Wolf's Bane (The Empire's Corps Book 14)

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Wolf's Bane (The Empire's Corps Book 14) Page 21

by Christopher Nuttall


  “I’m preparing to alter course,” she said. Flying the pinnace through the outer edge of the enemy’s point defence zone was probably safe enough - the enemy had other problems - but there was no point in taking chances. The enemy would target the pinnace as soon as they realised what it was doing. “Brace yourself.”

  “Braced,” Peaks said.

  Maggie turned the pinnace, feeling the g-forces tugging at her again. The engineers assured her that they were harmless - just a little bleed-over from the enhanced drives - but she had her doubts. Bleed-over was rare, very rare. It was almost always a warning sign that the compensators were about to fail. She had the nasty feeling she was going to look like she’d lost a fight when she got back to the mothership and tore off her pressure suit. She’d been black and blue after some of the training exercises.

  “Missiles heading to their targets,” Peaks said. “The enemy decoys aren’t working.”

  “Very good,” Maggie said. “Watch for any last minute surprises.”

  “Of course,” Peaks said. “I’m already trying to steer them around the force shields.”

  ***

  “Captain,” the tactical officer said. “The enemy missiles are behaving oddly.”

  Mandy blinked. The enemy had messed up the timing, just a little. Force One - now a twisted mess of its former self - had expended most of its missiles on her decoys, rather than hitting her ships. It was something, at least. She’d managed to get the point defence realigned before Force Two’s missiles roared into their engagement envelope, as well as getting the force shields in place. Combined with the decoys, it should give her a reasonable chance of getting most of her ships out of the trap before it was too late.

  “Explain,” she ordered.

  “They’re not going for the decoys,” the tactical officer said. “They’re heading straight for the ships.”

  “That’s impossible,” Cobb said. “Some of them should be going for the decoys.”

  Mandy shrugged, forcing herself to remain calm. There were very definite advantages to not having been an Imperial Navy officer before the collapse, even if it did come with disadvantages. For one thing, she didn't believe that weapons and defensive technology had reached a point where it could no longer be improved. Or, for that matter, that her technology would always be superior.

  “Adjust the point defence and force shields to compensate,” she ordered. “Take out as many of the missiles as you can.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied the display. The missiles were showing curiously intelligent behaviour, rather than the normal rush to slam themselves into their targets as quickly as possible. They were ignoring the drones, evading the point defence ... even trying to avoid expending themselves uselessly against the force shields. It was almost as though a live human or an advanced tactical computer was directing their flight.

  They’re too far from the warships to be steered remotely, she thought. The speed of light delay would be enough to render orders hopelessly out of date by the time they reached their destination. Unless they’ve somehow managed to improve their communicators ...

  She forced herself to think, watching the missiles roaring towards her ships. There was no way the enemy could steer the missiles from their warships, yet ... yet they were doing it, somehow. Impossible? Or was it a trick of some kind? Surely, if the enemy had made a breakthrough, they would have used it as soon as possible. Improved missile guidance systems might not seem as sexy as advanced weapons and force shields, but they might prove as decisive as logistics.

  “Impact in twenty seconds,” Cobb warned. “Some of the missiles are burning out.”

  “Thank God for small favours,” Mandy said. The enemy hadn’t managed to improve missile drive technology, if nothing else. Dozens of missiles were losing power, either going ballistic as the drive systems failed or being ripped apart by their own engines. They just weren't designed to endure such stress. “Keep an eye on the ballistic missiles, just in case.”

  A new icon popped up in her display. “Captain, this is Armstrong in Tactical,” a voice said, grimly. “We have a theory.”

  Mandy made a face. In hindsight, she should have commanded the battle from the CIC. She couldn’t be both captain and commodore. “Go ahead.”

  “The enemy deployed a small craft with their missile swarm, perhaps more than one,” Armstrong informed her. Mandy glanced at her display as Armstrong sent an update, pointing to a tiny craft skimming around her point defence engagement range. “It’s tiny, but big enough to carry targeting computers and missile uplinks ...”

  “... Shit,” Mandy thought. The concept had been discussed, if she recalled correctly, but it had come to nothing. Everyone had agreed that it was effectively suicide. The tiny craft’s drives would be under immense stress. The slightest mistake would result in utter disaster and the death of the crew. “They made it work?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Armstrong said. “We think they brute-forced their way through the problems.”

  “Devious bastards,” Mandy said. The enemy ships had already launched a second barrage of missiles. “Pass the data to the targeting sensors. Those craft are to be marked priority targets.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Armstrong said. He paused. “They’re out of energy weapons range ...”

  And they’re unlikely to be foolhardy enough to fly into it, Mandy thought. The tiny craft - she felt a flicker of admiration for the pilots - didn’t need to go much closer to her ships to do their job. They were already close enough to see through her ECM and keep the missiles updated. We have to take them out.

  “Tactical, lock shipkillers on them,” she ordered. “Take them out.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Incoming missiles,” Cobb said.

  “All hands, brace for impact,” Mandy snapped.

  She gritted her teeth as the enemy missiles entered terminal attack mode and lunged forward, burning out their drives as they threw themselves on her ships. Laser heads exploded, sending beams of ravening force into her starships; contact nukes slammed against her hulls, damaging her armour and shaking her ships. She shook her head, feeling - again - a flicker of the old terror. On the ground, nuclear warheads were devastating; in space, they were barely noticeable. It didn't look as though the enemy had made any significant improvement to their warheads, thankfully ...

  “Onslaught and Patton have taken heavy damage,” Cobb reported. “Brilliant Light and Dawn of Empire have both been destroyed, along with seven flankers ...”

  Mandy gritted her teeth. Brilliant Light and Dawn of Empire had been battleships, two of the five captured from Admiral Singh. She wasn't surprised they’d soaked up fire, even though they weren’t the deadliest warships in her fleet. Admiral Singh and her peers probably still considered them the queens of the spaceways. And yet, naval combat had moved on. Losing the crew was going to hurt the Commonwealth Navy a great deal worse than losing the ships.

  She forced herself to watch, coldly, as the damage mounted up. Warships could take one hell of a pounding - she knew from bitter experience - but the Wolves had inflicted a great deal of damage. Her point defence had been weakened, perhaps fatally. The next barrage would inflict more damage, the third would inflict more still. And while she’d hurt the enemy, it might not be enough to save her ships ...

  “Continue on our current course,” she ordered. The enemy had taken a pounding too. It wasn't enough to stop them, but it might just give her a chance to escape. “And continue firing.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  ***

  “Two battleships have been destroyed, Admiral,” Julia reported.

  “Good,” Rani said. Technology was advancing, but battleships were still formidable - and intimidating - weapons of war. The Commonwealth Navy hadn't even started building battleships for itself, as far as she could tell. She could see their logic - quantity had a quality all of its own - but she could also see their weaknesses. Their ships couldn't soak up as much damage as hers.
“And the second wave of missiles?”

  “Inbound,” Julia assured her. “The special warheads are in the lead.”

  Rani leaned forward. If the scientists were correct ...

  The enemy has already taken a bloody nose, she told herself, firmly. And now we’re going to crack their skulls.

  ***

  “Captain,” the tactical officer said. “I'm picking up some odd reports from the point defence computers.”

  Mandy glanced at him. “Odd reports?”

  “Yes, Captain,” the tactical officer said. He sounded perplexed - and worried. “Some of the missiles appear to be brushing off direct hits.”

  “What?”

  “They are being hit,” the tactical officer assured her. “They’re just not being taken out.”

  Mandy forced herself to think. Decoys? She’d never heard of an ECM decoy so small it could be mounted on a missile, although the Wolves had proven themselves to be dangerously inventive. Those missile-guiding craft might have tipped the balance of power in their favour. If they’d managed to con her point defences into wasting time firing on decoys instead of real missiles ...

  “Pass the data to Armstrong,” she ordered. It didn't make sense. If the Wolves really had come up with something new, they’d surely have found a better use for it. The prospect of a piece of technology being captured and reverse-engineered was not to be dismissed. Admiral Singh or whoever she’d put in command of the engagement had to be very confident of actually winning. “And ...”

  She braced herself as the missiles closed in. The decoys were doing a damn good job, she had to admit ... yet, there was something odd about the readings. Something that didn't quite make sense. Sometimes, the missiles vanished; sometimes, they just seemed to shrug off the blows and keep going. What were they doing? Something was nagging at the back of her mind, something she’d seen ...

  “Invincible is under heavy attack,” the tactical officer warned. On the display, dozens of missiles were angling towards their target. “She’s altering course to evade enemy fire.”

  “Move Formidable and Defender up to support her,” Mandy ordered. The battlecruiser needed support. She didn't dare risk having her modern ships disabled. They’d have to be abandoned and destroyed before the enemy could capture them. “And then consolidate our formation as Force One falls behind.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Mandy nodded. The enemy had wised up, perhaps. Targeting her heavy cruisers and battlecruisers would cause more harm in the long run. But only five missiles looked likely to make it through Invincible’s defences and slam home. They’d do harm, she knew, but not enough to matter. The missiles struck their target ...

  ... And Invincible vanished from the display.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  For a moment, Mandy flatly refused to believe her eyes.

  Invincible was - had been - a modern battlecruiser. Her hull was composed of the latest alloy of hullmetal, a material that could shrug off a nuclear explosion; her point defence and damage control systems second to none. She and her sisters were the most advanced starships in known space. And yet, she’d been blown into an expanding cloud of debris and plasma by a single hit. It was impossible ...

  It happened, she told herself, sharply. Deal with it!

  She found her voice. “What happened?”

  “The missile exploded inside the ship,” the tactical officer managed. He sounded as shocked as she felt. “It punched through the hull and exploded inside the ship.”

  Mandy stared at him. Hullmetal was the single strongest material known to exist. It had been designed to take a pounding. Even a laser warhead had problems cutting through solid hullmetal. And yet, Invincible had been casually blown to dust. None of the crew had survived. They hadn't had anything like enough warning to take to the boats.

  Her console bleeped. “Captain,” Armstrong said. “We have a theory.”

  “Hit me,” Mandy said.

  “They’ve devised their own force shields,” Armstrong said. “They mounted them on their missiles.”

  “That would be incredibly costly,” Cobb objected.

  “No, sir,” Armstrong said. “The effect wouldn’t last for long, but they could use it to protect a missile and create a ... a force shield that acted like a monofilament blade. They cut through the hullmetal and put a warhead inside the ship.”

  Mandy nodded. It made sense, for the moment. Maybe they’d discover Armstrong was wrong - later - but right now it was the best idea they’d had. And it explained why the missiles had been so resilient. They’d been shooting at force shields instead of decoys. No wonder the missiles had survived.

  “Adjust our point defence patterns to compensate,” she ordered, grimly. It wasn't going to be easy. Hitting a shielded missile meant firing from a different angle ... she’d have to open her formation, which would make her flankers easy targets. “Helm, concentrate on building up speed.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the helmsman said.

  Mandy sat back as the enemy unleashed another wave of missiles. Now they knew what to look for, the sensors could pick out missiles that carried their own force shields ... primitive, compared to the ones that protected Mandy’s ships, but dangerous. She silently complimented Admiral Singh or whoever had come up with the warheads, even though they were devastating her ships. The Commonwealth Navy hadn't even thought of using force shields to punch through hullmetal.

  That will change, she thought. But right now we have to fight without it.

  “We’ll be across the phase limit in one hour,” the helmsman said.

  Mandy nodded. “Pass the word,” she said. “Any starships that cannot keep up with the fleet are to be abandoned, then destroyed.”

  Cobb’s eyes went wide. “Captain ...?”

  “There’s no choice,” Mandy said. She didn't want to leave anyone behind, but she couldn't think of an alternative. The Wolves were relatively civilised, at least. Mandy’s people would go into POW camps, rather than being raped and murdered. “And that includes this ship, Commander.”

  She sat back, watching as the enemy missiles started to close in. There was no point in lying, least of all to herself. The battle was lost. All she could do was extract as many units as possible before the end came. And if that meant sacrificing herself, she’d do it ...

  And the colonel will have to move to another ship, she thought, grimly. I can’t let him fall into enemy hands.

  “Target their small craft,” she ordered, shortly. “See if that gives us some more options.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  ***

  Rani felt a hot flash of exultation as she saw the enemy battlecruiser die. One hit ... one hit had been enough to blow the enemy ship to atoms! Part of her mourned the end of everything she’d learned in the Imperial Navy; the rest of her cheered, knowing it meant that she’d won the battle. The corporate dictators could count their money and play their political games, if they liked. She’d just won the most significant naval engagement of the last fifty years.

  “Continue firing,” she ordered. She didn't have that many special warheads left, but the enemy didn't know that. Besides, she had enough to do more damage before the remaining enemy ships managed to escape. “Aim to cripple the enemy ships.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Julia said.

  A dull shiver ran through the battleship as a missile slammed against her armour. Rani tensed, then relaxed. For now, she had a decisive advantage. It wouldn't last - she briefly considered taking her fleet directly to Avalon, before the Commonwealth learned what had happened at Titlark - but it would be enough. The Commonwealth didn't have missiles that could vaporise an entire battlecruiser with a single shot.

  She forced herself to relax as the enemy ships started to run. They were picking up speed at an alarming rate, but they couldn't outrun her. Unless, of course, the newer ships abandoned the older ships ... Rani wondered, absently, if her opponent had the nerve to do just that. It would be a costly decision, b
ut it would preserve most of her modern firepower.

  “Thunder took four hits in quick succession,” Julia warned. “She’s falling out of formation.”

  “Leave her,” Rani ordered. The cripple was of no concern. Either she survived the battle - in which case she’d be repaired afterwards - or she died, soaking up an enemy missile that might do real damage if it struck a different ship. “Order her crew to do whatever repairs they can.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Rani nodded, watching the display like a hawk. The enemy ships were concentrating their defences, trying to swat down her missiles as they roared towards their targets. It wasn't a bad tactic - the Commonwealth’s point defence systems were irritatingly good - but it wasn't enough to stop the special missiles. She was more concerned about the way they were angling their force shields. Her missiles would have to get ahead of them, somehow, if they wanted to strike their targets.

 

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