Crimson Worlds Collection II

by Jay Allan

  Now Cain and Storm’s people would end up trapped in the enemy base and exterminated. No one was going to leave this planet. There were just too many of the enemy. She took a deep breath and pulled her rifle out of the harness. If her people were all going to die in the line, by God, she was going to be with them. She turned and followed the path her staff had taken. She’d gone 5 or 6 steps when her com erupted.

  “Attention General McDaniels.” The voice was female, vaguely familiar. “This is General Gilson. Hold your position. I have two brigades inbound now, landing 3 klicks from your position.”

  She felt a surge of relief through her body, and she let out a deep breath. Garret and the rest of the fleet were here. McDaniels stood quietly for a few seconds before responding. “Acknowledged, General Gilson.” She didn’t know what to say next. A million things poured into her mind, but finally she just said, “Welcome to Sigma 4 II, general.”

  Chapter 26

  Bridge – AS Indianapolis

  System X2

  40,000,000 Kilometers from X3 Gate

  Jacobs watched silently on his screen as the First Imperium task force transited. He had all his remaining laser buoys deployed and connected into an extensive scanner network. If everything went well, the enemy would get quite a hot welcome when they transited into X2. His ships were deployed behind the laser screen, at the edge of missile range. Every vessel was on red alert, ready to launch all their missiles at his command and then run for their lives. The enemy ships were coming in fast, and Jacobs’ tiny force was no match for them. Still, he’d initially planned to put up more of a sustained fight, ignoring the mismatched odds. Admiral Compton had put an end to that plan. The fleet admiral OK’d the missile attack, but he’d explicitly ordered Jacobs to button everyone into the couches immediately after launching and blast away at full thrust.

  Jacobs had ordered all ships and laser buoys to concentrate fire on the enemy Leviathans. The monster battleships were over twice the size of an Alliance Yorktown and vastly more powerful. They could absorb a lot of damage, and their defense arrays were extremely powerful. Catching them as they came through the warp gate would be the best chance to inflict heavy damage…before they could close with Compton’s fleet and unleash their own fearsome weapons.

  But things weren’t going as planned. Jacobs felt his heart sink as Gremlin after Gremlin passed through the warp gate and into the X2 system. They’re sending the screen through first, he thought with frustration…by God, they’re learning their tactics from us!

  “Fourteen enemy Gremlins have transited, admiral.” It was as if Carp was reading his mind. “No sign of heavier units yet.” Carp turned his head and looked expectantly at Jacobs.

  The admiral knew he had to make a decision. The laser buoys packed a tremendous punch…they had more than enough firepower to take out the Gremlins, especially with Jacobs’ missile barrage to finish off any survivors. But the x-ray lasers were wasted on the smaller ships. They were one of the Pact’s few weapons powerful enough to seriously damage a large enemy vessel.

  “Enemy ships are moving at a slower velocity than projected sir.” Carp’s voice cut through his concentration. “And decelerating at 60g.”

  Jacobs’ head snapped up. That was a surprise, though maybe, he thought, it shouldn’t be. “They don’t want to just whip past us.” His words started as a whisper, but the volume increased as he continued. “That fleet is here to engage and destroy our forces.” His mind was racing. As big as the enemy fleet was, it wasn’t strong enough to wipe out both Compton’s and Garret’s fleets…and the enemy had to have a rough idea of the total human strength from the Line battles. “Prepare a message for Admiral Compton.”

  Carp paused for a second, a confused look on his face. Then he spun around and worked his controls. “You may begin when ready, admiral.”

  “Admiral Compton, it is my opinion that the enemy fleet reported by Captain Mondragon is not the only force en route to this system.” He paused…he was taking a massive leap here, one he had no evidence to support. But he’d never felt as sure of anything in his life. “As Captain Cleret has reported no activity in X4, I believe there may be a second force behind this one, deeper in the X3 system.” Of course Captain Cleret still hadn’t even managed to find another warp gate in X4, at least as of his last report. The scouting effort in X4 was going much more slowly than Mondragon’s had in X3. Which didn’t surprise Jacobs a bit. “Captain Mondragon’s forces may be unable to report at this time.” Assuming any of them are still alive, he thought…though he kept that to himself.

  He took a quick breath and continued. “I must note that I have no substantial evidence to back up this assertion, except that the enemy appears to be decelerating to give sustained battle.” He paused again, thinking of what else he wanted to add. But finally he just said, “Jacobs out.” He looked over at Carp. “Send that immediately, commander.”

  “Yes, admiral.”

  Jacobs sat for a few seconds, just staring forward. “Lieutenant Hooper, order all ships to commence missile attacks at once.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And order Major Bogdan to launch his squadrons immediately.” A vessel couldn’t launch missiles and fighters simultaneously. A battleship would normally have to launch its fighters before firing missiles or else wait until it had ejected its external racks and restored its bearing. But Jacob’s squadrons were on his 3 makeshift carriers, and they didn’t carry any missiles.

  Without the laser buoys, his fleet was completely outmatched by the enemy task force. But he was going to try to take them out anyway. Without the buoys. Maybe, just maybe…if he could coordinate the missiles and bombers to hit at the same time. Perhaps there was a chance to defeat this advanced force. And even if there wasn’t…it was worth his whole fleet to save those laser buoys for the heavier targets.

  “The fleet will execute 30g thrust in 60 seconds.” Compton was lying down, completely cocooned in his acceleration couch. He hadn’t planned to thrust hard enough to force his crews into the couches, but Jacobs’ message changed his mind. It was a baseless speculation, a wild guess from an officer who’d been at flag rank for less than half a year. And Compton was completely convinced by it.

  It made perfect sense…at least to the fleet admiral. The enemy wasn’t trying to break through to Sigma 4; they were here to destroy as many human ships as they could. The enemy didn’t think like a human commander did. They didn’t care if a fleet was completely destroyed if it did enough damage to serve the strategic purpose.

  If this fight was going to be a battle of annihilation, Compton wanted to fight deeper in the system. With any luck, after the first round he could sandwich the decelerating enemy between his force and the newly arriving units…possibly even Garret’s entire command. Then the united human fleet could turn to face any new enemy forces that arrived.

  If they were able to hold off the First Imperium attacks here, Compton figured they could fortify Sigma 4 or one of the planets in X1, and mount a Line-like defense across the single system bottleneck between human space and the First Imperium. Maybe, just maybe, they could hold that position long enough for Sparks and Hofstader and their people to pull some game changing tech out of the captured enemy ship and base.

  Compton felt the breath pushed from his lungs as Midway’s massive engines fired. The fleet would accelerate halfway to the location Compton had designated. They would go into freefall while Hurley’s squadrons launched, and then they would decelerate, reducing their velocity before entering range of the enemy. Compton needed his fleet at a dead halt to effectively deploy the x-ray laser buoys, and without those powerful weapons he didn’t have a chance in the energy duel.

  He was thinking about Mike Jacobs, too…and all the people on his ships. He’d ordered Jacobs to retreat after he fired his missiles, but now Scouting Fleet’s commander was planning to face the enemy vanguard without using his laser buoys. He was still following the original plan, more or less. But now
his fighters would be deployed, which meant he had to retrieve them somehow. Jacobs insisted he could scatter his fleet and work around the enemy task force, landing his fighters and getting out of range before he got hurt too badly. Compton wasn’t too sure, it sounded like a lot of conjecture to him. But it didn’t matter. He agreed with Jacobs – they had to hold those laser buoys to hit the heavy enemy ships when they were transiting, and he was willing to risk Jacobs’ fleet to do it. He wasn’t sure he’d have ordered Jacobs to do it, but the erstwhile admiral had asked for the go ahead. Compton didn’t like it, but he’d given the OK anyway. If Jacob’s laser buoys could target the enemy heavy units rather than the Gremlins, it would make a big difference in the battle. The main enemy line would have damage before the battle lines even exchanged fire. Those first shots could be enormously important.

  His eyes had been watching the chronometer count down…5 seconds…4, 3, 2, 1. Now he felt the massive gee forces slamming into him, and he struggled to force breath into his lungs. He felt partial relief almost immediately, as his system increased the air pressure in his helmet, adjusting to partially offset the acceleration. He was trying to stay focused, but he knew his mind would begin to wander and the line between fantasy and reality would blur. Once again, he thought before lucidity retreated…once more into battle.

  “All units, maximum deceleration now.” Bogdan was in his acceleration couch, held firmly in place. The verbal order to the squadrons was more for the benefit of his crews – and himself – than any real need. With everyone buttoned up in the couches, the AIs were flying the bombers…and the machines already knew what they were doing.

  Bogdan’s craft had accelerated full more than halfway to their projected attack point; now they were reducing their speed, allowing the missile volley from Jacobs’ fleet to pass them. If all went according to plan, they’d ride in on the coattails of the missiles, avoiding most of the enemy defensive fire.

  He had 31 bombers, each one with a veteran crew…and every one of them double loaded with plasma torpedoes. They’d be going in right behind the missiles, trying to target the ships worst damaged by the nuclear detonations. Then they’d have to get out…and do it quickly. Jacobs had launched a second spread of missiles, flushing his ships’ magazines. Bogdan wanted his craft well out of the combat zone before those nukes started blowing.

  Bogdan couldn’t help by admire Jacobs’ battle plan. A first wave of missiles, screening his bombers and causing enough damage to create vulnerable targets for the plasma torpedoes. Then a second missile attack, which would be crossing the point defense zone while the enemy was fighting off Bogdan’s attack. It’s just possible, Bogdan thought…maybe Jacobs can really take out this whole force without using the laser buoys. But his optimism didn’t last. Even with a strong plan, the mathematics of war in space were inescapable. Without a miracle, some of these Gremlins were going to survive the long-ranged attacks…and then they’d tear Jacobs’ cruisers apart with particle accelerators before he got a chance to close to laser range. The buoys had been designed to offset that mismatch, but Jacobs had forgone using his.

  “Approaching link up zone.” The bomber’s AI made the announcement. Bogdan was startled at first; the meeting point was over an hour from where they’d begun deceleration, and it seemed that only a few minutes had passed. But as the AI-administered stimulant cleared his head, he realized an hour had indeed passed while he was in his drug-induced state.

  He sat up in his chair, twisting his head, working the kinks out. “Pilot taking over.” He reached out, grabbing the controls as the AI relinquished the flying duties to him. “Attention all craft.” He was speaking into the com, transmitting on the force-wide line. “I want everyone at 150% for this attack. If you think you need another stim, take one now.” He looked down, checking the tactical display. He smiled broadly. The strike force was in perfect formation.

  “All units. Perform final weapon system diagnostics and arm plasma torpedoes.” It was almost time.

  Jacobs was sitting on the bridge, watching the scanning report from his missile barrage. The enemy point defense had been effective, knocking out two-thirds of the incoming warheads, but the surviving missiles were performing far beyond his expectations. One Gremlin had already been destroyed, caught between two 500 megaton explosions each less than a kilometer away. Another four enemy vessels had taken significant damage, and half the others suffered minor hits.

  Now it was his turn. The enemy barrage was almost through his own defensive zone. At least half the approaching missiles had been destroyed, and his shotguns were still firing full, whittling down the incoming volley. Still, his ships were going to take a lot of damage…that was basic math. They should survive it, most of them at least, as long as none of those warheads were antimatter-armed. As far as Jacobs knew, no Gremlin the Pact had yet faced had been antimatter-equipped, but he also realized that guaranteed exactly nothing.

  “Lead missiles entering detonation zone.” Carp knew Jacobs was completely aware of the enemy missiles’ location, but it was his job to advise him anyway.

  Both the First Imperium and the human powers utilized missiles in the same basic manner. The goal was to get the warheads as close as possible to an enemy vessel and then detonate them. Missiles were intended to score near misses, not direct hits. It was almost impossible to accurately target something as small as a spaceship from hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, especially when the target was exerting random thrust in an evasive pattern.

  Nuclear explosions in space were obviously dangerous to anything nearby, though the effective zone was far smaller than it would be in an atmosphere. A weapon that would carry deadly shockwaves and heat 10 kilometers on a planetary surface might be truly dangerous only out 1-2 klicks in space.

  The First Imperium had better targeting systems, but they were susceptible to human ECM and more easily confused by truly random maneuvering. Overall, the two sides were fairly evenly matched in missile duels. Unless the enemy had antimatter warheads.

  “Detonations, captain.” Carp was bent over his workstation, as usual. “All standard nuclear warheads so far.”

  Jacobs sighed softly. He hadn’t really expected antimatter weapons from the Gremlins, but it was good to be sure. “Very well, commander. All damage reports as they come in.” He knew there would be a lot of them.

  “Kooshi govno ee oomree!” Bogdan’s shouted with a laugh, wondering how much indigestion he’d just given the translation AI. The shot had been perfect, a bullseye. The Gremlin had been hit hard by Jacobs’ missiles, and a secondary explosion had blown a ten meter-wide hole in the hull. Hitting a 10-meter target in space combat was like splitting an arrow, but Bogdan had landed his torpedo dead center. The stricken enemy ship was bursting open like a hatching egg. There were massive internal explosions and vast plumes of internal gasses blasting into space. “That’s one fucker down!”

  Pavel Bogdan was a hardened veteran, calm and professional in the face of the enemy. But he was a true fighter pilot at heart…a tracker, a hunter. There was nothing more exhilarating to him than the kill, and that went double when fighting these scum-sucking robot ships. In his wars against other humans, he’d been just as driven, but victory was always tempered with respect for those who fell under his guns. But fighting this enemy felt more like exterminating vermin. There was no pity, no mercy, no hesitation.

  His crew was cheering too, watching the enemy ship’s death struggle on the monitor. The strike force was ripping through the enemy fleet, blasting straight at their targets and firing at point blank range. They paid a price for their aggressiveness…10 bombers were destroyed by close in point defense. But 19 of the remaining 21 scored solid hits. Six Gremlins had been completely destroyed, and all the rest had at least some damage. Bogdan counted four cripples among the survivors, ships so badly damaged he doubted they could have much offensive capacity to hurt Jacobs’ fleet.

  “Well done. We earned our pay today, my comrades.” Bogdan
’s voice roared on the force-wide com line. There were only 63 of them left, on 21 surviving ships, but they had done their duty. “Now it’s time to get back to base before these bastards pull themselves together and start shooting at us again. All craft, prepare for full thrust.”

  Yes, he thought…we earned our pay today, he thought with satisfaction. But he knew the day wasn’t over yet.

  Compton took a deep breath, then another, enjoying the absence of crushing pressure. The fleet had been at 30g for almost eight hours, with just a short break to launch Hurley’s strike force. He pulled himself upright. His muscles were stiff and sore, but his mind was clear. He owed that to the double dose of stims.

  “Status report, Commodore Harmon.”

  His aide was already bolt upright and working furiously at his controls. Well, Compton thought, he’s a lot younger than me.

  “The main enemy force has completed transit, sir. They have continued decelerating. Current estimate is they will enter missile range in approximately 45 minutes.” Harmon paused, checking his other readouts. “Admiral Jacobs’ ships have withdrawn away from the enemy approach vector and are conducting emergency repairs.”

  Compton allowed himself a fleeting smile. Admiral Jacobs had earned his stars and then some. His combined missile and bomber attack had savaged the enemy vanguard, and a second sortie by his battered bomber wings had taken out all the survivors. Compton hadn’t been sure Jacobs’ people could handle the entire enemy force, not without using their laser buoys. They’d done it, though…and Jacobs still had 3 or 4 cruisers in good enough shape to get back in the fight if they were needed.

  Scouting Fleet’s bomber force had given its all. Only 13 of its 42 original craft were still functional. Pavel Bogdan’s wasn’t one of them. He’d taken a hit on the second sortie, and the cockpit erupted in flames. Somehow he’d managed to give first aid to his two crew members and engage the AI before passing out from the pain. He was in Borodino’s sickbay, horribly burned, with no better than a 50/50 chance of survival.