He gave her a grin that did not reach his eyes. “There was one more order from the Admiral. She was forwarding it from Brigadier General Shaw. Until you return to the Phoenix Rising, the lance corporal is to remain at your side.”
She didn’t say anything? Orders were orders, whether she liked it or not. “I understand.”
“I’ll be on the bridge. Join me when you can.”
With that, he left the Ready Room, the door sliding shut behind him. A moment later, it opened and Connery stepped inside. She braced to attention and waited for Ash to speak.
“I assume you received additional instructions from the Master Guns,” Ashlyn said.
“I did, Ma’am. Also, just so the Colonel knows, I also received orders from General Shaw.”
Of course she had. It wouldn’t surprise Ashlyn to discover Okafor had included her own orders as well.
“Don’t look like I’m going to bite your head off, Connery. I have a feeling both of us would much rather be in the staging area, waiting to take the fight to the Callusians.”
“I know I would, Ma’am.”
“Since that isn’t going to happen, let’s make sure the rest of the platoon is ready to move. Captain Thrasher has moved up the timetable. We have less than half an hour to make sure everyone is in position to move.”
Not much time but enough, assuming Lashay had done as she’d ordered earlier. Damn but she wished the powers-that-be had let her bring First Platoon.
* * *
“Sir, we are being hailed.” Comms bent over his console, his shoulders hunched.
“Visual?” Dorescu asked.
“Aye.”
“Put it up.”
He leaned back and watched as the display before him changed from the tactical display. Gone were the representations of his ships and the approaching Fuerconese vessels. Replacing it was a single image, the Fuerconese flag. His lips pulled back and bared his teeth at the sight. A few seconds later, the image of a light haired man replaced it.
“This is Captain Rafe Thrasher, commanding the Nagato. You have entered Fuerconese space. Identify yourselves and prepare to be boarded. Once we have determined you are carrying no contraband, you will be free to go about your business.”
Dorescu slammed his fist against his thigh and then signaled the comms officer to open transmission.
“Captain Thrasher, this is Commander Meersham, commanding the Thomas Augustine. We are a merchant convoy out of Halstrom’s Landing. The terms of our treaty with Fuercon gives us free passage through your system.”
“Not in times of war, Commander,” the Fuerconese captain said. “All ships coming in-system, especially when they are not following normal transit routes, are being stopped and searched. We require you to power down your shields and weapons systems and stand by for boarding.”
“Captain Thrasher, as you just pointed out, it is a time of war. Before I agree to your terms, I need to confirm your identity. Pan out your video feed so I can identify your uniform.”
“Once you do the same, Commander Meersham,” Thrasher countered.
Dorescu made a sliding motion across his throat, signaling Comms to cut the feed. How dare Thrasher demand anything?
“Comms, how quickly can you bring up the overlay? I need him to see a merchant uniform.”
“Thirty seconds, Sir.” His fingers flew across his board. Each passing second seemed to take minutes and Dorescu fought the urge to pace. Finally, Comms signaled he was ready. “Comms restored, Sir.”
“Captain Thrasher, my apologies,” Dorescu said, risking a quick glance at his image in the lower right corner of the display. “You know how it is. Our owners would rather spend money on themselves than on the parts we need to keep our systems running.” He lifted on shoulder in a half-shrug and gave a little smile. As he did, he cursed mentally. Thrasher was making no attempt to hide either the fact he was a Fuerconese Naval officer or that he and his crew were ready for battle. There was no mistaking the light armor they wore.
Damn them!
“Of course, Commander. Now, I must insist you do as instructed. If not, you will leave me with no choice but to order my ships to open fire. You have two minutes to give me your answer.”
Without waiting for a response, Thrasher ended the transmission. For a moment, Dorescu stared at the Fuerconese flag that replaced the captain’s image. Two minutes! Not long enough to get his LACs in the air but long enough to activate ship’s defenses. It would take the guns longer to come online but that didn’t matter. Thrasher was like every other Fuerconese commander he had faced. All bluster and too little action to back it up. He would soon learn how foolish he had been to challenge Anton Dorescu.
“Shields up and weapons hot,” he ordered. “Get the LACs launched. As soon as weapons are online, open fire.”
“Sir, they have launched their LACs!”
“Good. Let them learn how foolish they are to challenge us.” Three ships against his taskforce had no hope of survival. “Let’s get this done. A few prisoners, some playthings and riches to line our pockets if we do it right. Think of the praise they will shower on us when we return home.”
* * *
“Sir, they have brought up their shields and sensors read their weapons going hot.”
“I guess they aren’t quite as friendly as they wanted us to believe.” He studied the plot for a moment before looking up. “Colonel?”
“LACs have launched and are moving into position, Sir. Shall I launch the attack shuttles?”
“Go ahead.” He nodded to Comms to signal the other ships to go to battle stations.
He turned his attention back to the plot. As he did, he liked what he saw. The LACs were assuming positions that put them between the Callusian taskforce and his three ships. At Ashlyn’s order, they would begin their attack run. If their luck held, the LACs would be enough to keep the enemy engaged until Admiral Tremayne the rest of Second Fleet were in position. It was their best bet to survive the battle.
While Ashlyn passed on the order for the attack shuttles to launch, Thrasher continued the plot before him. As he did, he felt the familiar tensing, the slight touch of electricity coursing through him. His counterpart might have identified himself as a merchant captain but he knew better. The moment the man’s image appeared on the display, Thrasher had recognized him from the briefing materials Admiral Collins had sent. This was the Callusian commander in charge of the attack on the Cassius System. Was he now here to attempt an attack on Fuercon?
If so, he will find out we aren’t nearly as easy a target.
“Shuttles away, Sir,” Ashlyn reported.
“The boarding parties?”
“Are ready to move once the ships either stand down or surrender. The basic plan is to send teams to Bridge, Engineering, Environmental and AuxCon once we can get onboard.” She paused and he waited, guessing from the look on her face she was trying to get her thoughts in order. “Captain, my squad leaders understand that our priority is to capture at least one ship with its databanks intact. However, they will not jeopardize the overall success of the mission in order to do so. Nor will they place themselves in unnecessary danger without it looking like there is a good chance they can secure the data.”
“Understood and agreed, Colonel. If at all possible, I want to bring everyone home safe from this assignment.” He glanced at the plot and a frown played at the corners of his mouth. “Comms, contact CIC. I want and update on the ships. It looks to me as if we’re coming up on more tonnage than we initially thought.”
“Aye, Sir,” the communications officer replied before turning to his board to relay the message.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Thrasher continued. “Let’s not get sloppy now. Comms, inform Admiral Tremayne of the change in status. Sound battle stations.”
“Aye, Sir,” Comms replied.
For the next few minutes, Thrasher sat back and listened as the various stations reported in. As they did, the LACs and attack shuttle
s closed the distance to the enemy ships. It wouldn’t be long before they were within the enemy’s weapons range.
“Comms, message to Commander Meersham. We take their silence and the fact they have activated their shields and their weapons are going hot as an act of warfare. Unless they want our ships to open fire, they will immediately surrender and standby for boarding.”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Colonel Shaw.”
He got to his feet and moved to the far end of the bridge, motioning for her to come with him. She paused long enough to say something to the lance corporal before moving in Thrasher’s direction. Watching her, Thrasher nodded slightly. She might not appreciate being ordered to remain onboard, especially since she was not on the flagship where she could coordinate the action of all the Devil Dogs, but her presence on the Nagato meant he had a resource most ship’s captains never did.
“Captain, the bogeys have just changed formation. Their engines have powered up and they are on an approach vector that will cut behind us if we maintain current speed and course,” Tactical reported without taking her eyes from her display.
“Understood. Inform the other ships to slow and execute Plan Omega. Comms, inform Admiral Tremayne.”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Colonel, bring the LACs around to their attack vectors.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Ashlyn quickly conveyed the order. Thrasher nodded in approval as she instructed the COLAC to begin transmitting a visual back to the Phoenix Rising. Once she had, she waited, the fingers of her right hand drumming a staccato tempo against her thigh. Hearing it, Thrasher smiled slightly. For some reason, it was slightly reassuring to know she wasn’t as calm as she seemed.
Realizing the train of his thoughts, he turned his attention to covertly study her. She might want personal vengeance for all she and her people had suffered – and he wouldn’t blame her if she did. – but she would never let that desire put others in danger. She would do her duty, even if it meant staying onboard the Nagato.
“Care to share?” she asked as he smiled slightly.
“Just glad you’re here, Ash.” He looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “If anything happens and I’m taken out of action, you have the con until someone my rank or higher can take over. Do not let the XO assume command.”
“Rafe, no can do. You know that. Wrong service track.”
“Orders, Ash. Not just from me as ship’s commander but from the Admiral. She said to tell you it will be nothing more than what you had to do when you assumed command of the light cruiser in docking orbit.”
“Except for this little matter of a Callusian taskforce bearing down on us.” She did not sound amused.
“Incoming visual, Captain,” Tactical reported.
“Put it up,” he replied and returned to his place in the center of the bridge.
A moment later, the holo display showed LACs pouring out of bays from the leading ships. Reports started coming in from CIC over the battle net with the number of LACs, their classification and probably armament. As soon as CIC finished, the COLAC requested orders. It didn’t surprise Thrasher to hear Ashlyn giving the COLAC permission to engage.
“Sir, this doesn’t feel right,” Ashlyn said as they watched the distance between their LACs and the enemy’s narrow. “Could they be trying to slip ships – or maybe even something else, probes maybe – past us?”
“Captain, we just picked up a transmission burst from the lead ship,” Comms reported before he could respond.
“Content?” He moved to stand behind the young man, eyes narrowing as he watched him work.
“I can only guess, Sir. It’s going to take a while for the computers to break the encryption.”
“If there had been any doubt about their intentions, notwithstanding the way they launched their LACs, there isn’t now. They wouldn’t be sending encrypted messages if they were innocently here,”
“Guns, fire at will.”
“Fire at will, aye.”
“We have incoming!” Tactical reported.
A shrill alarm shattered the silence following her announcement. Thrasher watched as the tactical display was updated. His mouth hardened to see several enemy LACs breaking through. The COLAC’s voice came over the battle net, ordering several of their own LACs to pursue. At the same time, the Nagato prepared to open fire.
“First volley away, Captain. Implementing Fire Plan Hades.”
“Enemy missiles incoming!”
“Damage control teams, stand by.”
“LACs incoming! Collision course!”
Thrasher cursed and opened ship-wide comms. “Brace for impact. Brace for impact.” He checked the bridge crew, relieved to see them quickly buckling in.
“Captain, get your ass into your shock frame!” Ashlyn ordered.
The Nagato shuddered and bucked as the first LAC hit its shields. The screens flared as the LAC tumbled, breaking apart only moments before its torpedoes exploded. she was hit. A second LAC followed the first in, somehow managing to avoid the defensive screen laid out by the Nagato’s turrets. Thrasher turned, ordering all compartments sealed. As he did, part of him noted the almost businesslike way Ashlyn slammed her helmet into place, quickly checking the seal. Then the ship rocked violently again and he felt himself flying through the air. There was pain and then all went dark.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“TWO LACS BROKE THROUGH their line, Sir!”
Dorescu leaned forward, his attention focused on the tactical display. He listened as reports came in. Other than the two LACs that had managed to break through the Fuerconese line, their fighters were less than effective. The Fuerconese LACs were faster, their shields stronger. Worse, their weapons were tearing the Callusian LACs to pieces. If their lasers didn’t find a target, their torpedoes did. The attrition rate was as bad, if not worse, than it had been in the last war.
And this after the Midlothians had assured them their new targeting systems would be as good, if not better, that the Fuerconese’s. This battle already put the lie to that claim. Making matters worse, their counter-measures appeared to be more effective as well. The LACs, at least some of them, carried decoy missles. Between them and chaff, his weapons system was having difficulty staying locked on target.
It would only delay the inevitable. The Fuerconese ships might have the advantage in technology but he had the numbers. The loss of the LACs would have to be explained to Command but they would overlook it when he proved not only that the Fuercon System was not as secure as they had always thought but was ripe for the taking.
“The Nagato is damaged, Sir. It’s venting atmosphere and sensor readings confirm damage to Engineering.”
“Order the LACs to break away and focus their fire on the Nagato. Tirol Squadron is to break formation. Focus on the trailing ship, designated Gamma Target. Vandal Squadron is to focus on the second shit, designated Beta. The Nagato is ours.”
“Aye, sir.” The communications officer relayed his orders.
“Status of the rest of their ships?”
“The last report had them on an intercept course. Time to intercept sixty-seven minutes, Captain.”
He started to nod and then paused. What he Kovacz meant by “the last report”? “Explain!” he snapped.
“No explanation, Sir. When I queried CIC they said that was all the information they had.”
With a curse, Dorescu signaled CIC. As he did, he wondered if he had made a mistake by keeping Kovacz on the bridge. Under most circumstances, the first officer would be in CIC, a precaution in case the enemy managed to get a direct hit on the bridge. Dorescu had chosen to send the second officer to CIC this time. He had wanted to prove to Kovacz the benefits of serving with him far outweighed the danger of trying to kill him. Then there was the issue of Hughes. When the time came to deal with the Midlothian, Dorescu planned to not only let his first officer have a little fun with him but to make sure he had a record of it. Blackmail often convinced the reluc
tant not to do something they might both regret.
“Why have you not updated the information on the main Fuerconese formation?” he demanded once the assistant tactical officer answered his comm.
“Sir, there is no new information. The Fuerconese ships are somehow managing to jam our sensors. Either that or they have come to a full stop.”
“Adjust your damned equipment and find out where they are!”
“Incoming!”
“Launch counter-measures!” he ordered.
Damn them!
He gripped the arms of his chair as the missles their countermeasures missed hit the ship’s shields. Reports poured in and he relaxed slightly. No major damage. The bridge crew coordinated with their counterparts in CIC and AuxCon. The gunnery crews hunched over their monitors, discussing the best way to counter the next wave of enemy fire. The Fuerconese may have gotten lucky with that first wave of fire from their LACs but Dorescu swore that was where their luck would end.
“Helm, plot a new course. Close distance with the Nagato. Approach from the port side. Let’s take advantage of their weakened shielding.”
“Aye, sir.”
He sat back and watched as one by one his LACs blinked off the tactical screen. Anger burned deep within him as he realized his mistake. By ordering them to break off from the enemy LACs to focus on the Nagato and her sister ships, he had put them between two waves of enemy fire with little support from his own ships. Good men were dying as a result but they died for the greater glory of the cause. Their deaths kept the enemy focused on the LAC attack, giving his ships time to get into position to destroy the three Fuerconese ships. He would sing their deaths as the Nagato burned.
* * *
“Captain, get your ass into your shock frame!”
Ashlyn turned to Thrasher as the two enemy LACs broke through their defenses. She didn’t need the sensor tech’s report to know the LACs were accelerating. She had seen this tactic too many times in the last war. The enemy LAC pilots – Hell, who was she kidding? The Callusians had been known to do it with almost every class of ship they used – were accelerating, not away from the Nagato but toward it. They were suiciding into the ship in an attempt to take down their shielding and do what damage they could.
Honor from Ashes (Honor and Duty Book 3) Page 20