“Blighters! That Destroyer’s flying too close to the tow ships! They’re going to crash into their shields,” cried Captain Hammer in shock and dismay.
But to everyone’s surprise, the crazy little Destroyer didn’t crash into the shields of the Battleships towing Silverback’s flagship and its companion. With an incredibly powerful flare of its engines, it disappeared as it slid around to the far side of the Battleships!
“Sensors are detecting weapons discharge from the Ivan,” cried the Sensor Officer, “multiple discharges!”
“I have multiple fighters coming from around the other side of the Battleship and burning hot,” reported a sensor tech.
Like a deadly eagle chasing after a small flock of sparrows, the Ivan also cleared the Battleship its engines looking like they were pushing 80% of a full burn.
“He’s insane! The helmsman of that Destroyer is going to get more than just himself killed,” DuPont said with undisguised admiration—and possibly envy—in his voice.
“Plasma cannons!” I said in a rising voice, prompting Hart to bark furiously into his microphone.
Immediately, glowing blue-and-red plasma balls shot out from the side of the Royal Rage, knocking out a pair of Strike Fighters that only moments before had been destroying bucking cables. Despite the best efforts of Silverback and his ships, those fighters had pulverized several sensor arrays, a communications array, and damaged a gun port on the Aegis Battleship.
“Scratch two fighters!” chortled an assistant Tactical Officer.
There was a stir in the Comm. Section. “Someone’s hacking our coms!” Lisa Steiner said with outrage.
Suddenly the screen on my throne set aside for external com-channels activated, and a wrathful looking Admiral Silverback was glaring back at me with hot eyes.
“You’re a real blighter, Montagne! Not content with breaking my ships, now you’re actively firing at us!” he howled.
“What are you doing on this channel?” I asked coldly and hit the disconnect function. To my surprise, nothing happened, “Hacking the flagship is a court martial-able offence.”
“We’re taking friendly fire and despite the fact I’ve been trying to reach you for the past five minutes, you don’t even put me or Aegis in your eyes enough to take our calls. Hacking is the least of either of our worries at this point,” Silverback sneered, “blast it, man—stop firing at my ship!”
“Is it that you actually want me to cut you loose and hand you over to the enemy on a silver platter, or are you simply as big a fool as you appear, Admiral Silverback?” I asked with genuine outrage. I mean couldn’t this fool see that we’d just saved his ship from being separated from our pack by the Imperial dogs? Perhaps he simply wanted the rest of us to fight—and die—alongside him when the enemy Battleships inevitably caught up with us.
So thinking, I looked at the screen showcasing the enemy Battleships in hot pursuit and I swore. They were much closer than the last time I had looked, and thanks to the actions of these fighters we had almost lost two of our Battleships to severed bucking cables.
“Don’t you dare ignore me, Montagne,” Silverback growled, his face suddenly showing on each and every panel built into my command chair.
“While I have no idea how you managed to hack our network, frankly I still have nothing to say to you except that if you do not stop what you’re doing to my computer system I will give you your wish and not only stop firing at you, I’ll cut every single bucking cable attached to your ship and cut you free!” I pledged angrily. Furious with Silverback, I was also nearly just as angry with our system analysts and their shoddy security. I mean, if a two-bit provincial like Silverback could hack into our network then what could trained Imperial computer techs under Janeski do to us? Although, his success in penetrating our security helped me to understand how Aegis had thought themselves capable of genuinely hacking the ComStat network—a judgment error which had nearly cost the Grand Fleet its existence, and might still do so.
“Your two-bit computer network is slow, ineffective and more than two generations out of date,” Silverback said dismissively. “Combined with the access keys your people routinely gave my computer section after I took command of Sub-Two, the wonder isn’t that my people hacked your system, it’s that there was ever any doubt that we could do it in the first place,” he finished with a sneer.
As the Aegis Admiral finished speaking the, Ivan destroyed the last of the fighters behind the Battleship and turned to drive off the rest of them.
“Ah ha! Got ’em, Sir,” Lisa said with savage satisfaction, “just a second or two and we’ll boot them from our system.”
“No need to fall all over yourself thanking me for saving your ship, Silverback,” I sniffed, and this time when I cut the connection it cut and stayed cut. “Although I swear before the indomitable Saint Murphy himself that I will do everything in my power to save those Battleships of his without pride or prejudice, that man had better pray he dies before I have the chance to get my hands on him,” I said fiercely. “He’s insulted me, disobeyed direct orders, and murdered more of his own people through sheer stupidity and a desire for glory than the enemy ever could have. His only hope for happiness now rests on the other side of death’s doors!”
I was livid, under attack both from without and within, and Silverback deserved my wrath. I knew that I should be the better man. Once again I should step aside and let the insults, violations, and outright defiance pass, turning both cheeks for a good drubbing in the name of politics—but I wasn’t going to. Magnanimity was for officers, gentlemen, and princes that won. When you’re winning you can afford to let people screw you over without stop, but when you’re losing…well, there’s a reason the military has a chain of command. As Murphy was my witness, I was going to try that man for mutiny. And that was only if I had to try him and couldn’t fall back upon summary judgment in the field.
I’d definitely have to speak with Harpsinger. Men, Officers and other Admirals could insult me but when they succeeded in getting my people killed, that’s when I drew the hard line and moved beyond the velvet glove. The time for the iron fist would come—just as soon as we finished surviving the battle, that is.
For a short moment, I grimaced at the depths my own hypocrisy. A true hero would stand firm for truth and justice, saying that what was right was right and what was wrong was wrong, and he’d be done with it. Of course, in all likelihood he would then promptly perish. My grimace disappeared, replaced with a firm resolution. I might not be a true hero, but if I had anything to say about it good would triumph—or at least survive—and the bad guys of our own personal story would perish. I could do no more but, by Murphy, I would do no less. If I couldn’t be a hero then at least I would provide a world where heroes could hope to be born, and that place could never be created by the likes of Janeski—or be run by the likes of Admiral Silverback.
“There he goes!” DuPont said happily, and I looked back up in time to see the Ivan finish a pass along sides of both rear guard Battleships, driving the enemy fighters off.
I really needed to reward whosoever was in charge over on that little Destroyer. My eye for military talent might be lacking when compared to a real Admiral, but even I could see it when it came and smacked the enemy upside the head multiple times before my eyes. Besides, I liked Ivan’s space-cowboy style.
If anything, it reminded me of myself back before I got roped into running an actual fleet.
“The rest of the fighters are breaking. They’re running, Sir!” cried Sensor.
Sensing the moment, I heroically charged into breech in order to claim credit. “We’ve got them on the run!” I cried, standing up and raising a fist. “Watch those blasted Imperials and their lackeys show us their heels!”
The bridge crew cheered. Glancing down and back at the arms of my command throne, I saw that the enthusiasm that started on the flag bridge soon found its way over to the command bridge under Captain Hammer.
“Show �
��em a good fight where we’re not outnumbered four-to-one—even ignoring the tech advantage!--and they’ll run like the cowards they are. Each. And. Every. Time,” I lied without a moment’s hesitation. I had a fleet in desperate retreat and we were being slaughtered. All I could say about it in my defense was that at least we were doing our best to damage our harassers while attempting to escape.
While the bridge gave a second cheer, I could only faintly hear it. Because even as the fighters withdrew with only around half their original strength, my eyes caught and held on the imponderable might of the warships following in their—or, more precisely, in our—wake.
And, wouldn’t you know it, but they were Battleships—fresh ones.
I closed my eyes, cutting off the terrible scene of two formations of enemy warships bearing down on us with all their might. It was two groups of eight, one of which hadn’t even seen battle yet and the other had been given plenty of time to charge shield generators and repair any surface damage they’d taken versus my nine battered stalwarts—two of which were now essentially hulks.
Worse than that, from my perspective was a distant group of fighters streaming from Janeski’s Command Carrier.
Running the calculations, I felt a cold sweat break out on my body. Those Battleships were going to reach us before we crossed the hyper limit—and those fighters were going to be there in time to join one of the waves. But just as bad, from my perspective, was that even with our best estimates to go by we hadn’t been able to time our hyper drives any closer than we had. We had needed extra time after we cleared the hyper limit to slow the ships to a full stop before we jump. As it was, it looked like we had twenty five infernal blasted minutes of slop after we cleared the hyper limit, during which we were going to have to slow our ships to a stop.
We were also past the point of no return on all of our Battleships. So we couldn’t just keep running; we had to stop and calculate the jump because, if we didn’t, the hyper drive would tear itself apart—and us with it.
“We’ll make it,” I swore. In my own mind I amended that statement to saying that, at the very least, some of us would.
I wouldn’t give the Imperial Rear Admiral the satisfaction of taking us all out. I wouldn’t. How I wished I didn’t sound as plaintive in my own mind as I did.
A crushing weight seemed to fall upon me now that we finally had a few minutes of peace, temporary though they were. I could rest when we were dead—or after we’d jumped out of this star system to safety.
With a few minutes to spare, I stopped to do something almost as important as the actual escape: choosing our destination after we fought our way out. ‘When,’ not ‘if.’
It had to be some place that Janeski wouldn’t think to follow us. I thought for a moment and then snapped my fingers. There really was only one choice.
“Let’s do what we can to firm up our formation, people,” I said firmly while looking at the rest of the ships in the Battleship group. Just because it was based around the Battleships didn’t mean, even after the crippling fighter attacks, that we didn’t have lighter warships. The Ivan was a prime example. Even after the losses, our Destroyers had taken we still had more than just a few. However, they were here with us precisely because they didn’t have the legs to keep up with the faster formations.
“Have any of the other warships repaired their engine damage?” I asked, wondering even as I did so if I really wanted to risk sending any Cruiser or Destroyer that had been repaired outside the safety of our current formation while there were still enemy fighters that could catch them away from the rest of us.
“One Cruiser reports its speed is back up to roughly 70% and a pair of Destroyers are that or better,” Hammer reported after looking up the information.
I nodded seriously.
“You aren’t thinking of sending them off on their own, are you?” Hammer asked warily.
“Perhaps not right at this exact minute. But after we cross the hyper limit the Destroyers, especially, could make better time and have the chance to escape if they’re not encumbered by the rest of us,” I pointed out.
“With the enemy still possessing fighters like they do, the timing would need to be well thought out,” Hammer said worriedly.
“That’s why I have a crack bridge team: to give me options,” I said breezily.
The frigid look I got in return rolled off me like water off a duck’s back. After all, that was why they were here: to protect the Confederation, its citizens, fight the enemy, and make sure their fearless leader didn’t make a complete fool out of himself by providing timely back up and support.
“I’ll have the Navigation and the Tactical departments run the numbers,” Leonora Hammer said quellingly.
“Good,” I replied.
The numbers, when they came back, weren’t everything a man could hope. Maybe one or two of the Destroyers could make a run for it, and they probably should depending on the tactical situation. As for the lone Cruiser back up to 70% propulsion, it was just too juicy a target. And throwing in the longer time to build up the charge to jump, compared to the Destroyers, ultimately it needed to stay and take its chances with the rest of the Battleship group.
“Have you made a decision, Sir?” Hammer asked neutrally, her face blank.
I raised an eyebrow and turned to look down at her screen. “If I see the opportunity, I’ll cut loose the Destroyers,” I said simply, to which Hammer nodded.
Then all that was left to do was stare at the screen and rerun the increasingly smaller numbers indicating when the enemy would close to attack range.
Nine ships against sixteen. It was almost two to one odds against us, and two of our number were veritable cripples while the enemy ships were fresher, faster and better armed. It was going to be a chore and a half.
I wasn’t liking our odds.
Chapter Seventy-four: Running the Numbers
“I like our odds, Captain,” said the High Admiral with evident satisfaction.
“I’m not sure that we have enough time to finish them off before they move across the hyper limit and jump,” Captain Goddard said hesitantly. He didn’t want to provoke the High Admiral, but at the same time he felt compelled to point out what might be flaws in his commander’s thinking.
“If the locals have run the numbers so tight that they can jump the moment they cross the hyper limit then they’ll do more damage to themselves from jump explosions than we will,” Janeski said as a rare smile appeared on his face. “If you allow no room in your plans for things such as simple engine failure, let alone enemy action, you’ll reap what you sow.”
“I agree that I doubt they’ll be quite that foolish,” the Flagship Captain said after a moment’s reflection, “even so, I don’t see how we’re going to be able to knock out all nine of those Battleships before they can make the jump, Sir.”
“And there’s the beauty of it, Captain. We don’t have to,” Admiral Janeski expounded. “All we have to do is take down their shields and pound their main hyper dishes to scrap metal. After that we can deal with them at our leisure.”
“Ah,” Goddard said with a sudden, dawning comprehension, “a stimulating plan, Admiral.”
Janeski bared his teeth. “A few may escape to spread the panic and fear that we want to precede the arrival of our fleet but everything else will be swept away,” he said with satisfaction. “Relay the targeting order to the squadron commanders and notify our Marine commandos that they’ll likely be deploying in a number of hostile boarding actions. After all, the Fleet can always use a few more ships of the wall—and as Man is my witness, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“I’ll do so at once,” Goddard said with relish.
Janeski leaned back in his chair master and commander of all he surveyed—all except the soon-to-be-annihilated remnants of the latest ‘Grand Fleet.’
Chapter Seventy-five: Desperate Times
“The first pair of enemy squadrons is beginning their approach now, Sir
,” Captain Hammer said stoically, and for a moment I was taken aback by the tone of genuine respect I was able to pick up in her voice. Maybe I hadn’t been as much of a failure in her eyes during this battle as I was in my own.
On the screen, eight powerful Battleships were arraying in two lines on top of the other and it looked like they were planning to come in at an oblique angle.
I lifted my lip in a sneer. Behind the first line of Battleships was a second line, and if the first group seemed ready to pass to our port the next would definitely go to starboard. And the second line had all those irritating fighters armed with torpedoes. Stuck just beyond the hyper limit, with twice our number of undamaged enemy warships coming up on our rear, I could imagine worse situations in which to engage an enemy—but most of them devolved back to the times of the AI Wars. Those guys had faced some overwhelming odds in order to save humanity. Those guys were real heroes. I was just hoping to live long enough to run away.
There was an old saying: he who fights and runs away will live to run another day. At the moment that particular shoe fit, so I was forced to wear it.
This was the moment of truth.
“Enemy Battleships closing to attack range in thirty seconds,” reported Lieutenant Hart in a dry, factual voice that did nothing to conceal the stress he—and everyone else—felt at that moment.
“I wish we had that fifth fusion generator right about now,” Hammer said stiffly.
“You and me both,” I agreed, and then the enemy was upon us.
Like a raging wall of water determined to crush everything in its path, the enemy Battleships turned slightly so that they could bring their broadsides to bear. And then, acting as one unit, they opened fire.
My greatest fear, that they would concentrate all their fire on a handful of ships, was allayed. Perhaps it was because of the two Aegis battleships towed behind us blocked the easy shots on the rest of us, and they didn’t want to waste their fire on just those soon-to-be hulks that were currently without engines or hyper dish.
Admiral's War Part One Page 40