by Chris Hechtl
“Sir, are we going to leave the destroyers behind to protect the transports?” Captain Mueller asked over the tactical link.
“No,” the captain replied, shaking his head. “They'll have to fend for themselves, I want the destroyers to help run the enemy down.” He glared at the squadrons of small ships keeping out of engagement range.
“Sir, those clusters of objects, they've fired! Missile swarm incoming! Four hundred, repeat four zero zero missiles incoming from port and starboard as well as nadir!”
“Engage. Weapons free! Counter missiles engage!” the captain snarled, clenching his fist for a moment before he turned to his keyboard and started to issue his own commands to lend tactical a hand.
“Sir! The gunships! A squadron has broken away from the others and is going after the transports!”
“No time! Tell them to jump out now! We'll deal with them later,” the captain growled, hands moving. He concentrated with his implants to help issue orders to the gunnery crews.
---<>---<>---
Captain Vargess admitted he'd made a mistake in not using the six defensive drones sooner. He should have used them to protect the vulnerable grazer platforms. But what was done was done.
Instead he had them engaged now, firing counter missiles at the enemy's own counter missile spread as well as using their point defense turrets to engage. The range was long, but the Horathians were closing it steadily.
He just hoped it would make some difference. They had to take the starch out of the enemy, hurt them better than they've done so far. Something had to break, and soon.
---<>---<>---
Captain Mueller saw the missile swarm coming in and nodded. She had anticipated it from the tactical recordings from Jean Bart. “Tactical, missile wall as we discussed. Nukes only. Defense, get to work,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am,” Commander Esenly said, knowing better than to argue about munition expenditure. If they were dead, it wouldn't matter. Besides, she'd always wanted to see a missile wall in action.
“Screen is up. Decoys are out, ma'am. Counter missile wave one and two are away,” Trisha stated, voice dropping into a professional tone she'd been trained to use. “Point defense targeting now.”
“Helm, hard starboard. Broadside on to the missiles. Weapons free. Fire as you bear,” the captain intoned.
Nevada's answering missile group was a dozen dirty nuclear munitions. They went directly into the face of missile swarm and then exploded just short of interception. The explosion took out most of the incoming missiles and disrupting many others. The point defense picked off the rest.
---<>---<>---
“Well! That sucked,” Lieutenant Hamilton said in disgust. “I'd expected better than that!” he said waving a frustrated hand at the main screen. They had just shot themselves dry. He watched as the defensive platforms were picked off one by one.
“Yeah,” Captain Vargess said. “Me too.” There was an obvious difference between taking a capital ship by surprise like the admiral had in B101a1 and taking on a prepared and determined foe. It was also obvious that the enemy was willing to accept losses to continue the mission. They were a juggernaut, one he didn't have a hope in stopping.
“Sir, what about the smaller ship squadrons?”
“Against a BC? Two of them? Don't make me laugh. They'll eat them for breakfast. We'd need to soften them up a lot more than that before we can send them in. If we did it now, it'd be a slaughter. Our slaughter.”
“Oh.”
“Order to all squadrons, do not engage. Keep outside their engagement envelope. They are the bull, you are the matadors, keep them off balance.”
“Sir, what do we do?”
“Hope something breaks in our favor. I'm praying to the spirits for a miracle.”
“We'd better get one soon, sir,” a rating murmured.
“Don't get your hopes up. But don't count Admiral White out just yet.”
Chapter 27
A day and a half later Admiral White's forces settled down onto their intercept vector. He wasn't trying anything fancy, no stealth attacks; it just wouldn't work. Coming at the enemy in small penny packets would be next to useless.
Halsey had followed his orders and avoided action. Captain Vargess had recovered his meager remaining forces and kept ahead of the Horathian fighters sent out to engage and pin his ship down. He was having trouble getting to Point Baker however. Twice the reinforcement fighters en route to his location had been forced to change their course. Such things ate up time and precious fuel.
Captain Vargess had been in charge of the initial battle because he had been the senior officer on the scene. The Admiral couldn't control his forces effectively over the time lag, even with the tachyon link. For all intent and purposes, he had been as much of a spectator as those watching through the ansible link. It had been a very frustrating and trying thirty-six hours.
Seeing the missile pod swarm prove so ineffective was disheartening. It meant the pods he had weren't going to be effective.
“Sir, what do we do?” Jojo asked.
“I'm working on that. Status?”
“Commander Meia was injured, but she got her forces back to the carrier, sir. Lieutenant Lolita is dead. Squadron 2's pass on the transports proved ineffective. They managed to jump out before the gunships could get into their engagement zone.”
“Understood.”
“Sir, are we going to use the gunships with the fighters? I was reading some of the manuals ….”
“The problem with that is the enemy has apparently the same access to those very manuals, Lieutenant. As I said, I'm working on it.”
She gulped. She could see her boss's fur rising, not a good sign. He rarely ever let his temper get the better of him, but this was a very stressful environment. “Yes, sir.”
Amadeus's brown eyes looked her over briefly before he returned his attention to the plot. Stealth was out, he thought, discarding the idea. That meant something else had to be done to even the balance. Or better yet, tip it in his favor.
---<>---<>---
Admiral White met up with his forces just short of their engagement range. He immediately ordered his crews to get to work on his plan. The gunships swarmed about, screening them from the enemy's prying eyes.
Once they were set up, the other ships transferred the missile pods onto the smaller ships. His plan called for a sacrifice, one he had to make if they were going to win. It wouldn't be easy though, he thought, as he called a quick captain's conference.
“We don't have a lot of time so save the questions. I've uploaded the plan to your database. Go over it while I explain,” he started. Captain Harris opened his mouth and then shut it. “Okay, here is what we're going to do.”
---<>---<>---
Meia had refused to stand down despite her shoulder injury. She'd insisted it had been a scratch and had ignored the cracked ribs on that side. The ship's doctor considered her walking wounded and tried to ground her but she ignored that too. She took over a fighter since 001 was too banged up to fly and went out with her forces and the fresh fighters. They went into stealth right after they formed up.
---<>---<>---
“Sir, they have split up. It looks like they are planning to hit us in a scissor attack from both fronts,” Trisha said, looking up to her boss and then the captain.
“On the two planes? Why not all three axis?” Commander Esenly asked.
“Count your blessings,” Captain Mueller said.
“Ma'am, I don't like it when an opponent acts this stupid. They haven't before. Something's up,” the commander insisted. She'd expected a hit on their stern, for the enemy to pull off their already thin fighter coverage and then slip a group in to chew their ass. Nevada had a lot of defenses protecting her vulnerable stern. It was armored with a shell plate of armor on her dorsal and keel, but a determined enemy could get in on the sides or cut the angle between her superheated plasma exhaust and the armor if they were good enough.
&n
bsp; Fortunately, the designers of their ship had anticipated such a threat and had put a liberal amount of point defense turrets and counter missiles in those quadrants to cover the ship's fat ass. She just hoped it was enough.
“I know. Push the fighter screen out. Try not to leave any gaps though.”
“Ma'am, the gunships have broken clear of the other ships,” CIC reported.
“And the carrier?”
“She's still out of range, ma'am.”
“Damn.” Trisha murmured feelingly.
“You didn't think it'd be easy did you?” the captain demanded, eying the JTO.
“I was hoping, ma'am,” she answered. The captain smiled slightly at that rejoinder.
“Keep hoping. The destroyers are coming in on our starboard. It looks like this is it; they are serious about this,” she said.
She couldn't believe it. She had to admire their balls to set something like this in motion. “Ballsy little fuzz ball, isn't he?” She asked.
“You're telling me, ma'am,” Commander Esenly stated. “The enemy is set up to engage from both flanks at the same time, ma'am. Which do we take out first?”
“Do we have to choose? We can hit them both, right?” Trisha asked.
“Nevada, destroyers, take out the small fry. We'll focus on the tin cans. Once they are out of the way, the rest will be easy pickings. They'll fall over themselves running,” Captain Post said over the intership link.
“What the hell is he playing at?” he murmured to himself, just loud enough for the microphones to pick up.
“Set up the shot guns,” Captain Mueller stated, hands on her armrests. This should be over quick but nastily she thought to herself.
---<>---<>---
Additional missile pods meant more mass which slowed the usually fast escort ships down appreciably. But the enemy didn't notice; they were focused on the destroyers making a seemingly suicidal keel attack.
The BCs tried to maneuver to engage the destroyers with missiles but failed miserably. The smaller ships were lightning fast and danced out of the way. The destroyers clung to their intended target however. When they got into energy weapons range, the Admiral ordered weapons free. All nine destroyers fired everything they had at the Massachusetts. Then their counter missiles and defensive drones cut in to absorb the returning fire.
“Now!” Admiral White ordered pointing to Marshall. Marshall nodded and disappeared.
---<>---<>---
The various ship AIs in the Federation forces launched themselves through a number of radio transmissions at the enemy. They attempted to hack the enemy network, but the Horathians immediately saw the threat and cut the connection. The AI were bounced out before they could inflict much damage or gather any additional intelligence.
“I thought they'd do it sooner,” Captain Mueller stated as the system reset cleaned out the various viruses in the communication's computers. “No omni broadcasts are to be accepted, use tight whisker lasers, and change our decryption keys every few seconds as planned,” she ordered.
---<>---<>---
“It didn't work. They've adapted, sir,” Marshall stated, coming back online.
“That's fine,” the admiral said as Yris'ka'th took additional damage. He'd deliberately aimed for where the BC was weakest, where she had also been hit by the grazers and missile pods. His tin cans didn't have the fire control to fire all of them, but they were going to use the cascade fire control method to offset that disadvantage.
“The squadrons are making their run now, sir!”
Bravo flight cut its stealth and stooped like hawks onto their target. The Nevada had been so focused on the incoming warships she hadn't taken into account the fighters. The fighters the Horathians had deployed were out screening against the incoming ships that had drawn them off, opening a narrow window for Meia's forces to slip through. They turned to engage, but Meia turned on them to tangle them up as the three remaining bombers got into range and cycled their torpedoes.
This time they didn't feint for the sweet spot to hit the ship in the stern. They hit her as quickly as they could before she could see the threat and engage with her point defense.
“Torpedoes away!” a voice said over the intercom. “Torpedoes running hot straight and true!”
“Yes!” Jojo said, clenching her fist.
“It's not over until that ship actually gets hit, people. Don't count it out so early,” the Admiral said, shaking his head. They were grasping at any sign of success. That was a bad sign.
---<>---<>---
Captain Mueller cursed as she saw the incoming torpedo spread. There was no way to evade in time. “Helm, turn her broadside on. Get our ass out of there before they tear us a new one. All batteries engage as you bear! Counter missiles fire for effect!”
Weapon fire spat out, but as the ship rolled, they were thrown off. The torpedoes jigged a bit and deployed their own counter measures. Each had an energy shield in its bow. The bombers had launched six torpedoes each for a total of eighteen. Two were taken out by weapons fire. Two more malfunctioned and didn't set off their shield poppers in time and detonated against the shields.
But their detonations blinded the BC momentarily. It also forced the shields to remain up which interdicted their remaining weapons fire for a brief critical half second. The remaining fourteen torpedoes activated their shield poppers as programmed. The gravitational node in their bow changed from a shield to a penetrator. The lance of gravitational energy pierced the shields and interfered with the local nodes, driving them into shutdown before they overloaded. The torpedoes rammed home through the gap in the energy armor and into the final engagement range.
Two more of the weapons were taken out by the desperate fusillade of fire. One warhead was taken out by a puff of plasma exhaust from the ship's maneuvering thrusters and vaporized. Two warheads crowded in too tightly and hit each other despite their careful programming. They exploded taking out a third torpedo coming in behind them. The explosion clipped another warhead, knocking the warhead end over end into a spin. When it went off, it exploded in the wrong direction and was wasted.
But then the Horathian's luck ran out as the remaining seven warheads detonated. Their warheads were penetrator rounds, designed to rip into the armor like knives and then set off their real warhead. They drove deep into the armored flank perilously close to the rear boat bay and then detonated a second final time.
Captain Mueller felt her ship buck like a living thing for the first time in memory. She swore as Commander Esenly was thrown from her couch and Trisha was tossed about. The young JTO had thought to put her restraints on, but the seatbelts didn't protect her neck from the wild abuse. Her neck snapped like a twig. She hung limp in the restraints.
“Medical to the bridge,” the captain snarled as Esenly picked herself up off the floor. The woman was cradling her shoulder. She coughed blood but got back onto her couch. She took one look at her subordinate and shook her head then dived back into her chair.
“Armor breached in six, no make that seven places along the starboard belt line between boat bay's three and four. We've lost magazine one and two and most of our starboard weapons. We've got hull buckling along that flank. DCC is still doing an assessment of the damage.”
“Tell them to hurry,” the captain said as the bombers withdrew and the fighters entangled. Her eyes turned to the squadrons of enemy forces moving steadily inward. She had expected them to withdraw after that hit but they weren't. That meant something. Something bad she thought.
“Helm, put our port on the incoming ships. All guns fire!”
---<>---<>---
The corvettes and frigates executed a firing pass with their missile pods. The detached pods drifted away from their hulls to get clear, took their orders from their mother ships, and then fired.
Captain Manchez had a moment to yelp in dismay as his beloved Starfish was torn apart. Her two sister ships suffered similar fates.
The remaining missiles cut into the
port flank of Nevada and Massachusetts. They hammered at the giant ships, but the few remaining missiles were not enough. Nevada's fluctuating shields allowed her to take additional damage. When the wreckage cleared and drifted away, it was clear she was still under power and ready for more.
Both ships fired back, cutting apart several corvettes and frigates. Twenty-eight corvettes and nine frigates managed to get out of the engagement envelope intact.
---<>---<>---
Defensive drones were deployed from TF 22's destroyers to cover their withdrawal. They popped chaff, decoys, and screens of ECM while the destroyers maneuvered away.
It wasn't enough; Xavier staggered as Massachusetts got its revenge. She tumbled as a pair of grazers powerful enough to go toe to toe with a battleship tore through her armor. A second broadside was enough to finish the destroyer off.
She wasn't the only ship to go, however. Viper and Mary Apple had continued to fire their energy weapons into the ship expecting their speed to allow them to dart away. However, Viper took a missile at the wrong time and rolled. Her roll threw her division mate off enough to maneuver into a grazer turret's weapons fire. The two ships slowed enough to be hammered into wreckage.
The carefully deployed weapon drones the destroyers had left behind were also contemptuously destroyed.
As they moved out of the engagement zone, Cutlass trailed behind, taking increasing amounts of damage to allow her fellow ships to flee. Bounty moved back to support her and took a few glancing hits to her dorsal tower and port drives.
Admiral White grimaced. Every one of his ships was now damaged to some extent. They had taken losses. “Pull back. Fighters, pick off the strays. Gunships, move in to cover the retreat,” he ordered. He sat back with a heavy sigh. “There goes our best Sunday punch,” he said to Jojo.
---<>---<>---
Meia watched with cold eyes as the bombers withdrew. She was still under stealth; her fighters were on her and carefully set up to engage at the right time. She waited until the enemy fighters started to withdraw and then signaled to move in to attack. She cut her stealth and dove like an avenging falcon.