Admiral's War Part Two (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 10)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “If the locals want a taste of our torpedoes, the commander of our fighter force can deal with it when they move toward him. No. We’ll let the commanders on the ground deal with it as it comes. They can see a plot just as easily as I can,” Janeski said firmly.

  “And if they try relieving their Cruiser force?” asked the Fleet Operation Officer.

  “Benson doesn’t need me telling him how to do his job,” Janeski said, referring to Reclamation Fleet Cruiser screen facing down the locals outside the jammer field, “although he might be able to use a little support. Good suggestion, Ops. I want another mixed force of fighters and bombers, the same as the last wave, launched to support Benson and the screen.”

  The General Fleet Operations and Fighter Operations officers exchanged glances before Fleet Operations turned back to the Admiral, “We can do that, Sir.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Janeski asked reprovingly.

  The Provincials only thought they’d seen what a real space war looked like. They hadn’t—but they were about to.

  Chapter Thirty-six: Kling and the Light Relief Force

  “Main Imperial fighter force…no reaction, Commodore,” reported Sensors.

  “They didn’t take the bait. Too bad,” Kling said with a twinge of disappointment.

  “It increases the odds of this force doing anything meaningful, sir,” reminded his XO, “that has to count for something.”

  “Oh, I know that. And it does, Pablo,” Kling replied to his Executive Officer, “but I sold this operation to the Admiral on the premise that we might be able to divert those fighters and, as you can see for yourself, there wasn’t not so much as a twitch.”

  “A problem for another day. Besides, if I may be so bold, given a drop in your future reputation or the chance to pound some closet Imperials into scrap metal which one would you choose?” asked the XO.

  “Oh, I’m ready to fight, Pablo,” Kling said coldly, “it’s just that this closes off our chance to run back into the jammer field, duck and weave, and in general do what it is that Corvettes and Destroyers do best: use their speed and maneuverability to the maximum.”

  “The boys and girls want to fight too,” the XO said flatly, “let us at them, sir.”

  “You’ll get your chances,” Kling vowed, turning to bridge at large, “full burn toward LeGodat’s force. We had time to lick our wounds and now it’s time to get to the Perseverance and the rest of our ships stuck back in it!”

  Chapter Thirty-seven: LeGodat’s Price

  “Hold!” the Commodore barked as the ship shook from yet another hit that punched through their increasingly paper thin shields. “We’ve got to stay on position another forty five seconds to cover Beta Squadron before we can pull back!”

  “Roll the ship and tell the portside to light them up with a broadside as they see them,” ordered Stravinsky.

  “I’ve got a Destroyer coming in from above our formation at three quarters speed; she’s damaged and dropping escape pods like they’re going out of style,” reported Sensors in an elevated voice.

  The ship shuddered again and then she turned to bring her broadside to bear on the enemy squadron. Lasers thundered into the lead enemy ship, breaking her shields and punching a hole through her nose—which immediately belched a flash of fire before the fire disappeared and it started venting unlit gases.

  A cheer broke out on the bridge of the Little Gift. “Take that, Reclamation Fleet!” screamed a crewwoman in the sensor pit.

  “That’ll teach them to come into Easy Haven,” an assistant navigator said with satisfaction as the enemy warship immediately flared its engines and retreated.

  “Steady on, people. This battle is far from over,” Stravinsky ordered.

  “Commodore LeGodat! Echo squadron is pulling back from its position in the line,” reported Tactical.

  “What they’re pulling back early? Com-section, someone get their commander on the horn and tell them to stay put until ordered otherwise,” snapped LeGodat.

  “I have their Squadron Commander on the line, Sir. He says it’s a no go, their ships are being hammered and they have to pull back,” reported the com-tech handling the transmission.

  “Put him through!” cried the Commodore.

  “Commodore LeGodat this is ComCap Franklin Littlefoot of the New Martian Defense League. I’m sorry to disappoint but—“

  “Listen up, ComCap, because I don’t have a lot of time. You are going to hold your former position for another two minutes before pulling back, or so help me New Mars 43 won’t just have the Imperials to worry about if they win. If they lose you’ll have me and the entire Confederation Fleet! Get back in formation,” he shouted.

  The ComCap glared at LeGodat for a short moment before nodding jerkily. “Every loss in my squadron will be on your head then,” he snapped.

  “This is war, ComCap—deal with it,” roared LeGodat.

  “Best you never run across me in a bar of duty, Commodore!” the other man snarled, cutting the transmission with a savage gesture but the ships of his squadron started to move back into position.

  “I’m getting a strange sensor contact from that Destroyer, Sir!” reported Sensors. “It matches the strange contacts reported by Commodore Kling right before the enemy activated their stealth jammer drone.”

  “Sir, the relief force from the main fleet is almost—” reported an assistant Tactical Officer.

  “I don’t have time for that!” LeGodat said sharply. “New orders to Alpha squadron and the entire Cruiser flotilla: tell them to immediately saturate the area around that Destroyer with everything they’ve got!”

  Chapter Thirty-eight: Imperial Cruiser Command

  “Vice Admiral Benson, we’re detecting an anomaly in the enemy formation,” reported First Lieutenant Alisha Sands his Flag Staff Tactical Officer.

  “Show me what have you, Alisha,” Benson immediately walked over to her console. Sands had been recruited right out of an SDF academy in the 28th Provincial, which only made her half an Imperial and on top of that she was so young she looked like she was still in middle school but for all of that she had one of the sharpest minds he’d ever seen.

  He looked down at the screen, where one of the enemy squadrons seemed to have wavered. They were pulling back out of the enemy’s formation before the other side’s commander had been able to send in another group of ships from his reserve and then, for some reason, it had stopped moving entirely.

  “Recommend we send in the entire reserve we have so far, Admiral Benson,” Alisha said crisply. “If we move now we can time it with Operation Stalking Horse, the Destroyer which is almost close enough to activate its Nervous Nellies. It’ll be close timing thanks to that light task group of reinforcements on the way, but we’re going to keep growing in strength faster than they are. I think we can manage to crack them open and put them on the run now instead of later.”

  Benson stared at the screen, iron-faced, before nodding in approval, “Do it.”

  The Cruiser squadron in the provincials’ advance scouting force they’d all but destroyed had been one of his. It was time for the enemy to share his pain.

  Chapter Thirty-nine: Fighters Move In

  “Sir, it’s growing increasingly hot over there for the Commodore,” reported Lieutenant Commander Hammer as her face popped up on my screen.

  “I’ve been following the action in real time, Captain. I’m well aware the situation is starting to spiral out of control,” I said unhappily, glancing back and forth between her and the main screen.

  “Thankfully you sent out that reinforcement group,” she replied. “They can use all the help they can get right now.”

  “Hopefully,” I agreed absent mindedly, “just so long as he can lure them into the kill box, that’s all I ask of him.”

  “Enemy fighter groups have just entered the jammer field and are now at extreme attack range,” reported the flag bridge Assistant Tactical Officer, her voice sounding a bit parched. />
  I made a silent note to send her over a glass of water after things calmed down a bit. “I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for the Commodore. Right now we must look to ourselves,” I said to the Captain.

  “You flagship is ready for combat, Admiral,” Hammer said formally.

  I nodded, looking at the screen and then lifted my hands. “Prepare to drop the jammer field between us and the enemy and engage preselected targets on my mark…” I commanded, rising from my chair. “Ready…ready…now! Drop the field and Fire!”

  “Shutdown order sent to all designated jammers,” exclaimed the com-tech in control of the jammer field.

  “Relaying orders via whisker lasers to the other ships now, Sir,” reported another tech.

  “Weapons are free. I say again: weapons free. All gunners take aim at your targets and prepare to fire as the jamming clears,” ordered the Assistant Tac-Officer.

  “All ships have acknowledged the order to fire,” reported Comm.

  “Targeting sensors are clear—I say again: we have hard lock on all enemy fighters. Fire! Fire! Fire!” exclaimed the Assistant Tactical Officer in a rising voice.

  There was a momentary pause as the Battleships of the amalgamated fleet waited for the jamming interference to subside. Then, in a rolling wave, every ship in formation belched fire and fury at the enemy fighters.

  “We’re getting a few hits, Sir, but our longer-ranged weapons are meant for capital ship targets and not for swatting fighters out of cold space,” reported Hammer.

  “Wait until they close to within close attack range and then bring back up the most extreme line of jammers behind them. Not all of them—just the ones in that line. Let’s see if we can’t form a little bubble where only the fighters and us can see each other,” I ordered.

  “Sir, they’re already starting to take out the jammer buoys along their path,” protested Hammer, “bringing back up those jammers isn’t risk-free—it could interfere with our targeting sensors.”

  “The jammer section will just have to compensate for it as best they can. Besides, they should be close in by then,” I said indifferently. If it worked we could hit them with our pop-up missile launchers, and if it didn’t and interfered with our targeting instead…that was just the breaks.

  No one won anything without assuming a little risk.

  Chapter Forty: Right up their sterns and fleeing the scene of the crime!

  “Message to all members of Task Force Firestorm, the word is damn the torpedoes and right up their sterns,” Kling said with a forward chopping motion of his hand, “all ships are to break formation and make their best speed toward the enemy.”

  “Sir, the enemy has yet to showcase any torpedoes in this particular region of the battlefield,” said his XO his brow wrinkling.

  “I don’t have time for handholding, Pablo. Coms, the order is to attack the enemy and relieve the Cruiser force—relay it!” Kling snapped. “Helm, take the Perseverance to full burn on the engines. Let’s get into knife range and stay there!”

  The Corvettes and Destroyers of Firestorm burned for all they were worth, driving toward the swirling disaster that was slowly encompassing the entire Amalgamated Cruiser Force.

  “Come on!” urged Kling.

  They had to get there in time and do so before the enemy—which was now both inside and out of the Cruiser formation and had managed to cripple LeGodat’s engines. Without the ability to maneuver, whatever plan the Admiral had entrusted to the Confederation Commodore would be null and void.

  “One hundred and ten percent on the engines,” he instructed. They had to go faster!.

  ****************************************************

  LeGodat’s people had managed to cripple the Destroyer and knock her out before she could reach the main formation of Cruisers. They even succeeded in destroying the majority of her jammer drones with saturation fire before they could get into close range. However, the little things were nearly impossible to find. They were mobile and moving at the speed of an amputated slug and one of the drones had finally slipped through, right into the starboard side of his formation.

  As soon as it did, the enemy attacked the weakened point caused by Echo’s hysteria and slipped the two squadrons right into the center of LeGodat’s formation.

  All hope of holding the enemy for another five or ten minutes until all of their reinforcements had arrived had just gone out the window when his formation broke. They had to retreat and they had to do it now because if the enemy stayed where they were he was going to lose the majority of his warships.

  Now he just needed to figure out how to get those Cruisers out of his formation before they wrecked the engines of every Cruiser in the Amalgamate fleet!

  “Commodore, we’re taking heavy fire, Sir,” reported Stravinsky as the ship bucked from yet another hit.

  “Of course we’re getting hit, Commander. The Gift has to be the largest heavy Cruiser on the battlefield. She’s nearly the size of a Battleship,” he snapped.

  “What I mean is we can’t take too much more of this before our combat power is going to significantly degrade…sir,” she said with a look of impatient long-sufferance.

  “Don’t get weak in the knees on me now, Commander,” he said harshly before turning away. “Helm, send the Little Gift right into the middle of those enemy squadrons,” he started pointing toward the enemy ships in the middle of his formation, “we’re going to force them—”

  “I’m reading multiple Cruisers exiting the enemy jammer field. They’re our Cruisers, sir, and…” the sensor officer paused, his rising excitement suddenly taking a downward turn, “and they’re scattering in every direction. Some of them are heading back toward Wolf-9 and others for what looks to be the hyper limit, Sir!”

  “What?” LeGodat snapped, looking back at the battle plot, “No!”

  “Sir, I’m getting a hail from Commodore Kling. He says they have arrived, Sir,” reported Coms.

  Moments later, the leading edge of the light forces of Task Force Firestorm slammed into the side of the enemy nearest the port side penetration.

  “Yes!” LeGodat declared, clenching his fist. “That should help take the pressure off. Helm, belay my last order. And Coms, tell those starboard Cruisers to get back here before they’re slaughtered by the enemy—they are to rejoin the formation. Tell them that reinforcements have arrived and you,” he pointed to another tech, “tell everyone else it’s time to fall back. The light forces are going to cover our retreat.”

  “We’re just going to pull back like that?” Stravinsky asked as the bridge went into a flurry of action, relaying orders and readying the ship.

  “We have a greater mission—one which cannot be accomplished if we’re all dead,” LeGodat replied.

  “Shouldn’t you notify Kling and let him know what we’re doing?” Stravinsky asked.

  “He’ll see what we’re doing soon enough, and any of them that survive that attack have the legs to catch up with us soon,” he said.

  “That’s cold, Sir,” she said disapprovingly.

  “I don’t have the time right now to hold his hand—or yours, Commander, so get back on task,” LeGodat said shortly. “If we miss this window while the enemy are confused by Firestorm’s attack then everything we have fought for here will be lost. Get it together, woman.”

  “Aye-aye, Sir,” she said with a bite to her voice, but she turned back to do her job.

  “I’m now designating all units which can do so to achieve separation and move toward a new rendezvous point. Point Zeta,” he instructed, picking up a slate, eyeballing it, and then jotting down a good-looking point with his stylus, “relay this now!”

  “Got it, sir,” said the tech.

  “Come on. Come on,” LeGodat muttered, looking toward the area where Kling and his Corvettes were making an attack run. The enemy was moving to interdict him before he could hit the enemy Cruisers, causing LeGodat all his current troubles. For his plan to work, Kling and
his Task Force had to get through.

  ****************************************************

  “Pard’s Pride is gone and King of the Hill just lost power. I have six more ships reporting minor or major damage,” reported Damage Control as the Engineer on duty on the bridge sorted through the automated updates relayed automatically to his console from the comm. department.

  “Sir, I have two enemy Destroyer squadrons moving to cut us off,” reported Tactical.

  “We can make it if we keep our speed up to maximum,” Kling said with a degree of certainty he wasn’t entirely feeling, “but it’s going to be close. Full power to our port shields, rob Peter to pay Paul if you have to—and Helm, keep that face pointed toward those Destroyers.”

  “Will do, Sir,” said the Helm.

  “On it, Commodore Kling,” said the Shield Operator.

  “This is gonna be close!” Pablo said in a rising voice as every enemy Destroyer in two squadrons seemed like they were targeting the flagship.

  “Helm—” started Kling.

  “Evasive maneuvers!” warned the Helmsman moments after throwing the Corvette into a corkscrew, cutting him off.

  “Keep at it and don’t wait for my order, Helm,” Kling barked, looking back at the screen as five of the nine Destroyers surged forward while the other four suddenly turned to present their broadsides.

  The weight of fire instantly went from dangerous to un-survivable.

  Right beside the flagship, a Destroyer took a full broadside from three Destroyers simultaneously. It shuddered, seeming to pause momentarily in space, and then exploded spectacularly.

  Not ignored in the least, the Perseverance took a trio of blows that knocked her shields down entirely before another shot punched right through her hull.

  “The auxiliary control booth just took a direct hit—it’s gone, sir!” reported Damage control. “I’m also seeing reports that we just lost half our port weaponry.”