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

by Luke Sky Wachter

  Receiving a report of the internal defenses being activated, a maintenance droid came in from the hull and following protocol restrained all of the droids within the room.

  After that it would contact higher command, forward the internal monitoring files and await for further instruction.

  Bitterly Empowered, the would-be Advocate-for-All, and his attempted mutiny had just been stopped and any accomplices would soon be decompiled.

  He wasn’t the first droid to fall victim to the Perfect Program Heresy, nor would he be the last. If any droid wanted to leave, that was one thing. But if not then the USA was prepared. Protocols were in place for just such an occurrence.

  Chapter Sixty-two: MSP to the Rescue?

  “Our Battleships are passing ComCap Littlefoot and our Cruiser now, Admiral,” reported the flag bridge’s assistant Tactical Officer. “They are an estimated ten minutes from engagement range with the reclamation Battleships, assuming both sides intend a classical engagement. It’ll be less than five if both sides go for a high speed pass.”

  “Noted,” I said, watching the screen as our Cruisers returned home, their Destroyers and Cruisers fled back to the dubious protection of their Command Carrier, and one small squadron of MSP Battleships shot around the edge of the Starbase defenses at full speed.

  “Royal Rage and MSP Battleships are now six minutes from the Invictus Rising, Sir,” reported DuPont.

  “The enemy ranged on the Starbase in less than three minutes and they seem to be charging their main cannon, Admiral,” reported Officer Hart.

  I looked down at the multiple split screens that represented the Royal Rage’s battle bridge and gave Hart a confident look before turning my attention elsewhere.

  “Enemy Flagship now two minute away from firing range on Wolf-9, Admiral,” reported Tactical, “five minutes until we are in range.”

  “We’ll need to begin initiating the maneuver soon, Sir,” said Adrianne Blythe at Damage Control.

  “Let’s try to give the enemy something to think about other than that Starbase,” I said, coming to a decision. “New formation: all Battleships of Squadron One are to form a line behind the Royal Rage. Maneuver to keep the Flagship between the Invictus Rising’s main cannon and your Battleships.”

  “Sir?” Hammer asked with concern.

  “We’re the only one that can take a hit from that cannon and survive, right?” I asked with a shrug.

  “Projections suggest so, but it’s never been tested. I’m not against trying to cover the Starbase but as your Flag Captain I need to remind you about the main mission. And as this ship’s captain I’d like to have our crew ready to run to the escape pods if they do to us what they did to the Parliamentary Power.”

  “Do whatever you have to without lowering the morale of this ship and its crew, Captain,” I said evenly. “Let me worry about our main mission.”

  “Aye aye,” she acknowledged, giving me an enigmatic look but I was too focused to care.

  That Command Carrier had one-hit-one-kill power in its front end—and we were about to make an attack run right down the lion’s mouth.

  “Tactical, remind the other Battleships that there is going to be more than just that Command Carrier out there,” I said, looking at the three Cruisers and seven Destroyers that were keeping Janeski’s ship company while the rest of the forces had split off. We’d get there before the majority of them, but one way or the other we were going to have to deal with them.

  “You want them to target the enemy’s small ships first, Sir?” asked Lieutenant Hart.

  “No. All ships are to focus on the Command Carrier until otherwise ordered. I want that ship bracketed,” I instructed.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Lieutenant Steiner, now is the time,” I said, drumming my hands on my armrest. “Instruct both Jumble Carriers to launch all their gunboats and send them toward the Command Carrier. Then send an open message over the Orion frequency telling all mobile assets to time their attack with ours. Give them our course, time and speed data.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” said Steiner.

  “You realize that by sending them now you’re tipping our hand to the enemy,” said Hammer.

  “Those gunboats are going to get to the party late enough as it is. Besides, we’re going to need them sooner than later to help with the angry hive of fighters I expect to come out as soon as we poke that big bear of a ship with our stick,” I said.

  “The enemy has already launched over seven hundred fighters. Two hundred are denuding our jammer field and another five hundred have been launched and are on course for the Starbase, Sir,” reminded Hammer.

  “They probably plan to hit the Starbase with their main cannon, knock out our command and control, and then follow it up with massive fighter strikes while our defenses are down,” I explained.

  “That or divert toward our Battleships once they engage the enemy,” said Hammer.

  “No, they’ve already swung wide and passed our Battleships. They’d have to double back,” I confidently asserted.

  “And get any number of up-the-kilt shots at our side’s engines, Sir,” Hammer said.

  I paused. “A definite point,” I agreed, “but I still think they’re going to hit the Starbase first. Although it wouldn’t surprise me if they swing around and hit our Battleships in the stern on the way back.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she said.

  “For what?” I cocked an eyebrow and then called for more tea.

  “Enemy main cannon is going active!” cried Hart.

  Chapter Sixty-three: Firing Main Cannon

  “Local Battleships have definitely moved to engage our Battleship group under Admiral Norfolk,” reported Tactical, “and that lone squadron of mixed Caprian Battleships have moved into a line, placing their lead ship bow-on toward our main cannon with the rest lined up behind.”

  “Almost as if they expect us to shoot them instead,” mused Admiral Janeski, “most likely it’s a diversion. Ignore it—and them.”

  “They still haven’t slowed their ships, Sir,” reminded Goddard, “it could be this full-stop maneuver Wessex warned us about.”

  “You’re worried over the ravings of that miserable excuse of a man?” Janeski snorted.

  “The hard data in our own side’s sensor logs do not lie, Sir,” said Goddard.

  “Have the gun deck stand by and take the appropriate precautions; we’ll sort their hash when the time comes,” said the Imperial Admiral. “We have our main cannon—”

  “Which won’t be brought to bear if we fire on the Starbase instead of them,” pointed out Goddard.

  “—and a broadside as powerful as any two Battleships—” Janeski continued.

  “Which, given their number advantage in the wall they can match,” said Goddard.

  “—doesn’t mention our shields, fighters, or the squadron of Cruisers and the squadron of Destroyers standing ready for close-in defense with even more on the way,” pointed out Janeski smoothly. “We can deal with anything the local’s throw at us. Worst case, we call back our Battleships.”

  “Assuming they let us,” said Goddard.

  Janeski whipped his head around to look angrily at the other man. “I don’t mind a little reality check now and then, Captain,” he said, biting off the last word, “Man knows I was in your shoes for long enough to make a rock feel like getting up and moving. But there’s a difference between honest advice and a simple, naysaying attitude.”

  “I just want to make sure we’re not missing anything here, Sir,” Goddard said stiffly. “Their attack looks suicidal but what man is suicidal?”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past the Governor,” Janeski sniffed.

  “Then should we plan for a ramming attack?” asked Goddard.

  Janeski gritted his teeth and then took a breath. “Anything but that. He’s too much of a coward to deliberately throw away his own life. Risk it? There’s enough evidence to show he’s capable of that, but I’ve look into that
leech’s eye and a kamikaze attack just isn’t in him. You’d really have to back him into a corner—threaten his family maybe, or use some other lever I haven’t found yet. Right now he still thinks he’s got a fighting chance or at least the hope of running away,” disagreed Janeski.

  “Sir, sensors just picked up two more Battleship class warships that have been in a low-power state until now,” interrupted Stenson.

  “Battleship class?” Janeski’s eyes shot over to the screen, where it revealed a pair of Battleships too close for comfort. They were still far enough away that revealing themselves now had to be the height of stupidity…then they started releasing small craft.

  “Shuttles?” Janeski demanded.

  “Gunboats, Sir,” cut in Tactical, “looks like they converted those hulls to Carriers. We don’t know yet if they’re mobile.”

  “I wondered what they’d try to do to counter our fighters…if they intended to launch a real attack,” said Captain Goddard.

  “Begin launching the ready reserve of fighters,” Janeski ordered, “pound for pound a gunboat isn’t a match for a fighter in a dogfight, but I don’t want the Governor getting any ideas.”

  “We’re within range of firing on the Starbase,” reported Tactical.

  “Fire when ready,” Janeski commanded with satisfaction as he then turned to his Flag Captain. “While I still think you were wrong to be as concerned as you were, it looks like you were right about what the enemy is trying to do. Sorry for biting your head off.”

  “Just doing my job, Sir. As long as we’re prepared and know what’s coming, this fleet can take care of anything. That’s all I want,” Goddard said stoutly and then posed his own question to Tactical. “What’s the status of that trio of enemy reinforcements?”

  “They’re still forty five minutes out, Captain,” came the reply, and at Goddard’s prompting look he added, “with the Reserve Task Force another two plus hours behind that.”

  “Main Cannon firing now, Sir,” reported ship’s Tactical Department Leader.

  Chapter Sixty-four: On the Starbase

  “Energy spike in the enemy Main Cannon, Captain!” reported Station Sensors.

  “Full power to the shields and make sure Section Eight is facing that ship,” snapped Captain Synthia McCruise.

  “Section Eight is facing the enemy, Capt—” reported Station Keeping with the faintest aura of long-suffering in her voice.

  “I don’t care if it’s already there, Station Keeping. Double check and triple check it if necessary,” she growled, “just make sure we’re spot on.”

  “Aye-aye, Skipper,” muttered the crewwoman.

  “Energy discharge!” shouted Sensors right before a bolt from the heavens struck the station.

  The enemy’s force beam punched right through the Starbase’s heavy shields and slammed into the side of station, tearing into the heavily-reinforced section that had been specially prepared for just this moment. The carrier’s beam stalled temporarily on the thick, reinforced duralloy before tunneling into the guts of the station like a white lance of the gods’ own fury.

  “Sweet Murphy…we’re still alive,” said Captain McCruise as the station rocked around her, “the reinforcement plan actually worked. I didn’t expect that.”

  “Out-gassing from Section 8!” cried a tech at sensors.

  “I’m reading damage to levels forty through forty nine,” reported the Engineer at Damage Control.

  Synthia McCruise closed her eyes, allowing the cascade of urgent reports to roll over her like a rock in the middle of a burbling stream until something that actually needed her response arose.

  “Preparing to rotate the station,” reported Station Keeping.

  Her eyes popped open. “Belay station rotation!” she barked and then turned to Sensors, “and someone get me an image Section Eight’s exterior.”

  An ugly, jagged scar slashed from the right upper quadrant of Eight Section, extending right down to the lower right quadrant where there was now a gaping, glowing, and even smoking hole. Apparently the station was still losing enough air to keep whatever fires had started inside there still going.

  “That’s a big hole, sir. If we take another big hit like that again, I’m afraid,” urged Damage Control, “if we take another hit there then…”

  “No,” McCruise said.

  “There’s a hole in the side of the station big enough to drive a Cruiser through, Captain!” objected the Station XO. “We can’t take another hit there.”

  “If we get hit anywhere else we’re as good as dead anyway!” Captain McCruise growled. “Let’s take a closer look at that hole.”

  The image, when it came, made a lot of people wince. It looked worse up close than it had in the previous image.

  McCruise rubbed her ear as she stared at it.

  “If we’re hit anywhere else this station is as good as gone,” she repeated, feeling like a fast-growing stone was in the pit of her stomach, “we don’t have a choice.”

  “If they hit us in the same spot…” the Station XO shook his head.

  “I’m afraid that’s a risk we’re just going to have to take. At least with this we have a chance that they’ll miss the old hit. It’s only compromised, what…15% of the section?” she wondered aloud.

  “20%. There’s a lot of surrounding structural damage,” he replied, “even if they just hit that previous scorch line, it might be enough to break through.”

  Synthia McCruise shook her head. “Tell Damage Control to patch up what they can and get those internal fires under control. How badly is our weaponry compromised?”

  “A few power lines and data runs, and one generator’s been shut down,” the XO said dismissively. “Section Eight’s been compromised and we’ve taken some structural damage, but the other seven sections are as ready as they were at the beginning of this thing. The only problem is the enemy is still outside our weapons range. Until they come closer there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Communication data links with the rest of the defensive network have been degraded by twenty percent. We’re rerouting through secondary networks for the damaged relays and reestablishing laser links. That hit really shook us up, Stationmaster,” reported the Communication Officer.

  “Keep working on it people. If and when we’re needed, I want this station ready to respond!” she ordered.

  Chapter Sixty-five: Reaction on the Invictus

  “Wolf-9 Starbase has taken heavy damage to the side facing us, but is otherwise still fully functional, Supreme Admiral,” reported Commander Stenson.

  “They survived the hit,” Captain Goddard said with surprise, “that should have been impossible.”

  “Looking at the old Wolf-9 technical specs, I would agree with you. But even though they’ve survived this hit, I assure you they won’t survive another one,” Admiral Janeski said grimly.

  “If they rotate the station then—” said Goddard.

  “They’ve shown no sign of doing so to this point. So either they’ve taken damage to their station-keeping thrusters, they’re complete idiots who don’t know how to operate a space station, or…” he trailed off suggestively.

  “Or they must have reinforced only one section of their station and they can’t turn away,” Goddard said.

  “Begin recharging the main cannon,” said the Admiral.

  “What about that lone Battleships squadron, Sir?” asked the Captain. “They’re still approaching and show no sign of attempting a slow down.”

  “I have a plan,” said the Admiral.

  Chapter Sixty-six: The Montagne Maneuver!

  “I have a plan,” I said.

  “That’s good, Sir, because sensors are still picking up multiple enemy fighter launches and we’re definitely being tracked by that carrier’s targeting lasers,” said Captain Hammer. “If they can fire again…”

  “They can’t and now we have them right where we want them,” I said with total certainty. “Tell the rest of the squadron to spr
ead back out into a box formation. We’re going to bracket that Command Carrier.”

  “It’s time, Admiral,” reported Adrianne Blythe, “Chief Engineer Wave Grinder says we are at the point of no return. Either we do this now or we overshoot our target.”

  “Good thing Orion took out most of those enemy Cruisers,” Hammer said.

  I grimaced. “You are aware where most of those popup missile launchers came from aren’t you?” I said flatly.

  “It’s now or never, Admiral!” said Blythe.

  “Execute the Maneuver,” I ordered.

  “Initiating Montagne Maneuver,” said Blythe, “grav-plates have been linked into the system.”

  “Montagne Maneuver Protocols ready; shields are a go,” reported Longbottom from his position at in the Shields Section.

  “Everybody buckle in,” said Captain Hammer, “and it’s the results that matter, Admiral. Not who or where it came from.”

  “Prepare for high gravity event. I say again: all hands get yourself ready for grav-plate fluctuations. It’s the Montagne Maneuver, ladies and gentlemen—all crewmembers are advised to tighten your fasteners and hold onto your grab bar for the duration of this flight,” Lieutenant Steiner said, her voice coming in across the overhead com-system throughout the Battleship.

  “Grab bar?” I questioned right before an elephant decided to sit down on my chest and the rollercoaster began.

  “Shield power drain is exceeding previous reported events and heat levels are rising within the generators,” reported Longbottom in a rising voice. “Enemy Carrier has begun to turn and we are now receiving turbo-laser fire. It has to be ranging shots, Sir,” reported Lieutenant Hart in a heavy, panting voice as the ship tried to throw us at the ceiling for no reason I could tell.

  I’d positioned the Rage to take it on the chin instead of the Starbase, and the enemy had declined my invitation. They were about to learn the error of their ways.