Salvage Fleet

by Kevin Steverson

  There were several pieces of equipment onboard Cube that were not for sale at any cost. Besides their personal mechs, Stomper was next in that category. There was also an ancient tethered miniature helicopter that Mike had really liked playing with when they used to do missions on a planet’s surface, but that was useless aboard Cube.

  “Well,” Mike said before he walked out of the room, “we have about a half hour left. Try not to get killed.”

  Bradford pointed his cigar at his friend. “Don’t you die, either. I don’t want to have to get all dressed up for the funeral.”

  * * *

  “Alright,” Harmon said across the main frequency of the linked net. He was speaking to every bridge and power plant among all the ships designated to defend the Tretrayon system. “If the timing is right, and I think it is, we should see a massive entry in five minutes. Stick to the plan, don’t leave any openings, and show no fear. We’ll let their own momentum be their downfall. The best defense is actually a strong offense. This fleet…this ‘Salvage Fleet’ is more than a match for any invading fleet. Let’s do this.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Shortly after the warning timers went off all over the Salvage Fleet, Jayneen announced over the command net, “We have emergence.”

  Coming through the gate at battle speeds were squadron after squadron of Squilla ships. Leading the charge in-system was a super dreadnought, the likes of which no tactical officer across the entire Salvage Fleet had seen. Even the tactical officer on board the kashka’s ship had never seen one, and he had been in his position for decades.

  “Sir, you have a call from Task Force Kashkal,” the comms officer said, looking back at Harmon.

  “Thanks, Jim,” Harmon said. “Put it up on screen.”

  “Captain Tomeral,” Rick said. “That monster is one you’ll have to take down. When we come around the planet and hit their flank-k it will already have passed. We’ll hit them hard, taking out the middle of their formation, though.”

  “I figured as much when I planned this thing,” Harmon said. “We’ll hit it in our own version of a pincer.”

  “The Crossing Separator is a good tactic,” Rick agreed. “Kashkal, out.”

  The ships kept coming through, so the gate seemed to remain the shimmering color, hardly having a chance to close off the entrance to alter reality. Once the Squilla ships were completely through, the invasion fleet continued with four more squadrons of ships. Krift ships. They were noticeably different in design from the Squilla ships, and they turned slightly to the sides of the wave of Squilla ships in front of them and started to gain on them as if they intended to pass them.

  At this point, the defensive platforms made of damaged ships, both Squilla and Tretrayon Defense Force wrecks, powered up and began firing salvos of missiles. Harmon didn’t think the Squilla would be prepared for them, and he was right. It was known throughout the region of the galaxy that the Tretrayon system didn’t have defensive platforms. By the time the Squilla ships launched missiles against them, over three hundred missiles were headed into their formations.

  Harmon watched in satisfaction as seven ships had their shields penetrated and were destroyed or knocked out of commission before the fight really got started. Included in the ships hit was a large missile carrier. He knew that had to hurt the offensive capabilities of the dreadnought’s squadron.

  “Cube, Salvage Title,” Harmon called.

  “Cube here,” Mike answered. He was sitting back in his chair in the operations center of the large ship. He was wearing a helmet with the chin strap undone and had light battle armor on, but he was sitting with one leg crossed over the other with a cup of coffee in his hand, blowing on it softly.

  Harmon shook his head. Some veterans aren’t fazed by anything, he thought. “They’ll be coming by Malita and the asteroid belt shortly,” Harmon said. “I don’t think they’ve detected you yet. That thing really does shut down like a defensive platform. It would be hard for our sensors to pick you out on the edge of the belt if we didn’t know exactly where you were.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Mike agreed. “But I gotta tell you, when I hit this button, they’re gonna know we’re here pretty quickly, because the first thing I’m doing is firing up the shields.”

  “Well, there’s no indication they’ve penetrated our communications network, thanks to Clip’s programming, so they still don’t know you’re there,” Harmon said. “Hit that button before the Krift ships start to come by and fire them up. I think you can get two salvos per side out before they’re out of range, then head in-system at best possible speed. I suspect there’ll be several ships immobile for you to take out as well.”

  “Will do,” Mike answered. “Wait! What do you mean ‘penetrated communications?’ You called to check that? What the…you and me gotta have a talk about abusing your troops and stuff, sir. Sheesh! Cube out.”

  Harmon grinned. The retired senior non-commissioned officer knew good and well he had to check the security of their communications. He looked around the bridge and could feel the tension. It was time to lure the Squilla in.

  “Task Force TDF, make your move now,” Harmon ordered over the command link.

  “Roger,” Captain Opawn answered. “Swinging wide now.”

  At her command, the eight ships in the Tretrayon Defense Fleet and three of the ships belonging to Tomeral and Associates swung out to starboard and separated themselves from Task Force SF. They were moving out wide to come in on an X attack to make the Squilla react to them.

  Harmon was betting the Squilla expected this, because it had worked against them in the past. He wanted the commander of the invasion fleet to think there were only twenty-seven ships defending the system. There would have been fewer, if the four Nazrooth destroyers hadn’t been crewed. The way they were formed up in the Nazrooth Diamond, though, it was possible they appeared as one ship to the Squilla.

  At the rate of speed they were closing, the battle would begin in two days. Harmon tried to relax. No one could live on adrenaline for two solid days and expect to be fresh for battle. Well, if I was in battle the entire time, I could live on it, he thought. It was going to be a long two days.

  “Adam, magnify that, will you?” he asked, indicating the main screen.

  “Yes, sir,” the tactical officer said.

  Harmon watched as the main screen filled with the image of the invading fleet starting to pass the last planet in the system. Somewhere at the edge of the asteroid belt surrounding it was Cube. It was almost time for it to make its presence known. This should be good, he thought. I wish the system had real defensive platforms instead of the small satellite sensors everywhere, but it does give me a great view, he admitted to himself.

  Harmon watched as the last squadron of Squilla ships started to veer away from the planet. The Krift ships attempted the same, but Mike pushed the button. The sensors indicated a hundred missiles in flight toward the Krift, with another salvo shortly after. The last of the Krift ships launched missiles back, but they were rapidly moving away from Cube, and the distance was growing. By the time the missiles started hitting among the ships, two more salvos had been launched from Cube. In all, over four hundred missiles hit the flank of the last squadron of Krift ships, and five of them were blown away. One ship in the next to last squadron was also seriously damaged, and its helm refused to answer the call. It started to loop around in a large circle.

  “Salvage Title, Cube,” Harmon heard over the command link.

  “Go ahead, Mike,” Harmon said.

  “We put a hurting on them,” Mike said. “We took some hits, though. The defensive lasers took out a lot of them, and the shields held for the most part while I had us turning, so it was spread around. Only two penetrated.”

  “How bad is it?” Harmon asked, shifting toward the front of his seat.

  “Not bad,” Mike answered, looking down at his console. He looked back up over his glasses. “It was an area we don
’t even use. Barracks for troops we don’t have. There’s room to billet a whole battalion on this baby. The Smilps sealed it off, and they’re working to bring the shields back up on that side. We’re good.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Harmon said, relieved. “Watch the ship that’s turning. If there are survivors, they may try and get to you when they come back around. You may have boarders before this is all over.”

  Mike fastened the strap on his helmet and held the coffee up in salute. “Let ’em come! Bradford said he wouldn’t mind a little action, and to be honest, I don’t mind it either.” Mike took a sip of his coffee and made a face. “Dang Smilps, they can fix anything, but they can’t fix a cup of coffee. I knew I should have made my own.”

  “I told you that!” Bradford said. He had been monitoring the call from the bay. “And lay off my guys!”

  * * *

  System Commander One D’Varote was furious. As soon as they came into this accursed system, defensive platforms—that by all the intelligence reports should never have been there—had launched missiles at his fleet. Defensive platforms built from damaged ship hulls—some of them Squilla ships, no less—had launched more than three hundred missiles at them before his fleet had responded in kind. Seven of his fleet’s ships had been destroyed or made combat ineffective. Had the platforms had any type of shielding, it could have been worse.

  One of the ships destroyed was the heavy missile carrier High Tide, a ship he had been counting on to help take out the one ship he was gunning for above all else, Salvage Title. He had intended for the missile carrier to launch salvo after salvo against that one ship, no matter what else was going on during the battle around it. That part of his plan was now nonexistent.

  D’Varote slammed his big claw down on his commander’s platform in frustration. “Tell me what is happening out there,” he demanded of Task Force Commander One G’Hirota.

  “Sir, the defending fleet has split,” answered the ship’s commander. “Eleven ships, including several that match Squilla designs, are swinging wide. The other thirteen are still coming toward us. They are performing a maneuver that worked for them against us in the past.”

  “Twenty-four ships against our remaining forty-four, and the Krift twenty?” D’Varote asked. “They are attempting to split our fleet. Do not deviate. Tell the Krift to come up along that side. Let them take the brunt of the maneuver.”

  “Yes, System Commander One, it will be done,” answered G’Hirota, his eyestalks dipping low.

  “Sir, a large defensive platform has just powered up in the asteroid field near the closest planet!” the tactical officer said loudly. The tactical officer two looked directly at D’Varote. D’Varote was so furious that the tactical officer had addressed him directly that what he said barely registered. He rose up on the platform, ready to put the young officer in his place, when the commander of the ship addressed him.

  Sir,” G’Hirota said urgently. “The platform has incredible shielding, and it is three thousand meters across. It has launched one hundred missiles.”

  “Two hundred now,” the tactical officer interrupted. “Launched at the Krift.”

  “Tell the fools to fire back,” D’Varote ordered. He kept one eyestalk on the upstart tactical officer and the other on the sensor screens. That one requires correction…or promotion, he thought.

  “The Krift are attempting evasive maneuvers and firing salvos of missiles,” G’Hirota confirmed. “Two hundred more missiles have been launched by the platform. The rest of the fleet are moving out of range. Had that platform been closer, more of our fleet would have been engaged.”

  Minutes later, the tactical officer informed the ship’s commander of the five destroyed Krift ships and the disabled one that had to be left behind. He had realized his mistake earlier and didn’t plan on addressing the system commander one again.

  * * *

  On board The Mound, the Krift dreadnought and flagship, Queen Vermell leaped from her raised seat, her wings extended in surprise. “What is that!” She pointed with a limb to the main screen as sensors showed a huge ship powering up.

  “It appears to be a defensive platform, my Queen,” her second, Kalill, said as her grasping limbs flew across the control screen on her console. “It is a Merwick Cube!” she exclaimed.

  “What in the depths of an abandoned hive mound is a Merwick Cube?” Queen Vermell demanded.

  “Records indicate it is an ancient repair facility with defensive platform capabilities,” Kalill informed her. “I would suggest evasive maneuvers immediately!”

  “Make the call!” Vermell screamed at her second in command. “Now!”

  The tactical drone announced, “My Queen, the ships are veering away from the asteroid belt, but at this speed, turning away completely is impossible. Two hundred missiles have been launched by the platform. Fourth Swarm is firing back.”

  Queen Vermell hit the button on her seat’s comm. Her voice went out over the command net to all her ships. “All Swarms, turn harder! I don’t care what the G-forces feel like! Get away from that platform!” Her voice was almost hysterical.

  The communications drone started to turn around and speak but was interrupted.

  “My Queen,” the tactical drone informed her, “two hundred more missiles have been launched by the platform. They are all directed at the rear of our formation. Sensors indicate our missiles are striking the shielding of the platform now.”

  Queen Vermell watched in horror as more than twenty-five percent of her ships and swarm died or were stranded in space. Forth Swarm was gone. The entire invading fleet had passed beyond the range of that…that Cube’s weapons. We had better be successful in this undertaking, she thought. It has already cost the Krift more than we can afford to lose in ships and lives.

  * * *

  “Sir,” Salvage Title’s tactical officer said, “the invading fleet is now down to fifty-eight combat effective ships. They will be in range in forty-seven hours at our present closing speeds.”

  “Thanks, Adam,” Harmon said. “Make sure the information is sent out to the entire Salvage Fleet.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty

  Forty-six hours later, Task Force Kashkal whipped around the planet Joth, using its gravitational pull to gain even more speed, and headed straight toward the invading fleet’s column of ships. When they became noticeable to the invaders, it was too late for them to turn away. If the Squilla had attempted the move, it would only have turned them more toward Task Force TDF and exposed their flank to Task Force Salvage. Rick Kashka grinned to himself. This was going to be a fight for the ages. The plan Captain Tomeral had envisioned was coming together as it was supposed to. The invading fleet had no choice but to fly into the trap.

  “Force One, prepare to engage targets. Force Two, ready yourselves for the Leap Tactic,” he commanded over the Kashkal communications network.

  His ship, the heavy battlecruiser Kashkal’s Legacy, was leading half his fleet. His oldest son Tock Ka’s heavy battlecruiser Kashkal’s Revenge, and its task force, made up of the other half of the fleet. Once the leading task force fired its initial salvo of missiles and took the brunt of the first salvo back from the enemy to its forward shields, all ships would turnover and apply thrust to slow. This would place the untouched rear shields facing the enemy for the next salvo.

  The second Task Force, including Saylonik Ka, his daughter, would leap forward and engage the enemy with their first salvo and untouched shields. The tactic would cause the enemy missiles encountered to be half as effective by spreading the hits around. Meanwhile, the Squilla and Krift ships engaged would be receiving the missiles from all twenty of the Kashkal fleet. Saylonik would also launch the fighters as their task force turned and slowed. Two hundred and fifty fighters would take flight from her ship, Kashkal’s Wings, and another one hundred and ten fighters from across both task forces would launch as well.

  Once his entire fleet was within main weapons range, the po
werful lasers would begin raking the enemy. Using the Weapon Concentration Tactic, five Kashkal ships would coordinate and target one ship, quickly overloading its shielding in that one spot, exposing it to their weapons.

  “Kashka,” his tactical officer said, “targets in range in one minute. Targets are designated to the force. Per your guidance, twenty ships are locked in.”

  “On my mark,” the kashka said across the comms in his entire fleet. “Launch!”

  Once again, the Kashkal were engaged in battle, something they excelled at—which was a good thing, because they lived to fight…and fought to live.

  * * *

  Harmon watched the sensor screen as the Kashkal came around the planet and made themselves known to the incoming fleet. He could just imagine the confusion aboard the bridge of the super dreadnought. Whoever was in command had to know the odds had just been evened out, maybe even moved against them.

  Just like he had planned, the incoming fleet could not turn away from the flank attack without exposing their flank to Task Force Salvage. No matter which decision their leader chose, the weaker shields would be exposed to missiles. The incoming column did not veer away. Harmon nodded to himself. The decision let him know that, besides taking the system, whoever was leading them was looking to take out Salvage Title at the onset.

  “Brickle,” Harmon said, looking over at the spare console now set up to operate the automated minelayers. “Are you ready?”

  “I am,” the Caldivar answered. Two eyes turned toward Harmon, while his third stayed on the console screen. “Just let me know when.”