Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5)

by S. H. Jucha

  The engines of each carrier were pushed to their limits to accelerate the ships and the massive rocks tethered outside their bays. At the instant required by each SADE, the ship’s controller slewed its carrier and cut the beams holding the asteroids along one side of the ship. Like a child’s ancient sling, the metal-rich rocks were whipped forward, sailing past derelict ships to race through the dark of space toward the enemy fleet.

  The carriers were returned to the staging point to start a second run, shooting forward to sling the asteroids tethered on the other side. Once having loosed both sides, the carriers reset at the starting point, and myriad vessels jumped into action, offering their rocky cargo up to flight chiefs, who activated the beams when the asteroids were in position.

  Once loaded, the SADEs signaled the carriers forward twice again to let loose each side of their loads. The Last Stand sent four staggered barrages of sixteen dense, rocky asteroids each, and the No Retreat threw twice that number in four of its own barrages.

  * * *

  “Admiral, the guide identifies an asteroid shower coming our way,” the battleship’s navigator announced.

  “Origin?” Portland asked.

  “Directly ahead, Admiral. The shower just passed the station.”

  “Now, isn’t that a coincidence?” said Portland, his mind racing.

  “A second wave of asteroids incoming, Admiral.”

  “Show me where both waves are headed.” Portland demanded.

  On the admiral’s central monitor, the ships of the fleet were laid out in textbook wedge formation, which gave Portland a surge of pride before he examined the incoming waves of asteroids headed at the flanks of his fleet. “How big are these?” he asked.

  “Huge,” the navigator replied. “The guide estimates them at around 8 to 10 meters across.”

  “What? Are you telling me these asteroids are the same size? That’s statistically impossible,” Portland yelled. He knew it was the Harakens again, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how they could be sending asteroid showers his way. What is your game this time? Portland asked himself.

  “Commander, have the lead destroyer in each of our flanking squadrons target an asteroid with missiles. I want four strikes against each asteroid. Let’s see what these accursed Harakens are hiding,” Portland ordered.

  Moments after the commander relayed the order, he reported, “Missiles away.” Time ticked by until he added, “Direct hits,” and finally, “The asteroids broke into large chunks, Admiral. They seem to be nothing but heavies … metal-rich ore formations.”

  “This makes no sense,” Portland mused out loud.

  “Admiral, the flanking squadrons are asking permission to spread out,” the commander said.

  “Yes, yes, permission granted,” Portland said absent-mindedly, waving a hand at the commander in dismissal. He was desperately trying to understand the purpose of the asteroids. “Commander, I want eyes on those asteroids as they pass by our ships.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the commander affirmed, and later reported, “Nothing behind the rocks, Sir,”

  “Incoming, Admiral. Two more waves. Identical in makeup, count, and direction,” navigation stated.

  “That tears it. It’s the Harakens doing this!” Portland shouted angrily.

  “To what purpose, Admiral?” the commander asked.

  “That’s the right question, Commander. I think it’s some trick of the Harakens to make us unsure of our actions, but it won’t do them any good. The squadrons have permission to move out of formation to evade the swarms, but check those rocks as they pass.”

  Twice more navigation announced incoming waves of asteroids, and twice more the admiral had the passing rocks checked for evidence of extraneous structures or fighters hiding on the back sides. “Nothing,” was the answer in each case. Again and again, the fleet separated to allow the huge rocks to pass through their formation, which no longer resembled the admiral’s textbook wedge.

  The first three double waves separated the wings of Portland’s wedge into six groups of warships. Then the final double waves of asteroids came directly at his battleship and surrounding cruisers, forcing two of the cruisers to one side and Portland’s battleship and a third cruiser to the other side.

  After the first waves, Portland was tempted to reform the wedge, but the subsequent waves convinced him he was right to wait. What these initial barrages accomplished was the disruption of Portland’s formation and the undermining of his command. Captains were wondering what type of humans they faced that had the technology to dissolve warships and hurl asteroids, and they were taking the waves of giant rocks as a warning sign to retreat.

  -30-

  Z sent to Julien.

  The carriers were reloaded with asteroids, but this time the SADEs had to launch both sides of their carrier in quick succession, with the travelers chasing each barrage to hide behind their rocks. The Harakens had just the one opportunity to surprise Portland’s fleet. After that, it would be open warfare.

  The SADES ran the calculations of mass and forces on the carriers prior to and during each launch in an effort to estimate the danger to the carriers, which must first twist one way and then the other. It was Z, who was the first to admit that there was insufficient data and a lack of time to consider all ramifications.

  Julien sent back.

  This time, the SADEs accelerated their carriers on the same tick of time, hurtling them toward the station. The carriers slewed first one way, rocks were slung, and then the carriers slewed the other way to launch the other side’s asteroids. Warnings hit both controllers from numerous breaches in the hull seams. Had the bay doors been closed the stresses would have been insignificant, but the open bays did much to weaken the carriers’ overall strength. But the crews were safe. They were deep in their ships, ensconced comfortably in environment suits.

  Four groups of rocks hurtled past the derelict ships, and the travelers shot forward to give chase. With Franz Cohen allied with Shimada’s squadrons, the fighters were led by Sheila, Ellie, Deirdre, and Lucia. Each traveler controller tracked its transponder tag, and quicker than the eye could follow, the fighters nestled behind their assigned rocks, maintaining a 1-meter distance from the inner curve of the asteroid.

  Tatia sent to Julien and Z after the travelers successfully caught their asteroids before the rocks passed the station.

  Z queried.

  Tatia shot back.

  Julien replied, and sent a vid of a poorly dressed fop sketching an exaggerated bow to a pompous, heavy-set queen, with her crown askew, seated on a faded and tattered throne.

  Z enthused.

  Tatia sent.

  * * *

  The Last Stand launched thirty-two asteroids, and the No Retreat threw sixty-four rocks. The original concept called for a total of ninety-six travelers to hide among this set of barrages. But it was Tatia’s estimate that this number of fighters would be insufficient to engage the fleet in a head-on fight.

  “We can’t take on Portland’s entire fleet; but we can take on parts of it. If we can count on demoralizing some of the captains, then maybe parts of the fleet are all we will have to fight,” Tatia had said to her commanders and Shimada.

  Ellie had pulled up a closeup view of one of the asteroids on the holo-vid, adding a traveler, which she tucked into the hollowed-out shell. It hid beautifully. She then added a second traveler, bow to the aft of the first traveler, but it stuck out way too far. Next, she moved the first traveler up in the shell, which pushed its aft slightly farther out of its hiding spot, and then tucked a second traveler under it.

  Tatia and the other commanders crowded around to look at the concept,
grins breaking out on their faces, fierce expressions Portland would never wish to see.

  So 96 asteroids flew again at Portland’s fleet, but 192 Haraken fighters hid in their rocky shells.

  When Tatia saw the fleet formation break apart after the first barrages and not reform, Shimada’s words rang through her mind. Portland’s fleet was a fragile political arrangement. In a quick decision, Tatia ordered Julien and Z to send the travelers down the paths of the middle sets of the first series of barrages.

  Sheila inquired of Tatia why they weren’t targeting the more peripheral portions of the fleet, and Tatia replied that she needed to undermine some of the confidence of the capital ship commanders.

  Sitting nervously in their travelers, the pilots were relayed detailed images of the fleet’s formation by their controllers, which were gaining carrier and probe telemetry.

  As fast as she could, Tatia assigned targets to her commanders, who were then sharing them out among their wings. Each traveler would execute its own individual attack, but Tatia issued overarching commands to her pilots. They were to make one pass and one pass only, reforming into squadrons and ranks well behind the fleet, and they were to target the engines of the warships.

  “Admiral, why not target the bow … try to take out the captain and bridge crew?” Deirdre asked.

  “I want to whip up fear, Commander. Target their engines. If you’re successful, that’s one warship out of the action. If not, you’ll still have made them feel vulnerable,” Tatia replied. “Remember, people, this fight is as much about psychology as weapons.”

  Both Sheila and Ellie, whose wings would pass on the nearer lines of the divided wedge, assigned several squadrons to target the cruisers. No one would be able to reach Portland’s battleship.

  The pilots scanned their telemetry in detail, searching for UE missile launches as they approached the fleet, hoping that they weren’t discovered early. The size of the fleet ensured the launch of enough missiles so that there was no way a controller could evade every one. Short of diving below or above the ecliptic to float out into weak gravitational space, where they would have to wait for rescue, which would defeat the entire battle strategy, surprise was their singular asset while the travelers were still in front of the fleet.

  Time dragged slower and slower, despite the constant velocity of the asteroids, until the travelers reached the midpoints of the enemy’s squadrons. Then the Harakens’ fighters broke from cover and ambushed Portland’s warships.

  Unlike UE fighters, which required locks on their targets before the release of missiles, the traveler controllers were programmed to hunt heat signatures. Once free of their hiding places, the controller launched its fighter at full power toward its assigned target, sliding sideways to fire its beam at the warship’s engines at deadly close range, and then send its pilot and craft speeding into the dark beyond.

  As the Haraken fighters uncovered, alarms sounded throughout the warships, and crews searched for targets even while their vessels took hits. Some missiles were fired in panic, and the defense operators were forced to detonate them prematurely. Several missiles reached fellow warships to inflict friendly damage. Overall, the enemy fleet’s actions were inconsequential; the attack was over before the judiciary captains could react.

  * * *

  In their wake, the travelers left shaken and disturbed fleet commanders. Portland was yelling to reform the wedge, and his order was relayed throughout the fleet. In the meantime, damage reports flooded into the fleet commander’s panel.

  “Admiral, one cruiser and thirteen destroyers have lost primary engine power. They are drifting out of formation and requesting assistance,” the commander said.

  “Forming the wedge is a priority, Commander. Rescue is secondary,” Portland ordered. The admiral missed the winces and frowns evidenced by many of the bridge officers at his comment.

  “Admiral, another cruiser and five more destroyers are reporting they have significant damage to their engines but are still able to form ranks but not at full power. The slowest will make only about one-third power.”

  “Too slow! Have any ship that can’t maintain 70 percent power fall back to help those without power,” the admiral ordered. Moments later, when Portland heard his commander’s voice rising, the words catching his attention, he yelled for a report.

  “Sorry, Admiral,” the commander replied, “eight destroyers are refusing to join the formation.”

  “Refusing?” Portland yelled in anger. “Put the ship positions on the central monitor.”

  Portland’s fleet was in shambles. Fourteen ships were veering off on whatever tangents they had taken during the attack when they lost power. Three more ships were maintaining velocity, but were not rejoining the fleet. Then the admiral’s eye caught the eight destroyers the commander highlighted in red. They were making for the destroyers in trouble. Portland knew the commodore who was at the center of that outrageous disregard for his order. “Bleeding heart,” Portland grumbled to himself. His wedge was reduced by half, with two capital ships lost to him.

  “Admiral, please regard the left monitor,” the commander called, his voice rising.

  On the monitor, the admiral saw a formation of the Harakens’ own and swore under his breath, not wanting to add to the fear he could feel eating its way through his officers.

  * * *

  Deirdre and Lucia commanded sub-wings of fighters and floated in space facing the remainder of Portland’s fleet. Tatia was tickled to learn of Franz and Lucia’s performance at Hellébore when they faced the UE explorer ship. The effect of their machine-like maneuvers, beautifully executed by their controllers, impressed her, and she gave her commanders freedom to perform their own brand of intimidation when they faced Portland the first time.

  For this fight, Lucia volunteered some schemes of her own, but Deirdre voted for something that would add to the fear that Tatia’s tactics were generating.

  The two sub-wings totaling 128 fighters sat in a wedge, imitating Portland’s fleet. It was a jest in the face of the admiral’s vaunted UE naval formation. In an instant, the two sub-wings split, hurtling for the flanks of the fleet’s foreshortened wedge. The controllers executed the spiral patterns programmed by the two commanders. It wasn’t a fighter that was spiraling; it was the entire sub-wing that spiraled like a child’s streamer toy. On the monitor of any warship, it would be a chilling display of sophistication unmatchable by any UE pilots and their fighters — otherworldly, if not alien.

  The Haraken fighters continued their spiraling through the fringe warships, cutting and slicing with their beams. Warship missiles, attempting to target one fighter, would lose contact; attempt to lock on to a second, only to lose that one. Missiles were still in flight searching for targets in front of them when the Haraken fighters were already past the fleet.

  Behind Deirdre and Lucia’s sub-wings were more damaged destroyers. Tatia’s orders were the same as those for Sheila and Ellie; make a single pass and attack the engines.

  * * *

  Among the commodores of the destroyers, damaged ones and rescuers, there was a brief but terse conference. Not one of them had missed the fact that in the second pass of the Haraken fighters none of their ships were targeted. Commodores and captains alike knew that they would have granted no such largesse to their enemy, which before the war was often a rebel freighter or privateer.

  The consensus of the commanders was the fleet was outmatched, and they had just been granted a moment of clemency. It was a quick agreement among the commanders to abandon the fight and afterwards to surrender to the Harakens or the nearest pro-naval forces. It was better to fall on the mercy of the new courts, naval or civilian, than expect certain death at the hands of the Harakens.

  The few remaining destroyer captains in Portland’s diminished wedge eyed the now dwindled ranks and decided the odds were against them. Ship after ship pulled out of Portland’s formation until the admiral’s battleship was accompanied by two lone cruiser
s.

  -31-

  “Cowards,” Portland ranted at the icons of the destroyers on his monitor as they left his meager wedge to go to the assistance of the damaged ships. The three icons on the screen, representing his capital ships, were all that was left of his fleet.

  The fleet commander dutifully collected the damage reports and loss of life. He couldn’t believe the figures, the number of disabled and damaged ships should have tallied deaths in the tens of thousands. Instead, the dead counted a mere 181. The Harakens are sending us a message, and the admiral isn’t receiving it, the commander thought.

  Portland was livid. All his thoughts of redemption, or at least forgiveness at the hands of the new UE, had evaporated. One opportunity remained. Idona Station was dead ahead. He would soon reach missile range of the station. At his present velocity, it would be difficult if not impossible for the Haraken fighters to catch him from behind. Just a few paltry destroyers to annihilate first, Portland thought.

  “Commander, signal the cruisers, continue to make for Idona. Destroy it as we pass and then make for the belt,” Portland ordered.

  “Admiral, surely this is unnecessary —” the battleship’s pilot began to object, but he never got to finish.

  Portland holstered his needler, an unauthorized weapon among naval personnel. “Captain, you need a new pilot,” Portland said in a strangely calm voice.

  The captain ordered another pilot to the bridge and waved to the bridge security personnel to haul the dead pilot’s body away. A female pilot hurried onto the bridge and stuttered to a halt as security dragged the body of her friend past her. A harsh nod from the captain toward her position sent her scurrying to take a seat.

  “Now, we may proceed,” Portland stated with an air of satisfaction. “Commander, send the signal. The cruisers are to stay tight to me. We’ll pass the station on our port side. I want a full salvo of missiles … hold nothing back.” When the commander hesitated, Portland stared at him. “Commander,” he repeated in his deadly calm voice.