by Nick Cole
“Why is Landoo not already destroyed?” Kaar barked so loud that his ears rang.
“I don’t know, Delegate.”
Devers looked… too calm for a man supposed to be engaged in ship-to-ship combat. Kaar reminded himself that the admiral was not a warrior. Not truly. He was a political tool. If other people were dying and he was keeping himself to the rear of the action, then perhaps he didn’t feel the life-and-death struggle one was supposed to feel in these situations. Still, the admiral’s reaction bothered the delegate on levels he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Did she not receive your messages? Did she not respond to your hails demanding that she form up in front of your fleet?”
“She didn’t respond to hails, and I don’t know if she ever saw the messages,” answered Devers. “Admiral Rommal believes a lone corvette escaped the blockade and informed her of what happened. I can’t convince her otherwise, even if she did answer my hails. I—I’ve stopped trying. I don’t know how else I… Tell me what to do, Delegate Kaar.”
A corvette. A single corvette could not possibly be the difference between success and failure, could it? The fortunes of war…
Kaar calmed himself. “This is not disastrous. This can be overcome. Admiral Landoo, sadly, is among the traitorous elements you engaged at Tarrago. We’ll figure out how to explain the Black Fleet at a later date. It is absolutely imperative that you prevent any of her ships from escaping. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Delegate Kaar.”
“Kill them all, Silas.”
Kaar ended the transmission knowing that success rested with Sullus’s officers and not his own. Admiral Devers was in entirely over his head.
Republic Seventh Fleet
First Squadron, “Gray Wolves,” Ad Hoc Special Operations Strike Command
Inbound on Terror
0521 Local System Time
“Gray Leader, this is Bandit Lead. Stay in tight, we’re commencing our attack run now. We’ll cover your approach to target!”
Commander Luq tried to ignore the star field all around him. Everything was pure chaos and no-holds-barred warfare. These strange tri-deflector fighters were swarming the Republic fighters that raced across the hulls of the massive battleships still bearing down on the Seventh Fleet. In waves, the tri-fighters were coming at them like frenetic shotgun bursts filling the space between with blazing red blaster shots. Deflectors got smashed and damage was taken, but the squadrons were hanging in there and giving back as good as they got.
“Gray Leader to Gray Seven.”
“Gray Seven here.”
Gray Seven was an electronic warfare and assessment Lancer configured to deflect targeting and jam enemy sensors. Special Operations Strike Command had put together an ad hoc force and assigned Gray Seven as a target-of-opportunity cohort to be used by the on-site leader.
Besides Gray Seven in the Lancer-EW, there were two Lancer torpedo bombers, Gray Five and Six, each loaded with deep penetration high-yield torpedoes, and two other interceptors riding shotgun. And Paladin Squadron was in formation all around the ad hoc strike force, peeling off to engage the wicked little tri-fighters that were racing in for the torpedo bombers.
“Are we still getting good targeting data out of that possible reactor, Gray Seven?”
“Everything looks good, Gray Leader. We confirm that’s a shielding reactor near what we’re identifying as the main bridge above the superstructure. We’re also getting good sensor feedback on these ships. They’re incredible. Packaging and encrypting for Command.”
“Roger that,” replied Luq as one of the Paladins exploded in front of him. “Gray Six, you follow me and Gray Two into the target. If we fail, Gray Three and Five you’re up next. Good luck and good hunting.”
Black Fleet
Bridge of the Terror
0525 Local System Time
“Captain, we’ve identified what look to be torpedo bombers inbound on our position.”
Captain Gulza wiped away the holographic display he was using and called up the tagged enemy targets. Mainly the wave of fighters inbound. “Where?”
The Terror’s CIC highlighted the two torpedo bombers within the formations now advancing against the three battleships.
“Tell Commander Jaysu to knock out those fighters. Highest priority. Inform forward batteries. Make it extremely difficult for them to get through.”
“As you command, sir.”
Black Fleet
Third Wing, First Squadron, “Pit Vipers”
0526 Local System Time
Kat Haladis smoked another Lancer and tore away from the thick of the roving dogfight as two other Lancers interceptors peeled off to engage her.
“Viper Lead, priority tasking.” It was the wing commander. “Need you to knock out these incoming two bombers. Highest priority. They’re torpedo-equipped, so they’re going to have a lot of cover. You up for it, Kat?”
“Targeting to engage now, sir.”
Kat tagged both bombers and switched her blasters to high-intensity gain. Bombers would have thick deflectors and armor. She’d need to punch through to take them out.
“Vipers Four and Five… on me.”
Levenir Orbit
The Galactic Core
It worked! It actually worked!
Cade Thrane smiled at the incoming comm message from Garrett Glover. It looked to have been sent in the same manner as his own, meaning Garrett had examined the transmission and had seen the same usefulness in the method that Thrane had. Thrane doubted his fellow code slicer would ever use the old comm relay system again. He certainly wouldn’t.
The comm message was text only. Disappointing, because Thrane wanted to talk to Garrett about what he’d seen and done so far. Maybe catch up a bit. It could be lonely at times, making a living doing something that the rest of the galaxy seemed incapable of comprehending.
He opened the message:
Cool transmission system! Did U build? I’m stealing, btw. Also, I enclosed some notes on the encryption. Hope they help! — Garrett
Thrane opened the attachments and began to peruse the encryption code, taking in Garrett’s comments and notes like a starving man eating his first meal in weeks.
“Yes!” he shouted. “Of course! Gah, it’s so obvious once you factor for—why didn’t I think of that? Yes!”
He would crack this code soon. He was sure of it.
Republic Seventh Fleet
First Squadron, “Gray Wolves,” Ad Hoc Special Operations Strike Command
0527 Local System Time
“Close up and follow me in, Gray Six.”
Commander Luq increased to attack speed and dove toward the looming battleship below. Heavy concentrations of turret fire from across the upper decks were being hurled up at them in furious desperation.
OU7 whirred and beeped that it was increasing forward deflector power.
Luq cursed as one shot got through and seared the port side engine, knocking out the blaster on that side.
“Fifteen seconds to drop, Commander,” called out an obviously shaken torpedo bomber pilot on his six.
“Hang in there!” called out Luq as he simultaneously tried to fly, dodge, and reroute damage control systems to knock out the electrical fire developing in the port engine.
Chikkka bluuuur! cheered OU7, alerting Luq that they had tri-fighters coming in.
“Ten seconds! Keep ’em off me!” warned the torpedo bomber pilot.
Luq backed off his throttle and pulled up hard to cut across the tri-fighters’ firing arcs. He was getting collision alert warnings as two enemy fighters scrambled to avoid his sudden and wild charge straight at them. He pushed the throttle forward to max power and unloaded with the one remaining wing blaster.
OU7 whooped for joy. It loved close-quarters space combat.
Black Fleet
Third Wing, First Squadron, “Pit Vipers”
0529 Local System Time
Too close, Kat’s mind shrieked a
s Vipers Four and Five took evasive action. But Kat’s jaw was set. Her shoulders tight. Every fiber of her being bent forward into the targeting reticule. Willing herself to kill first.
This was for Dasto!
All of it was for her big brother. Her hero. A hero the Republic had thrown away in a useless grand gesture. They would pay now. They would all pay, and she wasn’t getting out of the way of the Lancer that had just broken up her attack.
She rolled the fighter about its yaw axis and maintained a solid sight picture on the tagged torpedo bomber racing through turret fire across the hull of the Terror below.
A close moment happened. A moment when she saw the tiny bot on the Lancer spin its top sensor unit and emit a series of flashing lights. Reacting to her close pass and ludicrous speed.
It was that close.
At top speed.
Blasters blazing.
She must’ve scared the poor thing to death. She’d always had a place for bots in her heart. Once, long ago, she had wanted to be a bot doctor. They were the galaxy’s slaves. In a galaxy that cared little for the small things, they needed someone to care for them.
But that had been another her. A different Kat Haladis. One who hadn’t existed since the day before Dasto died. Meaninglessly.
But today…
… Today was not that day.
Today she was vengeance victorious. Today she was winged death.
She rolled out on course and came in right behind the torpedo bomber. She backed off her speed and lined up for the kill.
Republic Seventh Fleet
First Squadron, “Gray Wolves,” Ad Hoc Special Operations Strike Command
0530 Local System Time
“Targeting data locked, firing solution good. Launching!” cried Gray Six over the comm. The young pilot reached over to arm both torpedoes and let them loose. After that he’d peel away and be out of this battle.
Except there was no “after that.”
Kat Haladis unloaded slower yet much more powerful bursts from her overcharged blasters. The first shots slammed into the reinforced rear deflectors of the torpedo bomber.
Alarms and sirens went off, and the pilot tried to redirect battery power into the rear deflectors.
The next shots from the black-and-gray tri-fighter knocked out the deflectors altogether and caused a power surge in the cockpit. Static discharge and wild electricity ran loose, and Gray Six pulled his hands away from the smoking systems.
Then Kat was lobbing blaster shots into his unprotected hull. It only took three before the whole torpedo bomber disintegrated just above the battleship Terror.
***
Commander Luq raced back toward the next strike team.
“Gray Seven! Did we get a shot off?”
“Negative, negative, Gray Leader. No shot. I say no shot. We’ll have to go over the target again.”
The dogfight between both masses of fighters was now swarming across all three battleships. Lancers and Raptors were killing and being killed by the wicked tri-fighter interceptors as linked turret fire pinned down the strays and blasted them to dust and vapor.
“Gray Leader, this is Bandit Lead. If you’re going to make your run, do it now. We won’t be able to keep them busy much—”
Somewhere out in the dogfight, across the three massive hulls of the immense ships… Bandit Leader was gone.
“All right, Gray Squadron… follow me,” said Gray Leader. “This is for all the marbles. We’re going in at max intercept speed.”
“We won’t be able to pull away from the ship at that angle, Gray Leader, not if we’re going that fast.”
Gray Two, Five, and Seven formed up off his wings.
Luq did a visual inspection and said, “Increase to intercept speed and stay close.” Before pushing the throttle full forward, he added, “We’re going in no matter what.”
Black Fleet
Bridge of the Terror
0533 Local System Time
“Concentrate all turret fire on that group now!” shouted Captain Gulza.
Aides and officers bent toward their stations as orders were transmitted.
Gulza stood up to watch out the windows of the bridge. He could see the torpedo bomber formation streaking in toward the bow of the ship far below.
“Viper Lead reports both interceptors down!”
“I don’t care about the damn interceptors!” shouted Gulza. “Take out that torpedo bomber now!”
“Sir, gunnery can’t track. They’re moving too fast for our linked firing solutions.”
“Tell them to switch to independent.”
The torpedo bomber launched its weapons package.
“Loose comet!” shouted Terror’s CIC. Loose comet was code for an active torpedo.
“Countermeasures to full!” shouted Captain Gulza. “Helm stand by to—”
The burning hot torpedo streaked across the windows of the bridge. And Gulza, in that brief instant, knew they’d targeted the deflector reactor atop the command section.
The explosion resonated across the hull, sending a dull rumble through the superstructure,.
“Damage report!” shouted the CIC.
The damage information coordinator shouted above the din, “They’ve knocked out our shielding reactor! We’re defenseless!”
And then Commander Luq smashed his speeding Lancer into the decks above the bridge. He hadn’t meant to. Gray Five had been right. Their speed was too great to deliver the weapon and pull off the escape angle.
Gray Leader went into the target acquisition processors above the bridge.
Gray Two careened off the superstructure and went spinning off into the outer darkness.
And Gray Seven plowed directly into the bridge itself.
Both decks of the bridge were instantly holed to deep space, killing the command crew of the Terror.
Republic Seventh Fleet
Bridge of the Freedom
Rear of the Forward Line of Engagement
0534 Local System Time
She heard them cheer and whoop. Admiral Landoo took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate on the tactical displays, seeking to maximize the advantage she’d just been handed.
They’d actually managed to wound one of the battleships.
“Tactical! What’s she look like?”
The tactical assessment officer stepped away from his station to report. He accessed the holographic display the admiral was looking at and pointed toward the ghostly image of the ship they’d damaged. “We managed to knock out their deflector power. We estimate they won’t be able to easily restore this unless they’ve got some kind of advanced backup system that no navy we know of has implemented. In other words… this ship is now vulnerable to direct fire. Some of our fighters smashed into the superstructure, and though we don’t have a good picture of what damage that caused exactly, we do know the ship is vulnerable. Now is our chance, if we’re going to take one, Admiral.”
Admiral Landoo studied the glowing formations on the ethereal board. Admiral Nagu had crept forward with the Seventh's destroyer group, following the first fighter wave at a distance. Just beyond that the three massive battleships were holding course. Coming for the carrier group, no doubt, and apparently intending to cut straight through the destroyer group to do so.
“How long until Nagu is in gunnery range?”
“Five minutes, Admiral.”
Silence.
Everyone on the bridge held their breath.
The admiral straightened and took in her bridge crew. They were all so young. So unready for this battle. A battle that had never been dreamed of in all her years of Repub Navy War College.
The brushfire conflict had always been the scenario.
Overwhelming odds to put down local upstart navies.
Or pirates.
Or raiders.
Even smugglers.
And yet, she thought to herself, these are the cards you’ve been dealt.
So play them now.
Black Fleet
Bridge of the Imperator
0535 Local System Time
“Damage report for Terror.”
Admiral Rommal was still waiting. Everyone across the massive two-storied bridge of the Imperator was scrambling to compile reports—everyone but those who had stopped to stare, unable to pull themselves away from the visual spectacle of the damaged Terror beyond the bridge windows. Comm traffic was all around the admiral, like a thousand buzzing insects competing to be overheard.
Rommal walked to the port windows that looked out onto the Terror. Half the ship had lost power, and there was a fire in the command structure. And all around them, the battle continued.
He controlled himself.
An officer controls himself, he whispered in his mind.
In the Republic Navy, appointed officers acted like minor royalty. Not so here. Not on Rommal’s watch. His staff and crew were doing their best with what they had to work with in the whirlwind of battle. People, his people, were dead and dying over there on the Terror.
Give them time, he reminded himself.
And then there was Goth Sullus.
You did not want to fail… him. Whatever he was. You didn’t want that.
And yet this is a battle. And failures are planned for in a battle, because they are so often so much a part of it. In battle, people and equipment get destroyed and plans go horribly awry.
The admiral ran through his own tactical decisions. Was there anything he’d done that had caused the Terror to take what was shaping up to be three direct hits to the command structure?
Nothing. And yet …
“Admiral.” It was the CIC. “Looks bad, sir. Terror’s lost her external deflector power grid.”
Rommal winced at that.