conversation with Commander Wright been inappropriately candid? His own misgivings toward his fellow captains was one thing, but voicing them to a subordinate, even one as trusted as his XO, was another entirely.
His frustration with the lack of progress by the Confederate military machine was reaching critical mass. Did they truly not comprehend how grave the threat was? He shook his head, as if the action could actually clear out all the extraneous thoughts, and tried to bring his focus entirely on the matter at hand.
While commanding a starship during combat operations was becoming part of his normal routine, he was still never fully comfortable with it. There was never a moment when he was flying toward an engagement, even against the comparatively weak Bravos, in a starship weighing hundreds of thousands of tons that he wasn’t painfully aware of the hundreds of lives within the hull that were trusting him to keep them alive. It ate away at his insides like a cancer, and it seemed to have a cumulative effect as the ghosts of the crewmembers lost on the Blue Jacket would still haunt his sleep, each of them silently accusing him of betraying that trust and leading them to their deaths.
When he reached the bridge, Celesta had all departments already checked in for departure, and his OPS and Tactical officers were hard at work trying to figure out how best to deploy five destroyers against two targets as large as an Alpha. It was a unique challenge as every recent engagement, including his own initial battle with the Phage, usually pitted a single Terran ship operating autonomously against anywhere from one to fifty Phage ships.
“All departments have checked in, and Engineering has cleared the ship for flight,” Celesta said.
He sat down and checked over his monitor himself. “Coms! Signal the squadron. We’re breaking orbit in five minutes,” Jackson said. “Trailing wedge formation, all ships form up on the Ares. We’ll be accelerating at five hundred G’s until we break for the targets.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Lieutenant Keller pulled his headset back on fully.
The instructions to the rest of the squadron were out of habit but unnecessary. The Link would send out a burst transmission of the Ares’ navigational data to the other ships as soon as she began thrusting out of her current orbit.
Jackson leaned back in his seat and rubbed his chin, trying to quell the nerves that had started as soon as he’d decided they would attack the two Alphas with a handful of destroyers. Despite the advancements in technology found on the Starwolf-class ships, he couldn’t help but marvel at the disparity between them and the enormous Phage units. As he felt the soft vibration through his seat of the engines coming to life, he hoped the two ships orbiting the former human colony were as helpless as they appeared.
“Helm! Ahead two thirds until we reach our target velocity,” he ordered. “Take us down.” “Engines ahead two thirds, aye.”
Chapter 3
The short burst of acceleration had pushed the Ares to .07c, or seven percent of the speed of light. The rest of the squadron timed their own acceleration maneuvers so that they fanned out behind the lead destroyer, separated by around fifteen thousand kilometers. They were now cold coasting toward Xi’an, listening and watching with their passive sensors as they approached the planet in as stealthy a manner possible.
As they closed the gap, the tension on the bridge of the Ares climbed proportionally. Commander Wright had set up a supplemental watch schedule that would put first watch back on the bridge four hours before they crossed the orbit of Xi’an’s furthest moon without keeping the ship at general quarters. She sat pensively in her seat next to Jackson as the mission clock ticked up and the distance ticked down.
“Make the call, Commander,” Jackson said quietly. “Let’s get ready.”
“General quarters, general quarters,” she called over the ship-wide PA. “All hands, man your battle stations. Set condition 2SS and prepare for imminent contact with enemy ships.”
Condition two, ship to ship, 2SS, let the crew know there would be combat between ships in space, and they were part of a larger force. Since the Ares was officially handed off from Tsuyo shipyards to CENTCOM, Jackson had been running them through drills until they knew the difference between ship configurations like the backs of their hands.
“Tactical! Go active, and paint the targets,” Jackson ordered. “OPS, put our sensor telemetry on the Link and make sure the other ships stay silent until they’re ready to engage.”
“Yes, sir!” Lieutenant Commander Barrett said.
&
nbsp; Instantly, the threat board began to populate, showing the two Alphas, now sitting in a high transfer orbit, and the other four ships from their own squadron.
“Plot a firing solution for the Shrikes,” Jackson ordered. “Two missiles to each target.”
“Targets reacting to active radar,” Lieutenant Davis reported. “Alpha-One is accelerating around the planet. Alpha-Two is pushing away and coming onto an intercept course.”
“That’s unexpected,” Celesta said.
“Indeed,” Jackson frowned. “If they’re really toothless, why risk coming out to meet us? OPS, how long until Alpha-One crosses the horizon?”
“Fifty-one minutes,” Davis reported.
Jackson confirmed their range on the main display before. “Tactical, firing solution for Alpha-Two only, two missiles,” he said. “OPS, tell the Icarus and the Atlas to break formation and engage Alpha-One as it comes around, nukes are authorized.”
“Solutions plotted and missiles are updated,” Barrett said tightly. “Armament has confirmed both birds ready to fire.”
“Standby,” Jackson said.
Alpha-Two slowed its approach, almost coming to a full stop between them and the planet. The behavior was all wrong for a target that was supposedly unable to defend itself while looking at multiple heavily armed hostiles bearing down on it. The Icarus and Atlas were now veering off away from their formation to catch Alpha-One as it came around Xi’an, both ships accelerating hard.
“Sir?” Barrett said.
“Fire both birds, five hundred millisecond stagger,” Jackson said. “Helm, all reverse one quarter. Let’s shed some of this speed. Tactical, get the auto-mag ready to fire… high-explosive penetrators, twenty-five round burst.”
Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) Page 4
