Wolfhound

by Kindal Debenham

  Two torpedoes had been launched at each transport, but one hit would have been more than sufficient. As the wreckage of the transports spread out, the remaining torpedoes sped through the expanding clouds and shot straight at the carriers that followed them. The larger craft, warned of the approach of the projectiles, swerved ponderously to avoid them, defense turrets flashing as they tried to blast them out of space.

  Some of the first torpedoes were slashed to pieces, but two of the remaining projectiles went straight through the first carrier’s midsection, blasting out the other side in a wave of metal fragments and fire. The stricken ship shuddered violently as secondary blasts wracked it, throwing more bits and pieces in several directions. The second carrier took an even worse hit when three torpedoes ran themselves through the craft lengthwise, ripping long gashes through it until all three exploded out the aft, leaving the shell of the ship to splinter and fragment behind them.

  The last carrier had somehow managed to avoid the instant destruction that claimed the ships ahead of it. Perhaps due to the fact that it had trailed its fellow carriers in the formation, it had managed to shoot up and past the line of attack the torpedoes had followed. As a result, its point defense turrets managed to claim one of the projectiles as they shot past, and anti-missile flechettes claimed two more as they sped away and curved around. Two more torpedoes died as point defense turrets chewed them to pieces, and for a moment it seemed the pirate craft had managed to fight its way free.

  Then the last projectile slammed into the broad structure that made up the crew quarters and bridge of the bulky craft and ripped a giant, gaping hole through the carrier. For a moment, the ship continued forward as if even the impact of that projectile couldn’t stop it, and then the entire rear portion of the ship exploded as the carrier’s main reactor blew up. Melted fragments of hull and armor, fiery remnants of air, and tattered debris that could have been crew were thrown in all directions.

  Jacob nodded in satisfaction and turned his attention back to the situation developing below the Wolfhound. The corvettes had started to recover from the effects of the sailjammers, though they still traveled in simple, direct courses. Though they could not maneuver well, the pirates’ railguns functioned fine. All seven fired at the Talon, but their railgun shells flew past the corvette as it suddenly banked out to the right relative to their course, curving behind a small patch of asteroids. Vengeful, the ships followed, clumsily skimming close to the rocks to catch the ship as it came around. Well done, Ashford.

  As the corvettes passed the small patch of asteroids, the previously unremarkable rocks came alive with energy readings. Iriel’s squadron shot toward the pursuing craft with a suddenness that must have startled the enemy, given their frantic evasive maneuvers they tried to use to escape. The transmission channels came alive with an excited whoop as Iriel led her assault boats into the fray, swooping in to place the small craft alongside the pirate’s hulls.

  One of the assault boats made too steep a dive and collided with a corvette rather than pulling alongside it. Jacob’s stomach twisted as the wireframes of both ships merged and fragmented. The skiff shattered with the impact, throwing boarding crew and metal in all directions, even as the crash tore a large, gaping hole in the corvette’s armor. Air and debris vomited from the corvette’s ruined hull, and the ship tumbled through space as its crew tried to recover control.

  Another assault boat took a hit from point defense turrets, one of which sent it spiraling off into the void by ripping the DE sail rig from its hull. The remaining five assault craft managed a more or less stable attack, however, and an all-clear signal reached Jacob’s console a moment later when the boarding actions began. In moments, the corvettes broke off their pursuit of the Talon; with boarders attacking, the pirates had far too much to worry about to continue chasing Ashford.

  The last, wounded corvette pulled sharply away, as if it was trying to run, but Ashford brought the Talon around. Now the pirates found themselves being pursued, Ashford's ship doggedly maneuvered to line up a volley. Shots raced between the two ships as the fierce exchange continued. Grim at the realization that his people were dying, Jacob shook his head. Then a sudden blast shook the Wolfhound, and Jacob looked up in surprise.

  The ships ahead had recovered from their stunned state, and Dianton had regained control of his remaining ships. One of the four remaining frigates jerked around and dove to where the Talon and the crippled corvette were dueling. Another two twisted to continue their pursuit of the Defender, while the Bloodthorne, its red hull flickering in the light of the explosions on the Executioner, came up and around in a long loop, to descend on the Wolfhound from above. The last of the frigates came along in the larger ship’s wake, leaving the others to escort the flagship in its vengeful counter assault.

  As the ships had broken off onto their courses, the pirates unleashed a barrage of railgun fire. Shells streamed in at the Wolfhound from all sides. Laurie had been prepared for the attack, and the defense turrets began to pick off the incoming projectiles one after another. Shrapnel rained onto the destroyer, and shell fragments rattled off the armor. For a moment, Jacob hoped none of the shots would get through. Then a shell pierced the defensive screen and struck the bow, exploding violently right next to the gun decks.

  The instant he saw where the damage was, he braced himself instinctively. If it got to a magazine… The thought trailed off on its own when he realized he’d had more time to ponder his death than a disaster on that scale would have given him. He looked to where Al-shira was at her console, a question implicit in his glance.

  She shook her head. “Isaac’s fine. They’re reporting a few casualties and a bit of damage to the gun decks, but they should be all right. Apparently the extra armor plating helped out more than we thought.”

  Jacob nodded, thanking whatever Being had sent Yorkshire to him, before the ship shuddered again with the force of the Wolfhound’s return fire. The shells streamed toward the frigate following in the Bloodthorne’s wake, angled to intercept the ship’s course.

  This time, the target should have been well aware of the incoming attacks, but the shells came not in a single, easily intercepted or avoidable wave, but in an uninterrupted stream. Defensive fire picked off each individual shell at first, but the frigate's turrets were slowly overwhelmed. First one shell, then another slipped through. A high-speed shell struck the bow, digging in and exploding. A heavy shell smashed home along the port flank, shattering armor plates and hull metal. The bombardment continued as the frigate plowed forward, staggering through the shells like a punch-drunk fighter still taking blows as the defenses faltered and failed. By the time the guns fell silent, the front of the pirate ship had been reduced to a mass of twisted metal and cratered armor plates.

  Heedless of the terrible damage its companion had suffered, the Bloodthorne continued its swooping approach. As the enemy craft drew closer, an alert sounded on the bridge. Jacob glanced at Al-shira again. Her face was pale. “We’ve been targeted by missile systems and the plasma cannon.” The edge of fear in her voice cut through the satisfaction Jacob had been feeling, and he turned back to the tactical projection. This is going to get ugly.

  The space outside the Wolfhound whirled as the helmsman jerked at his controls, and Jacob felt the pull of the maneuver shoving him against his restraints. On the tactical image, the wireframe rendering of the Wolfhound twisted, curving its course down and to the right, meaning to dive past the course of the enemy destroyer. Even as they made the move, Jacob saw the pirates shifting their own course to match it. His hands clenched the arms of the chair as the ships moved, and he felt his face twist in a desperate grimace.

  Alarms rang on the bridge as two pairs of blips shot from the Bloodthorne. Al-shira, her hands grasping either side of her control console, shouted over them. “Missiles are away! Keep us clear of them!”

  “I’m trying!” The petty officer’s snarl was harsh enough to cut through the din. As Jacob watched, a f
lurry of defense turrets cut through space, lashing out at the incoming missiles. On the other side of the ship, a burst of energy heralded the launch of a decoy. One of the projectiles exploded when a plasma cannon caught it. Two more swerved violently toward the decoy and flew past the destroyer before they could be redirected toward their true target.

  The fourth missile came straight on, smashing into the ship halfway up from the bow. Then, to everyone’s silent amazement, it bounced off, flying a wobbling course through space before a feeble explosion consumed it.

  Al-shira, unsurprisingly, found her voice first. “A dud.”

  The wonder in her voice found an echo in Jacob for a short moment, and then the tactical screen lit up as if a firework had gone off.

  Bloodthorne swooped in on them from above and opened fire. Its plasma lance carved through space, the devastating beam of superheated gas sweeping toward the Wolfhound. Jacob watched in horror as it burned closer to the hull, his insides writhing in anticipation of the hit. Then the lance made contact, caressing the starboard flank of the destroyer for a long moment and burning a swath of armor from it. More alarms screamed as the Wolfhound shuddered at that whisper of destruction’s touch, and the shriek of melting plates and the roar of burning air could be heard even in the bridge.

  After an eternal moment, the lance was gone, shut off as the Wolfhound managed to maneuver away. Jacob shook himself out of the dull mix of horror and relief that was keeping him still. “The missiles?”

  “Flechettes got them. There’s nothing left to worry about.” Al-shira’s voice trembled when she answered, and Jacob tried not to notice the way her hands shook.

  “Can we still move?”

  “Yes, sir. They only barely caught us. There are hull breaches along deck two and a couple of holes on deck one, but it's mostly sealed off. We’ve lost armor all along the starboard side. If we take another good hit there…” Al-shira’s voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “It’s best if we break off for a bit, or at least keep that side away from the enemy.”

  Jacob hesitated as he watched the Bloodthorne pass. The pirate ship made no move to come around. In fact, the enemy destroyer was accelerating, leaving the damaged Wolfhound as if Dianton had lost interest in it. What’s his game?

  Magnifying the view of the battle, Jacob ran his eyes over the progress of the engagement. The corvette which had been facing the Talon was entirely crippled now; Ashford had managed to put a few railgun shells into in its side, and whatever he had hit had shut down both the DE sail rigs and the running lights for the vessel. None of the corvettes which had been boarded had managed to shake off the attacks, and they were either maneuvering clumsily away from the fight or continuing on a neutral course, indicating the ships were taken or still contested.

  The frigate closing on the Talon was still far from contact, but Ashford was making up some of the distance with an eagerness to fight that surprised Jacob given his usual dour mood. Meanwhile, Taylor had the Defender locked in a spiraling engagement with the other two frigates, each side blasting away at each other viciously. If Dianton wanted, a missile volley put into any of those directions could take out one of the smaller ships and turn the tide of the battle, but something about that course of action felt uncharacteristic of the pirate admiral.

  Then Jacob's eyes locked on Reefhome Station, and Dianton’s current course fell horribly into place.

  “Bring us around. We have to go after him.” Al-shira looked at him half in rebuke and half in surprise. He shook his head and pointed one finger at the projection in front of him. “He’s going for the Station. Bring us around!”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Al-shira nodded, and the helmsman twisted the controls. On the wireframe projection of the battle, Jacob watched, tense, as the Wolfhound slowly came around to chase after the Bloodthorne. He’s got a pretty good head start. We can’t let him get away!

  As the Wolfhound came around, the enemy ship fired off another burst of railgun fire. Explosions tore through space as railgun shells met plasma bursts or bounced off the Wolfhound’s armor. The ship shook as a pair of shots made it through to skip off the hull, but no more serious damage occurred.

  The Wolfhound's response came seconds later. Every gun on the destroyer opened fire on the Bloodthorne, once again timing the shots to send a continuous stream of projectiles. Isaac’s crews had focused their shots on the secondary DE rigs on either side of the enemy craft, and the point defense turrets on the enemy craft were working at an incredible pace as they picked off shot after shot.

  In the end, only a small fraction of the shells made it through. Two heavy railgun shells struck the rear armor of the Bloodthorne, marring the hull of the pirate ship with scorch marks. The long-range guns managed a single blow, nicking the edge of the main DE sail rig, causing it to flicker slightly. Jacob cursed as the distance between the two ships grew. The Bloodthorne started to come around the edge of the asteroid shielding the station, offering a clear line of fire on the civilians there.

  Jacob leaned forward as the Wolfhound closed in. He could almost feel the two ships straining under the battle damage to reach the prey ahead. His heart was beating hard, and the adrenaline surge from the near hit by the plasma cannon continued to pump through his veins. He spared the rest of the battle a quick glance, noting that one of the Defender’s opponents was breaking off, its bow a shattered mess, while the frigate sent to intercept the Talon seemed to be having a difficult time keeping up with Ashford’s maneuvers.

  Then his focus returned to the chase. His eyes came back to the narrower struggle just as the Bloodthorne’s guns unleashed another vicious salvo of railgun fire at the Wolfhound’s bow. Laurie’s point defense cannon sliced through the double wave of shells, but the defensive fire seemed less effective this time. Two of the eight shells made it through. One bounced off the armor, ricocheting into space like a stone skipping off water before exploding harmlessly. The other smashed into the wreckage that already littered the bow, digging into the mess with an explosion that made the whole ship tremble.

  “Laurie, what’s going on with the turrets?” Jacob fought hard to keep his voice calm, but when the Countermeasures officer answered, he could feel her enraged glare through the speaker.

  “That hit with the plasma lance must have burned some of them off. We’re not going to be able to catch everything now.” The frustration in her voice was clear, and Jacob settled back into his seat. Al-shira looked at him uncertainly.

  “We might not be able to stop him, sir. If we keep going, we might get killed.” Her statement brought sudden silence. Jacob felt the eyes of the rest of the bridge crew on him as they waited for his response.

  “We’re going to stop them. We have no other choice.”

  At that moment, the main projection showed the station rolling into view around the edge of the asteroid. Reefhome Station glimmered, a hundred lights sparkling across the distance. Jacob motioned to it with one hand. “We’re not going to leave them to die alone in the dark. Let’s show the pirates what they brought on themselves by coming here!”

  With a stab of his finger, he brought up the channel to Isaac. “Guns, give me his engines. We need them taken down now!”

  “Yes sir. Ammunition loaded… firing!”

  The destroyer rumbled again, and shards of the bow flaked off as the railguns fired in a solid double volley. Eighteen shells sped toward the pirate ship’s aft, and once again the plasma of the point defense turrets shot back at them. Shells exploded, torn to shreds by the accurate counter-fire, until the space behind the Bloodthorne was alive with shrapnel and fire.

  A second, lesser rumble announced the long-range guns had fired. Why so late? Jacob leaned forward, desperate to see the result. The six shells sped through the chaos left by the deaths of the other, heavier shells. Point defense turrets fired again, but this time their movements were less sure, less terribly accurate. Though the six shells still suffered under the flare of the plasma reachi
ng out for them, two managed to get through.

  Only two hits, but the accuracy of the guns made up for it by tearing straight through one of the enemy DE rigs, ripping the starboard mast straight off of the ship. For a moment, the functional DE rig on the other side started to push the destroyer off course, but then the sails there flickered and died, leaving the Bloodthorne to continue forward on only its primary rig.

  “Good shooting, Isaac. Helm, bring us in close. We don’t want to have to deal with another missile volley, and the angle would be better to take the things down if they shoot at the station.”

  The petty officer nodded, and the Wolfhound surged forward with renewed speed as the distance between the two ships shrunk.

  Rather than be chased down, Dianton had decided to face the Wolfhound head on. The enemy destroyer pulled up and around, its movements slower than before, but still well handled. Jacob grunted as the distance closed even faster. This could get ugly.

  His thoughts were confirmed a moment later when two missiles shot out from the Bloodthorne. Rather than heading for the Wolfhound, the missiles shot towards the station. Delarouge had already launched flechettes, sending the slender anti-missile projectiles on a course following the warheads, but the accelerating missiles quickly left them behind.

  Jacob’s breath caught as the two warheads closed in on the station. Point defense turrets they’d salvaged from the pirate ships they had previously destroyed shot out to intercept the projectiles. The beams of energy and superheated gas seemed much longer than they should have been, given a boost by Reefhome’s larger energy supply.

  Tendrils of plasma swept through space in a frantic dance. One of the missiles bloomed out into a violent explosion when a plasma turret bisected it. Jacob felt his heart catch in his throat as the other missile danced through the waves of plasma fire. It avoided the bursts of defensive fire as it wove its way close to the target. An unspoken prayer rose in him as he watched the screen, hoping for a miracle.