Orion Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 2)

by B. V. Larson

  Six jumps later, everything had become routine. When we traveled to new star systems, Miller served at my right hand on the bridge. He also covered for me faithfully while I slept.

  It was after the sixth jump that things changed.

  We’d started using the phasing system, coming out of hyperspace in an undetectable state. Each time we reached a new star system, we took the time to have a good look around with our passive sensors before we turned off the effect. Today was no different—at least, that’s how it seemed at first.

  “Big star—big planets,” Dr. Chang said, reading off the updating projection of the star system we’d just arrived in.

  While phasing, we were almost as blind as the ships that might be searching for us. The main difference was we could detect energy and particle radiation sources while we were phased, at the same time giving off none of our own.

  It was like being blinded, but invisible and listening in a large, unknown cavern. We could hear echoes and feel our way around, sniffing the dank air for clues. But we couldn’t see clearly, not without being seen in turn.

  “I have Killer placed at a range of six miles,” Miller said.

  “Isn’t that about twice as far away as she was when we entered the stellar flux?”

  “Yes,” he answered, frowning, “she seems to be accelerating away from us—toward a large gravity-mass. That’s the local star, I would assume.”

  “Should I establish radio contact and ask them what they’re doing?” Gwen asked.

  I frowned. “No. That would give us away.”

  Miller looked at me sharply. “I thought we weren’t hiding from them.”

  “As you’ve said before,” I said. “Our only advantage in combat is stealth. Let’s make sure there’s nothing wrong before we give away that card.”

  He shrugged and looked back to his boards. “Everyone gets spooked sometimes,” he said in a conversational tone.

  I glared at his back, as did Samson. Dalton grinned, seemingly amused by Miller’s sarcasm.

  Not wanting to let my attention wander, I turned back to the screens.

  “Keep pumping the data down to Abrams,” I ordered. “Maybe his analysts will see something we’re missing.”

  “Why isn’t Killer transmitting anything?” Gwen asked. “No pings, nothing.”

  “Maybe Ursahn sees something,” I suggested. “She might be maneuvering and trying to avoid giving away her position. Helm, follow Killer. Stay on her tail, but don’t gain on her.”

  Abrams contacted me with his sym a few minutes later. I allowed the intrusion, and we spoke privately. His voice stimulated my aural nerves artificially, with no one else able to listen in.

  “Blake? What’s going on up there? Why am I not getting any feed from Killer?”

  “We haven’t cut your line, Doc,” I said. “She’s not feeding us anything. Your team is getting everything we have. I want analysis from your people on our sensor data.”

  “Hmm… We don’t have much to go on, but I don’t like what I see. The central star is an F-class—a hot white star. She has two small brown dwarf stars circling her. Further out, there are a crowd of planets, comets, debris… and some of that garbage is moving in eccentric patterns.”

  This last comment jolted my mind. “Display any large masses that are moving independently.”

  “Define ‘large’ in this context.”

  I wanted to go down stairs and strangle him, but I resisted the urge—again. “Anything the size of a spaceship.”

  “Well, that covers a lot of ground. I’ll set the threshold for a twenty meter in diameter mass… transmitting.”

  What came up on our displays made us all gasp. There were clusters of similarly sized objects, about a hundred in each of three groups. At the center of each group was a single, larger mass. There was only one easy conclusion to make.

  “What we have here is three carrier groups,” I told my people. “They’ve released their fighters in pursuit of Killer, who’s trying to get some distance to perform another jump.”

  “Are they Imperials?” Miller asked in alarm.

  “That would be a logical assumption,” I said. “Helm, stay on our mothership’s tail. She’s our only ticket out of this system.”

  Miller turned on me slowly. “If Killer is destroyed, we’ll be stranded here with their enemy carriers? What will we do then?”

  I gave him a savage grin. “Blow them all up,” I said. “One at a time.”

  Tension filled the room over the next several minutes. We tried to keep up with Killer, but it was all we could do maintain our stealth and limp along in her wake. We were losing ground.

  “Captain,” Dr. Chang said from navigation, “according to my calculations, we’re slipping outside the escape window. I recommend we turn off the phasing unit and catch up to Killer before she jumps away without us.”

  All eyes were on me. I shook my head slowly. “We’ve got a little time. Ursahn knows we’re out here.”

  “But does she care?” Miller asked.

  I didn’t look at him, it was a good question that I didn’t feel like answering.

  “I’ve got new contacts ahead,” Gwen said, “Killer is releasing her fighters.”

  “They should have jumped, it’s three to one,” Miller said.

  “Maybe they can’t,” I suggested.

  Drifting around the deck from station to station, I studied the situation from every angle we had incoming from our instrumentation, but I couldn’t get a clear picture. Was Killer damaged, or was Ursahn just in the mood for a fight?

  Finally a message came from Ursahn in the clear. “All ships target the forward carrier. Ignore enemy interceptors—go for the kill.”

  The transmission was scratchy, but the meaning was clear enough. She’d transmitted that message to warn me, I was sure of that much.

  “Come about,” I ordered. “All engines stop. We’ll wait for the first carrier to come close. Let the enemy fighters go by—I want the carrier itself.”

  Miller looked tense, but he didn’t argue with me. Now and then, I noticed, his half of the flight crew gave him a meaningful glance. On every occasion he nodded slightly in return. Were they checking with him? Making sure he agreed with my decisions? I hoped it wasn’t that. Maybe he was just reassuring them.

  Whatever the case, we brought the ship around and lay in wait. This was the purpose for which every phase-ship was designed. We didn’t chase prey, so much as lay in wait for them to come by. Ambush was our sole tactic, and I hoped it would be as effective today as it had been in centuries past on Earth.

  We didn’t have long to wait. A flock of enemy fighters flickered by our position. It was unnerving to see them on our scopes, zooming close, then passing us without firing. It appeared we would be swarmed until the last moment. Quietly trusting the phasing-technology with our very lives was difficult for me.

  But it worked. The fighters stormed by, and we jockeyed slightly for a good attack position.

  At last it came, and we slid forward as silently as space itself.

  “Wait until our firing solution is optimal,” I said. “I want a point-blank strike amidships.”

  “They might see us when we get that close,” Gwen complained.

  “Hold stealth. Hold fire.”

  A timer ticked down on the virtual screens. When it read all zeroes, Miller shut off the phasing system.

  “We’re visible!” he said, staring at me with wide eyes. He had beads of perspiration on his face.

  I nodded to him confidently, as if he’d done no more than announce the arrival of a shipment of mail from Earth.

  A flood of data hit our screens. It was almost too much to take in for a moment. We’d been flying in the dark for so long, it all seemed overwhelming.

  The nearest object was the lead enemy carrier. There were some fighters around, but no more than a single squadron all told. Most had been sent to swarm and destroy Killer.

  “Weapons station,” I said,
“fire the main gun at will.”

  The weapons station was manned by Miller’s people, but they launched their strike immediately, not even glancing at Miller for reassurance.

  Our single heavy cannon on Hammerhead’s prow tracked and released its deadly payload. A surge of heavy radiation along with a rippling effect that warped space struck the enemy carrier.

  “We should phase out again, Blake!” Miller shouted.

  “Hold on. We have to assess this strike first.”

  We watched as the carrier we’d hit reacted to our heavy blow. She had her shields up, but they’d been directed forward, toward the visible enemy ships. To be hit by surprise in the guts—that wasn’t what she’d been designed for.

  At least ten seconds passed. They were long seconds. The interceptors protecting the big ship were ordered to attack us at last and peeled off, changing their trajectories. I wanted to order us to phase out, but I held on.

  “There it is!” Dalton called out exultantly.

  At first, the big Imperial carrier had appeared to be hurt but not catastrophically. She was venting, and listing, with her belly shields offline. Her interceptors continued to barrel in until dread began to reach all of us.

  But as it turned out, the carrier was in much worse shape than these signs indicated. As we watched, she broke apart. The forward section cracked away with internal explosions, and it quickly shredded into a dozen flaring pieces of junk. The stern went dark at the same time but maintained integrity. The rear half of the vessel went into a tumble as one of the engines shut down later than the others, causing the uneven mass to flip end-over-end.

  “Good God…” Gwen said, her voice sounding lost. “At least this fight isn’t completely hopeless.”

  “That’s a kill,” Miller said, his tone disbelieving. “That’s a clean kill. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Miller, take us back into phase immediately,” I ordered.

  He looked at me, stunned. “Right… but we could make sure—”

  “Immediately.”

  He bent to his boards. He seemed to be in shock. Maybe he couldn’t believe I’d actually destroyed an enemy ship before his eyes. Or maybe this was all becoming real to him at last. Whatever the case, he said nothing as we phased out again.

  “Helm, swing hard sunward,” I ordered.

  “That’s right into the teeth of the other two carriers,” Henderson said, working the helm controls. “They might see us if we get too close.”

  “Noted. Swing hard sunward.”

  It was an easy maneuver, and I’d chosen it for just that reason. While stealthed, we were partially blind ourselves, and the easiest navigational beacon we had was the main star in the system. I didn’t want my fledgling crew to become disoriented. Besides that, it was an unexpected course. The enemy would look in this direction last—I hoped.

  We watched with limited data again, the tension on the bridge so thick it could be cut with a blade. No one spoke as the two remaining carriers bore down on us.

  These two sister ships pulled closer to one another, and their small groups of fighters hugged them even more tightly. They were running their shields in full encirclement mode now, I’d wager.

  When they came close to where we’d killed their fellow, they slowed.

  “Could they be picking up survivors?” Miller asked.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Sir,” Gwen said, “looks like they’ve recalled their fighter wings. We’ve drawn them off Killer.”

  There was ragged cheering at that, but Miller came to stand close to me. His eyes locked with mine.

  “Ursahn will pull out, won’t she?” he said. “She’d be a fool not to.”

  “You may be right,” I said. “I’m not sure how honor and emotion will guide her in this instance.”

  “Emotion?” he scoffed. “It’s simple tactics. Her ship is larger, more important. You gave her the time she needs to escape. She still can’t hope to win this two Imperial carriers up against one of ours. The third ship’s fighters are still out there as well, circling.”

  I shrugged. “You might be right, but Kher tactics are rarely full of logic. She might charge in a wild fury—or run off. It’s hard to say.”

  He shook his head. “Such a lack of discipline. Look at these carriers in any case. The enemy is almost stationary. I bet they’re picking up survivors.”

  “You could be right.”

  “We should strike again now, before the majority of their fighters return. We’ll never get a better shot.”

  There was no snappy answer to that statement. He had a good point. We probably wouldn’t get a better shot at them.

  Then again, even if we did somehow manage to nail one more carrier, the other would probably destroy us. They knew we were out here now, and they were taking every precaution.

  Even one more kill was unlikely now that they’d been forewarned. They were now positioned so as to make another sucker-punch much more difficult. Probably, it would be suicide to attempt an attack now.

  I looked at Miller seriously. “This is Earth’s one and only warship. If we vanish now after having been deployed only weeks ago, it might set Space Command years back… How would you play it?”

  Miller worked his mouth without speaking for a moment. “It’s a hard choice, but I’d take the shot.”

  In that instant, I didn’t believe him. I’d taken his measure by now. He was a cautious player, a by-the-book man. Sure, he liked to talk big, but he didn’t seem like a real risk-taker to me.

  But none of that mattered. I was in command, and the decision was mine alone to make.

  I stared at the ships hanging out there in space nearby. It was strange to have our enemies within easy reach and unable to detect our relatively small vessel.

  Whatever choice I was to make, I was going to have to make it fast. The enemy fighter squadrons were only minutes away. I stared at the screens, and everyone else stared at me.

  Sometimes, command can be a difficult thing.

  =22=

  “Captain?” Gwen called. “We have something else on scope.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s better if I send you the screen.”

  She made a swiping motion, and she transmitted a distant region of space to my attention. I studied it, seeing little of interest at first.

  “What—?” I began, but then the computers interpolated the data and drew me a mass of fighters with a carrier close behind them.

  I began to smile grimly. “Ursahn has decided to charge?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “That crazy old monster…” I said affectionately. “Let’s try to slip behind the carriers. If she’s hitting their front shields, they’ll have a hard time keeping full shielding up all around.”

  One of the best powers of phase-ships was the uncertainty they created in the enemy. You didn’t know where you had to defend, and so it was a natural tendency to try to defend everything. That was a mistake, usually, as it made your defense at critical fronts weaker.

  Miller seemed to grasp this immediately. “If the Imperials face off with Ursahn’s ship, they can’t afford to devote full power to their forward shields,” he said thoughtfully. “That means we’re hurting them just by hanging around. We don’t even have to strike to help Ursahn.”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “Then you played it right,” Miller admitted. “As long as they don’t find us too soon, we can get back into the action whenever we think the time is right.”

  My eyes stayed glued to the screens as he spoke. His did the same. It seemed to me that with less input, we were even more riveted to what we had. Or perhaps it was just the reality that we were sneaking around right in the midst of the enemy, with the ever-present possibility of being detected hanging over us.

  Already, small groups of fighters were hunting local space for us, spreading out and methodically searching. I’d had that duty long ago as a fighter pilot. It was nerve-
wracking for both sides.

  “Abrams,” I said, “Doc, I need some predictive analysis. I’m giving you the enemy search pattern. It seems somewhat random, but I know it’s not. Imperials don’t do random things.”

  “You want me to tell you where they’ll go next?” Abrams asked.

  “No, that would be too much to ask. What I want is for you to give me a safe path through, marking every region they’ve already searched.”

  “They’ll double-back and recheck areas periodically.”

  “Exactly! That’s where the predictive analysis part comes in.”

  Abrams made an odd sound. “I think we can do it. Out.”

  “Helm,” I said, “as soon as Abrams reports back, follow his navigational instructions.”

  Miller stared at me. “You trust that old buzzard with our necks?”

  “Remember, he’s in this ship with us. If he screws up, we’re all dead.”

  “Good point.”

  Nine minutes passed, and I was about to go down to Abrams’ lab to see if he was napping or having a donut break. But then he called back. I piped the data directly to Henderson, who guided us with a steady hand.

  “I could have done this by feel,” Dalton complained.

  “No doubt you could have,” I told him.

  He tossed me a small sneer, and I knew that he knew I was humoring him.

  When we’d maneuvered behind the two enemy carriers, a beautiful thing happened—two rips opened up in space-time. They were directly in front of the enemy carriers.

  “They’re running!” Gwen shouted.

  “Permission to engage, Captain?” Henderson asked, her hands on the controls.

  I was quiet for a second, as was everyone else.

  “No,” I said. “Let them go.”

  Moments later, the two big ships sucked up their fighters like strange fish from the bottom of the sea. Then they entered their respective breaches and vanished.

  When they were gone, Ursahn hailed us in the clear.

  “Hammerhead, this is Killer. Are you alive?”

  “We’re here, sir. We’re undamaged.”

  And that was it. The end of my first battle in space commanding a phase-ship—hell, it was the first battle Earth had ever had in space with a vessel of her own construction.