by Dietmar Wehr
Eagleton called over his CAG to give him his decision. “Okay, we’re going to hold back our FWs. You can tell the high alert pilots that they can stand down for now. I want Waterloo to launch all her remaining stingers with KEs. Two squadrons go after Sierra1. They can fire on her as soon as they’re within firing range. The rest are to head for Sierra2. The remainder of Third Fleet will launch their KE stingers at Sierra2. I want you to figure out firing positions for each strike group so that they get there at the same time, or as close to it as possible, in order to fire at the enemy from their rear. All the groups have to fire at the same time. That, in theory, should be enough to cripple all 33 Sierra2 ships. Waterloo’s main strike group will be used to pick off any enemy ships that are still able to maneuver. After each stinger fires its missile, it’s to return to its carrier to be re-armed with another KE just in case. Any questions, Cag?”
“Actually I do have one. With Sierra1 being attacked first, Sierra2 might send attack craft to Sierra1’s position to see if they can engage us. Waterloo’s main strike force might run into that enemy attack group. How do you want them to handle that scenario?”
Eagleton nodded. I should have thought of that myself. “That IS a good question. When Waterloo’s main strike group heads for Sierra2, tell them to spread out as much as possible while staying in communication range and sweep the areas in front of them with continuous AT fire.”
The CAG’s grin had a feral quality to it. “Yeah, that should take care of enemy craft alright. It’ll be hard on the equipment, but I think it can handle the strain. Anything else, Admiral?”
“Just this. Send out the orders, but nobody executes until everyone is ready. I’ll send out the execute signal. That’s it.”
The attack was ready in less that two minutes. Eagleton made a mental note to check if the carriers had set a new record for getting that many stingers ready that quickly. When all carriers had signaled ready, he touched the virtual button to send the ‘execute’ signal via FTL.
Eagleton tried to calm down his body. The adrenaline was making his heart race, and he felt a bit light-headed. He was coming to the realization that it was a lot easier to be the CAG responsible for hundreds of pilots than to be the Admiral responsible for those same pilots and hundreds of crewmen AND five ships. He watched the tactical display carefully now. It could show only the estimated positions of all strike groups since those groups would be operating under communications silence until they had something to report. Waterloo’s strike force sent against Sierra1 would be attacking any moment. Eagleton knew the strike leader would need a few more seconds to compose a text message that would be sent back to Ranger, and then he would see the results. The display pinged for attention.
[FROM STRIKE GROUP LEADER. MULTIPLE HITS ON SIERRA1. TARGET APPEARS TO HAVE BROKEN UP. STRIKE GROUP RETURNING TO CARRIER.]
Eagleton ignored the cheering from the Flag Bridge crew. The results were about what he expected, and he would celebrate after the whole battle was over, so long as the rest of the battle justified it. Right now it was more important that he remain focused on what happened with Sierra2.
Blackjack Strike Group:
Lieutenant Petty was watching his mass detection scope and listening to his Strike Leader give the group last minute instructions when the Leader’s voice suddenly ended in a shriek that was cut off very quickly. Petty looked up to look out the forward viewport to see if he could visually detect his Leader’s stinger, a very bright light flared and then died. Before he could even assemble a coherent thought, he saw several more bright flashes in the vicinity of the other stingers in his group. Out of sheer instinct he pushed his stinger into an emergency 180 degree turn.
“This is Blackjack 12 to any Blackjack. Did we just lose our Strike Leader?” When no one answered, a cold shiver went up his spine. “Blackjack 12 to any, repeat, ANY stinger. I think I just lost the rest of my group!” This time there was a reply, and his shiver turned to gut-wrenching fear.
Third Fleet Flagship (Ranger):
Eagleton jumped in surprise at the double ping from the tactical display. A double ping meant that the Tactical Computer was issuing an urgent alert to its human masters.
[LONG RANGE SENSORS DETECT MULTIPLE ANTI-MATTER EXPLOSIONS FROM THE APPROXIMATE POSITION OF RANGER’S STRIKE GROUPS. PROBABILITY THAT EXPLOSIONS ARE—]
Eagleton’s attention was distracted when he heard a loud and anguished shout of ‘NO!’ from the CAG.
“What is it, Cag?” asked Eagleton even before he finished turning in that direction.
“We getting…oh Christ…we’re getting scattered reports from a few stingers that the rest of the group has been destroyed.”
Eagleton felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Check with the other carriers to see if they’ve heard from their groups.” Even as he finished saying the words, he had a feeling that they would report similar results. “Can our remaining stingers fire from where they are now, Cag?”
“Ah, yeah, they can, but accuracy is going to be shit,” said the officer.
Eagleton thought he knew what had happened, and if he was right, letting the other groups continue to follow their instruction would be disastrous. “Contact the other light carriers and tell them to order their strike groups to fire from wherever they are now and then return. Same goes for our group.”
CAG looked like he wanted to argue with Eagleton, but then he nodded and turned to the Com Station. When he finished issuing the new orders, he turned to find Eagleton still looking at him.
“What about Waterloo’s main strike force?”
Eagleton had been asking himself that question too. If, as he suspected, the Tyrell ships were firing their anti-tachyon defense batteries behind them in a counter-move to what had happened to them in the Metrone system, then they might not also be firing toward their front, but he wasn’t prepared to take that chance.
“Tell Waterloo to instruct them to fire at maximum range and then head back to her. We have to re-group and find out what forces we have left, Cag.”
Waterloo relayed their Strike Leader’s report to Ranger 3.4 minutes later.
[STRIKE LEADER’S REPORT. ESTIMATE 57 HITS. UNABLE TO TELL HOW MANY TARGETS STILL ABLE TO MANEUVER. SOME PILOTS REPORT SEEING BRIEF FLASHES THAT MAY BE ENEMY CRAFT CAUGHT IN OUR AT FIRE. WE ARE CONTINUING TO FIRE BEHIND US AS WE RETURN TO CARRIER.]
“That Strike Leader deserves a commendation, Cag,” said Eagleton, as he realized that he should have added the last sentence as an order himself.
“She’s pretty good, Admiral. I didn’t think of it either.”
Eagleton grunted his acknowledgement as he stepped over to the Astrogation Station. When the FAO looked up at him, he said, “Tell Waterloo’s AO that I want her to join us here as soon as she’s finished recovering her groups. The other three carriers stay where they are for now.”
It was almost 13 nerve-wracking minutes later when Waterloo had micro-jumped to within a few hundred kilometers from Ranger. By then, Eagleton had a good idea of where Third Fleet stood. Forty-nine percent of his stinger force was gone, probably from anti-tachyon fire, but no one knew for sure. Waterloo had launched another RD2 drone before jumping, and its mass detection report showed no ships remaining where Sierra2 had been. Waterloo’s tactical computer had reviewed the sensor readings of the stingers in the main strike force and estimated that each of the enemy ships had been hit at least once, with some hit twice. Since they were hit from their front where the armor was quite thick, and because of the long range that had caused the damage from the particle beam fire to be muted, TacComp estimated that none of the enemy ships had been badly damaged, and the recon drone’s mass detection report seemed to confirm that.
“They’ve micro-jumped somewhere else in the system,” ventured the CAG. Eagleton wasn’t so sure. If the damage really had been light, or at least not heavy, then why jump away instead of standing their ground and laying down a 360-degree defensive fire with their AT batteries? He
could think of only two reasons why a carrier fleet commander would give up that kind of advantage. Either the damage inflicted had been more than estimated, or he had lost a lot of his attack craft from Waterloo’s main strike force’s forward and then rearward AT fire. He decided that the best thing Third Fleet could do now was wait for more sighting reports from the network of RD1s that were still scanning for reflections.
After 48 hours of no further sightings, HQ back on Earth declared that the attack was over and that Third Fleet could stand down.
Chapter Nine:
Tyrell Home World:
Torq stood on the balcony overlooking the Master Tactical Display and shook his head in dismay. Two conquered systems had been recovered by Alliance fleets since his failed attempt to crush the humans. High Command still hadn’t come to grips with the magnitude of the threat now facing the Empire. The Metrone admiral had identified 15 races as members of the Alliance, and most of them had yet to start attacking the Empire, but it was only a matter of time before they did. His three and soon to be four carriers couldn’t be everywhere at once, so the only way to destroy those large attack ships was to overpower them with sheer numbers of Ships-of-Battle until the carrier fleet could be built up enough to carry the load. In the meantime, his losses in attack craft in the human star system was actually putting a strain on building up the carrier fleet to full strength. The bottleneck was not production of attack craft but rather the training of sufficient pilots to operate them. At least the battle damage to his Flagship would be repaired soon, and High Command had acknowledged that training new pilots would be given a higher priority and more resources, but it would take time to see the results of those actions. For now, he had to wait. At least his superiors hadn’t ordered him to deploy his carriers individually among other fleets. They seemed to understand that the humans were the single biggest threat and that he needed all the carriers he could get to be able to prevail against the human carrier fleet. And yet, he couldn’t help feeling that in some way the Empire had lost the initiative in that last battle. Perhaps it would be prudent to push for approval for another attack on the human system with Ships-of-Battle only, but on a massive scale in order to keep the humans off balance until his carriers were ready to pounce again. If the attacking fleet were composed solely of Ships-of-Battle modified with short-range, anti-matter beam turrets, they should be able to keep the human attack craft at bay. He made up his mind to propose the idea and even offer to forego command of that fleet in order to let someone else have a chance to cover themselves in glory. He turned away from the display and thus did not see yet another system icon change from the red circle that meant a conquered system to the green triangle that indicated it was now lost to them.
Earth (EAF Hospital):
Harrow heard someone clear their throat, and when she opened her eye, she was surprised to see CEO Mirakova standing in front of her.
“Don’t try to stand and salute, Admiral. That’s an order,” said Mirakova as Harrow struggled to get to her feet. When Harrow let herself sink back into the comfortable chair, Mirakova nodded her approval. “That’s better. Sorry to wake you, but I can’t stay long. I had a chat with your doctors and the physiotherapists, and they tell me that while they would like you to stay and continue your rehab longer, you could return to duty right now. How do you feel about that prospect?”
Harrow hesitated. She knew what she wanted to say, but she also knew what the CEO would not be prepared to agree to. “I’d like nothing better than to resume command of Third Fleet, Admiral.”
Mirakova smiled a sad smile and shook her head slowly. “That’s not going to happen, and I think you know that. Field commands require a higher standard of physical ability, which you haven’t regained yet. There are situations that might arise where you’d have to move fast, and waiving those minimum requirements would not only be unfair to you, it would also be unfair to the men and women who’d be counting on you to be able to meet the same standards that they did. I have also been given to understand that you tire easily, which is another reason why I won’t give you back Third Fleet. But there is a position that does not require those same standards of mental and physical ability. Up until now, I’ve been wearing two hats. One is the hat belonging to the Chief Executive Officer of the EAF. That’s on the administrative side. The other hat belongs to the Chief Strategy and Planning Officer, which has responsibility for conducting and winning the war. When we were able to decrypt enemy signals, the plan was to transfer the person wearing that hat to the Mobile Command Ship to co-ordinate the strategy for the entire Alliance. Well, as you know, that didn’t happen for a variety of reasons, the final one being the switch by the enemy to a new code, and therefore that hat was never given to someone else. However, the situation has changed. Admiral Eagleton has proven himself to be the tactician we all suspected he was, and it’s well known that your strength lies on the strategic side of the equation. What better place is there to take advantage of that than CSPO on the MCS.”
“Well yes, but that would only work if the Alliance agreed to have a human supreme commander, and we would also need to be able to monitor and understand enemy communications, and since neither of those conditions have been met…” She let the sentence go unfinished as she saw a growing smile on Mirakova’s face.
“I did say the situation has changed, remember?”
Harrow pondered that for a couple of seconds and then said, “The Alliance…oh my God. We broke their new code!”
Mirakova laughed. “Yes, we broke their code again, and YES, the Alliance has agreed that a human will be the overall Strategic Planner, but they reserve the right to reject the CSPO’s recommendations, so you won’t be able to order them to do what you want, but at least you’ll have the opportunity to try to convince them to play it your way. By the way, the MCS will have to move around a lot more. We now know that when the Metrone system was conquered, the Tyrell learned all about the Alliance, who its members are and the fact that information was being co-ordinated by the MCS, so they’re going to do their best to find it and destroy it. As CSPO, you’ll have authority to move it when and where you wish. How soon can you be ready to leave, Admiral?”
Mobile Command Ship (three days later):
Harrow made her way slowly and painfully to the windows of the human bay and looked at the multi-story holographic representation of the entire volume of space that contained the war with the Tyrell. There was so much information that could be presented visually that she had a pretty good feel for the whole war in a matter of minutes. If the latest news hadn’t been so disturbing, she would have felt optimistic instead of worried. The Tyrell High Command had decided to send a massive fleet of 100 super-ships to the Sol system with the primary objective being to wipe out its mobile defenses, which meant Third Fleet. The intercepted messages specifically identified super-ships that had been modified with anti-tachyon defense turrets to be assigned to the attacking fleet. That was bad news. With that many ships, the fleet commander could easily order continuous firing of anti-tachyons in all directions, making the fleet almost invulnerable to stinger attacks. The stingers would be blown apart before they could get close enough to fire accurately, and if they fired from a safe distance, as had been the case in the last battle, the KE missiles might be blown apart before they could penetrate the storm of anti-matter particles. If the enemy succeeded in destroying or at least neutralizing Third Fleet, then the secondary objective would be to make an example of Earth to other members of the Alliance with massive orbital bombardment by KE projectiles, just as they had done to the Sheepul’s home planet. The only thing even close to a silver lining on this black cloud was the fact that she knew when the attack fleet would leave its forward base, and that was not for another 21 days. It then would take an additional five days to get to Sol. That gave Mirakova and Gort 26 days to figure out a defensive strategy. Meanwhile, she was to focus on, or at least try to focus on, coming up with an high-level co-ordinated strategy invol
ving Alliance fleets, some of which were beginning to be equipped with transferred stingers, while others still had their versions of corvettes. She took a deep breath and began dictating notes to her personal digital assistant, which she would use later to formulate some strategies.
EAF HQ / Earth:
Eagleton felt the responsibility of commanding Third Fleet suddenly become much heavier. The CEO had just briefed him on the Tyrell plan to destroy Third Fleet and bombard Earth back into the Stone Age. She was now expecting him to come up with a plan to prevent that outcome, and he didn’t have a single good idea to suggest. As the seconds ticked by, the moment became increasingly awkward.
