by Chris Hechtl
:::{)(}:::
The initial missile exchange was aimed directly at the federation battle cruisers, not their screen. It immediately became apparent that they'd chosen Independence since she was the closest BC. “I'd expected this but thicker with less of an interval between volleys. Why are they holding the dreadnaughts back?” Garfield mused. “He's wasting a lot of missiles though, I'd thought he'd go for the screen again and open a bigger hole,” he said.
“Count your blessings,” Kyle muttered.
“They are holding them back to fire them when they get closer,” Admiral White rumbled. “Right now this is more testing of the waters. They want to know how well our defenses will stand up to their fire.”
Garfield nodded. “Aye, sir. That is my assessment as well.”
“We've got more battle cruisers than they do, and ours are better. We're about parity in missiles though,” the admiral said thoughtfully. “That's without factoring in the magazines on the dreadnaughts. Those two Derfflinger class BCs have bigger magazines than our Newmans do.”
“I was going to say that, sir,” Garfield replied. “But we don't know how many missiles they have total. We have to assume they have full loadouts of course,” he offered.
“Right,” the admiral said. He frowned then crossed his arms. “Garfield, I want you to hold a percentage of our counter missiles back.”
The Neocat flicked his ears in surprise. “Sir?”
“Another point he's trying to make is to get us to fire ourselves dry. Let's not do that, shall we?” the admiral said pointedly.
The cat flicked his ears and then nodded slowly. “Understood, sir. I can … pick and choose our missiles targets more carefully. Cut the speed between launches down.”
“Do that. We'll take some hits but the BCs are designed to handle it.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the Neocat replied. He nodded once but his half-erect ears and dyspeptic expression said he didn't like the idea.
“In the meantime, let's see if we can throw some heat his way. Give him a broadside of KEWs every time he settles down on a course. Keep him dancing. That should break up some of his telemetry feeds and make it harder for him to handle changes,” the admiral ordered. He'd already given the enemy a taste of his own missile capabilities. That might have been an error. Only time would tell him if it had or not. It all depended on how much the enemy had learned, and if they could find a way to adapt and devise strategies to compensate for their weakness.
Something told him they weren't slouches at that.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Good. Also let's see fire plan Zeta again. The same variant minus your twist at the end,” the admiral ordered.
“Aye, sir.”
“Good,” the admiral turned to Kyle. “Let the fighters know to stay out of the way.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
Admiral De Gaulte stared with narrowed eyes as he noted the counter missile fire. They were only firing a pair of counter missiles at each missile. Each was slightly staggered as well. If one missile got through to destroy the target before the other, the surviving missile went ballistic until it got into range of the next volley of missiles coming in. It was elegant and told him a lot of bad things about the Fed's defensive fire control.
“Volley one no hits, sir. We didn't even get close enough to their point defense, sir,” Catherine reported.
“I see that. And the second and third volleys aren't going to do much better. Shift priorities to time on target. I want at least three volleys to come in at the same time. See if that changes things,” the admiral ordered.
“Aye aye, sir. I'm noting a distressing need for ECM missiles, sir,” Catherine said wryly.
“You and me both, Commander. Write up the recommendation when you have time. After this battle of course,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” she said with a puckish smile. “I also noted they are returning fire. One eighty-round volley, targeted on Musashi,” she warned. “There is a secondary round of KEW shot in our flight path,” she stated.
“Screen to move in. Helm to maneuver around the KEW. Don't let it hit our ships,” the admiral ordered.
:::{)(}:::
“They've taken the bait. See? I told you concentrating on the point BC initially would get their attention,” Garfield said with a feline grin.
“It isn't a success until it's over,” Jojo warned.
:::{)(}:::
As the Fed missiles hit their secondary boost stage, they maneuvered, spreading out. Then it became apparent that they were clustering at targets other than Musashi. Twenty missiles had been allocated for each target.
“Sir, they are going for the screen again,” Catherine warned.
“I see that. Order them in tighter. SITREP?”
“We've destroyed ten. Second counter missile barrage is en route. A third is coming from Musashi; the Nelsons have switched to self-protection mode,” she stated.
“To be expected. They can't be of much help to the fleet if they are dead,” he stated.
“Demeantor has moved in to support her division mate and is firing now, sir,” Sedrick reported. “They've got half the missiles,” he said tone picking up.
“Steady. Remember this is just the first volley,” the admiral stated.
Sedrick nodded.
“Point Defense active. The BCs are continuing with the counter missiles …” After a moment with her hand to her ear to listen intently to the CIC report Catherine grimaced and looked up. “Battle of Samar took one hit on her shields. She's recovering now sir.”
“Just one hit?” Sedrick asked.
“It's just the first volley, Sedrick,” Catherine warned.
“I know that but damn!” he said with a smile. He couldn't help it she knew. She glanced at the admiral but he wasn't looking at either of them.
“Step up the volley fire. Move to three second intervals in the next wave,” he ordered.
“Aye aye,” Catherine murmured, passing the order on to the tactical team.
:::{)(}:::
Garfield looked nonplussed with his ears back when the tally from the first missile volley came in. Jojo snorted mentally. “I told you that you were being too cute. They expected it.”
“I know that now,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I'm upping my appreciation of how many missiles it will take to get through their defenses. You will note that we did score one hit.”
“And it took eighty missiles to do it,” Kyle retorted. “Missiles don't grow on trees,” he reminded the cat.
“Nor do counter missiles. They haven't been shy about using them, but they have to have burned through a lot by now,” Garfield said, ears out.
“We can't count on it. Not until we get deeper into their range,” the admiral reminded him.
“Sir, we've got a timed-on target volley coming in. A triple coming in hard and fast. One hundred eight missiles coming in. A second wave is coming in behind them,” Garfield warned.
“Pass the defenses to Kyle. Garfield, let's see if you can score some hits of our own. Step up, Zeta. This time go for the BC but make it look like the same firing plan until the last minute,” the admiral ordered.
“Aye, sir. It'll take a moment to write the script,” the tactical officer replied.
“Kyle, Jojo, work on the defensive coordination. I think we're going to need the bombers out sooner than I'd hoped for.”
“Aye aye, sir. On your call …”
“Don't wait for me. If it looks like they are going to saturate us, get the bombers out. It'll take them time to orient and get into position anyway,” the admiral ordered as the first counter missiles began to fire.
“Aye aye, sir,” Kyle and Jojo chorused before they got back to work.
:::{)(}:::
The missile exchanges came from the bow tubes of both fleets. Each volley came in faster as the interval closed between the two fleets. However, until one went transverse of the other, neither force could bring their f
lank tubes into play. Space became a cauldron of missile trails, silently screaming federation ECM decoys, and explosions. The missile swarms began to take their toll as the range dropped and both sides had less time to react with counter missiles and counter measures.
But for Second Fleet that was where the bombers came in. They wouldn't be able to hold position for long. Their fuel wasn't inexhaustible, but they could put on an additional layer of defense for a short time.
Each of the thirty-two bombers had been refitted with ECM packages, extra fuel tanks, and an additional pair of munition pods. Each pod had twelve small fighter-sized counter missiles in it. They launched just as Independence took her first pair of hits on her shield, followed quickly by three hits on her division mate Vigilance. Both battle cruisers took the harsh blows on their bow shields, momentarily stopping their return fire for a full minute before they got their shields and systems back online.
But once the bombers were in place, they immediately cut a swath in the enemy missile swarms. They kept their counter missile pods in reserve, instead using their laser turrets as much as possible.
While they did that, Admiral White shifted the last of the screen to cover the fleet train and carriers. The destroyers and light cruisers would do their best to cover the mostly unarmed and unarmored ships while the engagement entered its most dangerous phase.
He deliberately exposed his battle cruisers as the rear guard. They would draw the most fire and hopefully let the other ships escape.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral De Gaulte didn't hide his surprise as he sipped at a cup of coffee. He, like his staff, had been caught off guard by the bomber launch. They could see them at that distance, their drive trails gave them away, so they'd expected a torpedo strike and had therefore ordered Commander Zakhan's fighters into the void in anticipation.
But the attack was not to be. The fleet defense role suddenly became clear as their missiles died in droves well before they entered the enemy ship's outer counter-missile envelope. And the screen's shift to cover the fleet train meant they wouldn't get any easy kills there either.
The admiral carefully set his cup down and shook his head. “It's stupid of me, I know. It is in the tactical manuals. It caught me off guard though how flexible they are. I must really be tired.” He cut off slipping from his statement of self-depreciation.
“Yes, sir,” Catherine replied, hugging her tablet to her chest. “This is a learning curve.”
“A steep one,” the admiral replied grimly.
:::{)(}:::
The bombers did more than just pick off targets of opportunity. They also were the forward eyes of the fleet, passing back what their sensors saw through the datanet in a finely tuned act of coordination. It allowed the fleet to better coordinate their fire. It became far more accurate when Commander Wilder launched a pair of eyes shuttles to keep watch and to act as SAR shuttles.
When the bombers took up position, the Horathians changed tactics to time-on target bombardments spaced four to five minutes apart. It was an effort to saturate the bomber's defenses to get some of the missiles past them, which it did. But behind their layer of defense were still the ship's counter missiles and PDLs. Each BC took a hit or two, from time to time, but their shields weathered the storm.
Six hours into the mission and fatigue started to become a factor for the bomber crews though. Also munitions, they had quickly ran out of counter missiles for the bombers. When they began to run dry on power for their guns, Commander Wilder and Meia recalled them in stages to be replaced by fighters.
“We've proven they aren't going to saturate us at this range, sir,” Kyle said. He had dark circles under his eyes and seemed tired but still game.
“I know. Are the CAGs recalling all the bombers?” Amadeus asked.
“They are just about a spent force. Their efficiency has dropped to less than 10 percent, sir. The CAGs have been replacing them on a case-by-case basis and stacking the fighters to compensate, but they aren't as confident about the fighters doing the same job.”
The admiral grimaced. He was right. The CAGs were most certainly right; fighters weren't built for the fleet defense role. They didn't have the sensors for one, nor the ability to handle the swarms. “Can the bombers be turned around?”
“I … Yes, sir.”
“I know fatigue is a factor. Have their implants authorized amphetamines or other drugs to keep them alert. What is their ordinance situation?”
Kyle grimaced as he glanced over to Jojo. The admiral followed his sight line to his flag Lieutenant.
“In a word, not good, sir. They can refuel and recharge of course, but their counter missiles are almost completely expended.”
“Damn,” the admiral murmured. He checked the clock. They still had seven hours to get to the jump point. The interval was closing. In another hour the Horathian missiles would be able to switch to sprint mode right out of their tubes. And when they were at the jump point, Second Fleet would be within the extreme range of some of the capital class energy weapons. That wasn't something he liked, but he knew he couldn't avoid it.
“How are we with hitting them?” he asked.
“We've scored some hits on their battle cruisers, knocked the shields down, but they rebound. They are getting smart and rotating out the lead BCs sir, keeping them fresh.”
“And allowing the others to get some shield repairs and DCC. This guy is learning faster than I'd like,” Amadeus mused.
“Yes, sir.”
“Our ID of the ships, you finally got a good enough look for a possible fingerprint. You said you believe the flagship is Executioner?” he asked, turning to Kelly.
His Neogorilla intelligence officer nodded dumbly. Amphetamines made you more alert, but your thought processes were still slowed by time. “Yes, sir, Executioner. That makes it Admiral Cyrano De Gaulte … unless there were some shake-ups in their chain of command that we're not aware of,” she warned.
“So, we can put a name to our opponent but not a face or bio,” the admiral replied. Kelly shook her head. “Well, hopefully you're taking notes on his skills here,” he said wryly. She snorted. “Good.”
“Any ideas on how to get around this swapping, sir? I know it cuts their fire back …”
“And makes the numbers random. It keeps our people on edge, which I don't like. I know people can't handle that sort of strain. They are all doing wonders though.”
“Yes, sir,” Jojo interjected. “They will be hitting sprint mode soon. Should we launch the drones to thicken our defenses?”
“Five minutes before we enter the sprint mode zone launch them. Let's keep them primed though in case they get cute and we need the additional firepower.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
One hour later Admiral De Gaulte nodded to Catherine. “It is time to step up the pressure Commander—sprint mode. Pick a single target and pound it,” he ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Catherine replied with a dutiful nod. She'd managed to get a catnap in; the admiral had insisted they each take one in turn up until this point she thought. The point where things really got interesting.
“Sir, they are launching something. It looks like defensive drones,” a rating reported.
“This part I expected. They can leave them behind if they don't want to recall them in time, which I bet they won't.”
“Why bother when they can replace them,” Sedrick muttered.
“I know.”
“Sir, sprint mode engaged. We've picked their trailing BC and escorts. But sir, they have stepped up their fire as well. And they've switched to time on target as well,” Sedrick reported.
“Damn,” Catherine muttered.
The admiral eyed her. “No plan survives contact with the enemy, Commander. He wants to live just as badly as you do. More importantly, he wants to win,” he said. “That's why it is deadly to underestimate him. In this case I was expecting it.”
“Aye, sir.”
; “I know Commander Zakhan said his bombers aren't quite up for the defensive role but order them and our own defensive drones into space now. Plan Lima, Commander.”
Catherine blinked and then nodded. Lima put the bombers and drones in a defensive net in-between the fleets. But they had to stay out of the firing arcs of their own ships.
“Aye, sir,” she replied, passing the orders along.
:::{)(}:::
“Sir, they've launched their bombers. It looks like … yes, they are spreading apart and taking up defensive positions,” Kyle reported.
“Trying to help their own defenses. To be expected,” the admiral replied. Second Fleet's first sprint bombardment had hammered the shields of one of the Derfflinger's flat. She'd taken a couple blows on her bow as well before the pounding had ended. Before a follow-up could be arranged as a possible knockout blow, she retired under the cover of her consorts.
“Sir, we're two hours out from the jump point. They've changed to firing at random times every ten minutes, undoubtedly to conserve power. I'm at a loss to …,” Jojo scrubbed her face in exhaustion and frustration. “Sorry, sir.”
“I've got one last trick to try,” Amadeus said, patting her on the shoulder. “An old one I suppose but a goodie.”
“Sir?” Jojo asked.
The admiral was about to answer when a Veraxin rating waved a lobster claw to get their attention. “Yes?” the admiral asked.
“Sir, the fleet train is about to hit the outer edge of the jump zone. They are ready to charge their hyperdrives,” the ration reported.
“Good,” the admiral said as he nodded. “Pass the order to do so. The warships will hold off for last. Cripples are to move forward at best speed and begin charging now,” he ordered. He looked over to his OPS officer. “Kyle, you'll need to coordinate that and plug any gaps in our defense as it happens,” he said. “Preferably before it happens,” he said.