by Daniel Gibbs
David struggled to pull himself up and found that blood was gushing out of his nose. Ignoring it, he reached for the intercom built into his command chair, punching the code for engineering. “Major Hansen, divert everything we’ve got to shields! Our lives depend on it!”
Ruth cranked her head around. “Too late, sir. Shields have collapsed!”
David’s observe, orient, decide, and act, or OODA loop, was entirely compromised. Struggling with what to do next, he realized that they were still moving forward; if this was some new mine, there would likely be more mines around them.
“Navigation, all stop! Maximum reverse thrust!” David shouted over the din of alarms and screams.
Another mine exploded, knocking David away from the CO’s chair and slamming him into a console. He looked up to see the overhead of the bridge collapsing on top of several petty officers that operated auxiliary fire control consoles. As he struggled to get to his feet, another blast wave hit the Lion, again rocking the mighty ship. A pipe ruptured and fell on top of the navigation station with live steam shooting out of the end. Hammond screamed at the top of her lungs as the steam burned her side.
“Help me!” Hammond cried as Ruth struggled out of her harness and to assist her.
David rushed over, blood still pouring out of his nose, and tried to release the harness she was trapped in, but involuntarily yanked his hand back, as it was too hot to grab. Quickly ripping off his uniform sweater, he wrapped it around the release and pulled. Hammond fell onto the deck, whimpering and writhing in pain.
Breathing heavily, David looked up at Ruth. “TAO, retake your station! I want to know why point defense isn’t targeting those damn mines. Now!”
“Aye aye, sir!” Ruth answered, pulling herself back into the chair and frantically trying to review sensor scans of the area.
Smoke had begun to fill the bridge as a small fire broke out where the decking had collapsed. “Master Chief!” David shouted. “Master Chief, are you okay?”
Rebecca Tinetariro staggered to her feet. “Still here, sir,” she said shakily.
“Get me damage control parties and corpsmen up here on the double,” David ordered, beginning to reassert control of the situation. “And somebody turn off that damn alarm!”
David looked around for Aibek and saw him collapsed near the holoprojector. Closing the distance quickly, he knelt next to his XO and felt for a pulse. While it was steady, the big Saurian was clearly out cold. There was a bleeding knot on his head, and David assumed he had hit his head. Turning back to his station, he sat down and quickly reconfigured his display for navigation. In a pinch, he could control any system on the ship from his screen, but in practice rarely had a reason to do so. As he thanked God for good old-fashioned CDF redundancy, the navigation display popped up and confirmed that the ship was able to maneuver, but was stopped as his last order had directed.
“TAO, give me some good news,” David said toward Ruth.
“I’m sorry, sir, these mines have some sort of stealth coating on them. I’ve never seen anything like it. Automated point defense can’t track them, at least not without recalibration. The fleet has stopped moving, sir.”
“What about our fast movers?”
A look of terror washed over Ruth’s face as she realized the implication of that question. The mines would be deadly to small craft. She checked over her sensor display and turned back to David, her face ashen. “Sir, we’ve taken fifty percent losses among our fighters and bombers.”
“Focus, Lieutenant. One problem at a time. The mines,” David said in as gentle a voice as he could muster.
“Yes, sir.”
David heard a commotion behind him and turned to look. Damage control crewmembers in full firefighting gear rushed into the bridge, followed by a large medical team.
“We’ve got wounded up here. The XO is unconscious, and the navigator has steam burns on her side,” Tinetariro said to the first corpsmen in the hatch.
Trying to block out the flurry of activity, David focused on the displays on his console. “Communications, any word from the Elcin or Admiral Kartal?”
“No, sir. I’m not getting much of anything, there’s so much residual radiation from those explosions. It’s going to take a few more minutes before we get comms back,” Taylor answered.
“Understood. Keep working on it, Lieutenant.”
“Conn, TAO! Aspect change! League fleet is moving sir. Engine light-off across all of their ships.”
David stared straight ahead. “TAO, ETA to weapons range of those ships?”
“Fifteen minutes, sir, give or take.”
The medical team strapped Hammond into a portable stretcher; all the while, she continued to moan in pain. As they began to carry her off the bridge, David sprang up and walked over to grab her hand, motioning for the corpsmen to hold up. Looking down at her, he forced a smile. “Lieutenant, you go get patched up, and I’ll see you back up here soon, okay?”
“Yes, sir. I won’t be out of action long,” Hammond replied, grimacing from the pain.
“See that she’s taken good care of,” David said, addressing the team leader.
“Aye aye, sir!” the lead corpsman replied as they carried her off the bridge.
David sat back down as the damage control team put out the fire in the back rack of consoles, and medical personnel began to assess the injured. Forcing his mind back onto the battle, he reexamined the tactical data and realized that several capital ships had been destroyed. It appeared the carriers were outside of the range of the mines, but the heavy cruisers and their escorts weren’t so lucky. The fleet was battered and beaten. He prayed that Hanson and the engineers were successful getting the shields back online, because without them, the Lion wasn’t going anywhere.
While David and the bridge crew were trying to keep the ship in one piece, Hanson and his engineering team were trying to get the primary systems of the Lion, specifically its shields, back online and functional. Doctor Hayworth and Major Merriweather were also in the engine room, assisting with repairs, as were a number of the defense contractors. All in all, it made for a very hectic work environment.
“Doc, I’m showing a buildup of pressure in our main coolant tubes for the anti-matter reactor. Can you take a look?” Hanson shouted above the din of conversation and machinery.
“Don’t call me doc!” Hayworth replied, ever the curmudgeon. Shuffling over and adjusting his glasses to better look at the readout Hanson was observing, he paused for a moment before speaking. “I think the problem is in the primary magnetic stabilization chamber. Let me try to realign the system. It sure would be nice if you military types stopped getting this thing shot to hell and back every other week.”
Hanson smirked. He’d come to enjoy the banter with Doctor Hayworth, and he’d learned much from the man about the anti-matter reactor technology. “Sure, doc, we’ll get right on that.”
Hayworth turned and affixed a glowering look. “It’ll hold for now… but a more permanent fix is required. We need to shut down the reactor and fully repair the damage.”
“That’ll have to come after this battle, Doctor.” Hanson looked up to the main control console, where a group of engineers was camped out. “Samuels!” he shouted, speaking to a senior shield control technician. “You’ve got power now, crank up the shield generators. The colonel needs those back online ASAP.”
Samuels gave him the thumbs-up signal a few seconds later. “Recharging, sir!”
Hanson cracked a smile and brought up his comm, punching in the bridge channel number. “Hansen to bridge.”
A moment later, the comm crackled, and David’s voice issued out of it. “Please tell me you’ve got some good news, Major.”
“That I do, sir. Shields are recharging now. We can’t take too much of a beating down here… Doc tells me that the reactor is jury-rigged six ways from Sunday.”
There was a pregnant pause on the line. “Understood, Major. Good work. Cohen out.”
&n
bsp; Amir blinked repeatedly. He was still alive, but he couldn’t remember what had happened after the initial blasts. Maybe I blacked out. That consideration was something of a surprise. Feeling his way around the cockpit, he realized that he was having trouble seeing. Everything around him was dark. It took him a moment to realize it was his fighter and not his eyes that had the problem. The flight helmet had worked as designed, filtering out the nuclear pulses and preserving his eyesight.
Fumbling around in the dark, Amir triggered the backup lights and tried to ascertain his position, but his cockpit was spinning, leaving him with no situational awareness. Going through the emergency restart checklist, he triggered each step as they were ingrained into muscle memory from years of practice. His reward was the primary subsystems snapping back on.
“Thank Allah,” he said out loud. First bringing the thrusters back online, he was able to stop the spinning and stabilize his craft.
His second task was to reestablish communications. Toggling the communications channel selector, he tuned it to the squadron commanders channel. “This is CAG Amir. Can anyone hear me?” he said into his mic. There was no response. Not quite on the verge of panic, but very concerned, Amir switched the selector to the CDF guard frequency, which would theoretically allow him to communicate with any friendly craft in range. “This is Colonel Hassan Amir. Can anyone hear me?”
“Colonel, this is Major Foster of the CSV Saratoga. How copy, over?”
“Solid copy, Major. What’s the status of your flight?” Amir replied. Thank Allah I’m not alone.
“We’re looking at twenty percent combat losses. Most voice comms are out thanks to all the residual radiation. Damn Leaguers have a stealthy minefield up. We walked right into it.”
Another voice cut into the conversation. “This is Reaper six. Colonel Amir, is that you?”
“Thank Allah you are alive… Yes, this is Colonel Amir,” Amir replied.
“There are a few other Reapers out here on my wing, sir. Comms units are fried, but they’re following me in close formation. We’re crisscrossing space where the mines already detonated. I’m not sure how we can get back to the Lion. I also show numerous inbound League ships and fighters on short-range scanners.”
“Keep the faith. Anyone who can hear this, stay in a constant loop. We must wait for our capital ships to figure out how to deal with this new threat. Trying to fly out of our current locations will be suicide,” Amir said, his tone forceful.
“Uh, sir, you’re not wrong…but we’re going to be just as dead when the Leaguers show up in ten minutes,” a voice Amir didn’t recognize replied.
He’s right… Allah help us. I pray Colonel Cohen has another trick up his sleeve, or we’ll all perish. Amir looped his fighter around and absent-mindedly fiddled with his sensors to try in vain to pick up the mines.
Back on the Lion’s bridge, Ruth announced a report from her console. “Conn, TAO. Shields fully charged. All generators report nominal.”
David breathed a sigh of relief. “TAO, raise the shields.”
“Aye aye, sir, shields raised.”
The medical team had removed Aibek and the rest of the wounded from the bridge. Damage control teams shut off the live steam, secured the pipe, and restored power to the navigation console. All they were waiting for now was the backup navigator to get to the bridge. David found himself worrying about the condition of the wounded and had to push it out of his mind. The only thing that mattered now was how to solve the next problem.
“Conn, Communications. We’ve got flash traffic from Admiral Kartal’s flagship. It's intact, and the admiral is alive. They want to know if anyone has figured out how to track the mines.”
Thank God he survived. Maybe there’s hope for us yet. “TAO?” David asked.
Ruth turned around in her chair. “No joy on tracking them, sir. I think there’s a way to, but we don’t have enough time now to recalibrate our entire sensor array. I’ve got an idea, though… it’s a bit nutty.”
David grinned. “Nuts is my middle name. What’cha got?”
“Well, these mines are small; we’re sure of it because they’re barely registering on the EM scanners, and we can’t see them on LIDAR. Even with stealth coatings, they’ve got to be small. That means they logically lack heavy armor. We could use our Starbolt missiles as mine-clearing devices.”
“You want to use five hundred megaton fusion warheads as minesweepers? How?” David asked her incredulously.
“Yes, sir. We can send them to specific XYZ coordinates in manual mode and detonate remotely when they reach them. The blast wave ought to be enough to trigger the mines in range to explode. We can effectively carve a path out of the field.”
“Lieutenant, that’s just crazy enough to work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Start programming the warheads. Communications, get a message to the admiral’s flagship with our plan of action.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Taylor responded crisply.
While he waited for a return message to come in from the admiral’s flagship, David studied the tactical plot. As interference from the blasts faded, IFFs came back on. He was relieved to see Amir’s IFF snap back on, along with many of the Lion’s fighters. The losses they’d suffered were horrific, however. We’ve lost at least half of our small craft and fifteen percent of our capital ships. This is an absolute blood bath.
A voice to David’s right side jolted him out of his thoughts. “Sir, Lieutenant Marks, backup navigator reporting for duty, sir.”
David’s gaze shifted over to the young woman, Second Lieutenant Rachel Marks. She was the third shift navigator and had been on the Lion for only a month. He sorely wished Hammond was flying the ship, but Marks would have to be up to the challenge.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Take your station, please.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Rachel replied before sitting down at the navigation station and strapping herself in.
God, please help us. Give Admiral Kartal wisdom to make the right calls before all is lost.
10
On the bridge of the RSN Elcin, Admiral Resit Kartal sat in the chair usually occupied by his flag captain. He was one of the first causalities of the mines, which wrecked the Elcin’s bridge and heavily damaged her wormhole drive. The Lion’s crew had given them what seemed like a decent chance at getting out of the trap with the majority of the force intact.
A text message appeared on Kartal’s viewer. “Two hours to restore FTL, Admiral. All possibilities exhausted.” It was from the Elcin’s chief engineer.
We will not be joining in the retreat after all. Today, I will die with honor before God and the Prophet. Kartal steeled himself and glanced at his communications officer. “Get me fleet-wide transmission.”
The Saurian communications officer cleared his throat. “You are live, Admiral.”
“Captains of the fleet…we have little time. The Lion of Judah has discovered what appears to be a counter to the League’s new weapon. I’ve vectored our missile cruisers into position to begin blasting a path out of the minefield. Our only choice is to withdraw. This battle is lost, but the war is not. The Elcin will remain behind and buy the rest of the fleet time to get away. I am placing Colonel David Cohen in overall command of the fleet. Follow his words as if they were my own. In the coming days, ensure that the galaxy never forgets the brave souls who perished here, and let them never forget that we did not die in vain. Godspeed, and good luck. Admiral Kartal out.”
“The feed is cut, sir,” the communications officer reported.
Kartal pressed a button on the CO’s chair, patching himself into the entire ship. “This is Admiral Kartal. All warriors, abandon ship. There is no reason to sacrifice yourselves today. Serve the Empire and the Alliance well in whatever capacity you can. May the Prophet guide you.”
He ticked off several seconds, but the bridge crew didn’t budge. “That order applies to everyone on this ship. I alone will stay behind to fight the League.
Save yourselves.”
There was a pointed silence on the bridge for several seconds before the tactical officer turned around in her chair. “Admiral, we stand with you. Honor demands it. We will not abandon you.”
Kartal fought down the emotions washing over his mind. His duty extended to his crew and to see them return home. There was no honor lost in remaining alive rather than to die in a lost cause. “Very well. Resume your action stations. Let us destroy as many League ships as possible. Turn toward the enemy and use our forward missile launchers to create a travel lane, tactical.”
“Aye aye, sir!” the tactical officer responded, turning back toward her station.
“Communications, get me a private link with Colonel Cohen.”
David was stunned beyond words at Kartal’s fleet-wide message. To lose the admiral and now have the burden of commanding the most significant offensive fleet ever assembled by the Canaan Alliance fall to him found doubts roaring to the surface of his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment to regain control of his thoughts and focus on the next task: safely retreating with as many ships as possible to fight another day.
“Conn, communications! I have Admiral Kartal on direct vidlink for you, sir.”
David gulped. “Put it to my viewer, Lieutenant.”
A few seconds later, the bulky Saurian admiral appeared above David on his viewer. “Greetings, Colonel. Sorry to spring that on you without warning,” he said as he displayed a toothy grin.
“Admiral… I’m at a loss for words. Please consider moving your flag to another ship. The Lion can send SAR birds at your command.”
“No, Colonel. I am not going to ask another warrior to die in my place. This was my failure. I will take responsibility for it by doing my part to preserve the fleet. It is important you refuse to allow the politicians and the political brass to use this failure to derail our offensive.”
“Sir, I’m not sure what I can do.”
