by Evan Currie
“Alright. Keep it up. I want this system mapped as quickly as we can manage with passives,” Druel said.
“Yes Captain.”
Pol took a step back, leaning over slightly. “I am not seeing any anomalies here, Captain. It looks precisely as expected.”
“The jammer is enough of an anomaly for me, Poi,” Druel said firmly. “We track it down, we will know what happened, but I don’t think there’s much question anyway. We have only recorded this sort of jamming once before.”
“Yes Captain.”
Until the Terran’s Odysseus Task Force had encountered it in another Priminae system, the sort of jamming they were looking at had been thought impossible. The power required to totally disrupt FTL communications was rather extreme, so he had little doubt that it was from the same source.
Empire.
The word didn’t really exist in modern Priminae. One had to dig back into positively ancient language variants in order to find it.
Druel had done just that when the Terran report had been presented to him, and the definition of the word had disgusted him. The idea of a body politic that ruled by force of arms and, worse, expanded to impose its will on others?
Vile.
Worse than the Drasin. Those beasts were all instinct, no reason. They were nothing more, or less, than a force of nature, no matter their origin. These . . . Imperials . . . were rational, thinking beings. They had no excuses for their actions, no reason that he would accept. They were simply vile, in word and deed.
His thoughts were interrupted by his second in command calling his attention to the board.
“Captain, the Tetanna is leaving orbit.”
Druel looked up sharply. “Did they spot something? Can we determine what?”
“I do not think they have located anything new.” His second shook his head. “Their departure is unhurried, and they appear to be aiming for one of the system’s null-gravity points.”
Druel looked at the telemetry they were still decoding and scowled in thought. The null-gravity points in a star system were areas the interaction of all the major masses within the system reduced gravity to near zero. There were generally dozens of relatively stable ones, even in a small system, and hundreds or even thousands of more marginal points.
“They must be intending to update their charts,” he decided, sighing deeply.
“Yes Captain.”
“I wish we were here in time to catch their pulse,” he said glumly.
Unfortunately, though they were watching the starship move into position to fire off said pulse, Druel was well aware that the FTL echoes of the pulse would have long since faded. They would not be gaining any details from that source, sadly.
The bridge crew watched as the Tetanna slipped into position at one of the more stable null points close to the planet and, presumably, sent out an FTL detection pulse. What they detected from it, Druel could only speculate at this point, but the sudden shift of the ship’s armor and shields to combat status and sharp acceleration told the story well enough.
“Find what they saw. Find it now!” he ordered across the bridge.
“Yes sir!”
► “Enemy destroyers entering extreme engagement range, Captain.”
Drey nodded at Hela’s warning, having expected it for the last few moments.
“Initiate evasive maneuvering,” he ordered, grimacing.
Any evasive maneuvers they could take would, to some degree, increase their time in the enemy’s engagement envelope since they were already on a least-time evasion course. If they tried to remain on that straight-line course, however, they would massively increase the effectiveness of the enemy’s firing opportunities, so it was really just a matter of which would be more dangerous to the Tetanna.
Since there were nineteen enemy destroyers almost certainly firing even as he considered them, staying still simply wasn’t an option. If they realized what he was doing and bracketed him all together, not even the Tetanna’s armor would allow her to survive the onslaught.
He looked at the range to target, mentally tallied the time they had before the first of the enemy lasers would intersect their general position, and started counting down in his mind.
Five . . . four . . . three . . .
“Brace for impact,” he ordered, gripping his station firmly, though it was probably pointless.
There was no impact, exactly, but a distant rumble could be felt through the deck. A quiet alarm sounded.
“Laser burn through the port side armor, aft,” his damage control officer announced. “Breach is sealing; teams responding.”
“Did we get a frequency on the pulse?” Drey asked Hela tersely.
“Yes sir.”
“Adapt our armor to match,” he ordered. “Maintain course and speed.”
“Evasive maneuvers?” she asked, shooting him a glance even as she directed the orders through the station.
He shook his head. “No. We have a read on the one that hit us. If they’re running a zone firing program, we might get lucky and spent a few seconds getting hit just by him before anyone else realizes we’re not dodging anymore. Get the armor adjusted and hold us steady.”
“Yes Captain.”
► Navarch Misrem eyed the displays with a feral, hungry look.
Her destroyer screen would be her blaster this time rather than her armor, but she would savor what she could from the encounter all the same.
“Destroyers have bracketed the region the enemy ship can maneuver in,” her aide said softly at her side. “The first barrage should have struck by now. We will detect the results in a few more seconds, Navarch.”
“Good. Pass my compliments to the captains for their crew,” she commanded, “and ensure that they continue firing. I would rather see them burn out their cannons than stop before we are sure the enemy is either dead or beyond our reach.”
“At your command, Navarch.”
She straightened from the screens and looked at the command personnel for a brief moment. They were all focused on their own tasks, none looking up as her eyes flitted by.
Combat at these extreme ranges was one of the most stressful parts of any commander’s or command staff’s duty. Mistakes here would have very real consequences, but the time delay tended to make people complacent and more likely to make those mistakes than normal. It was easy to forget that you were dealing with the possibility of a boiling, freezing death when it was encapsulated by the sheer size of the void.
She saw no sign that any of her people were getting too comfortable, so she said nothing before turning her focus back to the battle as it slowly played out.
“First hit, Navarch. We have drawn air from their hull.”
She nodded, satisfied. So far, it was going to plan. “Press the assault.”
► The Tetanna was accelerating for safety at her best military speed, having shrugged off three more direct hits from the same destroyer since the first, her adaptive armor easily deflecting the powerful blasts of energy thanks to the technology acquired from the Terrans.
Drey was sweating each strike as it came in, trying to determine the timing. Figuring out when the enemy was going to adapt to his tactic—or more specifically, lack of same—would be the key to their success or failure here. A lucky strike from lasers might damage the Tetanna enough to slow their escape, allowing the cruisers to catch up.
“Evasive maneuvers,” he ordered, hating it as he did because the shift in course and speed would extend their engagement time.
“Shifting course,” the helm officer responded instantly. The Tetanna shifted in a random direction and decreased acceleration to further throw off the enemy’s targeting.
Drey curled his lip as he noted that the maneuver had extended their engagement time by almost thirty full minutes.
Computer-aided systems traced laser fire around them, using fluorescing bits of matter in space as the primary method of tracking the beams. He watched beam after beam from the enemy ship pa
ss through their previous space and shook his head in disgust.
Too soon. I overestimated them. Damn it.
A shiver through the ship had him cursing even more as he recognized the damage alarm going up.
“Glancing blow, starboard armor,” damage control reported. “No breach. No breach.”
“Full military acceleration,” Drey ordered. “Least time for the system border.”
“Yes Captain. Full military acceleration, least-time course.”
The Tetanna leapt once more to full power, lasers cutting space into sections around them as they surged away from the pursuers.
► “There, what is that?” Misrem hissed, glowering at the screens.
“That appears to be a refraction signature of one of our lasers,” her aide admitted, frowning.
“I know that.” She scowled at him. “I mean, how are they doing it? They are being struck time and again, but other than the first blow, that ship is just taking everything we can throw at it.”
She slammed a fist down into the arm of her console, then stood up.
“Okay, they have something we are not accounting for.” She took a breath, considering the dilemma. “At this range, our lasers aren’t attenuated enough for normal armor to repulse them like that. The issue is time, not power, so a strike should be as good as any.”
She paused, turning to glare back at the screens for a moment. “Captain!”
“Navarch?” The captain of her flagship half turned from where he was coordinating the ships’ efforts in the fight.
“You are still operating a zone offense coverage, correct?” she asked, though if the answer was anything but in the affirmative, she would be shocked.
“Of course, as ordered.”
Misrem looked away from him for a moment, muttering to herself. “That strange armor of theirs, we need to capture a sample. I think I know what is going on. Captain, new orders for the destroyers.”
“Yes Navarch?”
“Maintain zone offense coverage, but I want no less than three destroyers assigned to the same spacial sector.”
The captain looked appalled. “Navarch, that will degrade our strike probability by well over threefold—”
“I am aware of that. The orders stand,” she said flatly. “Issue them.”
He stared for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes Navarch.”
Misrem turned her focus back to the screens. Now, let us see if I am right about you.
► “There!”
Druel turned, his gaze following the gesture his second was making.
Onscreen, the Zeu’s computers showed that they had finally located the enemy. He swore as he saw the numbers.
“It is a war squadron,” he muttered with both disgust and some measure of fear.
His own squadron was well outmanned, and while he had confidence that they were more than a match for the enemy ships ton for ton, the enemy had a lot more tonnage to play with. That would not work well, but he didn’t see many options.
“Continue to focus our computers on their locations,” he ordered the scanner station before turning and continuing without pause. “Navigation, I want an intercept course readied as soon as we have sufficient telemetry data to predict their maneuvers.”
“Yes Captain,” both stations echoed.
Druel turned back to his second in command. “They are moving in system. That means they are going on the offensive. The only question is whether they went for the planet or the Tetanna. We are not allowing them to do either, if it is within our power.”
“Understood, Captain.” She nodded, hesitating. “They significantly outnumber us, Captain. That will reduce the effectiveness of the Terran armor design.”
“I know, but I see little option at this point. We will do this,” he said firmly. “We have to.”
► The Tetanna shuddered as strikes came in, most glancing off the adjusted armor but more every passing minute digging deep and coring into the interior of the big ship. Drey grimaced with every report coming back from the damage control teams, men and women who were rushing into the affected decks and trying their best to repair any critical systems the beams had torn up.
They were now on a least-time course with full military power, trying to get out of enemy range, but Drey could see that his ship would have to endure several minutes more of the barrage before they were free.
With the enemy now knowing their course, he had a very difficult decision to make: evasive maneuvers or run for the heliopause without looking back.
Drey snarled when another shudder could be felt through the deck.
“Hold course,” he ordered. “Hela, get someone from the reactor core on the comm screen. We need everything they can give us.”
“Yes Captain.”
He leaned forward at his station, eyes boring into the holographic display of the combat zone. The enemy cruisers were still well out of range; only the smaller and apparently faster ships were able to keep up with the Tetanna’s initial speed advantage. Even that would only hold just so long, but there was enough of the enemy to make it difficult, possibly even fatal, for his ship and crew before they could pull clear.
All combat in space was reduced to relatively simple mathematical calculations. The inherent limitations of speed, distance, and inertia—even for vessels with inertial compensation—decided the outcome of most battles before the first laser left its source ship. Uncertainties were a human factor, the unexpected things that people might do in moments of brilliance or stupidity.
Drey just hoped that the brilliance would be on his side and the stupidity on the enemy’s.
The likelihood of that, of course, was something he preferred not to delve deeply into.
► “Another hit, Navarch. We are scanning venting atmosphere,” her aide said without turning around.
Misrem nodded, satisfied that she had been correct. “Are we still registering the ineffective strikes?”
“Yes . . . ,” the aide said hesitantly.
“Run an analysis against the estimated strike times of each ship,” she said. “I want to know which of our vessels fired the ineffective beams.”
“Uh . . .” Her aide looked confused, but there was really only one possible answer. “Right away, Navarch.”
Misrem looked on serenely as she settled back.
At this point, she was confirming what she already knew. Somehow, the enemy armor was able to perfectly adapt to a specific beam frequency. Potent armor indeed, but even the finest Imperial manufacturing had to eliminate variance in the beam generators, so while they all ran within a narrow band, none were identical.
It is still very impressive, she thought grudgingly. Without it, I expect we would already have cut out their singularity cores and left them adrift, or worse.
Indeed, even the beams that were penetrating were obviously not doing as much damage as they should, and that was stretching the battle out beyond all reason. Since time favored the enemy in this encounter, Misrem was doing everything she could not to show her frustration. Losing her temper in a fight they were clearly dominating would not go over well with the crew. It was one thing to be angry at a loss, but to be furious during even a weak victory would make her look unstable to the rank and file.
That was not acceptable in the slightest.
A computer tone caused her aide to look down. From the surprise in his posture, Misrem didn’t have to ask what he’d seen.
“The ineffective shots all belonged to the same vessel, did they not?” she asked, just a little smugly.
“Uh, yes Navarch. How—”
“Don’t concern yourself,” Misrem said casually, entering an observation in her log as well as suggestions for new standard combat procedures to be registered with the Empire when they returned. “All ships continue as ordered.”
“As you command, Navarch.”
► Druel’s lips curled back, revealing his teeth as he watched the telemetry data showing the opening stages of the fight.
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br /> They went straight for the planet, leaving the Tetanna no choice but to engage, at least partially.
He didn’t know the captain of the Tetanna personally, but he had a fine reputation and was dedicated to the well-being of the Colonies. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been given the Tetanna to command. That there was nothing he could do to save the colony would not have impacted his inevitable decision; Druel could tell from the vectors involved that the man had determined to strike and fade rather than make a suicide run or flee altogether.
The infamous Captain Weston’s influence shows its way through, Druel supposed. There was a time when the options considered would have been run for reinforcements or stand and die.
“Helm,” Druel called as he crunched the contact numbers and determined that they would likely have just enough time to intervene, as long as they didn’t waste any of what was available.
“Yes Captain?”
“I want a reciprocal course, best time to intercept the lead elements of the enemy formation,” he ordered. “Bring us in across the Tetanna’s course at a perpendicular angle.”
“Yes Captain. I will have the course in just a moment.”
“Send it to the squadron and engage with full military power as soon as possible,” he said firmly.
“Yes Captain.”
Orders issued, Druel watched the situation develop on the displays around him.
It would be an interesting encounter, he decided. He watched the telemetry feeds rapidly filling in details as his ships proceeded quickly into the system, continuing to gather information as quickly as light could reach their scanners.
The Tetanna was now making for a standard system exit vector, putting the ship on a converging course with the Zeu’s task force. Not exactly luck, as the chosen vector would also put the ship on course for the nearest central Priminae colony, which was precisely where the Zeu and accompanying vessels had come from, but certainly fortunate enough.
With the Tetanna between them, Druel’s small task group and the enemy ships were now bearing down on one another. If all was as he devoutly hoped, the enemy was too focused on the Tetanna to realize it.