by D. J. Holmes
Scott nodded. “Inform the others we’re jumping, then take us in,” she replied. Moments later she was rocked in her command chair as Misfit jumped into shift space and jumped out again a second later. Her restraints tightened as the cruiser’s impulse engines kicked in. Every Karacknid warship in the system would know she had arrived. Scott’s focus wasn’t on the enemy ships though. Not yet. Instead she watched the space around Misfit. When ten other contacts appeared beside her, all accelerating along the same trajectory, she smiled. The other Captains were with her. Likely, they were all about to die. But at least they would do so together.
Chapter 22
I have spoken before about the contribution one life makes. Often I wonder what Commodore Scott would have produced if she had focused her energies solely on scientific and technological projects rather than commanding warships.
-Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.
IS Misfit, 16th March 2484 AD.
“Plot a course around each of the convoys,” Scott ordered as her squadron charged into the system. “Keep us two powered missile lengths from the freighters. Let’s see if we can show the Karacknids we have no interest in their ships.” When her First Lieutenant looked at her, she shrugged. “It’s worth a try.” With so many convoys, if all their escorts turned to fight her, she would never make it through the system. Yet she couldn’t afford to take a wide course around them. By the time she did, the Karacknid battlefleet would be too far ahead of her.
“The rear convoy is increasing speed,” Misfit’s sensor officer reported. “Wait, their escorts are turning.
“So are the escorts from the next two convoys,” another officer added.
“I guess they don’t believe us,” Scott said to her officers. “I can’t say I blame them,” she added to lighten the mood. From the Karacknids’ perspective, their lightly defended convoys would seem like her ships’ prime target. “Prepare the squadron to fire all our multistage missiles. Let’s give the first group of escort ships a hammering.” Scott ordered. “Time it so our third salvo strikes them a couple of minutes before they enter powered missile range.”
As her eleven ships fired three volleys in quick succession, the twenty Karacknid escorts didn’t waver. They accelerated straight for Misfit. Consisting only of frigates and destroyers, in any straight up fight, Scott would have bet on her ships. The problem was, defeating one group of escorts meant nothing when there would be eleven more coming in behind them. Still, she willed on her missiles as they closed with the enemy. Her first salvo destroyed three ships. Her second five more and then the third took out all but four of the Karacknids. When they opened fire themselves, they could only put out twelve missiles. To finish them off, Scott ordered a half salvo of mark IVs. None of the Karacknid missiles made it through the point defense fire of her ships. In contrast, the final four Karacknid ships were easily blown apart. One down, eleven to go, Scott thought as she racked her brain for some way to get past them. She was out of multistage missiles.
With her ships quickly catching up to the freighters in the rearmost convoy, Scott wished she could spare even ten minutes to close with them and release a couple of missile salvos. Out of fear that she would do just that, the freighters were scattering in every direction. But she still could have hit them hard. We’ll have to settle for causing confusion, she consoled herself. The escorts from the second rearmost convoy were closing with the scattered freighters in an effort to protect them. “Give the next convoy a wider berth,” Scott ordered as she decided it was worth trying again. “Double the distance that will be between us.”
“Aye Commodore,” the navigation officer responded.
For several minutes Scott watched the Karacknid forces, wondering if they would understand her course change. She was certain the escorts from the second rearmost convoy wouldn’t seek to engage her. Not when she had obliterated the rearmost convoy escort so easily. If she took them out, two convoys would be at her mercy. But sooner or later the Karacknids were bound to combine their forces.
“Look!” Misfit’s First Lieutenant said as he leaned forward in his command chair. “The convoys, they’re altering course!”
Scott could hardly believe it. The escorts from the second rearmost convoy were herding the rearmost convoy freighters back into a defensive formation just as she expected. But the rest of the convoys were pulling away from their direct course to the next shift passage. They were almost mirroring Scott’s curved trajectory that had her avoiding them. Frowning, she tried to figure out what the Karacknids were thinking. If they pulled the escorts from their leading convoys, they could combine them and confront her with sixty or eighty warships. But what if I was bluffing about our speed? Or our missile range? she asked herself as she put herself in the minds of the Karacknids. They had no way of knowing she didn’t have ten or twenty more salvos of multistage missiles. Coming from another war, they wouldn’t be as familiar with Human warships as the other Karacknids. If they pulled their escorts back to fight her, she could slip past them and have free range to engage the leading convoys. When a single warship broke away from the forward most convoy and went to full military acceleration, Scott realized what the Karacknids had decided. The warship would bring news to the battlefleet about her ships’ presence. Either they’re calling for help or informing the battlefleet about us so that they can handle us when we follow them. “I think they’re going to let us past,” Scott said to her officers, surprise filling her voice. “Maintain course and watch them closely.”
As the minutes ticked by and the Karacknids continued to pull out of Misfit’s way, Scott could hardly believe their luck. Her destruction of the first group of escorts must have spooked the rest of them. Or the cargo of their convoys is extremely important, Scott decided. The latter was probably the most likely. That worried her even more. It was almost unheard of for Karacknids to pass up a fight. Which makes it all the more important to get to James, Scott told herself. If the convoys in front of her carried enough supplies for the battlefleet she had glimpsed to advance on Earth immediately, there would be no way to stop them if James’ fleet was lost. “Get me Chief Engineer Houlihan,” Scott requested. Scott had played a hand in designing many of Misfit’s systems. Her cruiser had been built to last for years but if all they had left were a few days, there were a few changes they could make. Ones that might give them a chance. They had five hours before they could jump into shift space and then a four day journey to the next system. If the Karacknids were going to leave her alone, she was going to use every minute of them.
*
Misfit, 20th March 2484 AD (four days later).
With no time to spare, Scott jumped her squadron into the next system right on its mass shadow. Her ships immediately went to full power. Her crews had been busy. Every non-essential system had been disconnected from the ship’s power relays. Extra powerlines had been hooked up to the impulse engines and massive amounts of excess energy were being fed into them. Most of the ship’s outer sections had been abandoned and inertial compensators pulled and focused on the bridge and personnel quarters. Valstronium armor had been stripped from the rear and sides of the ships and focused on their nose to protect from cosmic particles. As far more energy flowed through the impulse engines than they were rated for, Scott’s ships catapulted themselves into the system. Houlihan estimated that their impulse engines wouldn’t last more than a couple of days if that.
Just as Scott expected, the Karacknids had a welcoming party for her. One hundred light ships were fanned out all around the mouth of the shift passage. She had exited right on the very edge of the passage. With her ships already lined up to forge away from the side of the shift passage, only a handful were able to give chase thanks to her ships’ increased acceleration. For twelve minutes a missile duel ensued. Six Karacknids were destroyed. None managed to get enough missiles into one salvo to penetrate Scott’s point defenses.
“Great work everyone,” Scott said as soon as they were free. “Plot u
s a course directly to the next shift passage,” she added.
“Engines are holding at the moment Commodore,” the Sub Lieutenant Scott had ordered to focus on monitoring them reported.
“The others?” Scott asked as she glanced at her First Lieutenant.
“Mongoose is reporting some minor fluctuations, but they’re working to stabilize them,” her First Lieutenant answered.
“What are we looking at…” Scott began to ask as she turned her gaze to the wider system. What she saw made her next word catch in her throat. The display from Misfit’s gravimetric sensors was a blur of contacts. “What on Earth?” she asked as her mouth fell open. “That can’t be!” There were nearly ten thousand contacts slowly moving into the system. They formed one massive ball of ships that seemed to dominate the entire system. It could only be the Karacknid battlefleet. Yet there were so many!
“Gravimetric sensors are functioning normally Commodore,” Misfit’s sensor officer responded, her voice full of awe. “They are real. Gravimetric signatures indicate they are all warships.”
Scott swallowed hard. Ten thousand ships was almost as many as the Karacknids had stationed along the front line with Alliance space. If they moved the entire fleet she was looking at up to the front, they’d likely be able to conquer all of the Alliance in one offensive. If they send them against us, we are doomed, she knew. Suddenly the massive amounts of supply freighters she had flown past made sense. So many ships would gobble up fuel like no one’s business. Scott was almost tempted to turn and attack the convoys. If she could destroy one or two of them, she might be able to slow the Karacknid fleet’s offensive. Yet if she didn’t warn James, his fleet would be wiped out and Earth lost anyway. And your ships are in no condition to fight a proper battle, Scott reminded herself. She had to press on. Somehow, she had to get around the Karacknid fleet. “Plot us a course around them, keep us two light minutes from them at all times,” she ordered.
“It may not be as bad as it looks,” Misfit’s tactical officer said. “Look at their acceleration rates. With so many ships in one formation, they’re slow. Especially given how much acceleration we can put out.”
They haven’t made it too far into the system yet, Scott said as she started to feel a glimmer of hope. Her ship’s race through the last system had allowed her to catch up with the Karacknids. The battlefleet was less than two hours ahead of her. No, she corrected herself, two hours without our modifications. Now, they were just over an hour ahead of her. “How long until they reach the mass shadow?”
“Three hours Commodore,” an officer replied.
Scott nodded. If they could get ahead of the Karacknid fleet, they might just make it to the next system and warn James in time for him to pull back. The blaring of alarms snapped Scott’s head around. She was just in time to see Ladybird fall out of formation as her impulse engines died. A second later she disappeared in a blinding flash. Scott let out a string of expletives. One of the destroyer’s impulse engines must have overloaded. It had sent a cascade of energy back to its reactors. There was nothing her crew could have done. By the time they received a warning it would have been too late. As she glanced at her own officers, Scott saw fear on more than one face. It could happen to anyone of her ships at any moment. Impulse engines weren’t designed to handle so much thrust. “Focus on your tasks,” she said to her officers. “Things are going to get far worse before they get better. This is about more than just our lives.” Her words received several nods as everyone turned back to their stations. Scott doubted it would curb their fear for long, she felt the same trepidation pulling at her heart.
“We’ve got movement from the Karacknid battlefleet,” a sensor officer said, pulling everyone’s thoughts away from Ladybird. “Light ships are breaking away.”
It wasn’t hard for Scott to figure out where they were going. Minutes later it was clear more than a hundred frigates and destroyers were moving to block her ships’ attempt to pass the Karacknid battlefleet. We can’t fight that many, Scott thought. “Assume we are seeing their maximum acceleration rates for this destroyer variant. Estimate how much faster their frigates can go. Use it to plot us a wider course around this intercepting squadron. We have a small amount of time to spare. Just make sure we get to the next shift passage ahead of the Karacknid battlefleet. But don’t plan the change of course for another ten minutes. Let’s let the small Karacknid squadron get far enough away from the battlefleet that they won’t be able to send reinforcements.”
“Working on it Commodore,” Misfit’s First Lieutenant replied as he moved over to the navigation console. “We have it ready,” he informed Scott half a minute later. After reviewing the course, Scott nodded to give her approval. “Alter course,” she commanded when the ten minutes were up.
Just moments after her fleet turned onto their new heading the Karacknid squadron responded. Forty-four frigates accelerated ahead of the destroyers. Scott kept her face impassive. She had been hoping there would be less frigates in the squadron. Forty-four frigates would give the Karacknids a missile salvo of eighty-eight missiles. There’s nothing we can do about it, she thought. Her ship’s new course would allow the frigates to briefly engage her squadron. She didn’t have the time to try and avoid them any further. “How many salvos will they get off?”
“Just two Commodore,” Misfit’s tactical officer answered. “Then we’ll be clear of them.”
“More movement from the main Karacknid battlefleet. Frigates are breaking out of formation. They’re racing straight for the shift passage,” a sensor officer reported hastily.
Scott grimaced as she assessed the new situation. The Karacknid commander wasn’t content to rely on two salvos from his frigates to take her out. Thanks to her wide arc around the Karacknid fleet, the new group of frigates stood a decent chance of catching her just before her ships jumped out of the system. Scott wanted to swear again, but she didn’t want to worry her officers any more than they already were. “We’ll worry about them later,” she said. “Prepare the squadron for these coming salvos.”
Scott could do nothing but watch as her ships closed with the first squadron of Karacknid frigates. As soon as she came into range, she ordered her ships to fire. One and then a second salvo shot out from Misfit before the Karacknid frigates were left in the dust by the cruiser’s massive acceleration. The two salvos of missiles the Karacknids had fired were able to catch up though. As the first eighty-eight missiles tried to punch through her point defenses, Scott found herself pumping her fist as missile after missile was taken out. Only two got close enough to attempt to attack their targets. Audacious artfully dodged the missile targeted at her. Duke was not so lucky. The missile targeting her detonated half a kilometer off her starboard bow. Scott held her breath as antimatter washed over the warship. When the destroyer’s nose appeared at the other side, she sighed in relief. Her gaseous shields had been thick enough to negate much of the antimatter. “Order Duke to the far side of the formation. Her shields will be too depleted to survive another proximity hit,” Scott ordered. From the look of the destroyer it appeared she had lost some point defenses as well. “Let’s get ready for the next salvo.”
Before the second Karacknid salvo caught up with her ships, Scott had the pleasure of watching her missiles ravage the Karacknid frigates. Being so small and with limited point defenses, it only took one or two grazer beams to destroy a frigate. After both of her missile salvos crashed home, twenty-eight of the Karacknid ships were gone. As satisfying as destroying them was, Scott couldn’t help but glance at the massive Karacknid battlefleet. Destroying a handful of frigates meant nothing compared to what Misfit’s sensors were detecting.
“Engaging second salvo in twenty seconds,” Misfit’s tactical officer announced.
Just before the first long range AM missiles were launched, alarms blared from several secondary consoles. Scott recognized one as a collision alert and turned to look at her own ships. Duke had suddenly altered course. The destroyer l
ooked like she was trying to burst through the middle of Scott’s formation. She was trailing a line of debris and flames. “One of her impulse engines is overloading!” Scott called. “Get out of her way!”
For a couple seconds her heart leapt into her mouth. It looked like Duke was going to collide with Sparrow. At the last moment, Sparrow pulled her nose up out of the way. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the threat disappeared. Every ship in Scott’s squadron had managed to avoid being hit. Duke was ploughing away from the formation on her own. The damage had been done, however. With her ships scattered, their point defense fire was haphazard and uncoordinated. Scott gripped her command chair as almost ten missiles got close enough to hit her ships. Multiple antimatter explosions detonated. The only saving grace for her ships was that being spread out meant one proximity hit couldn’t threaten two ships at once. Even so, Scott knew her ships were in real danger. As Misfit suddenly veered off course, Scott’s hands were flung off her command chair. She felt something snap in one of her wrists. As she fought back a scream of pain, her vision closed and then blacked out from the g-forces. A second later and they snapped open again. She was just in time to see and feel Misfit’s bridge tremble as a shockwave passed through the center of the ship. Antimatter had struck her command throwing off the ship’s momentum! Alarms blared all around her.