The Pride of the Damned (Cochrane's Company Book 3)

by Peter Grant

  In a short while, Bobcat reported, “We can’t find any survivors from Caracal, sir.” Even over the flat, crackling radio circuit, profound sadness was evident in her commanding officer’s voice. “As for Margay, she has over fifty per cent casualties, mostly fatal, and she can’t move under her own power. I’m transferring her survivors to my ship and Lynx, sir. Over.”

  “Very well. We’ve no ferry, and we can’t leave her as evidence that we were here. As soon as you’re confident all her survivors have been recovered, put a demolition charge aboard her, set the timer for half an hour, and get clear. Over.”

  “Aye aye, sir. What about Jaguarundi? Over.”

  “We can move under our own power, and the Engineering Officer says we’re good to hyper-jump, too. We can make it back to Constanta. We’ll transfer some of our wounded to other ships for treatment, so as not to overload what’s left of our facilities.”

  “Understood, sir. I’ll let you know when the demolition charge is set.”

  “Thank you. We’ll wait nearby to make sure it blows, then we’re out of here.”

  Frank turned to the Plot operator. “What are the destroyers and depot ship from the planet doing?”

  “Sir, they were joined by three patrol craft. They all turned around together, and they’re heading back to New Skyros orbit.”

  Frank’s lips twisted briefly. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the Brotherhood’s anchor watch crews aboard those ships. They would be inconvenient witnesses, so the odds were pretty good that they’d either been – officially, at least – ‘killed in the fight to recapture the stolen vessels’, or would soon face execution. Captain Kokinos would take credit for his service’s performance in ‘detecting a plot to steal the detained ships’, and thwarting it ‘using only their own resources’. He’d doubtless receive hundreds of millions of drachmas as his share of the prize money, and a honking great medal to boot. That should make his retirement a lot more comfortable, and propel him to an easy victory when he stood for election to the Hellenic Parliament next year.

  Frank’s face tightened in renewed sorrow. The Captain’s likely electoral success had been paid for with the blood of his squadron’s spacers. He didn’t begrudge Kokinos his medals or prize money, particularly after Hawkwood had recently made so much at the Brotherhood’s expense. The captain’s assistance had made it possible for them to wipe out the larger part of the Brotherhood’s armed spacecraft, so he’d earned his reward… but at a terrible price in lives and ships. At least, if Dave Cousins could take out the rest of the Brotherhood’s fleet, Hawkwood’s problems would be even further reduced. He must be about to strike at their hidden base, if he hadn’t already done so.

  After that, there would only be the enemy’s people to deal with – and that was in the hands of other actors in this long-drawn-out struggle. Hawkwood would be a spectator for once.

  25

  Invasion

  HCS LARKSPUR

  As the ship made her final hyper-jump and entered the nameless system containing the Brotherhood’s base, Dave Cousins reflected yet again that a corvette’s Operations Center was really too small and too cramped to exercise task force command. He could fit behind her command console with her skipper, Lieutenant-Commander Bruce Urquhart, but there was no room for his abbreviated command staff. They had to sit in the adjacent (and also too small) conference room, from where they could peer into the OpCen through its open door. It was not very satisfactory.

  He glanced across at the Plot display. Sure enough, the other four ships in this group had also made the transition. They were still spread wide apart, having taken up intervals of two million kilometers before the jump, to allow for navigational and other errors and avoid exiting it too close together. Now they would join up in tight formation. The arsenal ship Sorubim would be in the center, with four corvettes around her. Larkspur would lead the formation, with Aconite and Wolfsbane on the port and starboard wings, while Amanita would bring up the rear.

  The other vessels of the task force were not yet visible in the Plot display, thanks to light speed delay. Still, he knew that the Qianjin corvette Xinyang would have appeared at the northern pole of the system boundary. There she would download the latest data from the nearby surveillance drone and transmit it to both this eastern group, and the western group under Captain Liao, currently arriving at the opposite edge of the system boundary. It comprised the arsenal ship Payara II, the Hawkwood corvette Castor to provide fire control for her missiles, and the Qianjin corvettes Jieyang, Bengbu, and Captain Liao’s flagship, Meizhou. All the Qianjin ships were named for towns or suburbs on that planet, which were in turn named for locations in China on Old Home Earth.

  Dave watched silently as the icons in the Plot moved toward each other. Beside him, Lieutenant-Commander Urquhart exchanged data through his command console with the Weapons Officer, making sure that they were in agreement on fire plans.

  As soon as the formation was formed, he said, “Mind if I get things moving, Bruce?”

  “Be my guest, sir,” Urquhart replied with a grin.

  “Thank you. Command to Communications. Signal all ships, ‘Formation will proceed as planned at zero-nine-hundred. Speed of advance point-two-five Cee, course two-seven-zero, two-six-three. Keep station on Larkspur.’ Read back, please.”

  “Communications to Command, I read back.” The operator repeated what he’d been told.

  “Command to Communications, good copy. Send it.”

  Urquhart called, “Command to Plot. Give us a closer look at the second planet, please.”

  “Plot to Command, aye aye, sir.”

  The operator changed the three-dimensional display to a close-up view of the emissions signatures detected around the airless planet. There was one very large signature nearest to the planet. Two more circled further out, and there were a number of tiny dots that must be small craft.

  “They won’t have seen us yet,” Dave said as he looked at the activity. “Light speed delay means they won’t notice our arrival for another hour or so.”

  “By which time we’ll be a lot closer.” Urquhart’s voice was redolent with satisfaction. “It’s nice to be the ones to catch them on the hop for once, sir.”

  “I can’t argue with you there.”

  At nine precisely, Urquhart set his ship in motion. Dave watched as the others fell into place behind Larkspur, moving quickly and professionally into position. He knew that on the far side of the system, Captain Liao’s force would be doing the same. In the north of the system, Xinyang would have taken control of the surveillance drone. She would now be driving it down toward the planet at full speed, running ahead of her, using its sensors to look for any nasty surprises that might be waiting for the attacking forces. If any were found, she’d alert them at once.

  “What do you think they’re going to do, sir?” the skipper asked.

  “Only they know. We know what we think they’re going to do, and we know what we’d prefer them to do, and we know what we want to do, but they get a say as well. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  BROTHERHOOD ARMED FREIGHTER BUTRANTI

  Commander Nikolla burst into the bridge, still buttoning his jacket. “What is it?” he demanded breathlessly over the trilling note of the alarms still resounding throughout the ship.

  “Unknown ships detected, sir!” the Officer of the Deck reported crisply. “Five vessels have appeared at the eastern system boundary, and the same number at the west, plus one to system north. The eastern and western forces are moving into close formation.” He gestured to the Plot display, where the icons representing the unknown vessels’ gravitic drive emissions were displayed. “That was at least an hour ago, sir, thanks to light speed delay, so I presume they’re heading for us right now.”

  “They’d hardly be going anywhere else, would they?” his skipper demanded in an angry growl.

  “Ah… no, sir.”

  “Very well. I relieve you, Lieutenant. Get to yo
ur action station as fast as you can.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” The young man ran out of the bridge.

  Nikolla did up the final button of his jacket as he stepped over to the Plot, staring into it intently. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. Ten – no, with the ship to the north, eleven vessels were closing on them. They would not know how fast they were moving until the passage of time gave them more data, but they could only be here with hostile intent. After all, the only ships that had any reason to be here were those of the Brotherhood. If the new arrivals could equal Butranti’s performance, that gave them a speed of point-two-five Cee – perhaps more, if they were warships. His blood ran cold as he thought, They’ve already been under way for an hour. That means they might be here in three hours from now!

  He turned away from the Plot and sat down at the command console, mind racing furiously as the last members of his combat team ran into the bridge and took their places. There was no point in trying to flee. The refinery ship, Bashkim Bregija, renamed for their beloved Patriarch after his death in battle, was already an old freighter when they’d bought her two decades before. Even back then, she could only manage a speed of one-twelfth Cee. After conversion to a refinery vessel, and many years spent in orbit around this planet, it was doubtful she could make even one hyper-jump without something breaking down. She was certainly too slow to outrun the sort of pursuit that was bearing down on them.

  All right, he thought. Our only option is to defend the refinery ship – but how? What tactics will be best, when I do not know what these ships are, or how much of a threat they are? What is worse, ten billion francs worth of the Brotherhood’s gold is in Bashkim Bregija’s holds. We gathered it up and put it there last month, on Agim Nushi’s orders. We must defend that at all costs – but how? Her captain is old, a merchant skipper, not a fighting man. He will not have the guts to resist, if it comes to that.

  In swift decision, he picked up the microphone from his console and pressed a key combination. “Engineering, send Lieutenant Nikolla to the bridge immediately. Acknowledge.”

  The Chief Engineer’s voice replied. “I shall send him at once, sir!”

  “Thank you, Halil.” He glanced around, to ensure that none of his bridge crew were close enough to overhear him, and lowered his voice. “There is one more thing.” He explained what he needed, quickly and quietly.

  “I will do it, sir. In the Patriarch’s name!”

  “In the Patriarch’s name.”

  That is a good man, the Commander thought as he put down the microphone. He asks no stupid questions, merely obeys.

  “Communications, signal Skodar to come to general quarters, if she is not there already, and stand by for further orders.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  He frowned as he recalled Skodar’s limitations. She carried even more missiles than his ship, but they were all old, very limited in range and performance. After Hawkwood had destroyed two of the Brotherhood’s old-model destroyers – with the Patriarch aboard, curse them! – the decision had been made to scrap the other two, since they were obviously unfit for combat against more modern vessels. However, due to the Brotherhood’s desperate shortage of modern weapons and systems, they had stripped the destroyers of theirs and kept them in reserve. When one of their new armed freighters, Ilaria, had disappeared while attacking Hawkwood’s operations in the Mycenae system, they’d installed the old missiles and systems aboard Skodar to replace her. Their limitations meant that she was nowhere near as capable as Butranti.

  On the other hand, most of Hawkwood’s ships were corvettes. If that’s what these intruders were, they would carry smaller, shorter-ranged missiles than a destroyer’s weapons, and a lot fewer of them than larger warships. He should be able to give them a real fight. He would certainly try. Now, how best to do that?

  His brother burst through the door, and snapped to attention beside his command console. “You sent for me, sir?”

  He looked at the smartly turned out Lieutenant with pride. His younger brother had followed him into the Patriarch’s service, and tackled his duties every day with energy, enthusiasm and dedication. He only wished others aboard Butranti would follow his example. Sadly, such fire and drive were exceptional.

  “Come into the conference room for a moment, Lieutenant.”

  When he had closed the door behind them, he embraced the younger man with real warmth and affection. “Xhafer, I have a very hard job for you.”

  Xhafer’s eyes shone with pride. “Whatever it is, Burim, I shall not let you down!”

  “I know that. That is why I sent for you. There are eleven ships bearing down on us. I think they are individually a lot weaker than this ship or Skodar; but collectively, they may give us a hard fight.”

  His brother’s face grew hard. “We are not afraid of that. Let us show them our steel!”

  “We shall indeed! However, there is one precaution I must take, in case the worst should happen. You have not been told that last month, Agim Nushi ordered all our gold reserves to be gathered from their hiding places throughout this system, and brought to Bashkim Bregija. Sixty billion francs worth was dispatched to Neue Helvetica aboard a courier vessel, to be converted into currency. The remaining ten billion francs worth is still aboard the refinery ship. If… if the enemy prevails, we must not let him steal our patrimony. He would use it to strengthen himself. We cannot permit that.”

  “But… if that is all we have left…”

  “As long as the Brotherhood exists, we can start all over again, if we have to. Our strength is not in our money, or even in our missiles. It is in our people, and their dedication to our Patriarch and his vision.”

  Xhafer’s eyes shone with renewed resolve. “You are right, as always, brother!”

  “I merely follow our Patriarch’s example. He did not flinch even from death in battle at an advanced age, in order to set an example for all of us who follow him. You and I can do no less. However, Commander Thanas is an older man, and a merchant spacer. He is an adequate skipper for a refinery ship, but does not have the discipline and drive that we look for in those who command our warships. What is more, his crew – and some of those aboard Skodar, too, and even a few of mine – are not as committed as we are to our Patriarch’s vision. All our best, most dedicated spacers were drafted for the New Skyros mission. Their places were taken by… shall we say, less dedicated men, many of them third-rate contract spacers from Keda.

  “I sent all of the Kedans to the refinery ship, and drafted all of its most reliable Brotherhood spacers to our armed vessels: but now that the enemy is here, that may backfire on us. I am not sure whether Commander Thanas and his weaker-willed crew can be trusted to do what may become necessary.” He took a deep breath. “That is where you come in.” He explained in short, crisp sentences. “Will you do this, brother? I ask it in the Patriarch’s name, because there is no-one I trust more to accomplish it if necessary.”

  There were tears in Xhafer’s eyes. “I shall, brother, if it should come to that.”

  “Thank you, brother. The Patriarch himself would be proud of you.” They embraced. “Go to the Chief Engineer. He will tell you what to do. After that, you must follow events and use your best judgment.”

  “I shall do my best, whatever happens. Go with God, Burim!”

  “Go with God, Xhafer.”

  The Commander settled down behind his console again as his brother hurried out of the bridge compartment. He paused, deliberately emptying his mind of all distractions, then focused on the problem at hand.

  “Communications, signal all small craft to head for Bashkim Bregija and dock with her. They are not to return to their parent vessels, but wait there until this engagement is over.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  That will give Xhafer the cover story he needs. Now for the enemy. “Plot, give me an update on what our visitors are doing.”

  “Sir, they are moving toward us from the east and from the west, and
their lone ship to the north is heading this way too. Another source of gravitic drive emissions is in front of her, probably a drone.”

  “Thank you. Weapons, prepare all missiles and stand by.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  As the Commander entered figures and ran calculations on his console, the Plot operator said hesitantly, “Ah… sir, one of our small craft has just left the ship.”

  “Yes, I know about that. It’s authorized.”

  “Understood, sir.” The operator’s voice was relieved.

  Commander Nikolla kept his face expressionless, but inwardly he was amused. He probably thought someone was deserting, trying to get away from the fight. Little does he know!

  QNS MEIZHOU

  Captain Liao glanced at the Plot display once more. His ship led the western formation, with her sister corvettes Jieyang and Bengbu respectively on the port wing and astern. The Hawkwood arsenal ship, Payara II, and her attached corvette, Castor, were in the center and on the starboard wing.

  He mused for a moment on the modifications Hawkwood had made to the original corvette design that Qianjin had purchased. With the exception of Amanita, their first ship of the class, all Hawkwood’s corvettes were several frames longer, providing additional accommodation for boarding or damage control parties, an enlarged sick bay, and extra storage, increasing their endurance. More important, their longer hulls allowed full-size destroyer sensor arrays to be fitted, instead of the smaller ones carried by earlier-model corvettes. He had seen for himself, during training for this mission, that the larger arrays conferred a significant improvement in performance. Hawkwood had also bought and retrofitted much more powerful fire control computers, enabling even a single corvette to control and direct the much larger missile load of an arsenal ship.

  Not for the first time, Liao conceded that Hawkwood, even thought it was ‘only’ a private space security company, was equal to or better than many planetary System Patrol Services when it came to professionalism, innovation and expertise. The arsenal ship concept had been tried and discarded by many fleets over the centuries, because its operational command and control had proven too difficult, and the ‘too many eggs in one basket’ problem had reared its head. Hawkwood had used its super-corvettes to solve those problems in the context of its simpler security operations, giving it the equivalent of cruiser firepower at a fraction of the cost. Furthermore, Qianjin’s Fleet was building on Hawkwood’s innovative frigate design, with its fewer but much larger missiles, to develop a super-destroyer or light cruiser along the same lines, carrying more of the same missiles.