by D. J. Holmes
“Well sir,” Somerville said and then paused to buy himself some time to think. “You have seen my report. Even when the odds were against them the Russian warships I encountered were quick to engage. The fact that they have landed such large quantities of ground forces and have been so ruthless in weeding out any resistance certainly suggests they plan to stay. You know better than I that the Russians had been demanding access to valstronium for years. New France’s deposits don’t compare to Britannia’s, but beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t mean to cause insult but your colonial empire is the low hanging fruit. Britain and America’s navies are much more developed than yours and we can count on a larger industrial base if it came to a long protracted war.
“My guess is they thought they could grab New France and hold on long enough to build their own valstronium armored warships. You know my government can’t spare too many ships to aid you. We have the Chinese to worry about. And the Americans are all the way on the other side of human space. The Russians probably decided to strike while your navy was still too weak to win on its own. They have made a mistake though. My government has no desire to share a border with Russia and China and the Americans don’t want to see even a hint of a resurgent Russia. I believe we have the forces necessary to stop them.”
“Agreed,” Villeneuve said, “Now go and meet with Vice Admiral Jamison and the rest of your naval officers.”
“Yes sir,” Somerville said as he left the briefing room.
Down the corridor, Somerville made his way into the room being used by the British officers. Everyone else was already there and when Somerville sat Jamison stood to address his Captains.
“First, let me introduce you all to our newest Commodore. Stand up Somerville,” Jamison said, smiling as he gestured Somerville to stand. “Admiral Villeneuve has seen fit to promote our accomplished friend to temporary flag rank for the duration of this fleet’s mission, so he’ll be acting as my second in command. Somerville’s Achilles will be docking with the French military station. As I understand it she will need all the time in the repair yard she can get?”
Somerville sat down again and nodded as Jamison looked at him for confirmation.
“Due to Somerville’s recent promotion he will be transferring over to my flagship, Custodian, so he can be involved in our fleet drills,” Jamison explained. “If anything happens to me he needs to be up to speed and I’m sure we will all benefit from his experience. I trust your First Lieutenant can handle the repairs in your absence?”
“Certainly sir,” Somerville answered. “He will enjoy getting out from under my watchful gaze for a few days.”
“Very good.” Jamison said. “Now, we’re here to work out our position in the combined fleet. Let’s get down to business.”
*
Two hour later Somerville was sitting in one of Achilles’ shuttles on his way back to his ship. Jamison had given him a few hours to gather what he would need for the next week and hand over command to Hamilton. As he was waiting for the shuttle to complete the flight between the two warships he pulled out his personal datapad. He hadn’t had time to see if the fleet had brought any messages from Earth. Pleased, he saw that his wife had sent him two letters. Both were filled with news of her life and her burgeoning career as a writer. Somerville loved to read and he was slowly building a collection of old fashioned paper novels. It was how they had first met, they had both been searching for the same novel in a dusty old bookshop in London. After agreeing to share it they had then shared a meal. Her second letter was also filled with her hopes and dreams of starting a family when he got home. Apparently she had already begun renovating a number of rooms in the large seventeenth century house his father had given him. It had been in the family since they had first built it.
When he opened the next message he saw the source of his wife’s pinning. His brother had sent a communication announcing the birth of his second son; James Bartholomew Andrew Somerville.
Somerville felt a sudden connection to the boy. As the second son of the heir to the Dukedom of Beaufort his future was already set in stone. While his older brother would inherit the title and most of the family’s wealth, he would be consigned to a supporting position. Somerville knew exactly what that was like for he had played the role all his life.
His elder brother, James’ father, had been the apple of their father’s eye. All the focus and attention had been on him. He was the one who would continue the family name. He was one who would lead the family business to greater and greater heights. The younger siblings were just there to support his leadership.
It wasn’t all-bad Somerville had to admit. It had allowed him to enter the navy. That was an appropriate place for the son of a nobleman to earn his family some honor. If he had been the oldest, he would have had to stay on Earth and learn to lead the family business. Maybe someday James would join the navy too. Somerville looked forward to taking the boy under his wing. Certainly, they would have a lot in common. If that was ever to happen though, he had a lot of Russians to get through first.
Chapter 6 – Close the Enemy
9th October 2439, New France System
On both the visual feeds and the gravimetric sensors the combined fleet looked impressive as it excited shift space and formed up on the edge of the New France System. It had taken them a few days longer than originally planned but they were finally here. The Russian reaction was swift. Their fleet immediately lit off their engines and began to move to engage the intruders. Somerville’s intel had already proved its worth though, for the fleet had exited shift space with the most velocity they could safely carry into the system. As soon as the fleet formed up they boosted to their maximum acceleration and angled away from the Russian ships.
Villeneuve had given the Russian commander a problem almost immediately. The French Admiral had rightly identified the Behemoths as battlestations with engines. That’s how they should be used Somerville thought as he watched them try desperately to catch the more nimble coalition fleet. If they had been kept closer to the colony any attempt to liberate it would have had to go through the giant ships. As it was, Villeneuve was about to successfully circumnavigate them and make a break for the planet. The Russian commander could detach his smaller ships to chase Villeneuve but they would be outnumbered.
In the end, he chose to follow the coalition fleet towards New France. As he did, he could only watch hopelessly as hundreds of shuttles began to pour out of the coalition ships disgorging thousands of troops onto New France to take the fight to the Russian soldiers. The Russian ships that had been in orbit had already fled and were making their way to the shift passage to Cartier as they sought safety.
As Jonathan watched Achilles’ two shuttles dive into the planet’s atmosphere carrying his marines a beep informed him he was receiving a COM message from the planet. When he accepted it General Ney’s face appeared. His uniform looked considerably more crumpled and the general appeared to have lost some weight. The passion in his eyes was the same though. “Welcome back to New France,” he began, “I see you have brought some of my compatriots with you. I am in your debt mon ami.”
“Nonsense,” Somerville said, “I’m just doing my duty. I’m glad to see you’re still alive though. I’m sure the last weeks have been a living hell. Hopefully you can have a bit more fun with the Russians now that you can tackle them on a level playing field.”
“Indeed I will,” Ney said with a feral smile, “They won’t know what has hit them. When all this is over I’ll have to have you down to the planet for a meal with my wife. We can show you around. Let you see what we are fighting for.”
“It would be my pleasure, we are about to round the planet now so until then,” Somerville said with a salute. As Ney saluted back he switched off the COM and refocused on his ship.
Villeneuve had taken the coalition fleet deep into the colony’s orbit in order to drop as many shuttles as they could as they flew past the planet at their top speed.
He then used the colony’s gravity to slingshot the fleet onto a trajectory out of the system, directly towards the approaching Russian ships. If they wanted to attack the ground troops, they would have to go through Villeneuve’s fleet.
“Signal from the Flag,” the Lieutenant manning the communications console called to Somerville. “All ships form line of battle.”
Somerville smiled. The historical reference wasn’t lost on him. He loved to read books on the Earth wars that occurred during the age of sail. Back when ships were forced to go with the wind, the best way to engage an enemy fleet was to form a single line of ships to present as many cannons at the enemy as possible. In the modern era of interstellar war things were remarkably similar. Whoever could bring the most missiles to bear on the enemy fleet would likely win.
As the different sections of the coalition fleet moved into their allotted slots in the formation, a counter appeared on the main holo display. The Russian fleet would enter missile range in twenty minutes. For Somerville, time seemed to slow down as he surveyed the Russian fleet. Surrounding the five Behemoths were twenty light cruisers, thirty four destroyers and ten of the smaller frigates. The coalition fleet had nine medium cruisers, eighteen light cruisers, thirty destroyers and twenty five frigates. The majority of the French fleet had come to New France and so this battle would prove decisive. If Villeneuve lost, France would have to concede their colonies to Russia. Even if Ney won the ground war on New France the French government would have no more ships to send to support him.
As if aware of the significance of the battle, the Russian commander began to slow his ships as soon as the coalition ships began to come around the planet. He wanted to keep Villeneuve’s fleet within his missile range for as long as possible. One way or another, there would be a decisive outcome to the coming battle.
When the counter on the holo display showed sixty seconds to go, Somerville took his eyes off the approaching Russian fleet. “Prepare to fire,” he ordered. In his head he counted down the remaining time. “Fire!”
As one the ships of the coalition fleet opened fire and the ripple of multiple missiles igniting their engines could be seen going down every ship. Just over four hundred missiles raced off towards the Russian fleet. Moments later they replied by firing their own salvo of four hundred and eighty.
As both fleets were approaching each other on almost converging courses the flight time for the missiles was less then ten minutes. Five minutes in both salvos passed each other in the dark emptiness of space. Then, when they entered range of their target’s point defenses, space lit up like a fireworks display. Green plasma bolts tore through space, trying to hit the dodging missiles, while AM missiles added their explosions to the display of color. The occasional hit that ruptured a missile’s fuel cell added even larger explosions to the mix.
The coalition forces managed to reduce the Russian missiles to about thirty before they had to go into evasive maneuvers. As the remaining missiles began to explode among the fleet Somerville watched the damage reports coming in. A frigate and three destroyers were the first to be reported lost. Then two light cruisers reported taking hits. One of them blew up seconds later while the second fell out of the line of battle, no longer able to keep in formation with her engines damaged. One of the medium cruisers also reported taking a proximity hit but her valstronium armor held and she remained in position.
Villeneuve had ordered the first salvo of missiles aimed at the Russian light cruisers. Without valstronium armor they were much more vulnerable to a proximity hit and a direct hit from any of the coalition’s larger cruiser missiles would knock them out of the fight. The Behemoths were much more heavily armed and were going to take much more of a hammering before they gave up. The French Admiral had other plans for them. As the British missiles came roaring into the Russian fleet their point defenses began to shred them, but not quickly enough. Twenty missiles burst through the point defense fire into the Russian fleet. Twelve of them got proximity or direct hits. The Russian fleet was still too far away for Somerville to watch the explosions in real time but on the gravimetric plot he watched as ten Russian light cruisers either disappeared or fell out of formation.
Even before the first salvo of missiles from either fleet had reached their targets both groups of ships had fired a second and another eight hundred and eighty missiles silently passed each other on their way to bring death and destruction. Their passing was what Villeneuve had been waiting for, for he instantly sent his next signal to the fleet.
“Another signal from the Flag sir,” the communications officer called, “Close the Enemy.”
“Acknowledge,” Somerville ordered. “Navigation, execute maneuver delta four, follow the flagship’s lead.”
As Argonaute began to roll the rest of the coalition fleet followed suit. Using her maneuvering thrusters she completed a one hundred and eighty degree roll that presented her unfired port broadside missiles at the Russians. As they came to bear she, along with every other coalition ship, fired another four hundred missiles towards the Russians.
Ordinarily, this was not a move recommended at any naval academy. Firing a missile at a target light minutes away, travelling at a significant percentage of the speed of light, required extremely precise calculations. Turning a ship and trying to line up another set of missiles took longer than reloading the tubes that already had their targets locked in from the previous salvo.
The coalition forces weren’t targeting the Russian ships though. As soon as all their missiles raced away from their parent ships they began to fan out into a uniform patter. Typically, anti-ship thermonuclear missiles were set to produce a uniform spherical explosion. The thinking was that if a missile scored a direct hit on another ship, the damage from the impact of the missile travelling at such a high speed would be so great, that losing some of the warhead’s explosion into space would be irrelevant. On the other hand, if the missile missed and tried to get a proximity hit, then a spherical explosion would increase the chances of causing more damage.
Villeneuve had ordered all the missiles in his fleet’s port missile tubes to be altered before they had jumped into the system. Instead of producing a spherical nuclear explosion their warheads now focused all their explosive force down a narrow angle out of the missile’s nose cone. As the seeker heads on the British missiles detected the heat bloom of the Russian missiles, they detonated as one. The explosive force from the thermonuclear explosions and the resultant wave of intense electromagnetic radiation washed over the Russian missiles. Some exploded out right while many others shot off at angles away from the British fleet as their seeker heads were fried by the radiation. In the blink of an eye four hundred and eighty missiles were reduced to less than three hundred.
Seconds later the missiles that remained were greeted by a hail of point defense fire. Only ten of the three hundred made it through to attack their targets and another light cruiser, two destroyers and three frigates dropped out of the coalition fleet, either destroyed or crippled.
After the last missile exploded among the British fleet Villeneuve gave his final prearranged order. Somerville could imagine the look on the Admiral’s face as he gave the order, “Close the Enemy Further.”
Again the ships of the coalition forces followed the flagship’s lead as she turned her nose towards the Russian ships and fully engaged her engines.
Now Villeneuve had shown his cards. The Russian Behemoths had sacrificed heavy plasma cannons for more missile tubes. In theory it made sense. With the amount of missiles they carried who would have thought anything would survive under their withering fire long enough to get into plasma range?
Yet Villeneuve’s plan of luring the Russians to chase him towards New France had done exactly that. By using the planet’s gravity to swing back on a direct course for the Russian fleet he had left them with nowhere to go. The better acceleration of the valstronium armored ships meant the Russians couldn’t out run them and with both fleets now he
ading for each other there wasn’t time for the Russians to fire another salvo before they got into plasma cannon range.
When Somerville was satisfied his ship was in formation he turned his attention to the Russian fleet. “Sensors,” he called over to Lieutenant Jensen, “how did the Russians cope with our second broadside?” With all the commotion he hadn’t been able to watch the second salvo of missiles smash into the Russians.
“We got seven more Russian light cruisers sir, and at least six destroyers by my count.”
Somerville only nodded. Even lightly armed the Russian Behemoths still had more heavy plasma cannons than their light cruisers, but only a few. The initial twenty Russian light cruisers had, therefore, carried the majority of the Russian fleet’s heavy plasma cannons. They had now been severely reduced.
Looking at the plot, Somerville picked out another light cruiser. “There, the fourth cruiser in their fleet. Target it with our forward plasma cannon. Then target the other two at the closest Behemoth. Fire as soon as we come into range.”
Achilles was armed with three twin heavy plasma cannon turrets. Firing large bolts of super-heated plasma they had a greater range than their smaller point defense brothers. The super-heated plasma proved to be devastatingly effective at shredding another ship, whether it had valstronium armor or not. Usually if ships closed to engage each other with plasma cannons it would end in mutually assured destruction. In a fleet engagement though, if one had an advantage in heavy plasma cannons, then they could cripple their opponents quickly.