His tactical officer assured him the only active ships were three days away, and there were only ten of them. One was of an unknown design, but it was only the size of a medium battlecruiser. It was the ship that had given the first task force so much trouble, as identified by its strange sensor readings.
“Increase speed,” L’Kivil ordered to his entire task force.
* * *
“Great job, Jayneen,” Harmon said.
“It was exhilarating, though a part of me is sad to have used those ships up like that. They are not aware, but I was linked into their computers for a time,” Jayneen said.
“Well, get ready, because you have to control eight of them in about three days,” Clip said.
“Yes, but those are just weapons platforms now. I don’t have to move them,” the AI said.
“Thiss iss true, but you will have many more missiless to keep track of,” Zerith said.
“A lot of them will be fire and forget, coming from some of the ships with no bridges,” Harmon said. “I want you to fire at the most extreme range you can and fire at them until you can’t anymore. Take out their missile ships as soon as you can. If you get all of those, then lay it into that mega-dreadnought. They will retaliate, and there is little shielding on those wrecks, but you may be able to get off four full salvos.” The AI started calculating the range.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Sir, the Squilla will be in range in two hours,” Harmon said. “Once our platforms start firing, the enemy won’t be able to get out of the kill box. At the speed they’re going, they can alter their course, but their momentum will still bring them all within range,”
“Good, we need to take as many out as we can before we meet them head on,” Admiral Timerton said. “An hour after they come past those platforms, the entire fleet will be engaged. I have assigned Vanot to fly as escort for Salvage Title. It has its own weapons plus the missiles from Tripton.”
“Outstanding, sir. It’s going to be another surprise for them,” Harmon said.
Two days ago, Zerith had casually walked onto the bridge and let Harmon know that he had an idea. He had explained, between bites of a green-and-red-striped apple, that they could lock a few of the ships with power plants beyond repair to the hulls of running ships. If they then ran power cables to the damaged ships, they ought to be able to get some weapons working and maybe even some shields, too. After working nonstop for two days, the four fleet ships now had the fire power of eight. Two of them had the capabilities to launch forty-eight missiles in one volley.
“We have the Marines on Tretra in case some of the dropships get through, which might happen. Several hours ago, a carrier peeled off from the rest and began swinging around toward the planet. We can’t afford to send a ship after it. Your ship is the only one with the speed to intercept it, but that dreadnought is coming right down our throats,” Admiral Timerton said.
“We could send fighters, sir,” Harmon suggested.
“We could, but they would be out of fuel. We can’t have them stranded in space somewhere, along with everything else that’s going on.”
Jayneen brought up all of the power plants at the same time. They had been powered down to the bare minimum to mask their energy readings. A little over one minute later, one hundred and sixteen missiles leapt out toward the incoming Squilla task force. They were a quarter of the way to their targets when another volley left their tubes. When the first rounds were halfway, one hundred more missiles flew out. One of the platforms had a power surge and did not respond to Jayneen’s remote command.
By this time, the Squilla ships had launched missiles in return. Over four hundred missiles were headed in toward the ambush site. With the distance between the task force and the platforms shrinking, Jayneen was able to send one more wave of one hundred missiles before the damaged ships were shredded and unable to respond to her commands. The next wave of Squilla missiles was wasted on what was left of the makeshift defense platforms.
When the Squilla task force came through the wreckage of the ambush site, there were only eighteen ships still capable of fighting. Of four hundred and thirty-two missiles, forty-six had eluded the lasers and hit shields, and nine of those shields had been penetrated. Jayneen had concentrated on the missile ships, but other ships had been hit, too. The dreadnought was still leading the charge, but even its shields had been weakened.
* * *
L’Kivil saw the energy readings at the site of the last battle spike at the same time his tactical officer called it out. Four ships were still capable of providing power to their weapons. His ships were not in range to fire on them yet when over a hundred missiles were launched toward them. He could not order the launch because the missiles would go out away from his fleet toward stationary targets. Those same targets could launch at his task force because they were coming to the target. It was simple math. He slammed his big claw on the platform, in frustration.
“Sir, we cannot evade at this rate of speed, and the defense lasers will be less accurate because of the closing speeds of the incoming missiles,” his tactical officer told him.
Minutes later, L’Kivil asked, “How many?”
“Four hundred and thirty-two missiles were launched at us. Several of our ships have been disabled,” the tactical officer said. As he said it, the dreadnought shuddered as several missiles hit its forward shield.
“Forward shields down to eighty percent, sir. Our missiles are just now striking the targets. There appears to be little shielding. There will be no more missiles fired from there,” his tactical officer said.
Aboard the large missile carrier Undersea Volcano, its commander watched as its rapid lasers went off in a never-ending wave. It was not enough. The entire ship jolted as the missiles hit the shields. He was still watching when two missiles, one after another, seemed to strike the clear-steel portals of the bridge…and blow it away.
* * *
“Three minutes until they are within range, sir,” weapons said.
“Thanks, Bev,” Harmon said. It was time. Either they would survive this battle, or it would mean the end to the system. The end to Joth, his home. He thought of Rinto and wondered what he was doing. Probably sitting behind a makeshift barricade, armed to the teeth in case the Squilla put troops on the planet. Frost! Most of the planet probably had weapons in hand as they all waited on the results of this battle.
The president of the system had made the invasion announcement thirty minutes ago, and it had been broadcast throughout the system. The beings of Joth were armed and ready. Tretra was a different matter; its population didn’t have weapons. If the Squilla landed, it was going to be bad…really bad. He hoped Evelyn and her Marines were prepared.
“Missiles away,” weapons announced.
“Incoming,” tactical announced at the same time.
“Forty missiles inbound,” Jayneen said in the DB.
“Forty! It has to be from the dreadnought. Position One, fire four groups of shotgun missiles. Time it for two seconds from crossing point,” Clip said.
“Sixteen away,” said the Leethog sitting at defense position one.
“The Squilla have launched fighters. It appears to be all they have available. Sensors indicate over four hundred fighters inbound,” Jayneen said.
“Flight Deck. This is DB. Launch all fighters,” Clip called down.
“Roger, launching all fighters,” the flight officer confirmed.
“Thirty-two of the inbound missiles were stopped by the shotgun missiles,” three said. “Engaging with lasers.”
Two missiles hit the forward shields, bringing them noticeably down. The missiles the dreadnought were firing were more powerful than the ones that had preceded it. Too many more of those, and the ship would start taking real damage.
“Zerith, prepare for turnover maneuvers,” Harmon called.
“We are ready, it sshould help sspread the impactss around the sshieldss, too,” Zerith said.
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“Firing forward main weapons,” weapons announced.
“Helm, begin rotation,” Harmon said.
Salvage Title started firing its cannons as it rotated, giving the banks of each pulse cannon time to recharge. All of its shots were aimed at the mega-dreadnought. The weapons officer continued to launch missiles as they were loaded into the tube.
Time seemed to slow as the ship shuddered, both from the cannons firing and the missiles impacting against the shields. Finally, a missile impacted against the side of the battlecruiser; the shields on that side had given way. Major damage was done to several decks, and two pulse cannons on that side were destroyed. Repair crews were scrambling. Fires were fought, compartments sealed against exposure to open space…and crew members died.
The damage happened on the opposite side of the ship from the flight deck, but several crew members were knocked away from the deck, and the only thing that saved them were the tethers attached to their suits. All of the fighters but the Zax had been launched. The flight officer ordered the bay door closed.
“Status report! Get me a report!” Harmon yelled as he climbed back into his seat. There was smoke coming from one of the consoles. It was shut down, and the junior engineering officer ran to the backup console and started calling out which decks were breached and which were just damaged.
“Adam, what’s the status of the dreadnought?” Harmon asked over the sounds of alarms.
“It’s damaged, sir! It’s venting atmosphere and it is showing major power fluctuations. It has not fired any missiles in the last two minutes. Only one of its main lasers seems to be working, though it has missed us on its last three shots,” tactical announced.
“Hit it again, Bev. Helm, keep that side away from them in case they fire again. Target missiles toward the heavy cruiser,” Harmon ordered. He noticed the cruiser turning toward them, and felt like they might get the upper hand after all.
* * *
“Fire a full spread at that heavy cruiser,” Captain Arton ordered. It was time to get into the battle; the enemy had come in range.
Admiral Timerton was observing from his station off to the side of the ship’s commander. It was the captain’s ship, and he did his best to let the ship’s commander fight the ship as he saw fit. He noticed the symbols for fighters entering the fray as the ship’s tactical officer said, “Admiral, the Squilla have launched over four hundred fighters.”
“Get them all out, Wynton,” he told Captain Arton.
“Tretrayon fleet,” Captain Arton called. “Launch all fighters and engage the enemy fighters. I say again, launch all fighters.”
Three hundred and eighty fighters launched from the fleet, the majority of which came from Aganon, the last remaining Tretrayon fighter carrier. It took several launch waves before they were all in space.
“Sir, the dreadnought has started coming apart. Salvage Title and Vanot went head to head with it. Vanot has lost most of its engines but continues to fire half salvos of missiles from Tripton, which is attached to it,” the tactical officer of Tretra’s Pride said. “All ships are engaging.”
* * *
In Salvage Title’s power plant, Zerith had been frantically trying to keep Fusion Plant Three from initiating shutdown. Its temperatures were beyond the safety parameters. He did all he could and looked over at Kyla.
“Sshut it down. There iss nothing we can do,” Zerith said.
“Yes, it is best,” she agreed, nodding her head. There was a trickle of blood down one side of her face. She had been knocked into a console after a missile impact and had refused medical attention. There was no quit in that race, Zerith thought approvingly.
“Engineering to bridge. Initiating sshut down of Fussion Plant Three. There will be an additional three ssecondss added to the main guns’ energy bank charging time,” he called up.
“Roger that,” the young engineer said. She informed tactical and weapons.
* * *
Across, over, below, and between the huge ships slugging it out, another battle was being fought. Fighters swooped, rolled, dodged, and jinked in space combat. The bulky Squilla fighters were slower and less maneuverable than the Tretrayon fighters and were even worse off against the sleek fighters from Salvage Title. This evened the odds, despite the numerical advantage the Squilla had. Additionally, whenever a Leethog saw an opening, they broke loose from the dogfights and fired missiles at the larger ship’s engines below them.
Stan had just released the last of his missiles at a light cruiser when his fighter was raked with laser fire from a Squilla craft. He had already lost his rear shield, so the laser blasts destroyed the main engines in his fighter. He had the battery-powered maneuvering thrusters and comms, but not much else.
“This is Bravo Five. I have lost main engines,” he called over the fighter channel. “I am initiating plant shutdown.”
Stan shut down the power plant, and his fighter drifted. With the plant offline, the fighter didn’t show up on other craft’s sensors as a viable threat, and Stan hoped the Squilla fighter pilots wouldn’t see it in the vastness of space and target it again. His encoded distress beacon activated automatically, and he sat, watched the flashes in the distance, and hoped the battle would end soon so he could restart the plant and the heater.
Thirty minutes later, he saw a shadow cross over the cockpit. Hank was looking at him upside down. He had matched Stan’s drift and rotation. He grinned, waving down, and Stan waved up at his brother. Hank flipped his fighter and engaged the magnetic struts that locked it to the flight deck, and Stan felt the fighters come together. It was so cold in his fighter he couldn’t feel his ears in the helmet. He started his power plant and wondered how the rest of the battle went.
* * *
Supreme Commander L’Kivil appeared on the screen on the bridge of the heavy troop carrier. “Commander Two W’Coltah, you will swing Endless Krill around and approach the home world of this system and send the dropships and all the claw soldiers to the planet. Shell Commander One N’Tikah, I want you to destroy the capitol and make them sue for peace. I believe we will be victorious; we have almost twice as many ships as the humans, despite the cowardly ambushes, and we will support you from orbit. After this is over, I will await the decision from the king. We will either subjugate these humans or destroy them like the last system. If it were my decision, I would eradicate the species.”
“Yes, sir,” W’Coltah said.
“It will be done,” N’Tikah said. He was dressed in a mottled mesh covering his shell, with vented armor over the soft, vital parts of his body. On his small claw, a laser rifle was strapped in place. He and his claw soldiers would be ready.
Five hours later, the fleets were in range of one another. L’Kivil had decided to take on the battlecruiser that had caused so much damage. Its reading were strange, and his tactical officer could find no reference to that class of ship other than the reports that had been sent from the skirmishes with his race’s ships. The reports had to have been exaggerated; a medium battlecruiser could not do that much damage by itself. Even now, a light cruiser was flying overwatch. How much damage could those two ships do? he thought. Tidal Wave was much more powerful, even against their combined might.
“Launch missiles,” he ordered.
“Missiles launched,” weapons replied.
“Incoming,” tactical said. “Twenty missiles are inbound from the strange ship, and forty-eight are coming from the light cruiser!” he shouted.
“What? From a light cruiser? That ship does not show to be a missile carrier,” L’Kivil yelled. “Fire the main weapons!”
“We will not be in range for the main lasers for five minutes, sir,” weapons answered reluctantly.
“Sir, thirty-two missiles from our salvo have been destroyed or went off course before they reached the ship’s shields,” the tactical officer said, perplexed, before being thrown from his position as two massive energy blasts rocked the forward shields, followed quickly by the exp
losions from the six missiles that had breached the rapid laser defense system. The smell of burning wires came from the ventilation system as some of the relays to the shield generators overloaded.
“Sir, forward shields down to sixty percent,” tactical called out.
“Keep launching full salvos and fire the main lasers on the missile carrier when it comes in range,” L’Kivil demanded.
Four more energy blasts pounded the forward shields, followed shortly after by two more. The rain of missiles seemed endless. Smoke covered the lower portion of the room; its acrid smell overloaded his senses.
Reports were coming in from the task force. They were taking missiles and shots from ships with twice the firepower their reports said they should have. Some of their shields seemed impenetrable.
“Launch all fighters!” he ordered, looking for any way to turn this around.
The heavy cruiser Fourteen Seas had maneuvered within range of the unknown cruiser and was preparing to fire when it was struck with missiles from the damaged human battlecruiser.
Tidal Wave refused to answer the helm’s command, and Supreme Commander One L’Kivil knew it was hopeless. The artificial gravity began going in and out, and six of his legs had to grip onto the commander’s platform to stay atop it. Damage reports were coming in, and the pounding was not stopping. What type of weapon was that? What race has raw energy as a cannon round? he asked to himself.
The flight leaders were reporting heavy losses. There were fighters they had never seen before outmaneuvering and outgunning them. They would not turn the tide of the battle.
L’Kivil knew the task force would not be providing orbital support for the claw soldiers, although they still had a chance because the system didn’t have an abundance of ground warriors. They could take the capitol and hold it until the king could put together another task force. It could be pieced together and in-system within six months, he thought, just before the ship exploded.
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