A King Word And a Gun

by Yuri Hamaganov

  The Bolshevik’s firing range has been carefully chosen. Here, 130 kilometers from the border, the cruiser isn’t afraid of torpedoes and lasers from the garbage asteroids; there are no minefields, and nothing here prevents active maneuvers.

  On the other hand, the Citadel is still too far away, and this distance doesn’t allow Boddiker’s artillerymen to effectively use their heavy cannons. The cruiser has time to leave the line of fire. True, firing on the Citadel from such a distance won’t cause any significant damage, but now they won’t have to fight the space fortress. They will fight escort ships, which travel towards the old enemy, intending to use their overwhelming numerical advantage.

  “Fire!”

  They start shooting from a distance. The Bolshevik jumps into the void on a complex broken path with a lot of deceptive throws and false movements. The pirate squadrons smoothly maneuver, fully taking advantage of the crossfire. Severov operates with single shots, carefully choosing the target, and the pirates don’t intend to save ammunition. They strike with volleys, throwing hundreds of shells per second, knowing that the stock of shots in the cruiser’s charging cellars isn’t infinite and there is nowhere to replenish their ammunition.

  The minds of Olga and Anastasia actually merge, like the two hemispheres of one brain, each of which is responsible for its specific work. They must blind the enemy and at the same time save their own sight, so as to catch the pirates in their sights before they catch the Bolshevik. Olga’s task is complicated by the fact that she needs to cover not only her ship but also the assault boats hiding on the cavern’s border. And all this must be done while defending the Bolshevik under continuous enemy fire.

  The distance gradually decreases; the pirate squadrons move slowly, gradually seizing the Bolshevik with pliers. There are no more frontal attacks: the attackers have a clear order to protect the ships, and they want to completely play their trump card of numerical advantage. The enemy’s tactic of methodical pressure and constant shelling is bearing fruit; the shells are exploding ever closer, already causing damage with fragments, not yet significant but still forcing the Bolsheviks to focus a part of their forces on emergency repairs. Their own successes aren’t great—one destroyed guard ship, and one damaged destroyer, which was immediately dragged to the rear and replaced with a new ship. It’s time to put their main trump card on the table.

  “Charge with magnums!”

  The code signal: all four marshals of the Soviet Union are charged with nuclear projectiles. Twins are ready immediately recharging the guns with ordinary high explosives. Olga muffles Buran for a moment, so as not to interfere with Anastasia and Severov while they aim accurately.

  “Fire!”

  The nuclear shots go into the center of the enemy's position, followed immediately by a second strike with conventional shells at the same coordinates. Granddad gives more energy to the second volley, and the second series of shells flies faster, overtaking the nuclear projectiles. Olga protects the special shots but doesn’t mask conventional shells; they should be noticed.

  Have noticed the approaching shells, the squadrons open a dense barrier fire, meeting the approaching wave of high explosives. A series of short flashes testifies to the contact of the laser lash. The first wave has been destroyed. The squadron launches a new volley, but the flashes of their guns die out in a nuclear fire. Of the four special projectiles, three reach their targets, exploding in the center of the enemy’s position. They have the maximum effect: two destroyers and a guard ship disappear in a triple nuclear flash, and four more ships are seriously damaged by radiation, which burns their electronics. A clear enemy position has been destroyed, and the Bolshevik jerks ahead at full speed, wresting away from the mites prepared for him. The pirate squadron loses control for a short time. A flagship has been destroyed, and the enemy’s fire is dispersed, which allows the Bolshevik to successfully advance to a new firing range. The battle continues.

  They receive a short code message—the boarding team has successfully reached the target and has started their work; the Bolshevik must hold out for another half an hour. Okay, we’ll die, but the Navy won’t be disgraced, Olga thinks, repelling another torpedo attack with hard radiation.

  The battle is changing; faced with an unexpected and terrible nuclear attack, the pirates are changing their strategy. They obviously didn’t count on the cruiser possessing such an arsenal; for a private warship, each special shell is priceless. But the Bolshevik sent four nuclear shots at once and obviously isn’t going to stop there but will continue the fight. It’s very risky to attack such a bear with pitchforks when it’s not known how much more nuclear death lurks in his arsenal.

  The methodical offensive reduces its tempo; the squadrons are divided into links and deuces, no longer in a dense formation, vulnerable for a nuclear strike. The fire on the Bolshevik is growing; the pirates are shooting haphazardly, not caring about their accuracy—let the cruiser maneuver, burning fuel. The destroyers are in no hurry to rush into a fight, and the cruisers are still hanging somewhere behind, firing at maximum range, but the torpedoes and unmanned fighters are rolling in waves, one by one.

  The assembly plants near the Citadel continue their work, and each new torpedo, thrown out of the torpedo tube, immediately leaves for the cruiser, along with dozens and hundreds of others. Let the Bolshevik constantly maneuver, so it won’t have time to counter-attack. The guns will become inaccurate, and the attackers will have the opportunity to strike the cruiser from the rear and the flanks. Here they are, the interceptor squadrons, cruising along the borders of the cavern, patiently waiting for the opportunity to rush into the attack and hit the cruiser in the back.

  “Charge with magnums!”

  This time, the cruiser won’t wait for the enemy—it rushes forwards, attacking the northern flank of the pirates with nuclear shots.

  There is an instant maximum overload, and Olga’s body for a short time weights sixteen tons. The bulkheads are groaning; the main hull is deformed in many places, but the ship keeps the load as expected, and the engines drive it forward. There is a nearby explosion on the starboard side, a short burst of lasers, and three dozen new holes; one of the four main busses is out of order, and there are numerous closures for emergency repairs. Another maneuver, a volley of nuclear projectiles, then they are again reloaded with high explosives. The battle continues, radiation striking, punching the way for the nuclear-caused death.

  “Direct hit!”

  This time, the pirates are ready for the nuclear strike. All the conventional shells are shot down, two nuclear projectiles are burned by lasers before reaching the line of guaranteed defeat, but two more find their targets, creating devastation and death at the enemy position.

  The Bolshevik again bursts into the void to immediately continue the battle; the enemy fire doesn’t subside for a second. Continuing to actively maneuver, Tokarev finds a temporary shelter behind the hull of a broken truck, a ten-second pause to put themselves in order.

  The situation is very serious; everyone is aware of this. Constantly operating at maximum speed, the engines begin to overheat. The reactor rapidly burns fuel and also threatens to overheat; numerous shrapnel hits have led to a lot of failures and breakdowns, and the charging cellars quickly become empty. And yet, the battle continues. The cruiser is still able to withstand hundreds of enemies, not only defending but also making crushing retaliatory strikes.

  “Fall back!”

  The cruiser bounces off a broken truck a second before its skeleton disappears in a burst of a nuclear explosion—the heavy cannons of the Citadel hit from the maximum distance. A moment of blindness costs them a dozen more holes; the repair machines can’t cope.

  “Another five minutes; we must hold the fairway!”

  Gradually pushed by their enemies, the Bolshevik returns to the starting point: the neck of the fairway, where the tugboat died. The chronometers are counting down. Olga is quietly aware of the fact that their change of surviving to th
e end of those five minutes is slim. There is no time for sentiment; it’s time to rush to attack. The Marshals are again loaded with nuclear shots.

  This time, the Bolsheviks are aiming at the center of the enemy squadron, where the pirate cruiser, which has come to the firing line for the first time, is fighting. Conventional ammunition is thrown aside; the duelists switch to nuclear projectiles, firing at least a dozen special shots at each other. Olga joins in a deadly battle against enemy operators, hitting them with radiation and feeling how the cells of her own brain are burned off by retaliatory strikes. Keeping a blow at all costs, shielding her ship, even at the cost of her life, but to allow the Commander to make an aim shot.

  There is a flash—the enemy cruiser breaks in two. Evasive maneuvers are followed by a strong explosion somewhere to the right of her armored coffin. The heavy run of the cruiser immediately changes its rhythm. One of the four engines has exploded, and only the incredible skill of Granddad rescues the ship’s entire propulsion system and reactor from detonation.

  Their speed drops noticeably; the cruiser is poorly listening to the rudders and barely has time to leave the minefield, exchanging a series of laser shots with an enemy destroyer. Olga, along with the other engineers, is doing everything in her power to help the heavily damaged ship survive a little longer, while Chernova is conducting an emergency operation on her brain, saving the Sergeant from the wounds received in battle. The girl feels how the surgeon’s nano-manipulators move in her head, urgently replacing burned-out areas of both hemispheres with new ones, trying to keep the operator’s brain from overloading and short-circuiting.

  “Olga, now is not the time to die. We still need you, so come on. Use the Buran properly. I don’t like all these shells around!”

  Emergency resuscitation allows Olga to survive, and not only to survive but also to continue the fight. The chronometer counts down the last seconds; they won’t last any longer.

  “Hold on, comrades, the Red Army is entering the city!”

  There is a series of nuclear explosions at the border, near the closed neck of the fairway. The enemy’s fire noticeably subsides; the pirate squadrons are urgently changing the battle order—new fighters have entered the ring, and now the fight will be equal.

  The Red Dawn squadron breaks into the cavern through the fairway, following the beacons left by Olga. The detachment of warships and transports paves the way with minesweepers while destroyers fight off the pirates’ guard. And despite all the tricks, despite the guiding beacons and minesweepers, the breakthrough wasn’t easy and bloodless; the Red Dawn squadron left on this road two ships that were destroyed along with their crews and three broken transport vehicles. The remaining ships also suffered damage, breaking through the neck only thanks to Andrei’s boarding team.

  The Bolshevik fought on its own against fifty for the successful flight of those assault boats. The landing party reached the cavern’s border unnoticed, crept through minefields and garbage reefs, and captured a powerful outpost at the fairway's neck while its garrison was captivated by the torpedo volleys thrown at the Bolshevik. And now, as a reward for their military work, the Bolsheviks will no longer fight alone—in their detachment, there are now twelve warships, plus supply transports. Now they can only defend themselves but also attack.

  The Red Dawn destroyers are lining up in a spherical pattern, covering the cruiser. The Bolshevik will become the flagship of the squadron, but now this flagship is damaged and urgently needs refueling and recharging.

  “We have two minutes!”

  Covered by destroyers, the damaged cruiser approaches the universal supply ship John Wayne. Docking locks slam, and the thrust drops to zero, allowing the John Wayne to launch onto the Bolshevik repair machines that hastily patched the hull. While the engineers repair the overheated engines and restore the reactors protection and Olga stitches the broken central bus, Lieutenant Domcheev hastily accepts the shells; they need to load the arsenal and take the fuel.

  “Sixty seconds!”

  The destroyed fourth engine is thrown overboard; temporary patches tighten the holes, the third central bus restores the transmitting capacity, the loading of the ammunition is at seventy percent, and the fuel loading is at ninety.

  “We have a breakthrough at seven hours!”

  Striving to prevent the repair of the damaged cruiser at all costs, the pirates let two squadrons of the guards launch a suicidal attack through the center of the sphere. The dashing attack is supported by massive artillery fire and flocks of torpedoes. The guard ships rush forward despite huge losses, concentrating all the fire on the two docked ships.

  “Cut the moorings!”

  Without finishing their repairs and stock replenishment, the Bolshevik drops the docking mast. The two ships bounce off each other, but the transport has no time to leave the fire line, having received three direct hits. The reciprocal fire of the cruiser knocks down the last guards; the battle formation is restored.

  “Remove the crew; we are leaving!”

  The approaching boat takes the surviving sailors of the John Wayne and immediately departs, leaving behind the burning ship.

  “Full speed ahead, battle order M!”

  The flagship is in place, and the squadron rushes at the enemy. Taking over the control of all the guns for all the ships, Severov shoots hundreds of shells on the pirates, completing the attack with another nuclear strike.

  The enemy line collapses; breaking through the pirate formation, the Bolshevik’s squadron escapes into the center of the cavern, losing one destroyer. Again, emptiness: the enemy ships remain far behind, and the squadron goes ahead right to the Citadel.

  “Illuminating shells—fire!”

  For a brief moment, the fierce battle is interrupted, as if in the center of a storm, and at that moment, far ahead, the illuminating shells explode. The brightest flashes of billions of candles flood the entire cavern with white fire, finally making the ruler of this space visible. All this time, the presence of the Citadel was only reminiscent of mass detectors and radars, but now the Bolsheviks have the opportunity to see the Citadel with their own eyes, something no one has ever seen before.

  There it is, right on the course, a cyclopean construction in the gravitational center of the Tartar cluster, a single mechanism of three dozen huge spheres and cylinders, reminiscent of an ancient hand grenade. And this grenade explodes in their face with the salvoes of hundreds of heavy cannons. The cyclone’s eyes close, and the storm again roars.

  “Split up!”

  The squadron is divided into two links, left and right. The right, main link reduces its speed and sharply turns aside; the transports, covered by six destroyers, continue the fight against the guards.

  The left, the assault link, on the contrary, spurs the horses—the Bolshevik, along with three destroyers, attacks the Citadel itself. Deprived of the need to cover slow-moving transports, the warships show everything their engines and crews are capable of, attacking the stronghold with fury.

  “Cover me; I'll attack!”

  Having completed a series of fraudulent bends, the destroyers open fire on the Citadel from all guns. A second later, Bolshevik shoots with nuclear projectiles. They implement evasive maneuvers; enemy shells are already flying towards them, tearing through the void with nuclear fires—Boddiker’s gunners don’t spare special ammunition. The wall of defensive fire meets the Bolshevik’s shots, but the mass of the Citadel and its radar echo are so great that they interfere with their own antiaircraft guns, and some of the projectiles manage to break through.

  Olga, leading a desperate battle against the Citadel operators, counts the seconds of the nuclear shots’ flight. The first one is burnt by the laser, the second loses control and heads off into the void, the third blows up a giant shield of pressed debris, but the fourth projectile is lucky to slip through. A short pause and here it is, a flash of white flame in the center of the enemy fortress. One of the outlying spheres is completely destroyed by a di
rect hit.

  “Get it and sign it!”

  “Cruiser, azimuth 310, angle 15!”

  One of the enemy cruisers attacks them on a collision course, under the cover of the Citadel’s guns.

  “Full steam ahead, azimuth 0, angle 0!”

  Striving to deprive the enemy cruiser of its advantages, the assault link rapidly shortens the distance; the Citadel artillerymen are forced to cease fire to avoid hitting their own ship.

  “Azimuth 0, angle 2, correction 4! Fire!”

  Attacking the enemy with four ships, the assault link shoots the cruiser, fully realizing the advantage in artillery. The pirates don’t remain in debt, and despite the deadly wounds inflicted on their ship, they are able to shoot down one of the destroyers. The Bolshevik has no chance to pick up its crew.

  “Turn left, we return to the Citadel!”

  Having skirted the broken cruiser, the assault link once again attacks the Citadel. They exit to the firing line, volley, and turn again. This time, despite all Olga’s efforts, she can’t hide their projectiles. Three nuclear shots are shot down, the fourth one destroys another garbage shield, and large holes have formed in the walls of the fortress.

  “Stop work; we are leaving the battle!”

  The assault link bounces off the Citadel, returning to the main squadron, where the destroyers continue to repel enemy attacks on the transport vehicles. The appearance of the Bolshevik breaks the course of the battle—after receiving a nuclear strike in the flank, the enemy cruisers retreat, losing one ship. The squadron regroups; the transports are lined up, aiming for holes in the Citadel’s defensive system.

  “Reset!”

  Transports drop their cargo, and to the Citadel rush tens of thousands of heavy guided bombs, aiming for the holes in the garbage walls. Taking advantage of this moment, the assault link repeats the attack: the main caliber is again loaded with nuclear shots.