Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  BATTLE FOR KARNAK

  STAR CRUSADES: MERCENARIES

  By Michael G. Thomas

  Part of the STAR CRUSADES series

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2016 Michael G. Thomas

  Published by Swordworks Books

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  ANS Titan, Orbiting Aphax II Ice Field, Agriphos

  18 October 2472

  The engines flashed bright blue as the four hundred metre long warship crept silently around the barren moon. Her powerful engines operated on minimum power as they pushed the craft along, leaving a thin trail of broken ice behind it. Her dark hull gave the look of an ancient predatory shark. With no external lights showing, and her outer hull as cold as the ice around her, it was easy to slip away from visual scanners.

  The Alliance vessel was a Confederate Class assault carrier, the first of her design, and the sole friendly ship within a million kilometres. The class used the latest, and often untested technologies to create something unique in the Alliance fleet. She was as big and well armed as a heavy cruiser, but able to carry the same number of troops and shuttles as a fully-fledged transport. The new generation of ship, designed specifically for the reinvigorated Alliance moving to dominance in the region.

  Captain Delatorre watched nervously as they drifted closer and closer to one of the larger chunks of ice. The ship's multiple gun turrets swivelled slowly as the gunners checked and rechecked for signs of imminent danger in the dense, icy asteroid belt.

  "Take us through slowly. No sudden moves now, we have to stay dark."

  He held his breath as the passive sensors detected the closing gap, until they finally passed by at little more than twenty metres. So great was the size of the ice block it created a tiny, barely perceivable dent in space-time, enough that the interstellar drive could not be used without throwing the ship off course.

  We're through.

  The middle-aged Captain lifted his right hand to his forehead and wiped a few beads of perspiration from his brow.

  That was too close.

  "Adjust our course and take us closer to the thicker region of the field. We need to stay hidden. When they pass around Agriphos, I want us to look like nothing threatening. Every second we can buy will give us more time to respond. We need to shadow this horde for as long as possible."

  The engines pulsed again as the helmsman made subtle adjustments to their course through the orbiting asteroid field. Aphax II was one of the larger satellites and orbited the agricultural world of Agriphos. This old colony was sparsely settled, and all of its moons were dead lumps of rock. The planet still looked massive, even at a distance of almost a million kilometres away. There were no bases or stations anywhere near the moon, the only noticeable phenomena the unusually thick belt of ice that created a loose ring all around it.

  "How long until their cruisers are in range?" Captain Delatorre asked.

  Five-Seven, the Thegn officer nodded and then spoke in quick, guttural tones that barely sounded English. He was one of many artificially living soldiers created in the war, and though now granted free will, neither he nor his people had yet been granted full autonomy aboard a ship. It took a few more seconds before he placed a series of icons on the main forward screen.

  "The first cruiser class ship is five thousand kilometres away, with another three moving in to join them within the hour. Their signature puts them in a similar size class as a Liberty destroyer, and the radio chatter is using the standard encoding and frequency used by the Red Scars Clan. Configuration and capabilities are unknown...yet."

  Pulsing circles of blue light appeared around the icon of the enemy vessel. Two increased in size and then broke apart as the blue shapes struck the asteroids.

  "Their scanners are active..."

  A flurry of energy marked the approach of yet more pulses. Another alarm went off silently on the main screen. Five-Seven scrutinised the data before continuing.

  "...and they are clearly not concerned with being spotted. Wait..."

  He leaned forward to check again, before he swivelled about in his chair to look at the Alliance officer.

  "The first ship's signature has just altered. Instead of just one, I am reading signs of more smaller craft, and they are moving away from the main vessel."

  "Fighters?"

  "Yes," agreed Five-Seven, "They are separating into groups and using pulse radar scanners. They seem certain we are here, and they are looking for us."

  Captain Delatorre looked unconcerned.

  "Perhaps. They've sent ships to all the nearby moons, though, and there is no reason to suspect we would be hiding out here."

  Five-Seven shook his head.

  "The ice field. It's the best cover in the quadrant. They have no idea how many ships we have here. If you were going to hide a fleet, where would it be?"

  Captain Delatorre's eyes focused intently of the tactical overview of the area. Multiple coloured lines showed the potential travel vectors of various ships, and possible locations of unidentified objects. Using active and passive electronic warfare systems, it was getting much more difficult to locate, track, and identify threats at long distances.

  "You might be right, Five-Seven. Even so, there is a reason we split up the task force. Makos needs us to hold here as long as possible. We're here for intel, not to fight their war for them."

  He pointed to the view ahead.

  "These Anicinàbe have no idea we have split up. There could be three, fifty, or just one ship in this ice field. So let's make this is confusing and difficult for them as we can."

  The Captain looked back to his screens and checked the estimated path the ships would have to take through the ice field. It was the best hiding place in the area, and big enough to hide thousands of ships from their scanners.

  "Understood, Captain. We are the eyes and ears of the fleet."

  Captain Delatorre smiled inwardly as the artificial being said the words. Their role had been repeated so many times that Five-Seven had taken it on almost as a catchphrase.

  "Charge up the gunnery systems. I think we'll be needing them soon. Spool up the interstellar drive as well.

  "And the Jackals?

 
"No, keep everything on board. If this turns south, we must get out of here, and fast. Last thing we need is to get caught with our pants down. If it hits the fan, we must to be ready!"

  Five-Seven nodded politely, and though serious, he appeared far from concerned.

  It's times like this that you appreciate the screw-up in the power plant installation.

  As an experimental class, the ship had been built to use equipment never before tested on such a scale. The phased fusion unit was unique to this class, and a simple bookkeeping error meant the use of a system twice the necessary size and power. It was a modified and heavily up-rated version taken from CTC atmosphere terraforming machinery. With so much surplus power, it was possible to power large banks of particle weapons that would have drained a lesser ship. This still left enough for the engines and light speed drive.

  Five-Seven lifted his gaze a fraction, and Captain Delatorre knew right away something had changed. His eyes followed the alien creature, and at that moment, a single blinking light caught both of their eyes. The other Thegns reacted quickly, and Five-Seven wasted no time in hitting the battlestations command. The lights dimmed slightly as the red lights flicked on.

  "They've found us."

  More alarms triggered as the Anicinàbe scanners focussed their attention on the region of the ice field containing the Alliance warship. It would be a few more seconds before their equipment located the heat and electronic emissions that no ship could hide. Captain Delatorre rose from his chair and issued orders.

  "Activate jammers. All crews to battlestations. Ready yourselves for combat."

  He eyes turned to Five-Seven who was busy doing just the same.

  "Multiple warheads have been launched. Active radar systems detected. Range four point nine thousand kilometres, acceleration hitting two hundred gees."

  The Captain shook his head as he performed the mathematics in his head.

  Two hundred gees, five thousand...Seventy plus seconds and reaching one hundred and forty thousand metres per second.

  Even as he thought it, the numbers popped up from the gunnery analysis system. He was off by a few seconds, but the basic information was correct. All that time in the Academy allowed him to match the computer, and perhaps even beat it, but not by much.

  "I see. So, no warning, no diplomacy, only weapons fired; they will hit us in just over a minute."

  He rubbed his chin gently, while Five-Seven issued the final orders to prepare them for battle. It was an odd position to be in. They were rushing, but there was also more than enough time to prepare. This was a closer ranged battle than they would normally face due to the thick ice field, but conventional weapons were relatively slow, and that gave them the time needed to make critical decisions.

  "Defensive grid is active. I don't think they have a solid lock...yet."

  Another Thegn called out from his position to the right of the deck. His voice was slow enough that this time Captain Delatorre understood the alien perfectly. As he watched the speed and skill of the Thegns, he wondered why any ship would want any other kind of crewmember.

  They are something else, indeed.

  "Fifty seconds," said the tactical officer.

  Captain Delatorre pointed to the tactical map.

  "Activate engines, change our heading, and bring the starboard batteries online. If they want a fight, then by hell, we'll give it to them!"

  One by one, the Thegn officers ran through their procedures. The Confederate Class was heavily automated and used a mere handful of crew, whereas other Alliance ships might have hundreds, or even thousands on board. The majority of command operations could be performed from this one part of the ship, leaving the rest clear for additional troops and personnel.

  Lights blinked green as the offensive and defensive systems came online. Though most of the gunnery systems were now particle beam based, there were still large amounts of coilgun systems on board. Direct energy weapons were regarded as the future of ship-based guns, but they were very heavy on energy use, and useless in any atmospheric conditions. Coilguns provided simplicity and reliability, unmatched by other gunnery systems.

  "Give me an update on the sector. I need to know what else we're getting into here."

  Five-Seven remained calm as he examined the screens positions around his command chair. His officers were ready for battle, and now waiting for the inevitable tension of long-range missile attacks.

  "Anicinàbe vessels are still assembling over the planet. No more have arrived, but they are sending groups of ships to the other moons, not just this one."

  The tall, relatively thin shape of the Alliance officer moved away from his seat and towards the screens. They were angled and gave the impression of being little more than glass, like the bridge of an old naval-based ship.

  "So, they are consolidating their position before moving on. You know what that means?"

  Five-Seven merely grunted in reply.

  The Captain returned to his seat and continued to look at the imagery.

  "They mean to stay out here, so they need a safe base to operate from. Agriphos is far enough away from the other planets, and well out of reach of Karnak."

  His eyes blinked rapidly, and then he lifted a hand to his nose just as he sneezed. Five-Seven appeared startled by the outburst, and the Captain shook his head to dismiss is as nothing important.

  "Allergies, that's all."

  Five-Seven looked back to the crew and continued communicating with them in the fast, impossible to understand voice, leaving the Captain to himself.

  They're not the friendliest bunch, are they? Still, you couldn't ask for a more efficient ship.

  "Can we see them yet?" he asked.

  Five-Seven increased the magnification of the massive three-metre wide Schmidt-Cassegrain telescope fitted in the special housing under the nose of the warship. With its motorised mount and powerful cooling system, the scope could see far off into the distance and show even the most remote of deep-space objects. This time the equipment focussed on the approaching ship. At first there was little to see as another thin cloud of ice particles blocked the view, but then the image coalesced into a bizarre contraption.

  "What...is...that?" asked the Captain.

  "Five-Seven shifted his eyes to the tactical data for a brief moment.

  "Forty seconds."

  He then looked back at the imagery of the ship.

  "It's big, with the mass centred around its bow. The computer detects eight more heavy missile ports, and four larger tubes for heavy torpedoes. Medium armour, fragile superstructure, but a reasonably strong chassis."

  Their eyes met for a moment.

  "Assessment on size, power unit, engines, and weapons suggests the vessel is designed for speed and firepower."

  Both looked to the column of data that increased as the scanners identified further components on the ship.

  "Computer finds no match in the expanded database, new entry created."

  On any other day, finding a new ship class would be a big deal. Not today, though, just another Anicinàbe spacecraft marginally different to the many ships they'd seen before. Unlike all the other races, there appeared to be few standard designs among the warring clans of this ancient people, and that meant every encounter tended to be another new ship.

  "Designated as Anicinàbe Missile Cruiser Class Forty-One in the database. It will join the others in the group codename, Wildfire."

  Captain Delatorre's eyes opened wide in surprise.

  "Forty-one variants, incredible."

  Five-Seven pointed to the central display that gave a detail view towards the enemy. Small shapes moved faster and faster towards ANS Titan.

  "Twenty seconds. They are moving into range. The ship is altering its course and increasing velocity. They are coming this way."

  "You have full authorisation to use lethal force."

  The Thegn nodded and sent the order. It was not strictly necessary, as once the torpedoes passed the outer cordon, the
point-defence system would activate automatically.

  "Firing," said Five-Seven.

  Captain Delatorre felt his body tense as the torpedoes moved to within ten seconds of the ship. Their engines still burned, pushing them on even faster. With the distance covered, they were travelling at such a speed it would be all but impossible to intercept without using the direct-energy weapons aboard ANS Titan. Unlike other ships in the Alliance inventory, the Confederate Class were well equipped with these high-velocity guns.

  Medium-sized turret mounts moved as the secondary weapons of the ship prepared for battle. These guns dealt with targets up to the maximum range for missiles, gunboats, and escort ships. The 37mm particle blaster turrets opened fire, showing a barely visible stream of energy where it glinted off dust and other particles. These energy-hungry weapons unleashed brief bursts of high-energy subatomic particles at the speed of light.

  Several torpedoes exploded, yet more came on, moving ever closer to the ship; the nearest split apart into multiple smaller warheads, as they travelled past the tracking radius of the particle blasters.

  "Seven warheads remaining. Impact in six seconds," said Five-Seven.

  The timing suggested they were metres away, but they all knew the warheads had only just cut their engines and were now travelling at incredibly high speeds.

  "Point-defence turrets active."

  The entire ship was protected by a layered defence system, and the scores of 20mm coilgun turrets were the last line of defence. These were fitted onto motorised gun mounts in batches of four and fed via internal hoppers. One by one they opened up, sending solid metal slugs off into space. More missiles exploded until just one remained. Five-Seven opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, the warhead vanished in a white flash. The tactical officer nodded excitedly.

  "All torpedoes destroyed. Enemy vessel has changed approach vector. They are preparing another volley."