“Of course,” said the Captain. “We can use the supermetals in the missiles to prop up some of the repairs.”
“It will leave us all but unarmed,” said Lt. SG Yomatov, the acting Tactical Officer. “Two of the laser rings are down for the count, and we might be able to get fifty percent from the other two.”
“I think propulsion is more important than weapons at this point,” said Jackson, looking over at the Captain.
“I agree with the XO,” said Mei, nodding. “We sure as hell aren’t going to outfight any of those supercruisers in our present state, missiles or not. And the sooner we can get back to base the better.” She looked over at the Engineer. “So get all of those missiles apart, and use what you can on the ship. And any antimatter in the warheads as well.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the officer, noting the orders in his flat comp. He looked back at the Captain with a frown on his face. “We’ve got about half the repair bots working, and might be able to get some more going in a day or so, but we’re still missing a lot of them.” The frown changed to a smile as he continued. “Nanites will not be a problem. Our nanoreplicators can make as many of them as we need. And we can repair the structural damage to the ship with metals from the asteroid, though the skin will be a bit more of a problem.”
“Do the best you can,” said the Captain. “I think it might be better to be able to stealth the ship from the front and one side if we can. We can always maneuver that part to the enemy.”
“So we run and hide back to base,” said Jackson, looking from face to face. “As soon as we can move the ship with some chance of success at hyper.”
“That would seem best,” said the Captain, looking for any sign of disagreement and seeing none. “Then let’s get to work, and see if we can make Jean de Arc at least the semblance of a warship. Then we sneak home and let the yard dogs have a go at her.”
As they left the meeting room Mei gestured for her Exec to follow her and headed down a corridor to another, smaller conference room. “I’ve taken the liberty to have lunch sent in for us Exec,” she said as the door opened and the small woman led the very large man into a four meter square room with a meter and a half wide table in the center. There was a small roast and platters of potatoes and vegetables on the table, and two place settings.
“Dig in,” she told her Exec, as she cut the roast and put some on her plate, followed by the mixed vegetables.
“At least we don’t have to worry about food for a while,” said the Exec, then winced at the troubled expression in his Captain’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know, XO. But it still hurts to walk around the ship and not see all the familiar faces. And the injured.”
“It’s not your fault, Captain,” said Jackson, putting a large hand on top of hers. “The crew knows that. There was only one way to get the Imperial jackass home, and that was for our ship to fight a superior force, with no hope of survival. And we survived the unsurvivable. You know the odds of coming out of a catastrophic translation.”
“One in twenty of anything of the ship involved surviving at all” said the Captain, nodding her head. “One in a hundred of anyone aboard surviving.”
“So we went through two events in as many hours that were almost guaranteed to kill us all, and most of us came out of it alive, if not uninjured. That’s a miracle in my book, Captain.”
“And how does the crew feel about it? The same way as you do?”
“I don’t rightly know, skipper,” said Commander Jackson, bringing a smile to her face with his American colloquialisms. “I think they're all still a little bit in shock. And I for one can’t blame them.”
“In too much shock to function?”
“No, ma’am. They’ll come out of it, given time.”
“Something we do not have a lot of,” said the Captain, putting some butter on a slice of hot bread.
“But we have a little bit of a layover here,” said the Exec with a smile. He took a bite of roast and smiled wider. “This is really good.”
“The cooks were handpicked by a food loving Executive Officer, if I remember correctly,” said the Captain with a laugh. “And the kitchens can function without high tech if necessary.”
“Well, what I was saying Captain, was this little layover here will be good for the crew. Including the hard work they will have to perform."
“With you cracking the whip, Exec?”
“I have to be the one, ma’am, so I can insulate my Captain, and not let her Godhood be questioned,” said Jackson around a bite of food.
“It’s so good of you to act as my High Priest,” said Mei, laughing, then spearing a piece of roast with her fork. “Barbarian.”
“I didn’t think I needed to put on manners in front of my CO,” said the Exec, laughing, then spearing some potatoes.
“Well, eat up,” said Mei Lei, cutting another piece of roast for herself. “Because I don’t think we’re going to have much time over the next couple of days. I’m hoping we can get out of here in one piece.”
* * *
“We should have the first of the hyperwave resonance chambers online in a moment,” said the voice of Commander Jackson over the com. “And number two by tomorrow.”
“Great work, XO,” said the Captain, sitting in her bridge chair and checking out the repairs on the ship’s schematics. The auxiliary computer core was running all automatic functions on the ship, and they were even getting full power from the remaining MAM reactor. There were still some structural weak spots, but they were being taken care of. I think we’ll leave the mining and smelting equipment on the rock when we leave, thought the Captain. If we have need of them again before we get to base we’re totally screwed anyway.
“Resonators should be online, now,” called out the XO.
A tactical map appeared on the main Holo representing space for a parsec in each direction. At first there were a couple of traces, with more appearing each second as the ship’s computer crunched the incoming data.
Jackson whistled over the com from CIC. “There’s sure a lot of traffic out there.”
“There sure as hell is,” said Mei, staring at the holo. “Chief,” she called to the technician who directly monitored the chambers, who could read them much like old Naval sonarmen could echoes in the oceans. “What can you tell me?”
“Not a lot, yet,” said the technician from his quiet room. “There’s a whole lot of traffic in VII. That’s most of what we’re picking up at range.”
“Resonances?”
“Definitely our big horned friends,” said the Chief, with a tone that projected a scowl. “Picking up something else.”
The resonances came over the bridge speakers, and they were something that everyone was familiar with. A tramp freighter moving along in Hyper V, very close, within a couple of light days. Mistuned hyperwave field projectors caused the ship to put out more noise than she should have. For all that she should have been safe in Imperial territory. Should have been.
They could also hear the other resonances, the strange ones that signified the new enemy. “Some of the Caca ships have heard the freighter,” said the Chief. “They are changing vectors.”
And though it would take them hours to change their vectors and velocity enough to drop into V and pursue the freighter, it was already doomed, unless something came to its aid. Something like the battle cruiser they sat in. But it was too damaged for battle.
Mei looked at the screen that showed work crews on the asteroid, tending to the mining and processing machines. Robots were transferring processed metals to the ship, where they were being melded into the structural members and skin of the vessel. There would be some faults in the vessel, but they would be sturdy of skin and bone.
Minutes later the second resonance chamber came online, patched, evacuated of gas, and opening a tiny hole into the Hyper dimensions. The hyper tracks increased with the sensitivity of the second detector, and the space around
them looked even more frightening.
The next day they were ready to leave. The Chief again manned the hyperwave detector rig, and again they looked at the space around them seething with the energies of prowling death. And they waited for the signals to all be as far away as could be expected while they accelerated through normal space at their top rate of seventy gravities. Testing the systems.
“I think this is going to be as good as it gets, ma’am,” said the Chief over the com.
“I agree,” chimmed in the XO from the CIC. ”Signal strength has been decreasing for the last hour.”
“Then let’s do it,” said the Captain, looking at her Helmsman. “Prepare to jump into I.”
“Aye, ma’am. Preparing to jump into Hyper I.”
“Engage,” said Mei Lei, looking at the holo viewer.
“Engaging.” The lights of the bridged dimmed for just a moment, and the space ahead rippled. It rippled again, and a red pinpoint appeared that rapidly expanded into a hole, showing red space scattered with the black dots of gravity wells. “Entering Hyper I,” called out the Helmsman, and everyone waited with baited breath to see what would happen when they went into the higher dimension. It was rare for things to go wrong with a hyperdrive ship in the dimensions when everything was working properly. With Jean de Arc, there was no guarantee that everything would work properly. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the ship slid into Hyper I without a problem.
The ship moved through Hyper I for the next hour, listening to the signals around it. They then translated up to Hyper II, repeating the process until they reached IV, as far up the scale as they could. And then they accelerated, listening closely for any resonance signals that might indicate a vessel able to detect them, changing vectors as needed to stay as far away as possible.
It burned the Captain to have to slink through the night, even though they were accomplishing their task of gathering intelligence. Now they just had to make it back to someplace where they could tell someone who could do something about it.
* * *
BRONSON, JAXSOV AND PARADISO SYSTEMS, NEAR CONUNDRUM SPACE, MARCH 24TH, 1000.
Headquarters was able to use the information transmitted by the Sea Stag to come up with the three probable targets of the Ca’cadasan force heading into the Empire. All were developing systems of some importance, though not vital. All had strong system defenses, but not enough to handle the warships that were heading their way. The Admiralty had to come up with something fast. It was finally decided that a trap would be set in one of the systems, the largest, to which the biggest enemy force was headed. It was also within the range of Conundrum, the Sector Headquarters. By the time the Ca’cadasan force had left the Massadara system the intelligence from Fleet HQ had reached Conundrum through the hyperlink system, which gave Grand Fleet Admiral Duke Taelis Mgonda time to dispatch what force he had to the Bronson system, the only one close enough to the Sector base for the Fleet to arrive before the enemy. And based on the forces involved, it was vital that the Fleet do so.
“We’re in position, Admiral,” called out the Flag Captain.
Mgonda nodded his head as he looked at the plot. In terms of space and time they had arrived in the veritable nick of time. The dots of the enemy ships coming toward the system in hyper almost covered the plot, at least forty of their battleships, as well as a hundred smaller craft. If they stair stepped into the system his force was in the perfect position. If not, then headquarters would probably never know what happened to him and his force.
“Still glad you came out with us?” asked Commodore Jacqueline Murphy, the commander of the superbattleship squadron the Admiral had attached himself to. This was her flag bridge, aboard Empress Catherine the Great.
“I really had no choice,” said Mgonda, not able to take his eyes off the plot. “I didn’t have a senior enough commander to assign this force too in system.”
“And you couldn’t have brevetted Admiral Quang to command this force?” asked the Commodore, disbelief in her voice.
“I could have,” replied the Admiral, nodding his head. “But I was tired of sitting at that damned base with nothing to do but wait on news that wasn’t coming.”
“The heir?”
“Who else. So much depends on getting that boy to the capital, and I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive, or what happened to the force I sent to find him.” And if Mara Montgomery can’t locate him and bring him back, I guess he is lost.
“Be hell to pay if you don’t come back from this mission,” said the Commodore, looking with a worried expression at the plot herself.
“At least I won’t have to pay it,” said Mgonda, flashing a smile at his subordinate. “That’s someone else’s problem.”
“Enemy force starting to translate down to VI,” called out the Flag Captain, who was serving as Fleet Flag Captain for this mission. “Looks like they’re going to follow their usual pattern.”
And that’s the risk, thought Mgonda, watching as the ships translated down from seven and continued on at point three light. If they translate like we’re told they like to, we’ll be in the perfect ambush position. If they come out in one of the higher dimensions of hyper, we’re liable to find ourselves in a long range missile engagement we can’t win. So come in close, you fat bastards, and let’s do this as a knife fight.
He looked at his own forces in the plot. He had a formidable force himself, including this squadron of three superbattleships, as well as nine squadrons of regular battleships and five of battle cruisers, plus over a hundred and fifty smaller vessels. The system defense force, which included four of the battleship class monitors, was also out here with him. Despite that, the enemy force outmassed his by almost double.
“So keep coming in, you bastards,” he said under his breath. “So I can get in the first stab without a reply.”
“Translating down to V,” called out the Flag Captain.
The enemy Fleet was staying bunched, not sending the scouts in ahead. They think they have overwhelming force to take out a system like this, thought the Admiral, looking at another screen that showed the inner system, Bronson III in orbit around the G5 star in the center. The planet boasted a population of over three hundred million, as well as significant planetary and space based industries. Its loss would wound the Empire, not a mortal wound, but with enough like this the human polity could bleed out.
The time seemed to tick by slowly, though the Admiral knew that to be an illusion. Time moved as it did. His ships were still moving into position, but would complete their maneuvers in plenty of time. Many were launching objects into space, to join the thousands of floating things already there.
“Translating into I,” called out the Flag Captain. “Range twenty-four light minutes. ETA at barrier, eight point eight minutes.”
The Admiral looked over at the Commodore, who smiled back nervously. “We’re as ready as we’re going to be,” said the officer.
“All squadrons report ready, sir,” said the Com Officer.
“All ships are weapons released,” said the Mgonda, walking across the flag bridge to the com station, where several techs were working alongside the officer. “Tell the Captains to pick their targets with care. I don’t want to see everyone firing on one ship. No overkill.”
“ETA, six minutes,” called out the Flag Captain. “Holding steady to projected course.”
“That’s right,” said the Commodore, pacing the deck, little more than an observer, like her admiral. “Come on in and eat death.”
“Plasma screens at full on all ships,” reported one of the com techs. “All weapons at full power.”
“How long for them to raise their fields to full?” asked the Commodore, staring at the plot.
“I have no idea,” said the Admiral. “Say a little better than ours. Ten seconds to fully power electromag fields. Maybe twenty to build up a full load of cold plasma. So we have to make every second count.”
If their tech is similar to ours
, and they don’t use the plasma in hyper due to the loss. So many ifs.
“ETA to barrier, five minutes.”
“Launching last of the fighters,” called out the Flight Liaison Officer. “Everyone’s in space.”
“And they have fighters too,” said the Commodore.
“It will take them time to launch them,” replied Mgonda, never taking his eyes off the plot. “Time we are not going to give them.”
“ETA to barrier two minutes,” called out the Flag Captain, while the time clicked by on the clock above the holo.
The Empress Catherine the Great was exactly eight light seconds from the barrier. If the enemy appeared true to form they would be six light seconds away, six seconds travel time for the beam weapons. But there were other things that were going to be much closer.
“ETA ten seconds.”
“We have translations,” yelled the Sensory Officer a few moments later. “Multiple translations in the direction of the star.”
And after a six second delay there they were. Twenty of the huge battleships, thirty-three of the cruisers and scouts. And among them the bright flares of antimatters explosions, as mines detonated and missiles fired from remote launchers into the surprised enemy vessels.
The Catherine the Great’s huge bulk bucked and shuddered as she fired missiles and particle beams to join the lasers that were already reaching for the targets. Every ship in the force fired at the same time, the instant they spotted a target, and within seconds every one of the ships in the enemy group was being hit.
The enemy ships were drawing away with their velocity, to run into more mines, more missiles, and a force of destroyers and fighters firing down their throats. Within seconds half the enemy group was crippled, and even those who weathered the storm sustained severe damage.
More enemy ships popped from hyper with no idea of what was awaiting them. Some got a less than a second glimpse before coming through the openings to hyper I. That was too little to do much with. The mines they were among were the heavy hundred gigaton antimatter variety, and at the least flooded the emerging vessels with waves of heat and hard radiation, shorting systems both electronic and organic. And three of the enemy battleships took critical damage as mines went off less than a hundred kilometers from their hulls, to be followed by fast flying missiles that struck unprotected outer skins.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 3: The Rising Storm Page 26