by Taylor Smith
Cade closed the channel to be greeted by solemn nods from his bridge crew… how few they were now.
“The jump bled half our speed, Captain,” Beck reported. “Our turn is almost complete, but we’ve definitely lost a lot of power.”
“Push it, Beck,” Cade replied and checked the telemetry. Beck was using the engines perfectly, balancing the differing power outputs to his advantage. “Wards. Time to range?”
“The enemy fleet has slowed enough to declare a battlefield. We’ll be in firing range in six minutes,” Wards replied as he switched between several screens. “The No Quarter’s force has slowed considerably and will be engaging in five and a half minutes.”
Cade nodded. Saundi had slowed her ships to increase the time to let the Reaper make its turn and meet them, but it also made them bigger targets. The No Quarter, Tyrant, Jackknife and Dark Tide would be firing thirty seconds before the Reaper joined them from the opposite side.
He tapped a few commands into his panel and looked to the main view screen. The course, speed and general ship’s status data that had dominated the forward bridge was replaced by a real-time view of space, and the enemy fleet.
Cade narrowed his eyes at the sight of the massive Alliance battleship being swarmed by its cruisers and supports ships. The ship dwarfed its own warships, but especially the Clew vessels now bearing down on it. He was reminded of the great warship Leviathan that sat atop his dying home, no longer joined as one.
An incoming request for vis-comms tore his gaze from the screen. He activated the link and looked up to see Saundi. He was surprised; she looked ages older.
“Hello, Brother,” Saundi said, her voice more crisp and collected than ever before. “Nice move. You’ll have to show me how you did that sometime.”
“Sister,” Cade replied while consulting his implant for the updated timetable. “We’re just over four minutes from the field.”
Saundi nodded and said, “I’m sending you visuals of your primary and secondary targets aboard the battleship.”
Cade linked his implant to the ship’s comms system to view the files. The first presented a smoothly curved aperture that was half-protected by an armored hood protruding from the battleship’s dorsal hull. Several blocky instruments jutted from under the armor that looked, to Cade, to be a communications array. After a few moments, the equipment retracted and another armored hood slid up to enclose the equipment protectively beneath it.
The second visual was of a small section of hull plating, dotted with small outcrops, with location data attached. It amazed Cade at how smooth the ship’s hull looked from a distance, when a close-up revealed it to be anything but.
“The primary target is the battleship’s main subspace communications array,” Saundi added as Cade studied the images. “All battleships have secondary communications equipment stored deep inside the hull.” She shook her head before continuing. “There’s no way we could effectively attack that. But, the secondary target, if destroyed or damaged sufficiently, will deny their ability to deploy their backup array.”
Cade nodded, knowing Saundi’s Alliance Academy communications training would mean that this information is extremely precise. “Got it. Do you think the Reaper can take these installations out on her own, or will we have a partner to work with?”
“Doesn’t matter. All ships will be targeting these sections of the battleship independently. There are no other targets,” she replied matter-of-factly and then leaned forward. “Ignore all else, Cade. Throw everything you have at these targets, and we’ll make it out of this.”
Cade stared at her for a moment and then nodded once. “I trust you, Saundi.”
She glanced to the side before looking back at him with determined eyes. “We engage in two minutes. Good luck,” Saundi said before she closed the channel.
“All right, fellas,” Cade mumbled with a sigh. “Here we go.” He activated the ship-wide comms and announced the upcoming battle. “Everyone to stations. Our reloading teams have the ball on this one. Be fast, be precise. See you all on the other side.”
The No Quarter, Tyrant, Jackknife and Dark Tide burst onto the battlefield into a flurry of weapons fire. Beam weapons reached out to flash-melt armor and the equipment it protected. Heavy- caliber rounds mauled armor, and missiles flew behind it all, destined for destruction no matter success or failure.
The Clew ships responded in kind as they closed the distance while maneuvering away to avoid or break targeting solutions as best they could. But as the pirate vessels dodged and ducked, the Alliance warships with their fifteen lighter support craft simply swatted the attacks away, or took the hits before they reached their intended targets.
A direct hit to the Jackknife momentarily disrupted power to its port engines, causing it to swerve slightly before its helmsman could compensate. As the ship lurched sideways, its entire starboard flank was exposed, giving the enemy triple the target area to hit.
Its Captain didn’t shout out in anger or fear, she simply nodded in the understanding that her ship’s fight was over. Searing beams of energy that were labeled as misses only moments ago, greedily relieved the ship of large swaths of armor while kinetically empowered shells slammed into freshly installed panels as well as gaps previously stripped away by beam hits. Alliance computer programs that ran the targeting and guidance systems aboard twenty missiles recognized the higher success probability and instantly redirected their warheads to the more assured target.
When the missiles finally arrived three seconds after the beam and cannon rounds, nine decks had already been exposed to space and no point-defense was left to hinder their advance. Debris, escaping gasses and even crew, floated away from the ship, as the missiles streaked past and entered the vessel’s hull unimpeded. All ten detonated inside the heart of the Jackknife, and the pirate cruiser, along with its entire crew, ceased to be.
The staggering release of power rushed from the space that the cruiser used to inhabit, pressing against the hulls of its sister ships who continued to fire upon the Allied battleship.
The Reaper gained the field moments after its sister ships to find a lighter, yet still deadly, welcome.
“Fire, Mr. Wards! Expedite the reload,” Cade ordered the moment they entered range. “Mr. Beck, begin your evasive patterns.”
Cade gripped his seat’s armrests out of instinct as his ship rumbled with the release of ten missiles, two heavy guns, and its forward beam weapon. Until they were able to present a full broadside, he was stuck with less than half of his ship’s armament.
“Reloading!” Wards reported. “They’re spreading their fire and defense according to threat level,” Wards reported. “We’re not seeing as much incoming as the No Quarter’s group, but it’s still too much!”
“Steady, Wards,” Cade replied as he kept one eye on their course and another on the status of their friends. “Do not sacrifice targeting for defense right now. Beck, give me two seconds at full speed, then back down to combat acceleration. We’re going to join our friends.”
“Aye, Sir, full push for two,” Beck replied in a blur of words as he concentrated on evasion and course.
The deck bucked beneath them as several Allied weapons hit home, followed by the groan of metal twisting in ways it wasn’t supposed to.
“Minor damage to forward armor. Long-range scanner array is gone,” Wards said, his voice steadier than before as the ship rocked again against the incoming fire. “No damage, we –“, he paused for a moment then said, “Sir, we lost the Jackknife.”
“We have incoming, Mr. Wards. Mourn later,” Cade replied sternly, seeing the man pause momentarily. The Reaper’s successful defense was measured not only by Wards’ skills, but his focus.
“Aye, Sir,” came the muted reply, sweat dripping from his brow as his hands flew across his station.
“One minute until intercept, Captain,” Beck shouted.
“Reaper,” came Saundi’s voice across the command channel. “We’re not go
ing to get a second pass.”
Cade grimaced at the comms panel. “I could have told you that,” he replied with what little tact he had left.
“Any suggestions?” she asked.
He paused for a moment in thought instead of quipping back something he’d regret if there was a ‘later time.’ “Disengage the auto-avoidance on all ships and make the most insanely close pass on our primary and secondary targets that we can make. Don’t give them a chance to defend against it.”
“Done,” she replied. “Ignore the primary, focus on the secondary.”
Cade closed the channel and glanced at his ship’s course before saying, “Mr. Beck, change heading negative five by negative twelve, disable navigation safeties and all ahead full. Prepare for a full-roll-salvo on my order.”
“Aye,” came the response from the helm.
“Mr. Wards, cease fire and reload all weapons. You have less than thirty seconds,” he ordered.
“All weapons fully loaded minus the forward guns. I need ten more s –“.
At that moment three missiles and a rake of heavy cannon fire scraped past the cruisers defenses to slam home against the already battered hull. All three men were thrown violently against their harnesses, amid an ear-bursting howl of protest from the wounded pirate ship.
The Reaper, still on a ballistic course toward the bottom sections of the battleship, was shifted slightly away from its trajectory as it belched gasses and debris from a gaping wound across its bow that rolled backward and down its starboard side. Secondary explosions of ammunition and the explosive decompression of several weakened decks, further pressed the cruiser off-course.
Cade coughed against the acrid smoke that now filled the bridge. His eyes stung as he winced at a pain in his side from the earlier injury. The lights were flickering and several chunks of conduit and cabling had fallen from the bridge ceiling to litter the floor around him.
He groaned as he unstrapped himself, and stumbled to Beck’s chair to find the young navigator holding his head with one hand and frantically punching in commands with the other. The data flow through his implant told him of their impending doom by way of smashing against their enemy’s looming hull. “Beck!”
“On it!” his helmsman croaked shakily.
“Wards, prepare for a full broadside!” Cade turned when he didn’t hear an answer. “Wards!”
The tactical specialist sat straight in his chair, his eyes open, gazing curiously at the main screen.
“Wards!” he shouted again and moved across the bridge toward the tactical station, each step a jarring agony in his side. “Prepare for –“.
“I can’t seem to, Captain,” Wards said with a stuttered, confused voice before looking down at the thin metal shaft that jutted from his chest.
“Oh Wards,” he whispered and jammed his thumb on the small comms system at the station. “Medical to the bridge!” He released the key and said, “Sit back, Steven. They’re coming.”
“Who?”
He shook his head at the man’s shock and studied the panel to find they’d just lost half their starboard guns. With a curse, he swiped the damage report away and checked the data in his implant to find their course slowly being repaired. “Good job Beck!” he shouted. “Prepare to roll the ship on my mark!”
Another hard jolt shook them before Beck could answer and a horrendous sound reverberated through the bridge. Cade cringed again and grabbed his side protectively, just as Wards screamed in pain. The damage report flared once again to the foreground on Beck’s station, more red highlights growing like weeds across the wireframe representation of his ship.
“Five seconds!” Beck shouted from the helm. “I think we’re gonna hit!”
“Hold on, baby,” Cade mumbled to his ship with a look around the smoky bridge. “Get ready!” Cade shouted as his fingers hovered above the starboard “Full Fire” control. “Now! Roll-roll-roll!”
The Reaper spilled every form of matter imaginable in its wake as it raced past the Alliance cruisers and support ships that were firing desperately to hole it. The Allied defenders lost their targeting solutions as they swung away at the last second to avoid the barely-controlled pirate ship, barreling toward the belly of their comrade. Its ragged starboard armaments fired before the ship rolled deftly to align its dorsal missile bay, which spewed a full barrage of ten self-guided warheads. The roll continued until finally the fully loaded port battery came to bear just before the ship swept past. Six heavy caliber cannons unloaded their burdens upon the small section of armor plating at point-blank range.
Shell after shell found its mark and all ten missiles crashed into the undercarriage of the warship. Just as the explosions began rippling across the battleship’s hull, the signal went up from the No Quarter.
“Primary and secondary targets destroyed,” Saundi’s voice echoed from somewhere among the smoky haze of the bridge.
Cade cringed as he watched the armored underside of the Alliance battleship rush past far too closely. The main screen displayed the scene with striking detail, and just as Cade thought they’d surely hit, they were clear.
“Beck, you’re a hell of a pilot,” Cade said shooting a grin at his helmsman. “Full power to engines. We still have to get clear of –“.
Cade was cut-off by a sudden display of small bursts in space that he’d never seen before. He was about to turn to the tactical station to analyze what they were, when an enormous explosion rocked the black space before them; a great ring of blue energy emanated outward to reveal a Sol Fleet battleship at its core. The Reaper shuddered beneath him as the dispersion of energy passed.
The remaining Clew ships were quickly forgotten as the Alliance battle group turned its attention to the newcomers, who immediately opened fire with a fury of which Cade had never thought possible.
“All Clew ships,” Saundi’s voice returned. “Approach the Memory’s defensive envelope at one thousand kilometers and hold position.”
Cade nodded at Beck, who quickly worked his panel to move the ship closer to the monster that had just appeared.
The two Sol Fleet cruisers rushed forward, firing beam weapons as if power limitations were an afterthought, invisible shells of energy flaring as they brushed aside the Allied attacks. The massive battleship Memory of Earth yawed slowly toward the enemy and let loose a new kind of hell against the white battleship that suddenly seemed so fragile.
Cade watched in awe and horror as ships died in quick succession, the Sol warships seemingly unfazed by the full-out assault by their dying enemies.
In the battle’s last moments, two engine flares emerged from the Sol Fleet battleship that Cade thought, at first, were shuttles of some sort. They streaked toward the battleship, reflecting enemy fire with ease. Just before the capital-killing torpedoes impacted the Allied behemoth’s hull, Cade realized his mistake.
The large viewer darkened automatically to protect the crew’s eyes from the intense release of energy from the dying Allied battleship. As the viewer brightened again, the field had been cleared.
Cade couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, even as medical personnel rushed onto the bridge to attend to the injured. A new sense of dread had crept into his mind.
The Sol Fleet ships were firing on escape pods.
Chapter 22
“We have over two thousand messages processing at the moment,” the annoyed senior communications officer said across the open channel. “You can wait until tonight when the traffic is lighter.”
“Negative, Lordell Station control,” Haley replied, suppressing the need to scream at the man. “You have the authorization code. It checks out. Release full command of your subspace relay to me immediately or surrender for processing to await your court martial.”
Only a few moments ticked by before the man replied with a huff. “Very well. You have full control now. Of course you know that I’ll be reporting this to –“.
She closed the channel and began entering the process t
o link her ship into the stations communications array. Not my ship, she thought, as she ran her finger across a deep scratch along the console.
The navigational virus that she was supplied with to shadow the Reaper’s movements had worked easily enough on Strix-4. After realizing there was a large foreign object attached to her hull, she made the split decision to commandeer a different ship. Perhaps it was her training behind the thought process of remote piloting the tracked ship at all, but she knew the Reaper was nearby, and using her old friend as a cover for escaping was too convenient for her. So she infected the ship, and auto-launched Strix-9 from its bay.
Again, the geniuses in the code lab had made it easy for her beloved Strix-9 to follow Strix-4’s movements like an obedient pet. She just really didn’t think Cade and Andy would try to kill her. It was time that she threw the Clew cloak off for good… if the next few minutes went as she hoped.
That also meant trying to forget about her friends. Cade, Andy and Saundi had come for her again, and again she’d betrayed them. This time, however, she’d led them to their deaths. She hoped that Saundi wasn’t aboard, too.
The twelve hour flight to Lordell Station had been wrought with misery. She’d cried. She’d laughed hysterically. She’d even been so angry that she’d thrown random items across the small craft. Haley had run the full gamut of emotion, knowing that Cade was now dead at the hands of the battle group. Cade was dead, and it was her fault; her final treachery that solidified her loyalty once and for all.
She entered the final command and was greeted by the standard subspace transmitter menu. She entered the sequence she’d been taught and waited as the system connected her.
The channel activated instantly.
Haley flinched at the crotchety old woman whose face dominated the screen. The Strix would not display Haley’s face across a channel, and would change her voice, but she suddenly wondered if the woman’s image was also faked.