by Jay Allan
“Yes, sir. There have been a total of five shots…excuse me, a sixth has just occurred.” Compton’s AI had been upgraded several times, but the personality module had remained consistent. “Shining Crescent has been hit twice, and is the most seriously impacted, admiral. The vessel has suffered severe damage to her reactors and is currently operating on 20% power.”
“Admiral, I have that link to Admiral West, sir.” Harmon was staring across the flag bridge, waiting for Compton’s orders.
“Put it through to my line.” Compton switched his com from Joker’s line. “Erica, I need your people to go in as quickly as you can. Those fortresses have some sort of super particle accelerators on them. There’s no way we can take that fire for the time it will take us to close.”
There was a delay of a few seconds’ as the signal bounced its way from ship to ship over to West’s flagship, and the same as her response made it back.
“Understood, sir. We’re on the way.”
“Very well. Compton out.” Back to Joker on the com: “Update?”
“It appears that the enemy platforms were seriously damaged by Admiral Hurley’s bombers. There are six fortresses, each of which appears to support at least four anti-matter particle accelerators. The weapons are not attached to the forts themselves; they appear to be satellites deployed approximately ten kilometers away from the stations.”
“Hold, Joker.” Compton snapped his head toward Harmon. “Max, advise Admiral West that the particle weapons are in detached satellites positioned near the fortresses. Those are her priority targets.” He switched his attention back to Joker. “Continue with report.”
The AI resumed where it had left off. “It appears that only one of the stations retains four operating weapons. Another has two, and the remaining four have only one each. Spectral analysis of the area strongly suggests the bomber strike destroyed the remaining installations.”
I wish I could kiss you, Greta, he thought with a sigh…twenty-four of those things would have torn the fleet to bits. “Commander Harmon, are the laser buoys in position?”
“Affirmative, sir.”
Compton stared over at his tactical officer. “Open fire. All units.”
Erica West gripped the armrests on her command chair. It was more habit than anything else…she was firmly strapped in and wearing a survival suit. Holding on was extraneous to say the least.
Her ships were coming in slow, thrusting to swing around Sigma 4 II. When they cleared the planet they’d be in a point blank range fight with the fortresses. She had no idea what those particle accelerators could do at such close quarters, but she knew it couldn’t be good. At least her lasers would be effective too, and she had her ships under orders to fire every weapon as soon as they came to bear.
“All laser batteries, prepare to fire.” She was commanding the task force flagship herself. Flag Captain Jones had been a freak casualty during the missile barrage, hit by a broken girder. She’d recover, but with a broken spine and fractured skull, she wasn’t going to be running the ship any time soon.
Monmouth was coming around first, followed closely by the PRC’s Yahsida and Akagi. The three capital ships were followed by half a dozen cruisers and a flotilla of Russian-Indian destroyers. More than enough to finish off a few damaged orbital forts. She hoped.
“All batteries…open fire!” She almost shouted into the com. It had been a long time since West had commanded a ship directly, and it felt good. Two of the forts had come into Monmouth’s field of fire, and she wanted to hit them as hard as possible before they could target her own ships.
Monmouth’s heavy lasers lanced out toward the first of the stations, their invisible pulses hitting the target hard at such short range. A Yorktown A, her flagship backed a strong punch, ten heavy laser cannons and an array of lighter weapons. She didn’t have the new enhancements the Yorktown Bs did, but the ship was still an awesome instrument of war.
“Multiple hits on target, admiral.” Hank Krantz was West’s tactical officer. He’d been one of her captains for the last few years, but she’d needed to switch around her staff for this mission. “Some damage…it’s hard to get accurate readings through those enemy hulls.”
The First Imperium ships and forts were armored with a strange alloy, laced with some type of dark matter infused metal that had, to date, confounded Earth science and remained a mystery, even to Tom Sparks and his research team. One thing was certain, however…it was extremely tough and highly resistant to laser fire.
“All batteries maintain fire.” She looked down at the data streaming in. Damn, she thought…these stations are tough.
“Particle accelerator hit on Akagi, admiral.” Krantz glanced up, a stunned look on his face. “Her reactors are both out. Secondary explosions…she’s bleeding air.”
West felt the blood drain from her face. One short range hit from these things can cripple a battleship, she thought…how the hell can we fight something like that?
“Admiral, I have a message from the flagship.” Krantz was excited, almost yelling. “The heavy enemy weapons are on satellites located around the primary forts. We are ordered to concentrate on destroying those.”
“No shit.” West was rattled. She’d never seen one shot almost wreck a capital ship. “All batteries, ignore the main platforms. Widest dispersal up to 20 klicks from the forts.” The satellites were small and hard to individually target, but she didn’t have any choice. They had to get those heavy particle guns. Now.
“Yes, admiral.” Krantz repeated the order on the fleetcom line.
West stared at the tactical screen. One more hit would almost certainly destroy Akagi. She wanted to send her to the rear, but there was no way to do it. Without her reactors she was on emergency power. That was nowhere near enough to decelerate a ship that size and turn it around. The stricken PRC battleship would continue toward the targets at her initial velocity, without weapons and almost defenseless. We might be better off, West thought for an instant…it will hurt less tactically to lose a crippled ship than to have a combat-effective one hit and taken out of action. But that wasn’t how she was wired. She didn’t use her wounded for cover…even if it was the most expedient play. Akagi and her crew were under her command, and she would do everything she could to save them.
“Get Akagi on my com, lieutenant.” She had an idea. “Now!”
“I have Lieutenant Commander Roku, admiral.”
Captain Ishida had been Akagi’s commander. Things must be bad over there, she thought. She tried to place Roku…he had been fourth in the chain of command, she thought. “Commander Roku, I want you to try something.” There was no point in asking about the captain and other officers or grilling Roku on the ship’s condition. That wasn’t West’s job, and the commander of Akagi had more important things to do than recap the last few minutes for her.
“Yes, admiral.” Roku’s voice was raw and hoarse. He was speaking English himself, and with no translation program rehashing the transmission, his tension came through unfiltered. “What would you like me to do?”
“I want you to fire your missiles.” No point wasting time, she thought…get right to the point. Akagi didn’t have the power to fire her lasers, but missiles could be launched off the batteries. “I want you to target the area around the fortresses.”
“Admiral, our targeting systems are badly damaged, and we’re well below minimum range for missiles anyway. We’ll never hit a target.” There was confusion in his voice. He didn’t understand what she was getting at.
“I don’t want pinpoint targeting, commander. I just want you to disable the safeties and expel the things in the general direction of the platforms. Detonate the nukes when they are close. Like mines. Do you understand?”
“Ah…yes, admiral.” His tone was still confused, uncertain. It was clear he didn’t really get what she was after.
“Antimatter, commander.” She was trying to make him understand. “Those things are fueled by antimatter. I want nuc
lear explosions all around that area. All we need to do is damage the containment on one of those things or overload a vital circuit with radiation, and the antimatter will annihilate.” Her voice had gotten louder, more emphatic. “That’s why they’re positioned so far from the forts to begin with…they’re vulnerable.”
“Yes, I understand.” She could hear the beginnings clarity in his voice. He was starting to comprehend.
“I can’t shut down our laser barrage to retask for missile fire, but your lasers are offline anyway.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.” West could hear him shouting orders before she cut the line. Good, she thought…he understands.
“Admiral, I have Delta-Z codes from Boise and Mikasa.” The Grand Pact had adopted Alliance protocols for the final transmission from a doomed ship.
West didn’t respond. In the back of her mind she was trying not to hate herself for being relieved it was two heavy cruisers destroyed and not two battleships. How many, she thought, of the what…thousand crew on those two ships…will escape? She didn’t want the answer. Not now.
She was watching her screen, following the effects of the laser barrage her ships were firing. They’d gotten one of the satellites, but taking potshots with lasers wasn’t going to get the job done. Not fast enough.
“Shit, those things are hard to target.” She muttered softly under her lips, venting her frustration. “Good,” she whispered a moment later as she saw a cloud of small objects on her display…Akagi’s missiles. I hope this works, she thought anxiously. They’re not expecting incoming missiles at this range, and those birds are putting out minimal power and will be hard to detect.
Her head spun around as she heard a deafening sound…not an explosion, more of a crash, like metal being torn and rended apart. Monmouth lurched, throwing her body forward hard against her safety strap. The flagship had been hit.
Monmouth shook wildly, tumbling as multiple secondary explosions and expulsions of atmosphere altered her vector unpredictably. The ship lost thrust and, along with it, her simulated gravity. Debris flew wildly around the now nearly zero gee flag bridge, and a main structural conduit broke, one of its massive halves floating hard into a bank of workstations, crushing everyone in its path.
West straightened herself and felt a searing pain in her chest. At the very least, she’d cracked a few ribs. “Status report?” No response. She snapped her head around, wincing at the pain in her chest as she did. Krantz was laying in the remnants of his chair, very dead. The left half of his body had been hit hard by debris and virtually crushed. She tried to look around the flag bridge, but she couldn’t see much…and what was visible was a nightmare. There was wreckage everywhere, and hazy clouds of blood floating next to severed body parts. A dozen ruptured lines spewed gas and fluids into the air.
“Status report?” She tried to turn, to look behind her, but she couldn’t move herself. Whatever injuries she’d sustained, it was apparently worse than a cracked rib. “This is Admiral West…report immediately…anyone. But there was no response, only the loud static of her damaged com unit.
Compton sat silently on the flag bridge, his expression grim. No one dared to approach him, not now. No one but Max Harmon, and then only if it was extremely important. He’d won another victory, a new battle honor the wordsmiths would weave poetically into his service record. But as he had so often found in almost 50 years in space, now that he’d paid the price, the triumph he’d wanted so badly didn’t seem so sweet.
They taught us again not to underestimate them, Compton thought…showed us once more that we are the children in their universe. He was angry with himself. He’d given considerable thought to what other weapons the First Imperium might have had waiting, how heavily fortified one of their bases might be. But he couldn’t pick his enemy or decide what powers they would possess. And there’d been no choice but to go in, to keep up the pressure and find a way, any way, to end this war.
Still, he felt he should have foreseen things more clearly…that there should have been some way to reduce the cost his people had paid. Erica West would live, at least. Her people had gotten her evac’d to Yashida’s sickbay. He wished he could say the same for Monmouth, but her main structural spine had been shattered. Compton had seen a lot of damaged ships, and he was pretty sure West’s flagship was a total loss.
Akagi might survive. Her damage was extensive, but probably repairable. The old girl deserved to make it, he thought, since Akagi, acting on West’s orders, was as responsible as any fleet unit for the victory. Her short-ranged missile fire had erupted around the orbital platforms, taking out four of the particle gun satellites in less than a minute. Compton couldn’t imagine what the losses would have been if they hadn’t.
Once the heavy guns were gone, West’s people swarmed around the rest of the orbital works and tore them to pieces. They’d thought the admiral was dead, and they took their vengeance, closing to point blank range and ripping the things apart with concentrated laser fire. The enemy armor was laser-resistant, but a strong enough focused barrage would destroy anything…especially from spitting distance.
While West’s people secured the orbital facilities, John Duke’s crack attack ships had swarmed back through the enemy formations, picking off the wounded ships and then delivering multiple plasma torpedo runs to those still in decent shape. By the time they cleared the combat zone, they’d lost another 21 of their number, but they’d left nothing in their wake but shattered hulks. Compton’s main body quickly finished off what little was left. The battle was over, and won. It was time to count the cost.
Compton had five battleships crippled or mortally wounded. Hurley had lost over a third of her people, as had John Duke. Any initial hopes for a quick victory over an outnumbered enemy looked like the worst kind of foolishness now. But however painful and costly, it was a victory, and not one Compton intended to waste. They had uncontested possession of the space over a First Imperium planet. At least for now.
“Get me General Cain.” They were the first words he’d spoken in quite some time.
“Yes, sir.” Harmon had been hunched over his workstation, monitoring the damage control reports, watching for anything the admiral needed to see. “I have General Cain on your line, sir.”
“Hello Terrance.” Cain spoke up before Compton had the chance. Most of the people Compton would speak to over the next few days would congratulate him on his victory, but not Erik Cain. The dour Marine knew, perhaps more than anyone, what Compton was feeling now…sadness, guilt, regret. The last thing he needed was more platitudes and backslaps on his strategic brilliance. “I’m sorry the losses were so high. Your people put up a tremendous fight, but it always costs more than it should. Doesn’t it?”
Compton sighed. “Yes, it does.” He paused then added, “And Erik…thanks.” Cain didn’t answer; no response was needed. “In any event, we’ve secured the system, at least for now. How soon can your people be ready to go down?”
Chapter 15
Bridge – AS Indianapolis
System X1
One Transit from Sigma 4
“All vessels, cut thrust immediately.” Mondragon responded instantly to the enemy contact. “The fleet is to assemble at coordinates 373,402,092. All ships are to compute optimal thrust plans and confirm through the flagship before executing.” Concentrating a fleet that was scattered over a cubic lighthour of space with different velocities and headings was an extremely difficult exercise in the best of circumstances. Doing it in the face of the enemy called for expert crews, something most of his ships simply didn’t have.
“Yes, sir.” Tomasino hunched over his workstation, relaying Mondragon’s orders to the rest of the task force.
“Lieutenant Santini, I want you to review and coordinate the incoming thrust plans.” Santini was Faucon’s navigator, but since Mondragon had been put in charge of the task force, she’d become part of the command staff too.
“Yes, captain.” Santini’s response was tentati
ve, hollow. Keeping Faucon on course was one thing, but she’d never done anything remotely like supervising a force of over 40 ships converging to face an enemy fleet.
“Use the AI, lieutenant.” Mondragon understood her concerns, and her limitations as well, but she was all he had. “Run their plans through the navcom and perform a few checks. That’s all you can do.”
“Yes, sir.” She sounded better, but still not convinced. “Awaiting incoming plans for review.”
Mondragon leaned back. He knew she could only give each plan a cursory glance, but any double-check was better than none at all. “Lieutenant Tomasino, prepare to launch a drone back to X1. We have to advise Admiral Jacobs we’ve encountered enemy forces.” I think I can take 7 Gremlins, he thought…I hope I’m right…and that you agree with what I’m doing. “If not,” he whispered to himself in his native Basque, “you can court martial me.” French was the official language of Europa Federalis, and use of the other national and regional tongues was discouraged in rural areas and forbidden outright in the major population centers and in the service. But Mondragon didn’t give a shit. Federalis and its government was far away…and good riddance to the whole corrupt, stinking lot of it.
“Yes, captain.” Tomasino turned and looked over at Mondragon. “Ready for message download now, sir.”
Mondragon nodded and switched his comlink to the drone’s input line. “Admiral Jacobs, I am reporting contact with a group of 7 enemy vessels, conclusively identified as Gremlins.” His eyes glanced down at his screen, subconsciously confirming what he already knew. “I have elected to mass my task force and give battle. I believe we have sufficient strength to defeat this enemy squadron.” He wasn’t at all sure about that, but he was determined to put up a fight. If he ran, it would mean abandoning all his ships that had pushed deeper into the system; they’d never decelerate and get back through the warp gate before the enemy caught them.
