“And find a way to fight back. A guerrilla war,” Taylor Warner said. His wife nodded. “This is our home, our people. We can't just sit back and watch them die. We have a responsibility to them to lead them, to shelter and protect them. We have to defend ourselves,” he said, looking around the virtual meeting. Others nodded in grim agreement.
Chapter 31
En-route to Antigua Purple Thorn analyzed the data they had and plugged it into a series of sims. She wrote a series of scripts with Firefly. The AI changed a few of the parameters and mixed them up so the tactical officer would also be caught off guard when as the sim played out. When they were ready they ran the sims past the Captain and crew in order to train and to think of a plan of attack.
The sims went over well, they were something positive to do, something to contribute to what was coming. A way to focus their excess energy constructively. They were hard, and in several they were beat, sobering the crew. Suddenly the tactical officer was very much aware of the sim's possible impact on morale.
The sims went rather well in some cases, but she and Commander Logan spotted a general trend that the other officers tended to overlook. The long view, as the Commander called it.
Enthusiasm for the coming battle was mixed with the officers as they sat around to discuss the situation after the first series of sims concluded.
“The problem is we don't know what they have. Ship classes? We're thinking the largest warship is a destroyer, but there were some civilian drives that were cruiser strength.”
“True.”
“Skipper, we can't go in with a frontal attack. Sneaky may be our only option. We'll be outnumbered and possibly outgunned. Certainly outnumbered.”
“By what? Frigates and corvettes?” Mayweather asked, resting her head on her hand and tapping her index finger against her temple. “They are targets.”
“We may be up to one hundred percent Captain, but even a full gene engineered super bison can be taken down by a determined pack of wolves Captain,” Firefly cautioned. “And it isn't just the small escort ships we have to worry about. There are two, possibly as many as three tin cans as well. That's a lot of tin to go up against, they're three mastiffs to our one lion. If any one of them gets a piece of us, we'll be in trouble.”
“And if they come at us concentrated we'll be screwed Captain,” Purple Thorn said stiffly, turning her goat like eyes onto her Captain. “If they hammer us hard enough, from enough firing angles we'll lose our shields. A hard enough hit to our drive and we won't be able to maneuver.”
“Lamed.”
“Right. They could sit back and throw missiles or rocks at us at near C until we're too chewed up to fight back.”
“But the last scenario...”
“Was just that, a sim. We based it on what we know about pirates. What the Horathian's had in Pyrax. I think Firefly tweaked their abilities upward a bit though,” the tactical officer accused, turning her eyes to the AI avatar.
“I thought twenty percent was a good number. You never want to train against an easy opponent Lieutenant.”
“I gathered that.”
“The problem is we don't know. We don't know which system we'll encounter them... if we encounter them. We could sail past them without knowing,” Shelby said.
“True.”
“That last sim, we won. What was wrong with it?” the Captain asked.
The tactical officer opened her mouth and spread her hands but before she could respond the exec put a hand out on the table. All eyes turned to her. “Captain. Yes we did win. But there is winning in the short term, and then the long term. We won, but at what cost?” she asked. She touched her tablet, pulled up the data she wanted and then pressed send. The holo table changed to an image of Firefly. “We won, but here is an estimate of our battle damage. Drive down to half, hyperdrive shot, shields on the starboard side gone, half our weapons, sensors... We would be lamed.”
“Indeed.”
“About twenty percent casualties, maybe more with all the Marines if we don't find a way to get them off before the fighting starts. Now, lamed ship, iffy hyperdrive, and we are far from home. If the pirates take out the station...”
“We'd be stuck in Antigua. Or where ever the battle takes place. Triang... Adrift someplace...”
They could feel the icy chill as the officers contemplated that problem. No one liked the implications for their own survival let alone the long term survival of their home system.
The Captain held up a hand. “I see. So, we need to find a way to maximize our advantages.”
“Yes. We have a single squadron of fighters on board, plus all those drop ships. We've got 90 percent of our ammunition allotment, 120 percent of our stores... and a platoon of mixed Marines. We had always planned on using the Marines to retake the station. I'm assuming you have another idea Captain? Perhaps a boarding action or two?” the AI asked. “You do realize during a battle that is tantamount to suicide for the Marines and then drop ship crews?”
The Captain grunted, turning away and rubbing her chin. She paced, thinking. “We need contingency plans. You are right. Two sets at least, one dealing with a battle in a system other than Antigua, and another in Antigua. And sets for each.”
“What parameters?”
“Everything. We've got the time, think it through. If we get to Antigua first, fight defense. Will fighting on the jump point be our best option? Assume only our own resources.”
“I see.”
“Can we spoof them?” Shelby asked.
“ECM?”
“Yes and no,” she replied thoughtfully. “Say they're there first... can we oh, use our ECM to draw them out? A nice juicy freighter to chase?”
Slowly the Captain smiled. “I like it. Disperse them, then pounce. Divide and conquer.”
“Defeat in detail,” Purple Thorn murmured thoughtfully, eyes shifting as she turned the concept over in her small head. “It will need careful handling, the drive, our energy signature...” She tapped her small fingers. “Pick off a few of the ships will draw attention to us... they'd reform...”
“And how we can get the fighters in on the action too,” Shelby replied with a feral smile.
“See? There is always a solution to a problem. If we can't take them on as a group, one on one or hell, even three on one. Think of it. Look into things we might be able to use in the system too. Remember some of the tricks we played with asteroids?”
“Oh this is going to be interesting,” Shelby murmured as the officers picked up renewed enthusiasm.
...*...*...*...*...
“Do we have anything on the specs of that station? Prime is it?” Shelby asked, sounding concerned.
“Something on your mind number one?” the Captain asked. She crossed her arms.
“Yeah, I think the station will be the primary target of the pirates, it's the real prize after all.”
“True,” the Captain replied with a nod.
“So, my question is, we know the leadership is pacifistic, but would they surrender right off?”
“Course they will,” the Captain said, sniffing.
“Or... not. They could try to hold out if they knew what was coming.”
“What do you mean? They have no idea we're riding on our white horse to the rescue,” Firefly replied.
“You being the white horse?” Shelby teased.
“Whatever.”
“I'm not just thinking of that. If they try to hold them off, how long can they do so? And if they don't and we come in and they are on the station and on the ground... will we have to pop the shield to get our people in?”
“Ah. Now I see where you're going. Good questions Commander,” Firefly replied thoughtfully.
“I thought so. I actually don't like them, but someone's got to think it over.”
“I see. I wonder if 'Major' Pendeckle and or tactical teams have thought about any of this?”
“I don't know. I think they are spinning themselves into a tizzy thinking
of other things. Should we add this to their plate?”
“Why not?” the Captain asked. She shrugged. “It'll give them something else to think of.”
“You're all heart Captain,” Shelby replied.
“Just keeping the worriers busy.”
“True. So, the planet has the defense net. Planetary defense installations. That is if the pirates don't bomb them from on high. I seriously don't like the idea of them taking them intact somehow.”
“Always a nasty thought. And you accuse me of being mean! Now I've got that stuck in my head!” The Captain said.
“Sorry skipper. If you think it's hard on you, think of what that idea will do to the shuttle pilots and 'Major' Pendeckle and the Marines.”
“Yeah, I think maybe we'll file this under contingency ideas.”
“Right, no need to alarm them after all. But the station has it's ass swinging in the wind.”
Firefly's avatar shrugged. “There is an old saying in hostage rescue. It sucks to be the hostage.”
The Captain frowned ferociously. “Yeah well, something tells me we need to do something about that. Ideas people?”
“We can't dump shuttles in the battle Captain. Lowering the shields would be suicide,” Firefly stated. “And we won't really know who owns what real estate until we get there.”
“What about before?” the Captain asked, ignoring the last statement.
“They'd be targets for any frigate or gunship.”
Shelby winced. “Ouch.”
“They don't have the stealth of the fighters or Firefly Captain,” Firefly replied patiently.
“Maybe... maybe we can use that,” she said thoughtfully. She looked at the clock. They had twelve days left before break out and arrival.
“Hold on,” Mayweather murmured, staring at the bulkhead. “Just hold out. The cavalry’s coming,” she said under her breath.
...*...*...*...*...
After three days of continuous bombardment the station shields fluttered when the energy weapons of the three destroyers were concentrated on one point on one quadrant. Then the pirates hit the shields from range with a grav lance, a force emitter mounted to an expendable rocket. The emitter's distortion tore a hole in the shield and threw the shields into safe mode.
Suddenly they were hideously vulnerable.
“Finally,” Admiral Cartwright said, gloating over the shield's failure. “She's got her legs spread and waiting for us. Send Major Zimmer in to ream her good.”
Captain Maul made a face but nodded. “Aye aye sir.”
“Let's just make sure they can't raise those damn things again. All ships, target the shield nodes and communications arrays only. Then let's get some mad out. Fire.”
...*...*...*...*...
Before the stationers could recover the pirates popped the shield emitters like zits, then moved in with shuttles. They tried to form a single beachhead in the beta one sector, seizing the outer docking rings in that sector.
“Cute,” Major Zimmer, the ground force Commander snarled when he heard reports about the stationers welding doors shut and evacuating the air in that sector. “Don't they know when to quit?” he demanded.
“Apparently not sir,” Sergeant Nast replied. He wasn't looking forward to this, by their best estimates there were thousands of people on the station. Tens of thousands, possibly as high as a hundred thousand. And unlike the yard, these people could be armed. Hell, most likely they were armed. Armed and they knew what they were up against now. They would be fighting desperately for their lives now that they knew what was coming for them and their families.
“Well they damn well better. Soon.”
Zimmer ordered more shuttles to hit other locations, dividing his forces but also forcing the stationers to divide their efforts.
...*...*...*...*...
Private Wallus saw the flirty look of an incredibly beautiful looking woman in skimpy lingerie and stopped, stunned by her sultry good looks. She giggled girlishly and then posed. He licked his lips, aware he was making a fool out of himself. She was leaning against the bulkhead. She traced her fingers along the bulkhead and then entered an open hatch. She turned and blew him a kiss, then her long lithe legs daintily stepped over the knee knocker and she was gone.
He sniffed, but the smells of the station must have covered her scent. Still memory stood in for the lack of a scent, he imagined lavender or jasmine. He smiled and followed. “Ollie ollie in free,” He called at the hatch door, then stepped in. It was dark in the compartment. It was a store room, filled with racks of goods. He saw her body flash between the stacks. He ducked, grinning at the chase.
He never noticed the massive simian hands drop down to grab his head and snap his neck like a twig.
Savo gave the girl an upside down grin and thumbs up. She snorted, now all cold and doll like. “Think we can get another this way?” he asked.
“I doubt it,” the girl replied, then her holo wavered. “That's three. I think they might be getting wise to it. But we can try.”
“Ah. Well, if that doesn't work we could go the other way, use holograms to make the passages look like dead ends or cover people or holes or something.”
“True,” Rasha Warner replied. Her supermodel body vanished. “It's been a long time since I've had to giggle like that. I'm glad I've got audio to back the video up. It's hard!”
“Right...” Savo said, flipping off the top of the stack and then down to the ground. He checked the body over, picking his pockets and taking the weapons and ammunition he found. He knew better than to take the radio, they could track those. He'd used it once to lure someone in, but had bitten off more than he could chew.
“How are Howi and the others doing?” he asked when he finished. He stuffed the body in an empty container, sealed the lid, then rolled it back into place. He dropped another container on top then headed to the vent.
“Um, okay, he got one too. But I think I'm right, I just overheard their Commander order them to move in twos, no more solo bullshit as he said.”
“Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted.”
“Speaking of fun, meeting in Ralphi's bar and grill in ten.”
Savo grimaced, rubbing the small of his back. “Better make it thirty, crawling through the ducts isn't easy, even when you're a chimp. And I'm not exactly what you'd call a small chimp.”
“True, I'll let them know you are coming,” Rasha said as her image winked out.
...*...*...*...*...
“We're as ready as we'll ever be Ralphie,” Alice said, hugging her husband. She had a sawed off shotgun tucked under her right arm.
“I know,” he said, surveying their crew. They'd been shareholders in Yard Dog inc, the shipyard. They'd watched their friends die agonizing deaths. Now, here gathered were the remaining yard dogs in his bar, grimly determined to get some of their own back.
“We'll make em pay,” Sparks said. He wasn't sure if Regina was alive or dead. She'd been in the hab when he'd come over to the station on a stupid freight run. Oh how he regretted their separation.
“Keep your head,” Savo said, nodding to his gorilla wife Petunia. He turned, nodding to their chimp husband and wife. “I've got to go, Derrango's got something cooking,” he said. He kissed his Petunia and Shari, and then patted Howi on the shoulder. “Take care of them,” he murmured and then left at a trot, hefting his rifle on his shoulder.
“We need to hit them, make them fall back. Spook them. Any ideas?” Taylor asked. His holo avatar was the brightest thing in the dark room.
“Howi and I grew up on this station. We know all the ins and outs, and we can fight,” Shari said.
“Not pregnant,” Howi said, eying her.
She snorted bitterly, one hand cupping her swollen abdomen. “Do you think that matters to them?”
“No,” Howi said. “But we can hide. We've done it before.”
“I know. But not all of us can. They'll dig us out eventually Howi, you and I both know it. It's no way to liv
e. I don't...” she shifted uncomfortably. “I don't want that for our kid.”
“How's the arm?” Sparks asked, nodding his chin to Howi's bandage on his right arm.
“Flesh wound,” he said, looking at it briefly. “I've gotten worse welding,” he said. He'd cut it too close, trying to weld a hatch ahead of the pirates. They'd flanked the hatch he'd been working on, only ducking out through a vent had saved his fuzzy ass.
“Hell, your wife has done worse you mean,” Sparks teased.
“Which one?” Howi answered, grinning. “Course that was in bed...” he joked cracking his knuckles as he grinned at the two female primates.
Petunia sniffed. “Cad,” she said softly, still worried about Savo.
“I'll say,” Shari said, punching Howi in his good arm. He made a dutiful oof and then rubbed the arm.
“What about... I hesitate to even say it,” Grimaldi, the pizza chef grimaced, turning away.
“Spit it out. People are dying,” Taylor said sternly. “If you've got an idea, let's hear it.”
“I was thinking of the station's past when Howi mentioned it,” the chef said, waving to the chimps. “What I was wondering, I heard a med tech say that some of those... things still live. In stasis.”
“No!” Shari said, eyes wide.
“Oh I like it,” Howi said grimly. “Let them have a bit of fun with them. We had our time. They want to kill aliens? We can give them aliens,” he said nastily.
“I'll see what I can do,” Taylor said and blinked out.
...*...*...*...*...
“We can't!” Yan Fu said when Taylor laid out his plan. “It's immoral!” He was aghast by the carnage. They were all savages. Civilized beings didn't do such things! His wife looked sadly at him. She shook her head.
“It's unethical you mean,” D'red interjected. “I'd think it was illegal, but at this stage...” He shrugged his upper arms. “It is borderline illegal, we'd have to answer for it later.”
Jethro: First to Fight Page 60