Although they did score a few nasty hits, his thoughts added. And one or two more will be the end of us.
“Drones deployed, Captain,” Callaway said. He paused. “I’m picking up more starships decloaking near the planet.”
“Someone must be feeling antsy,” Biscoe commented.
Elton shrugged. “Stand by to bring the drones online,” he ordered. “Stand by ...”
The moment came. “Now!”
He leaned forward as the drones came online. The enemy saw - had to see, if the plan had any chance of working - a dozen starships, each one an exact copy of Odyssey. And they were all ramping up their drives, charging madly at the nearest battlestations. The Tokomak had designed the fortresses to soak up damage, but none of them could stand up to an 800-metre-long starship moving at even a tiny percentage of the speed of light. Just for a few seconds, they’d panic; each fortress would be thrown back on its own defences ...
“Launch Hammers,” he ordered. Technically, he was breaking regulations by deploying them so close to an enemy sensor network, but ... under the circumstances, it was just another charge for his court-martial. “And take us in after them.”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said.
Elton prayed, silently, as the missiles roared away from Odyssey, straight towards Target Nine. The giant battlestation was right in their path, perfectly positioned to engage them with its energy weapons as they passed. But ... did the Harmonies know about Hammers? The Tokomak had seen them in action, back during the Battle of Earth ... had they told the Harmonies? A secret weapon that could smash through their battleships as if they were made of paper ...
And one that could be countered, if they knew what they were facing, he thought. Now ...
“They’re trying to engage with point defence,” Callaway said. There was an undertone of cold delight in his voice. “Useless.”
Elton nodded. They were - literally - firing into a black hole. They wouldn't stop the Hammers like that ...
The first Hammer slammed into the fortress’s shields, punched through and smashed into the hull. The second followed, a moment later. Elton braced himself - the fortresses were designed to soak up a lot of damage - then pretended not to hear the cheers that echoed around the bridge as the fortress exploded. The two Hammers died a moment later, caught in the blast. Target Nine had been vaporised.
He let out a breath. “Take us through,” he ordered. “And ramp up the drives as much as you can.”
“Aye, Captain,” Marie said.
Chapter Twenty
So what?
Losing so many ships has to have hurt, even though - as you say - the total losses are a very tiny percentage of their overall numbers. You can bet anything you care to put forward that they will be pushing that interpretation as hard as they can. They’ll want their allies to believe that the Battle of Earth was nothing more than a stubbed toe. A panicky reaction will only undermine that narrative.
The fact that none of this will be actually true will not bother them.
-Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).
“I always wanted to fly through a fireball,” Biscoe commented.
“Remain focused,” Elton ordered. The fortress had been largely vaporised, but chunks of debris and clouds of space dust still posed a threat. “Tactical?”
“Enemy ships are moving to block our escape,” Callaway said. “The fortresses are resuming fire.”
Elton nodded, glumly, as the nearest fortress icons belched clouds of missiles towards Odyssey. His ship was fast, one of the fastest starships in known space, but she couldn't outrun Galactic-grade missiles. The Harmonies had clearly decided they could fire freely, now that there was no real danger of hitting the planet. He had to admit that they might well be right.
“Deploy drones to protect the freighters,” he ordered, shortly. Logically, the decloaking warships wouldn't be providing the fortresses with updated targeting information. Galactic tactical manuals warned of the dangers of trying anything so complicated outside a simulation chamber. But it was impossible to be sure. The Harmonies had to be getting desperate. “Helm?”
“We can drop into FTL now,” Marie reported. “But they might have a gravity well generator.”
“The freighters can't,” Biscoe added. “We need to get further from the planet.”
“Understood,” Elton said. Charging the enemy ships was insane, but he didn't see any other way to escape. Remaining within the planet’s gravity shadow would lead to certain destruction. Given just how badly matters had moved out of control, he had no doubt the Harmonies would do everything in their power to destroy his ship. “Helm, take us directly towards them.”
“Aye, sir,” Marie said.
Elton forced himself to think clearly as Odyssey picked up speed. There was no time to evacuate the remaining freighters ... in hindsight, he should have evacuated the entire convoy as soon as the embassy was attacked. If he’d yanked out the crews and destroyed the freighters, his ship could be in FTL by now. A mistake, one of many. He promised himself, silently, that he’d mourn the dead as soon as his ship was safe.
And we don’t know if they have gravity well technology, he reminded himself. We might drop into FTL only to be dragged back out a microsecond later.
He glanced at the live feed from the analysis deck, but saw nothing useful. It was frustrating as hell. The analysts were telling him countless details about the enemy defences, yet they couldn't answer any of the questions he needed answering. He bit down on his annoyance as he scanned the flagged messages, trying to determine if there were any hints. In theory, a standard stardrive could be turned into a gravity well generator, if the engineers knew what they were doing. In practice ...
We don’t know if they were told what happened during the Battle of Earth, he thought. They certainly weren’t prepared for Hammers.
“Captain,” Callaway said. “The fortresses are continuing to fire.”
“The drones are making hash of their targeting,” Biscoe said. “I’d hate to see the bill for this little skirmish.”
“It could cost us our lives,” Elton said. The first wave of missiles were entering Odyssey’s point defence zone, hundreds getting burned out of space every second. But there were always more ... the Harmonies probably wanted to overwhelm his defences. If they managed to keep up such a colossal weight of fire, and theoretically they could, they might just succeed. “I ...”
The ship rocked, sharply. “Two direct hits, rear shield quadrant,” Biscoe reported. “The shield held, barely.”
“Order the damage control teams to work on additional generators,” Elton said. Under the circumstances, keeping the ship reasonably intact was their top priority. “And warn engineering to be ready to repair the drive.”
“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.
Callaway cursed. “Enemy starships on attack vector,” he snapped. A stream of red icons were advancing towards Odyssey. “Captain?”
“Engage at will,” Elton said. He sucked in his breath as the icons grew closer. “Helm, prepare to take evasive action.”
“Aye, Captain,” Marie said.
Elton gritted his teeth as the enemy starships - they looked like destroyers - opened fire, their missiles roaring towards Odyssey as they closed to energy weapons range. Callaway returned fire, scoring five direct hits in quick succession. One destroyer exploded, another rolled to one side streaming plasma ... the remainder kept coming, their energy weapons lashing out at Odyssey. Marie altered course sharply, dodging one destroyer that had threatened to come far too close to the hull. Elton would have been surprised, normally, if the Galactics had resorted to kamikaze tactics, but they were definitely desperate. The destroyer was blown out of space a second later, before it could alter course and try again.
“They’re holding the heavier ships in reserve,” Biscoe said.
“We’ll enter their firing range in two minutes,” Callaway added. “They want us to run another gauntlet.
”
Elton nodded, feeling a flicker of contempt. The Harmonies had organised their fleet with all the precision of an armchair admiral. Their formation was perfect, utterly perfect. He doubted a single ship was even a few metres out of place. And yet, if they’d piled all of their ships into the engagement, they would have won by now. Odyssey was going to take a beating - more of a beating. But she hadn't lost.
Losing the fortress must have shocked them, he reminded himself. Two missiles took out a fortress that was designed to take one hell of a pounding.
He forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't afford to feel contemptuous, not when Odyssey was still in terrible danger. There was still enough firepower ahead of him to destroy his ship, if they weren't lucky. And while it was painfully obvious that the enemy commanders hadn't seen real action in their lifetimes, it didn’t mean that they hadn't run countless simulations over the last few decades.
Just because they haven’t seen action in centuries doesn't mean they’re useless, he told himself, as more icons flickered to life on the display. There’s certainly nothing wrong with their missiles.
“They’re spreading out,” Callaway reported. “Captain?”
Trying to make it harder for us to dodge, Elton thought. They should have done that earlier.
“Take us right through their formation,” he ordered. “Mr. Biscoe?”
“The freighters are on our tail,” Biscoe said. “Two of them have taken heavy damage, but their drives are still functional.”
Elton nodded. “Punch it!”
Odyssey picked up speed as she hurled herself into the teeth of the enemy formation, weapons blazing. The enemy returned fire, great battleships launching wave after wave of missiles towards the human ships. Elton couldn't help noticing that the shipboard missiles were actually less effective than the fortress-launched missiles, although there were enough of them that it probably wouldn't matter. Thankfully, the fortresses had slowed their rate of fire dramatically. Odyssey was still in range, but her decoy drones were soaking up all the missiles from the fortresses. They just couldn't get a solid lock on her hull.
“Recommend engaging with Hammers,” Biscoe said.
Elton hesitated. Odyssey didn't have many Hammers. The bureaucrats had been reluctant to issue any to his ship, pointing out that Odyssey wasn't an actual warship. Even for the Solar Union, Hammers were expensive. And yet ... Odyssey herself was far more expensive. It would be cheaper to replace a few dozen Hammers than the entire ship.
“Fire,” he ordered. “And rig the other missiles to provide cover.”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said. “Hammers launching ... now.”
Elton watched as his ship plunged into the teeth of enemy fire. Someone on the other side had been thinking, he noted. They’d activated all of their ECM systems, trying to disrupt or break Odyssey’s missile locks. False sensor images grew and multiplied ... they didn't last long, no more than a few seconds as Odyssey’s sensors burned through the ECM, but they made it harder to score hits. Elton would have sold his soul for an arsenal ship ...
And as long as I’m wishing, I’d like the entire Solar Navy, he thought, sardonically.
An enemy battleship, a five-kilometre-long engine of mass destruction, disintegrated into a ball of expanding plasma as a Hammer punched through its shields and into its hull. The Hammer itself was caught in the blast and destroyed, even though it should have been able to escape and find a second target. Two more enemy battleships were wiped out, moments before the remainder started firing their missiles to sweep the remaining Hammers out of space. Elton scowled, even though it kept the battleships from pouring their missiles towards Odyssey. It proved that someone on the other side was thinking too clearly.
He looked at Williams. “Can you locate the command ship?”
“I think so, Captain,” Williams said. A series of lines appeared on the display, centred on a blinking red icon. “The ship that appears to be issuing orders is that one.”
That proves nothing, Elton thought. The Galactics did normally fly in strict formation, with orders passed down from a central command ship, but any smart commander would know better than to broadcast his presence so obviously. And yet, if that is where the signals are going, we might just fuck up their command network if we took it out ...
“Tactical, target that ship,” he ordered. “Fire!”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said. “Firing ... now!”
Odyssey shook, again. “Four direct hits, forward shields,” Biscoe reported. “Shield Two is down; Shield Seven is destabilising!”
“Rotate shield generators to compensate,” Elton snapped. If Shield One failed too, there would be a gaping hole in his defences. The Harmonies would have an excellent chance to slip a missile through the gap and vaporise his ship. “Get teams on it!”
“Engineering reports that it will take at least ten minutes to recycle Shield Seven,” Biscoe said. “They’re requesting permission to reformulate the shield matrix!”
“Tell them they have five minutes,” Elton snapped back. Another shudder ran through the ship as an enemy destroyer pounded Odyssey with phaser fire. Callaway blasted her, a second later, but the damage had been done. “Hurry!”
He gritted his teeth. The enemy had had a fright, but they knew they were running out of time. They were bringing their battleships closer, slinging hundreds of missiles ... even using half of them to take out the human missiles wasn't helping, not at such close range. The only thing forcing them to stay back were the Hammers and he didn't have enough of them to make a difference.
“The enemy flagship has been hit,” Callaway reported. “But she’s still in the fight.”
“Keep firing,” Elton ordered, sharply. His ship rang like a bell. Red icons flashed up, once again. “Mr. XO?”
“They got a nuke through the shield gap,” Biscoe reported. “The hull took most of the blow, but we've lost a dozen phaser arrays and a couple of missile tubes.”
“Point defence has been reduced by thirty percent,” Callaway added. “Captain, they’re adjusting their fire to take advantage of it.”
Crap,” Elton thought. “Keep rotating the ship,” he ordered. “And keep hammering anything that you can hit!”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said. Odyssey jerked, again. “I ...”
The enemy flagship vanished. “Enemy target destroyed,” Callaway said. “They’ve lost their main command and control network.”
Elton nodded, grimly. It would take the enemy time - he had no idea how long - to adjust their datanet to compensate for the loss of the command ship. A human formation could do it in seconds, if necessary. But there were so many ships - and so many missiles - that it barely made any difference. The enemy could keep pounding his hull with or without the central command network.
Unless they're unwilling to do anything without orders, he thought. And they won’t be able to get orders until they work out who’s in charge.
He pushed the thought out of his head. It was insanely optimistic.
Odyssey rocked. “Two direct hits,” Biscoe said. “The hull in sector three is threatening to disintegrate.”
“Evacuate that section, seal all hatches,” Elton snapped. Sector three wasn't important, not compared to the stardrive or the bridge, but a gash in the hull would present the enemy with an irresistible target. And, in the long term, it would weaken the hull’s overall integrity. If the hull started to collapse, they were doomed. “Get those shields back up!”
“They’re working on it,” Biscoe said. “Captain, I ...”
“The enemy command network has rebooted,” Williams reported. “Captain, they’re scattering their signals. I can't determine which ship is the new flagship.”
Which they should have been doing all along, Elton thought. We might be able to pick out the new commander, but it will be slow going.
“Concentrate on jamming their signals as much as possible,” he ordered. One advantage of Odyssey being alone, save
for the six remaining freighters, was that he didn't have to worry about damaging his own tactical net. “If you do locate the new command ship, pass it to tactical.”
“Aye, sir,” Williams said.
“Got the shields back up,” Biscoe reported. A low tremble ran through the ship, followed by a thunderclap. “Just in time too.”
“Pass my compliments to the engineering and damage control staff,” Elton said.
He took a long breath as Odyssey raged towards the edge of the gravity shadow. They had to cross the line for the freighters to escape, but the enemy knew it too. The Harmonies had thrown all decorum out the airlock. They were firing so madly that there was a valid chance that their missiles might target their own ships.
The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4) Page 21