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

by Luke Sky Wachter

  For a moment I thought she was done for. Then the fires faded, and as the side of the Carrier that was hit slowly rotated into view I saw a great, gaping hole in her flank.

  “Why won’t she just go and die?” I swore, pounding the arm of my command chair, heedless of how it looked or what it did for or to morale. “When can the 2.0 fire again?” I demanded eagerly.

  “She seems to have temporarily lost power. Only a couple of lasers seem to be on local control, and of course the Furious Phoenix is still firing on the fighters attacking her, Sir,” reported Sensors.

  “No,” I said with disbelief. We’d come so close. So very close and…now this.

  “Sir, I’m receiving a hail request from the Invictus Rising,” said Lisa Steiner.

  “Tell me the moment the Clover comes back online,” I said.

  “Will do, Sir,” said the Sensor Chief down in the pit.

  I felt numb. We’d given it our best. The North Hampton, the Metal Titan and the Lucky Clover had all given their best and given everything they had—not to mention dozens and dozens of warships before them—and yet, here we were. The 3rd Battle for Easy Haven was slipping through our grasp, and there seemed to be nothing I could do about it.

  “Sir?” prompted Lisa Steiner.

  My face twisted into a rictus. “Prepare to ram,” I said furiously.

  “Sir, we don’t have engine power,” said Hammer.

  “I don’t care if all we have are two thrusters! Better men then us have given their all; how can we do any less?”” I snarled.

  “The ship literally can’t do it, Sir,” Hammer said.

  I took a deep breath, “Fine. I can accept reality when it smacks me in the face. Have the crew get into their skin suits. We’ll go over and join the Marines. Maybe sheer weight of numbers will make a difference that training and armor alone couldn’t.”

  “We won’t even make it to the Carrier, Jason,” Hammer said, “without grav-boards, and considering their point defense…” she trailed off.

  “The Rising is still signaling,” reported Steiner.

  “Put the bastard on,” I said furiously, my shoulders slumping. I’d never felt so impotent. There was literally nothing I could do but spit defiance and die like a man. The Easy Haven yard was wrecked. Our Battleships were outnumbered, failing one by one, on the verge of total defeat both here and back in the swirling Battleship-on-Battleship confrontation. With the 2.0 out of commission, we were done.

  While the Furious Phoenix desperately tried to defend the 2.0 and the Imperial Cruisers turned on the Armor Prince, all I could do was drift in the Royal Rage, reflect on my failure as a leader, and prepare to spit defiance at the enemy.

  At least I could do that. Talking trash to the enemy had never been a weakness. I just wished there was more I could do.

  Chapter One hundred seventeen: Rivals Rage Redux

  Admiral Janeski appeared on screen and glared at me.

  “Janeski,” I said, my voice twisting the word into a sneer.

  The Imperial Admiral spit, a trail of red blood trailing down the image on the main-screen.

  “I see you’ve already felt the Spineward Sectors resolve,” I said with hot satisfaction at the sight of a well-and-truly bloodied enemy. We might not have killed him, but Arnold Janeski would remember the price of his victory today.

  “You may think you’ve won, but your last shot failed. You had your chance and failed to hit the mark,” Janeski said with triumph. “Now your people will know the futility of putting a civilian in command of a navy fleet, Governor.”

  “A civilian who did good enough to wreck your Command Carrier,” I shot back. “I don’t know why you won’t acknowledge the truth that, after these three years, I am just as much an Admiral and military officer as you are.”

  Janeski’s features twisted with rage. “You aren’t half the man that the greenest Ensign in my fleet is. Face the truth: you’ll never be more than a pampered princeling who got a lot of good men and women killed—killed for nothing!” he said, as if his words were some kind of knife that was supposed to twist and hurt me. “You can’t stop this. You can’t stop us. The Empire will reclaim these Sectors despite everything you can do. If you think that bringing your fleet to the brink of defeat twice somehow earns you my respect, you only show why you’ll never be a real officer!” he roared.

  “Let’s see what the Empire has to say after you bring back a battered wreck of a Command Carrier into space-dock for repairs. We’ll see if they think I’m just as much a fool as you do. The Spine doesn’t have the tech to repair that much mono-locsium even if it wanted to, Rear Admiral,” I said mockingly. Saying I wasn’t a real officer no longer hurt. What hurt was, just like he said, getting a lot of good men and women killed for nothing.

  “I vow before Man that I will destroy you here today if it’s the last thing I do!” raged Janeski. “You haven’t won and yet, instead of pleading for leniency for your people like a real officer, you still mock me with your impudence you silver spooned little bastard. Even now, you fail as an Admiral!”

  “Would you have pled if the roles had been reversed?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  Admiral Janeski sneered. “Man’s Empire will never let you win,” he sneered dismissively, “you’ve already lost and you’re still are too stupid to realize you’re already dead, your cause lost.”

  “Realize?” I asked archly. “Despite what Imperials like you would wish, we’re not dead yet. It’s just a matter of time until my big gun shoots again and ends this once and for all.”

  “That powerless wreck?” Arnold Janeski threw back his head and laughed. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve lost, but even if you had by some miracle won today you would have still lost. If it’s not me then another, and another, and another will come until we realize what we came for, you pumpernickel!” he mocked almost gleefully. “Man’s Empire will not be denied its rightful due—certainly not by a silver-spoon-sucking civilian leech on society like you.”

  “Better a social leech than a man that orbitally bombarded a helpless world, turned around and betrayed his oath to defend the Spine, and then tried to conquer it, Rear Admiral!” I cried.

  “You can thank yourself for what I’ll do after I leave here today in victory. No one can stop the tsunami you have unleashed upon your people, upon the Spine, and upon that stain on the galaxy that is Capria itself. I will do what I should have done the first time: wipe your home world from existence as an example to the rest of Sector 25 about the price of resistance,” Janeski said harshly. “When children look back in the history books, they will shudder and weep and curse the name Jason Montagne. Man’s Empire will drown you in our own blood if we have to, but we will have what we came for! Total and complete surrender. The Empire will have what Man demands of you: your total, unconditional, complete surrender!”

  “Eat a moldy potato and die, you genocidal bastard!” I shouted at the screen.

  Off the screen, I could hear the voice of an Imperial officer say that one of their engines was back online so long as they used minimal power.

  I felt despair.

  “In a way, I have to thank you,” Janeski said with a hard smile, “the Empire of Man will be reborn in the forge of the Spineward Sectors until she once again becomes what she always should have been: the Empire of all Mankind!”

  I shook my head. We were finished.

  “Bring the ship about!” ordered Janeski.

  “Fire everything we have at the Invictus Rising,” I said, determined at least to go down shooting.

  “Enemy Carrier is coming about,” reported Hammer.

  “I’m going to enjoy this more than I should probably,” said the Imperial Admiral. Then, unthinkably, his ship seemed to bend in the middle—and chaos erupted on the Imperial Bridge before the signal was abruptly cut.

  “What??” I asked, blinking in surprise as the Invictus Rising abruptly cut engine power.

  Crystal continued to break and sh
atter all around the center of the ship on the opposite side from where the last plasma strike had landed.

  “The Imperials seem to be using their forward thrusters to try to stop their momentum and contain the damage,” Adrienne Blythe said, a gleeful note in her voice.

  “What?” I repeated, hoping against hope that I wasn’t dreaming and the Imperials had failed to save their ship. But either way, it was looking like the Command Carrier was wrecked. I threw back my head and laughed. Then, jumping out of my chair, I danced a jig like a madman.

  Finally, despite the best efforts of their thrusters—or maybe because of them—the front half of the ship seemed to twist and then completely broke in half. The bow section continued to move side-on toward the Royal Rage while the stern kept moving away from us.

  “Apparently the 2.0 did a lot more damage than we thought…than even the Imperials must have realized,” Hammer sounded shocked, as if she couldn’t realize what had happened.

  If this was a dream, I hoped I never woke up.

  There was a stir in the sensor pit and I paused in my insane dance. The Sensor Chief looked around wildly until his eyes landed on me. “Sir! It’s the 2.0…” he seemed to lose his voice.

  “What is it, man?!” I shouted looking back toward that ship.

  “She’s powering back up, Admiral!” shouted the Chief.

  I pumped a fist in the air and howled a rather undignified series of epithets, jubilations, and outright nonsensical words which had no proper place in the annals of history.

  Someone decided to zoom in the screen and not only was the Clover powering back up but our gunboats had belatedly arrived on the scene and reengaged the Imperial Fighters.

  Between them and the Phoenix’s short ranged anti-fighter plasma cannons, the 2.0 now had a genuine chance to survive.

  Walking over to the throne, I unsteadily sat down in my chair.

  I’d been so sure I was about to die…yet here I was—still alive.

  “How much combat threat do the remaining halves of that carrier have?” I asked.

  Hammer shook her head. “The bow section is completely out of commission, with only local emergency backups providing any power. The stern….” she paused, “is ejecting fusion cores. It looks like the engine they got back up scrammed during the break-up. So long as we stay out of range, it’s only a matter of time.”

  I tried to cope with the idea that we’d won. We’d actually defeated the Command Carrier. We might not be in any condition to do much of anything else, but we’d done it. The Invictus Rising and that death laser of hers was gone. Dead and defunct. Kaput.

  “Sir,” she prompted me.

  “What?” I asked, still basking in the realization that I wasn’t just still alive, but that Janeski was dead—or soon would be.

  “Your orders, Sir?” she asked and moments later Lieutenant Steiner got a call and turned my way.

  “Sir, the Lucky Clover is asking for targeting instructions. They want to know who to go after next,” she said.

  “Tell them to start charging their weapon—if it’ll actually fire—and wait for my instructions,” I said to the Comm. Officer.

  She nodded and relayed that then looked back to me.

  “And put me on a general transmission to everyone in this star system,” I instructed her.

  She worked her board and then gave me the go signal.

  “Reclamation Fleet warships inside the Easy Haven Star System, this is Confederation Admiral Jason Montagne of the 25th Sector Amalgamated Fleet. We have killed your Admiral and destroyed his Command Carrier. No matter what choice you make here today, Arnold Janeski’s reign of terror is over for good.”

  I paused to take a deep breath.

  “As such, I am willing to offer a general amnesty to any and all Reclamation Fleet warships whose officers or crews overthrow their minders, throw off the Imperial jackboot, and retake your warships! Anyone who wants to leave this star system under their own power can do so with my blessing, and anyone who worries about their reception back home will be free to sign up with Tracto and the Confederation war fleet. Think carefully: do you want to follow the orders of a dead man for the greater glory of an Empire that threw us all into darkness and despair, and who sent our protectors to invade us, or do you want to be free?!” I decided to finish on that resounding note and gestured sharply.

  Steiner cut the connection.

  “Signal the Clover they are to pick a target and fire on the Cruisers attacking the Armor Prince,” I instructed.

  “Yes sir,” said Steiner then after sending the message looked back at me, “do you think anyone will chose to go home?”

  I shrugged. “I can’t imagine that everyone on those warships is an Imperial. Most of them were local make, other than a few Destroyers, their Carrier, and those blasted fighters. Even if they had the officers, where did they get the crew for all those Battleships?” I asked rhetorically.

  Steiner looked at me as if she was disappointed I couldn’t guarantee results.

  But what could I do? It was up to the Reclamation Fleet survivors to see if they continued to attack or pulled back, now that their leader—and most powerful warship—was out of action.

  Chapter One hundred eighteen: Hard Decisions

  Over the next half hour, the Furious Phoenix and our gunboats fought off the Imperial Fighters buzzing the Lucky Clover 2.0. While that happened, half of the Reclamation Battleships decided to either switch sides or declare independence and fight their way free of the battle, throwing the Imperial Battleship lines into confusion.

  The Lucky Clover picked off three Cruisers, with four shots—three outright kills and one clean miss—before the remainder turned tail and ran. The surviving Destroyers reluctantly pulled back to join Cruisers.

  Despite seeing the that the relief fleet which had been following the Clover were still coming, I instructed the Clover to move to the relief of Dark Matter and our still actively-engaged Battleships.

  The odds may have changed in our favor due to the defections, but as far as I could see that had only brought the odds back up to even. We needed something to tip things over the top.

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

  “We’ve received orders to engage the enemy Battleships near the Wolf-9 Yard,” reported the com-tech.

  Spalding rubbed his chin.

  “We’ve taken damage to the stern,” Brence said uneasily.

  “We’ve taken damage everywhere,” retorted Spalding, “but those fighters did tear up a lot of our supporting struts and girders. I just hope they can take the impact of reversing the HPC’s grav-coil and lighting back up the main engine.

  “It’s a miracle they didn’t set off our antimatter generators,” the Yard Manager muttered, and Spalding shot her a glare before she raised her voice, “look at it this way: if the structure couldn’t take the use of the grav-coil we’d have already broke apart. There’s some risk in reversing it, but no more so than firing the blasted thing in the first place. You might as well try it.”

  “Glenda, I’m surprised…I didn’t think you had it in you,” Spalding said with genuine approval.

  “What, that I can take a calculated risk sometimes? That’s not my fault—that’s yours!” she said hotly. “Most of the time your calculations are off into lala ‘I don’t want to hear it’ crazy land!”

  “Hey, I got us this far didn’t I?” Spalding protested angrily. “Maybe I just have a better idea of how far the equipment can go than the rest of you overly conservative types!”

  “Says the man who walked into a fusion generator…twice!” she cried while thrusting a pair of fingers in his direction.

  “Hey, now, I only went in myself once!” he shouted defensively. “The second time I used a contraption my son came up with and just sent in a suit on autopilot.”

  “I rest my case,” Baldwin rolled her eyes.

  “Infernal woman,” Spalding growled, turning to the helm, “get ready to engag
e the engine.

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

  It only took the Lucky Clover two shots to down a pair of Battleships, one of them by mistake. The targeted Battleship had moved, and another enemy Battleship behind it was clipped in the stern. After the second went down, the rest of the Battleships decided the only way to survive was to light off their engines and throw off the Clover’s long-range firing solution.

  Close range would be a different matter, but unlike lasers that moved at the speed of light, the HPC took a while to get to its longer range targets.

  Unfortunately, the Imperials’ relief fleet was still on its way in.

  “How long until the enemy’s reserve joins the battle?” I asked with concern. They knew I was in charge and could have diverted over to kill me in revenge for the loss of Admiral Janeski. But instead they’d made the smart play and locked onto the Lucky Clover. If they got within range…

  “Another ten minutes until they’re within range of the 2.0,” Hart said with concern. “More than two hundred fighters will be there in five. It looks like it’s going to be a coordinated strike.”

  Hart’s concern was one I shared, because right now only the Phoenix and the surviving fifty gunboats were around to defend the Clover. A number of Battleships were on their way to assist in the defense of our most important Super Battleship platform, but they wouldn’t arrive in anything approaching a timely fashion.

  Defending the Clover was vital…but I just didn’t see any way to do it.

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

  “What’s the latest count on the Battleships of the main force?” Admiral Norfolk asked, his voice flat.

  “Eight survivors are now moving to link up with us, with another two outright destroyed and two with dead engines who can’t make it out. The remainder have either joined with the locals or are on the run for the hyper limit,” reported his Staff Intelligence Officer.