Run the Gauntlet: Echoes of War Book Six

by Gibbs, Daniel

  “Thanks, Chief.” Calvin cued his commlink and stuck his head back out of the door to see fifty commandos and Marines already in the hangar. “Execute, execute, execute.”

  At that signal, all hell broke loose.

  The Terran Coalition troops drew battle rifles and energy weapons from their concealed positions under the League uniforms they wore. They aimed and fired on any actual enemy present that moved. For at least fifteen seconds, the Leaguers were frozen—almost as if they were automatons run by a computer, and had no set of instructions for what to do in this situation. Eventually, they recovered—and tried to resist. Few of them were armed with anything more than improvised melee weapons and offered little effective opposition.

  Calvin took in the battle with a sense of pride at how the Force Recon Marines and tier-one operators performed. Only a few Leaguers made it anywhere near the exit, and he shot them down with stun rounds as they came into his line of sight. Two minutes later, it was all over. Stunned enemies lay throughout the hangar. “Listen up, Marines! Use ziptie cuffs on all these losers and pile them up around that big shuttle over there. Then form up on me!”

  * * *

  “Conn, TAO. Fifteen seconds to maximum weapons range, sir,” Kelsey called out.

  David stared straight ahead, taking in the imposing sight of the League space installations through the transparent alloy “windows” at the front of the Lion of Judah’s bridge. Onward they’d rushed, going from tiny specks to massive superstructures of alloy, a testament to man’s ability to fabricate structures in the realm of God. He glanced at Ruth. “I’m thinking optimum range for our forward particle beams, followed by an alpha strike of the mag-cannons and neutron beams.”

  “Agreed, sir. What of our missile armament, though?”

  “We’ll hold it in reserve. I want to preserve as many of our Hunter missiles as possible.”

  Ruth nodded and busied herself on the small computer readout built into the XO’s chair.

  “Navigation, slow to one-third. TAO, firing point procedures, forward particle beams, magnetic cannons, and neutron beam emitters, Master Six,” David said as he leaned forward in his seat, anticipation building.

  “Firing solutions set, sir,” Kelsey replied, her voice tight.

  David glanced up at his viewer and the tactical plot it displayed. A ring around the icon representing the Lion showed maximum range, and another, smaller circle displayed the optimum range of their heavy anti-ship weaponry. As the League station entered that ring, he returned his gaze to the front of the bridge. “Match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”

  The lights on the bridge dimmed momentarily, and massive lances of white energy shot out from the bow of the Lion of Judah. All four hit directly in the center of the orbital League station, its shield sphere blazing red. It took all of six seconds for its defensive screens to fail, and the beams to pierce the outer ring of the structure. Explosions dotted the surface around the impact points. Kelsey added magnetic cannon rounds and neutron beam strikes, laying waste to its surface.

  “TAO, status of Master Six?”

  “Master Six is still combat capable, sir.” As if to underscore her point, the bridge shook from sustained plasma cannon fire from the League station.

  David noted with satisfaction that the impacts they were taking seemed to be from non-upgraded plasma weapons, unlike what they’d recently faced on some League battleships and heavy cruisers. “TAO, reload all magnetic cannons, high explosive, and armor-piercing shells.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Ruth leaned over toward him. “Our scans show we took out most of the point defense on their dorsal arc. I recommend a Hunter missile strike there, say ten units.”

  That’s a lot of Hunters. “Are you sure, T—” He stopped himself mid-word, so used to her role. “XO?”

  “Yes, sir. That station’s got incredibly thick armor. We need to knock it out and move on to the next one. Our escorts will neutralize the third as they close in on our position, but we’re in the driver’s seat for the first two.”

  “Agreed, XO,” David replied. He flashed a grin. I need to get her promoted and on to another assignment. Her talents are being wasted. Those thoughts pushed to the background, he focused on the battle at hand. “TAO, firing point procedures, target Master Six, magnetic cannons, neutron beams, and forward VRLS. Make tubes one through ten ready in all respects and open outer doors.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Firing solutions set, outer doors opened.”

  “Match bearing, shoot, all weapons,” David commanded.

  The Lion rumbled as the ten missiles roared out of their launch tubes and into space. Nothing like a full volley attack of all two hundred and forty missiles at once, but it was still enough to be noticed. Without instruction, Kelsey executed a time-on-target attack. The magnetic cannon shells, neutron beams, and Hunter missiles all impacted the same general area of the dorsal hull on the station’s inner ring at the same time. Toward the end of the bombardment, something within the enemy structure started a string of secondary explosions—usually caused by a reactor going critical or a missile armament magazine—they grew in size until half of the outer ring blew off.

  “Conn, TAO. Master Six is no longer combat capable, sir!”

  I’ll give her license to be excited at her first confirmed League station kill. “Acknowledged, TAO. Good shooting.” David turned toward Ruth. “One down, two to go.”

  “We could order our fighters and bombers to assist with the second installation, sir?” Ruth mused.

  David shook his head. “No, I want to hold them in reserve as a battering ram for the main shipyard. We’re going to need every ounce of firepower we can get, and I don’t even want to think about the logistics of trying to rearm the additional craft in anything like a reasonable amount of time for another sortie.”

  “Good point, sir. I forgot about the logistics involved.”

  “Professionals deal with logistics, while amateurs debate tactics. Old military maxim, Lieutenant. Internalize it.” He smiled briefly then spoke again. “Navigation, intercept course, Master Eight.” The next closest station. “All ahead, flank. Communications, signal Colonel Amir to maintain formation with us, and to maintain weapons safe status.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Hammond called back.

  * * *

  It only took the enemy thirty minutes to destroy the three remaining orbital defense stations around Teegarden III. Konstantinov agonized over every one of them, unable to do anything from the shipyard he commanded. Any minute now, they’ll come for us.

  “Enemy flagship, CSV Lion of Judah is moving on an intercept course to us,” the tactical officer on the Trotsky called out.

  Konstantinov glanced up. “Show me the tactical view for two hundred thousand kilometers around the station. Top down, with Z axis notations.”

  The holographic tank morphed and showed them in the center, in orbit around Teegarden III. Four clusters of warships approached, one consisting of the Lion of Judah, while the other three were made up of two of their heavy cruiser class ships. “My estimate is fifteen minutes to engagement range. Do you concur, tactical?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Status of plasma weaponry?”

  “All emplacements are armed and awaiting your orders, sir.”

  “What of the ships in our repair bays?” Konstantinov asked. “It’s been over thirty minutes.”

  “Multiple Rand class heavy cruisers are ready to launch, sir,” the XO answered. “As are six Cobra class destroyers.” The man hesitated at the end.

  “What is it?”

  “Sir, those ships wiped out our garrisons with ease. I don’t believe the few ships we have will be successful or even slow down the enemy.”

  A valid point. “Let’s get the cruisers out, then, and have them stay within our shield grid. They can offer fire support.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The minutes passed slowly as Konstantinov stared at the tactical plot in the
holotank. The Terran Coalition vessels steadily closed the range and adjusted their path so they fell into formation with the Lion of Judah. He pondered their tactics during this time. It would make sense they’d want to mass their firepower. If only we still had our own fighters to mix it up with the Terrans. “Why aren’t the Moskva and Varyag in space yet?” he barked.

  “I’m sorry, Captain; their commanders continue to make excuses.”

  “Get me a direct line,” Konstantinov replied.

  A moment later, a woman in a League uniform appeared in the holotank. “Yes, Captain Konstantinov?”

  “The Moskva must launch, now. If you wait much more, we’ll be risking the station with open doors during a combat situation.”

  “My ship is not ready for active combat, Captain,” she replied, a French accent to her words. “I am attempting to remedy this.”

  Konstantinov’s mouth curled up in disgust. “Enough. Undock from my station, or I will send a political commissar to arrest you for cowardice in the face of the enemy. Do not test me, Commander!”

  His threat had the desired effect. Her jaw dropped open, and fear entered her eyes. “Yes, at once, comrade Captain.” The image cut off.

  “Moskva now maneuvering toward port side space doors, Captain,” the XO commented with a smirk on his face, as if to say “well done.”

  “Captain, I’m showing an energy build-up from the Lion of Judah,” a sensor officer called out a few minutes later from the right side of the operations center. “Same pattern as the other ships before they fired on the fighter garrisons. The tactical computer confirms it’s a concentrated particle beam.”

  It took a moment for Konstantinov to put it together. “What’s the status of the Moskva?”

  “She’s entering space, sir, thirty more seconds.”

  “No! Order her back inside, now!”

  “Sir?” the XO asked, his mouth wide open.

  “Do it!” Konstantinov shouted as the Lion opened fire. Four wide white beams of pure energy poured out of its bow. Crossing the void of space at the speed of light, they impacted on the immense shields of the shipyard at precisely the point they were weakest—the open hangar bay where the Moskva was almost clear of the space doors. Two of the beams punched through the length of the Rand class heavy cruiser, spearing it from end to end. It exploded a moment later, sending a wave of molten debris through the hangar it had previously inhabited.

  “Sir, we’ve got zero-G fires spreading inside of repair bay two and the port side hangar,” the XO reported.

  “Vent the repair bay into space.”

  Silence overcame the operations center before the XO spoke. “Aye, Captain.”

  There’s a thousand people in there. Lenin help me. “Give them a thirty-second count to find shelter or don EVA suits. Tactical, reconfigure our shield emitters to overlap coverage of the arcs presented to the Terrans.”

  The tactical officer turned around in his seat. “But, sir, that carries the risk of catastrophic overload if they successfully overwhelm the local generators.”

  Konstantinov smiled thinly. “Lieutenant, they won’t be able to pierce our shields with the few ships they have. Now do it. And communications, ensure Admiral Hartford knows our current situation.”

  * * *

  Simultaneously on the bridge of the Lion of Judah, David’s face was bathed in blue light as he stared at the tactical plot. They were still closing the distance to Master One—the League shipyard. He watched with satisfaction as the enemy cruiser they’d targeted disappeared from his monitor, and a bright orange explosion faded from view out of the transparent alloy “windows” in front of him. “Nice shooting, TAO.” He grinned toward Kelsey.

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied.

  “Communications, order all ships abreast to synchronize their firing patterns with us. TAO, firing point procedures, magnetic cannons, and neutron beam emitters, Master One.”

  “Firing solutions set, sir.”

  “Match bearings, shoot, all weapons,” David ordered.

  The Lion rumbled again as her massive magnetic cannons spat helicar-sized shells and neutron beams crisscrossed the void. The range was still high for a normal engagement, but their target was an immobile space station—every shot connected, impacting against its shields. Red flares of energy were visible, wrapping the enemy installation in a sheath of color that was almost beautiful.

  Something’s wrong. We should’ve seen at least some hull damage. David leaned forward in his seat. “TAO, did our escorts strike the target with us?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m showing one hundred percent success rate across the fleet,” Kelsey replied, and glanced back at him.

  “TAO, scan the target with our forward array. I specifically want you to look for shield reinforcement.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A few moments passed. Ruth touched David’s arm and pointed to her monitor.

  “Conn, TAO. It looks to me like they pulled energy from other shield arcs and reinforced the one we’re firing on.”

  The XO’s screen showed the same thing. The other side of the station had almost no defensive screen energy, but the arc they faced was reinforced to ten times its standard protection rating. “And if we send part of the fleet around, one, they’ll take enemy fire, two, the station will reconfigure its shields and we still won’t be able to break through.”

  Silence descended over the bridge.

  “Sir, what are your orders?” Ruth asked quietly.

  “I’m still thinking, XO,” David replied as he stared at the plot. “TAO, if we fire everything we’ve got, including our particle beams, will we break through based on your scans?”

  Kelsey turned back toward the CO’s/XO’s chairs. “I’m not sure, sir.”

  “We still have our bombers in play.”

  David immediately started running each scenario through his mind before incoming plasma charges from the Leaguers diverted his attention. A volley of concentrated red bolts slammed into the Lion’s shields, along with the rest of the heavy cruisers in formation with them. He noted that the main shipyard seemed to have outdated plasma cannons as well. Makes sense, if they only have so many, defensive installations in the heart of their inner space would be the last to receive them. Still, the ship rumbled from the impact. “Good point, XO,” David said as he stroked his chin. “Okay. Here’s the plan. We’re going to continue to close distance and line up our entire weapons suite along with every ship in the fleet, while the fast movers engage at the same time.”

  Ruth’s voice was quiet but insistent. “What if that’s not enough, sir?”

  “Then we pull back and figure something else out,” David whispered back.

  * * *

  “Major, orders from General Cohen. All bombers are to move ahead and engage with the fleet. Target Master One.” Amir’s voice echoed through Hume’s helmet commlink.

  “Understood, Colonel. Venit Hora and sister squadrons are moving to attack.”

  Hume pushed his flight stick to the right, and his craft, large as it was, responded instantly. The bombers carried a dozen modified Starbolt missiles, which excelled at capital ship interdiction. They weren’t quite as powerful as the models found on CDF capital ships, but nevertheless, they did the job. “This is Hume to all heavy strike craft. Form on my squadron. We’re taking a run at the League shipyard.”

  Green acknowledgment lights lit up to all fifteen bomber squadrons under his command. Through the tactical HUD in his helmet, he noted with satisfaction how the craft all flew together as if they’d done this a thousand times before. Nothing beats CDF training. The flying wedge pawed the vacuum for ten minutes before they started to enter target-acquisition range.

  “Hume to all bombers, obtain positive lock. Maintain weapons safe status until I give the order to fire.” Surprisingly little resistance. Perhaps taking out their fighter garrisons took the fight out of the Leaguers for once. With that happy thought in his mind, they continued.

  1
8

  Red lights flashed in the operations center of the Trotsky, a byproduct of their battle alert status. Konstantinov stared at the holotank, watching the mass of enemy ships, backed by hundreds of fighters and bombers, approaching at flank speed.

  “They’re not being cautious at all,” his XO observed.

  Konstantinov grimaced. “No. I must assume we face Colonel David Cohen on the Lion of Judah. Our most recent intelligence suggests he was promoted. Perhaps he commands the entire fleet over there.”

  “Enemy small craft have obtained weapons lock, Captain!” the tactical officer called out.

  “Activate electronic counter-measures.” Like it’ll do any good. Terran Coalition technology is far better than ours. Staring at the plot, Konstantinov allowed himself a small grin. But what the Terrans don’t know about our defenses might be their undoing. While much of the station’s weaponry was outdated, its shield had been upgraded significantly during a refit less than five years ago. League military planners believed the biggest threat to static assets were from CDF carrier battlegroups, not capital ships. Perhaps they got it right for once.

  “Sixty seconds to known missile range, Captain.”

  Time ticked down as the wave of enemy vessels got closer and closer. At thirty seconds, Konstantinov sprang into action. “Tactical, open the point defense cannon outer doors, activate automated tracking system.” Now we’ll see how good this upgrade really is.

  More seconds ticked away. “Captain, point defense cannon doors are open, automated tracking system active.”

  Konstantinov laid his head back on the chair. “Weapons free.”

  * * *

  “Stand by for maximum range Starbolt launch,” Hume said into his commlink, his rich British accent evident. He stared at his HUD as the range steadily decreased. The shipyard itself now enveloped his forward view. Its size was breathtaking and would have been a thing of wonder. If it wasn’t an enemy factory of death, creating ship after ship to attack our home. His finger hovered over the trigger on his flight stick. I’m ready to send this League monstrosity back to hell, where it belongs.