“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” Cole replied, nodding. “Program a fire plan. Let’s take out as many of those corvettes, frigates, and destroyers as we can with missiles and torpedoes. Once we close to energy range, we’ll shift to ‘Spearhead.’”
“Aye, sir,” Mazzi answered. Not quite five minutes later, she reported, “Fire plan ready and uploaded to TacNet.”
“Fire.”
One-hundred-three missiles and seventeen torpedoes erupted from Haven’s launchers, joining the more than seven hundred missiles and twenty torpedoes launched from the rest of the battlegroup.
“First launch complete,” Mazzi said. “Flight time…six minutes and change.”
“Wixil, slow us down to two-tenths-light,” Cole said. “Let’s give the missile and torpedo crews more time to work.”
“Yes, Cole!”
“All ships report fully reloaded,” Mazzi announced. “Locked onto second target group.”
“Fire.”
Another barrage of over eight hundred missiles and thirty-seven torpedoes erupted from the battlegroup.
“How many volleys can we manage, before we lose some birds to local control?” Cole asked.
“I can augment the ship’s computer to assist with fire control, Cole,” the bridge speakers broadcast Srexx’s voice. “If the battlegroup could manage to launch all missiles and torpedoes, we would have the fire control links to manage them.”
Cole nodded. “Fair enough. Thanks, Srexx.”
“Reloaded and shifted to third target group, sir!”
Cole pointed in the air with his right index finger as he waved that hand, saying, “Fire.”
When the battlegroup had five barrages in play, Cole held off launching number six. He wanted to see how effective his fire plan was as the first barrage arrived on target before he committed more to the plan.
The eight remaining frigates each caught a torpedo and simply vanished into expanding clouds of debris. The missiles took out forty of the corvettes as the remaining torpedoes bored in on the destroyers; of the twenty-nine torpedoes, twenty reached their targets, and those twenty destroyers ceased being combat-capable. In some cases, destroyers outright ceased to exist at all, as their fusion reactors burst into massive orgies of thermonuclear savagery.
By this point, the second barrage closed on its targets, ripping through the remaining sixteen destroyers and ten corvettes and leaving them to join the expanding clouds of debris trailing behind the Coalition fleet.
The third barrage encountered much more resistance. With seventeen cruisers receiving only forty missiles and two torpedoes per cruiser, plus the cruisers’ much heavier point-defense batteries and the battleships joining in missile defense now, the third barrage didn’t take any of the cruisers out of the fight. Damage them? Yes. In a couple cases, the torpedoes heavily damaged their target cruisers, but all of the cruisers remained combat-capable.
Then, Mazzi slowed the fourth barrage so that it would arrive on target with the fifth barrage. A little over sixteen hundred missiles and seventy-four torpedoes reduced four cruisers to expanding clouds of debris and turned the rest into drifting hulks.
Cole leaned back in the command chair and took in the destruction shown by the tactical plot.
“I don’t understand it,” Cole admitted. “Don’t they have electronic warfare or something…anything to help defend against our missile attacks? This is worse than shooting fish in a barrel.”
“To answer your question, Cole,” Srexx replied, “yes, they do. However, the sensors aboard our ships are sufficiently advanced that I am able to eliminate the effectiveness of their electronic warfare. If they were even close to on par with us technologically, I calculate this battle would’ve been far more costly in both lives and ships.”
Cole nodded. “We just have to be diligent in not becoming overconfident or warmongers. I do not want to subjugate the galaxy.”
“Understood, Cole,” Srexx replied. “I shall make note of that.”
Cole watched the tactical plot, expecting the battleships to turn. There was still enough distance that they could deny Cole a complete victory. But no. The battleships continued their approach.
“Mazzi, prepare a fire plan. I want to launch five barrages and control their velocities so that all five reach their targets at the same time.”
“Aye, sir,” Mazzi replied. A little less than ninety seconds later, she announced, “Fire plan ready, sir!”
“Implement it,” Cole said.
Not quite thirty minutes later, the four battleships—all that remained of the Coalition forces in Epsilon Anubis—became drifting hulks. Not even the combined destructive power of over four thousand missiles and one-hundred-eighty-five torpedoes could reduce those massive ships to expanding clouds of atoms, but those battleships would never fight again.
Cole looked at the system’s new debris field on the tactical plot and fought to hold in his sigh, as he thought, What a waste…all this destruction didn’t need to happen.
In the end, Cole’s concerns over having to board the station were unfounded. When news of the Coalition fleet’s destruction reached the planet and station, the station’s commander offered Cole an unconditional surrender. Cole accepted.
The resistance forces all across Epsilon Anubis VI responded to Cole’s message that he now controlled the system and surged out of hiding. The battle to free the planet began.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epsilon Anubis VI
Epsilon Anubis System
30 November 3003, 09:47 GST
Cole, Sasha, Yeleth, Garrett, Harlon, and Admiral Trask sat around the conference table in the bridge briefing room. They directed their attention to a woman just on the cusp of middle age; she served as the liaison between Cole’s people and the resistance on the planet below.
“The fighting is settling into siege tactics,” the resistance liaison said. “We control all the food production, and they control most of the cities and governmental facilities. Well, perhaps it’s a bit of an exaggeration to say they control the cities. A lot of their forces are concentrated in the cities, and they’re beginning to learn just how unsuccessful they were at disarming the population.”
“What do you need from us?” Cole asked.
The liaison shrugged. “That’s difficult to answer right now. Your medical support is phenomenal. We don’t have the facilities or the supplies to do more than battlefield triage, and between the field hospitals you’ve established and bringing the worst cases up to one of the ships…well…you’ve saved a lot of lives. I would say ‘on both sides,’ but it’s funny how Coalition soldiers ask to join the resistance after their own commanders order them shot to keep them from being captured.”
“I wonder if they’d be so eager to order their own people shot if they were on the receiving end,” Admiral Trask mused.
The liaison shrugged again. “There’s no way to know. Most of the officer corps now are true believers…for whatever reason.” A momentary silence descended on the table before the liaison turned to Cole. “We’ve been in contact with Iota Anubis and Eta Anubis. They told us what happened with the emissary we sent to you, and we apologize for that. What became of her?”
Cole looked to Garrett and gave him a questioning expression.
“She’s cooling her heels in a cell,” Garrett answered. “We built a high-security prison on an asteroid in Gateway. So far, it only has one resident, but it’s there if we need it.”
“I suppose it’s too much to ask that she’s being tortured,” the liaison almost muttered. “She would’ve ended a lot of lives if you hadn’t discovered her, and I can’t really say I have much sympathy for her.”
“That would defeat the purpose of incarcerating her,” Garrett replied. “She couldn’t expose her contacts in the Coalition if she weren’t in a condition to speak.”
“She’s talking?” the liaison gasped.
Garrett grinned. “After a fashion. We gave her a com
ms terminal. She refused to use it for the longest time, even after we assured her the terminal wasn’t monitored. But a week or two before we finalized this op, she started sending messages back home.”
The liaison frowned. “But if the terminal isn’t monitored…?”
“Just because we don’t monitor the terminal,” Garrett answered, “doesn’t mean we have no way of knowing where her messages go. Several are going home; she’s been communicating with her mother and sisters a lot. But…every so often, a message or two go to a system that is otherwise uninhabited. We’ve flagged that system, and we’ll get around to sending a scouting force once we’ve secured these systems.”
“About that,” the liaison said, turning to Cole. “The liaisons from Eta and Iota told us about their request that you establish a federation.”
Cole nodded. “And your thoughts?”
The liaison let go a self-deprecating scoff. “We need it. Only a delusional fool would think we could stand on our own against the Coalition. What we don’t understand, though, is what you get out of it. It’s obvious that you don’t need us. Why are you even open to discussing the idea of a federation?”
“That’s an interesting question,” Cole replied, leaning back against his seat. “You see…the first time they brought up the idea, I wanted no part of it. Up to that point, my goal was to build up and revitalize Beta Magellan. That was as far as my focus—or perhaps interest—extended. Then, the more reports about what it was like inside Coalition space came in, the more I realized someone had to do something, and given the Coalition’s resources, it was unlikely that even the Solar Republic would be able to corral them. That left us. I’m not looking forward to it, and quite frankly, I wish it were not necessary. But wishing doesn’t do all that much.”
“The resistance leaders have discussed it,” the liaison said, “and we want in. What will it take?”
Cole chuckled. “Beta Magellan doesn’t even have a constitution yet, that I’m aware. Let’s get your systems settled and safe, and then, we’ll figure out something. I’m not really a fan of ‘pay to play’ governments, so at this point, I’m thinking a system joins if its people want to join. I’m sure we’ll need to have some form of review process, but that’s all in the future right now. Admiral Trask, status update from your side, please?”
“As you know, we lost two destroyers and five frigates across all engagements but with minimal casualties. I have read through the after-action reports, and I believe that Srexx was a deciding factor in our overwhelming success.”
Chuckles went around the table.
“He usually is,” Cole remarked.
Trask nodded, continuing, “At this juncture, we control the five target systems, and I recommend requesting a destroyer and five frigates from Beta Magellan to restore our combat losses. Further, I think we should release the freighters from troop transport duties and begin using them to deliver supplies…both medical and war materiel. We’re the only system capable of being truly self-sufficient in regards to our extended mission of supporting the resistance, and that’s only if we bring in mining crews to deliver feedstock to Haven’s recyclers and fabricators. Once we start getting freighters in-system, we can ferry supplies down to the planet using cargo shuttles with fighter escort.” Trask frowned. “The other systems won’t have the option of fighter escorts for their shuttles, so I’ll recommend they use assault shuttles instead. Sir, we really need more battle-carriers if we’re going to be conducting similar operations in the future.”
Cole just nodded. “We need more of everything, Admiral. Most of the ships you brought to Gateway are still being recycled. That will help, but yes, we need ongoing construction and recruitment plans. Actually, what I need is for you, Admiral Sato, and Defense Minister Stone to sit down and work up a table of organization with force and staffing levels, so we have some target numbers.”
“There is one matter,” the liaison interjected, “I was asked to mention, but I’ve been reluctant to do so.”
“We’ll circle back around to your reluctance,” Cole assured her, “but what’s the matter?”
“The Coalition forces on the planet are being coordinated from a bunker in a northern mountain range. It’s the most heavily defended site on the planet, and we’ve been unable to breach it. As long as they maintain that facility, the fighting on the planet could drag out for months, if not years.”
When the liaison’s voice faded and she looked down at the tabletop, Cole waited. He gave her a few minutes before he spoke, “I’m guessing the resistance leaders would like us to attack the bunker?”
The liaison nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry, but it galls me that we have to ask for help to take back our own planet. We should be better than that.”
Cole offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Everyone needs help from time to time.”
“Not you.”
“Me most of all,” Cole replied. “Everyone you see at this table helps me on a daily basis. Srexx helps me. The people aboard this ship help me. The people who have chosen to become citizens of Beta Magellan help me. I could not do what I do or accomplish everything I’ve accomplished if I were totally on my own. Prior to finding this ship, my life goal was to buy a planet and disappear; that’s the most I aspired to, and I was going to use stolen funds to do it. Accepting my birthright and inheritance just allowed me to fund what these people need me to be. Now, I need to know two things: one, where is the bunker, and two, do you need it to remain intact?”
Later that day, Haven shifted orbit and moved to a position directly above the bunker. Cole occupied the command chair on the bridge, and the liaison stood a meter or so off his left elbow.
“Comms, record for transmission, please,” Cole requested.
“You’re live, sir,” the spacer at Comms reported.
“May I have your attention, please? My name is Bartholomew James Coleson, and I am in orbit over your position right now, preparing a bombardment plan that will convert your bunker to a crater…or possibly a mountain lake, once the snow melts. I would much prefer that you surrender and walk out of the bunker before I level the mountain range, and I’m giving you one opportunity to do so. You have two hours from the receipt of this message before I begin our bombardment. Please, evacuate the bunker and surrender. I personally guarantee the safety of anyone who surrenders. Coleson out.”
About one minute later, the comms tech announced, “Ready to transmit, sir.”
Cole nodded once. “Send it.”
Two hours later, Cole entered the bridge and waved off the ‘Captain on the bridge’ announcement. He walked to the command chair and sat. Turning to Sensors, he asked, “Any movement down there?”
“No, sir,” the spacer at Sensors answered.
“Have we confirmed that they received and viewed the message?” Cole asked.
“Yes, Cole,” Srexx answered via the overhead speakers. “I have accessed the bunker’s logs and can show you the various timestamps where multiple people viewed your message in its entirety.”
Cole took a deep breath and released it as a heavy sigh. “Well, they had their chance. Weaps, if you please, sound battle-stations – bombardment.”
The bridge status lights started flashing the angry red associated with battle-stations as klaxons blared throughout the ship. Within minutes, the Alpha shift bridge crew replaced the Gamma shift, assuming their duty stations, and Cole knew that Sasha was already in Auxiliary Control.
“All decks report secured for battle-stations – bombardment,” Jenkins announced from the comms station.
“Thank you, Jenkins,” Cole acknowledged, then grinned. “My compliments to the first officer, if you please, Jenkins; signal her that I offer her the opportunity to push the button.”
Not even thirty seconds later, Jenkins converted a laugh to a cough, reporting, “Commander Thyrray declines the offer, Cap; she says one bombardment is enough for her.”
“Mazzi,” Cole began, “initiate bombardment.”
“Aye, sir,” Mazzi replied, her fingers flying across the weapons console. “Bombardment away.”
Cole thought he might—might—have felt a slight shudder in the deck just before Mazzi reported, but he wasn’t sure. The bombardment projectiles consisted of massive warheads built inside chassis capable of penetrating no less than seven-hundred-fifty meters into a planet’s crust through the hardest materials in the Gyv’Rathi database. The bunker wasn’t much more than thirty to forty meters at its deepest, but Cole wanted there to be no doubt the bunker had been excised.
“Bombardment complete, sir,” Mazzi reported. “The fire mission was successful. We can’t see it yet from the cloud of debris ejected into the atmosphere over the site, but sensors report a fresh crater that might just end up as a lake once it cools.”
Cole nodded. “Thank you, Mazzi. Stand down from battle-stations, please.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
En Route to Beta Magellan
11 January 3004, 18:57 GST
Haven and her battlegroup powered through hyperspace at the eighty-percent cruising speed that was the preferred ‘maximum’ for routine travel. They left Epsilon Anubis once a system picket arrived to take their place and the Resistance held all but a few locations on the planet. Cole still ran freighters into the five systems carrying all manner of supplies and food, just to be as sure as possible that no one starved, but as soon as Epsilon Anubis no longer needed Haven and its battlegroup, Cole ordered their departure.
Cole and Sasha sat at a table in one of the dining halls on the mess deck. It hadn’t escaped Cole’s notice that every seat within two tables of them was vacant, and Cole appreciated the crew giving them their space. He had a difficult subject to broach.
“So, I invited you to dinner to discuss something that’s been on my mind,” Cole said, once the dishes were set aside.
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