by B. V. Larson
“What if we take a longer route?” I asked. “What if we swing around the system and come back to this point from the other side of the Stroj planet?”
He shook his head slowly. “It might work. But then again, this battle might be over with by that time. They’ve seen us moving to join the Stroj. In reaction, they stepped up their timetable to hit the home world now. They have every incentive to strike the Stroj planet while we’re out of reach performing distant maneuvers.”
I couldn’t help but agree with his analysis. “Excellent work as always, XO. But this time, I wish you weren’t so damned thorough. I’d like to think there was still some small possibility that has been overlooked.”
“I’m sorry, Captain, but the situation is grim.”
“For the Stroj,” Rumbold interrupted, “but not necessarily for us. We have to bug out, Captain. We’ll have to face this enemy on better terms later.”
I glanced at him, but I shook my head. “I can’t allow this slaughter of colonists to continue. The variants must be stopped here.”
“What are your orders, Captain?” Durris asked.
“I’ll confer with Okto. Contact her flagship.”
Unlike the last time I’d spoken with her, she was fully dressed on this occasion. She didn’t look happy to see me.
“What do you want, Sparhawk?” she growled.
“Have you analyzed the situation we’re facing?” I asked her. “We’re considering swinging around the fighters that are coming to intercept us and moving past them to the Stroj missile bases.”
“What? Running away again? Is that all you Earthlings do?”
She was annoyed with me, and I was beginning to become angry with her in return.
“We can’t fight three thousand fighters without supporting fortifications. We’re going to execute this maneuver. If you want to drive right into the fighters without our help, feel free to do so. Here’s hoping you manage to sell your lives dearly.”
I moved to cut off the channel, but she stood up, looming over the deck.
“Wait!” she called. “We will not die alone for you to seize our glory. We’ll retreat and regroup to defend Beta.”
“You’re going back on your word?” I asked. “At the first sign of danger? I hadn’t thought Betas were so easily frightened.”
She glowered at me in hate. “That’s an insult that deserves a violent response.”
“Good. Provide it to the enemy. Follow my lead, and we’ll see how this plays out. Remember, if they keep hitting us while we’re divided, huddling around our home planets, they’ll kill us all in the end.”
I cut the channel before she could say more. Then I sat down, stressed and uncertain.
“What are they doing?” I asked Yamada.
“Okto’s ships are still in formation with us.”
“Fine,” I said. “Rumbold, engage our new course.”
Rumbold shook his head, but he reached for the controls. He set us on the course Durris had worked out for us.
We felt the ship move under our feet. The deck pressed up harder against us, and people staggered to strap themselves in.
“Yamada?”
“They’re all formed up as they were before. We’re pulling away from them. They’re definitely not following, Captain.”
I sat in my chair, my face a mask of stone.
“Captain?” Rumbold said. “Do you want me to ease down a little?”
“No, damn it. Keep accelerating.”
He did so, and we all rode upon Defiant’s powerful thrumming engines for two full minutes in near silence.
“Captain!” Yamada said, “Okto is moving.”
“Where’s she going?”
“She’s heading… away from us.”
My heart sank. They were pulling out. All was lost. What could one ship do against thousands?
“Wait,” Durris said, working at his boards and straining against the pull of centrifugal forces to do so. “They’re going down, below the Plane of the Ecliptic. They’re not retreating from the system.”
“Plot their course.”
“They… they should end up at the Stroj missile bases. The same as we will, but they’re taking another route. In fact, all three of their ships are swinging wide, away from one another.”
I smiled, suddenly understanding the situation. “Okto has decided to adopt our tactics,” I said, “but being an Alpha, she couldn’t take orders from me and follow them exactly. She’s doing it in her own way. She’s splitting her formation. Durris?”
“Sir?”
“Have we ever observed the variants breaking up a wing of fighters? Have they ever sent out less than a thousand to do a mission?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
I nodded, thinking hard. This variation on the plan could be genius. If she could get them to throw a thousand fighters at each battle cruiser—plus the three thousand they’d already released—that would mean there wasn’t going to be much defending the Star Carrier.
Maybe Okto wasn’t such a bad ally after all.
-54-
At first, it looked like Okto’s gambit was going to work. But then the enemy changed tactics. Rather than launching new wings against every one of our battle cruisers, the variant fleet sailed serenely forward on their original course, moving to place themselves between us and the relative safety of the Stroj bases.
As we continued to accelerate, however, the variants seemed to catch on. Our ships were faster than the battleships we were racing against. They weren’t going to get into position before we reached our goal.
“They’re breaking up the fleet, Captain,” Yamada said.
“Yes...” I agreed thoughtfully. “Rumbold slow down our acceleration curve. We have to puzzle this out. Yamada, signal Okto to do the same.”
“Okto has agreed to match us,” Yamada said.
The weight of heavy acceleration left me. I was now under a little more than one G of force. The feeling was a great relief.
“Durris, what’s going on?” I asked, moving to his side at his planning table.
“They’re maneuvering. Give the system a second to confirm and plot their new courses.”
We watched together as the enemy shifted their headings.
“They’re matching each of our battle cruisers with a battleship,” I said in surprise. “But they can’t hope to catch us before we reach the Stroj defensive line. If that’s—”
“That’s not their plan,” Durris said, with a grim note of certainty in his voice.
“Then what can they be thinking?”
Durris tapped at his controls while I waited impatiently. Rather than display every thought and scenario that was going on in his head, or in his battle computer’s overtaxed RAM, he often only shared conclusive predictions.
Looking at his work, I frowned. “Is this correct? The star carrier is going its own way?”
“Yes. She’s slow, even slower than the battleships, but she’ll still make it to the Stroj home world before we do.”
“I still don’t get the point of throwing a battleship at each of our battle cruisers now, if they can’t hope to—ah,” I said, catching on at last. “I see. This spline you’ve traced… The big ships are intended to counter us if we decide to take a more direct route.”
Durris looked at me glumly and nodded.
“Why the long face?” I asked. “They can’t reach our ships. Not unless we decide to run right past them.”
“Correct,” he said. “That leads me to the conclusion they expect us to do exactly that.”
I touched the screens, goading them into showing the plans as they were now laid. An hour from now, the star carrier would be within striking range of the Stroj home world. They could launch their fighters which were very fast-moving. They’d beat us to the goal and swarm the planet.
“You think they’re going to throw all their remaining fighter wings directly at the Stroj?”
“Yes. They have five full wings in reserve.
That should be enough to attack the Stroj.”
“They think they have enough to destroy the Stroj defensive ships, their bases, and wreck the planet? Without any help from the battleships?”
“They must sir. They don’t make risky plays. Not that I’ve seen.”
“But this is the height of risky plays!” I objected. “They’re leaving the carrier itself undefended.”
“Watch the updates.”
I did, standing with him for several long minutes. The mood on the command deck had turned increasingly tense. No one knew exactly what the enemy was up to. Was this a masterful move, an error, or a subtle trick on the part of the variants? How smart were these hybrid creatures?
Finally, something else changed. The fighter wings the enemy had launched toward our cruisers were slowing. They’d been recalled. They were no longer flying out to where they’d planned to reach us. They were going to pull back and defend the carrier.
“Damn,” I said. “They’re not going to fall for our positioning.”
Space battles were often a game of cat and mouse. Two opposing fleets were positioned and counter-positioned in full sight of one another. The posturing didn’t matter until the final moves when any mistake often turned deadly.
“They’re covering all their bases—and beating us to the goal in the process.”
“I can see that,” I said sharply. “How do we counter this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know that we can counter it. They’ll reach the Stroj planet before we do. The only other option is to race right through the middle of them, but that would be suicide.”
I rubbed at my chin. “Play it out. Show me what that looks like.”
He glanced at me in alarm, but he did as I’d ordered. The ghostly projections of tiny ships cleared then the air began to sparkle again. Colored flecks took shape, and the image sharpened.
There were conflict points now. Flashing yellow spots where vessels met with one another and traded fire. It didn’t take any explanation from Durris to comprehend what the battle computer was predicting. All four of our battle cruisers were projected to be lost.
“Dilate time,” I ordered. “Assume we make our course change at an optimal point.”
“Optimal? That depends on enemy action.”
“When do you think they’ll launch their fighters—the ones held in reserve to strike the planet?”
“Maybe ninety minutes from now.”
“Project the situation if we change course then.”
He tapped doggedly. “There. We’re still all knocked out.”
I frowned at his conclusions and worked with them myself. “Hold on,” I said. “Your software is assuming we’ll fight to the death with the battleships. I have no intention of doing so. We’ll run right past them, taking a few hits, but…”
Durris dutifully worked his boards again. At last, the situation looked brighter.
“Excellent,” I said, smiling.
“Captain… I don’t know. There are an infinite number of variables.”
“Of course there are,” I said, “and when they come up, we’ll change our choices.”
“But at that point we’ll be effectively surrounded by the enemy!”
“Yes, but take a look at this.” I triumphantly tapped the center of the image. There was the Iron Duke, burning and destroyed. “I’m willing to take a serious chance to achieve that goal.”
“Yes sir.”
“Lock it in, Rumbold,” I said, knowing he’d been watching remotely. “Lock it into your thoughts and the navigational computer’s programming.”
Stretching and sipping a beverage, I sighed. “I have more difficult work to do.”
“What work is that, Captain?” Rumbold asked.
I glanced at him. “I have to convince Okto to follow our lead. I’m not sure she’s going to like this plan.”
“Huh,” he said, “can’t say that I blame her.”
His attitude bordered on insubordination, but the old-timer and I had a unique working relationship.
-55-
Okto turned out to be easily convinced by my new battle plan. Beta colonists are aggressive by nature, and she liked the idea of a bold attack.
An hour crawled by before the variants launched their fighters at the Stroj home world. As per the plan, ten more minutes ticked by.
At that point, alarms went off all over the ship. Defiant began tilting, rolling over, and then finally accelerating with all her awesome power once again.
By that time, I’d been secured by smart-straps into my seat. All around me, my crewmen groaned as the Gs were cruelly applied. We watched our ship in the projection tanks as it veered sickeningly.
Simultaneously, our three sister ships did the same thing. All four battle cruisers were twisting, plunging like daggers directly toward the star carrier. Our intentions could hardly have been more obvious.
At first, the enemy didn’t react. I’d noted this pattern in the past. The variants didn’t alter their choices rapidly, but when they did, the new option they chose was generally intelligent and decisive.
This occasion was no different. After several long minutes during which they continued to sail in the same direction—everything shifted again.
“Captain!” Durris called from his seat.
“I know, I can see it.”
The enemy was maneuvering again. The battleships were slowing down, turning back to defend the carrier. But by this time they’d been flying away from her for quite a while. They couldn’t just spin around on a dime. They had to counter all the inertia they’d built up, by braking for a long period, before they could move to defend the star carrier.
The Iron Duke, for its part, turned away from the Stroj planet and headed toward us and the battleships. It was going to be a race.
“Plot it all out for me,” I told Durris.
He feverishly worked on his computer. His actions were slow and hampered by the acceleration. He spoke most of his commands to the battle computer directly as it was easier than using his hands.
After several minutes, I saw the results.
“It’s going to be close,” Durris said. “Assuming we slip by the battleships without serious damage, we’ll have to engage the star carrier to destroy her. I don’t have precise specs on her defensive armament. Projecting as best I can, we’ll have about eight minutes to destroy her before the battleships come back into effective range and begin hitting us in the tail.”
It wasn’t welcome news. I stared, trying to see if he’d made an error. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t.
Could we destroy Iron Duke in eight short minutes? That could be a long time in space combat, but this ship looked very tough to me.
“Your orders, sir?” Rumbold prodded.
There was a note of hope in his voice. I could tell he was wishing I’d change my mind. That I’d redirect our plunging attack in another direction—any direction—as long as it was away from the enemy fleet.
“Steady as she goes, Rumbold,” I told him at last. “Maintain current course and acceleration.”
He sighed and slumped back into his chair.
The next hour crawled by, but then we were in range of the battleships.
“Hold all missiles,” I ordered. “We’re going to slam the star carrier with all of them. Begin rotating all three primary batteries, slow fire program—commence firing.”
All of this had been worked out extensively beforehand. We’d had plenty of time to plan before we reached effective range.
The enemy struck first, as I’d expected. The bigger ships had longer ranges. Their heavy beams splatted our hulls, but didn’t take us out. Divots were dug into the armor. Shields buckled and flashed.
We lurched sickeningly at random intervals chosen by the computer. A few staffers vomited, but no one commented as we were all feeling sick.
“Strike sir,” Yamada announced. “We hit their fantail, but scored no damage.”
The battleships were heavily
shielded, much more so than we were. That didn’t fill me with confidence, but I’d expected it.
“Concentrate on a single engine,” I ordered. “If we score a lucky hit, we might at least slow them down.”
The norm in combat like this was to take out weapons first, but not when fighting defensively. In this case, I only wanted to evade this monstrous vessel for now.
“Another hit—no damage.”
As if in instant retribution, we were struck hard. The lights flickered, and the battle computer even died and reset itself. The whole ship went into a spin on its beam axis, flipping over to spread the damage.
A rumble rolled through the ship like thunder. Something had exploded—possibly a section of Defiant had been depressurized.
“We’re hit! Topside shield is down! We’re aiming our belly at them.”
“Are we venting?” I asked.
Yamada worked her boards. “Yes… aft weapons deck. We’ve lost fire control over one primary battery and one missile pod.”
“Sir,” Rumbold said, “we can’t repair this ship on the fly. This kind of acceleration will toss the boys right out the hole into the void!”
“I’m well aware of that, Rumbold,” I said. He’d been in charge of damage control on past missions, and his heart was still with the spacers who did the grunt work down below. “Just let it bleed, Yamada. Don’t send anyone into that mess yet.”
“Yes sir—but Captain?”
“What is it?”
“The variants are calling. Q-161 is requesting permission to work on the damaged deck.”
I thought it over.
“All right,” I said, “we’ll need every gun we have shortly. Give Q-161 permission, and provide two helpers. I can’t afford to risk losing any more of them than that.”
She relayed the message, and the battle continued.
It wasn’t much of a battle. We weren’t trying to destroy our opponent, only evade her. The battleship was raking us with blazing fire every minute or so. Effectively, we were taking a beating. As we got close and passed the battleship by, it became more intense.
Huge gouts of energy reached out and caught our ship. Missiles were launched, chasing after our wake. They sped up with the kind of dramatic acceleration only missiles could generate, but I knew it would be a long time before they could catch us. As the enemy ship was going in the opposite direction, the missiles had to spend most of their fuel fighting that momentum which was going the wrong way.