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

by Christopher Nuttall

  And the command and control craft worked like a dream, she thought, wryly. The enemy took a beating they weren't expecting.

  She allowed her smile to widen. She’d won. Whatever happened, she’d won. No one could take that from her ...

  ... And, when she got home, she could settle accounts with her enemies.

  ***

  “The next wave of missiles is entering control range,” Peaks reported.

  Maggie nodded as she swung the pinnace back towards the enemy ships. Red lights kept flickering up in front of her eyes, only to vanish before she could come to grips with them. It was obvious that the drive units were under considerable pressure, but thankfully - so far - they appeared to be coping. The enemy ships were in a much worse state. As she watched, a destroyer fell out of formation and exploded into a ball of flame.

  “Take control,” she ordered, pushing the craft forward. She felt, just for a second, as through someone had punched her in the belly. She was definitely going to be black and blue afterwards. “Get them to their targets.”

  “There's a solid wall of force shields blocking them,” Peaks said. Maggie could hear the frustration in his voice as he grappled with the control systems. “They’re blocking a straight-line flight path.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” Maggie said. “You’ll just have to be a little twisty to get them in.”

  Peaks muttered something unpleasant, just loud enough for her to hear, as he struggled with his console. A wave of ... something ... passed through the ship, making them both yelp in pain. Maggie clenched her teeth against the sensation, trying to remain focused on flying the pinnace. They were already alarmingly close to the enemy’s point defence engagement range.

  And they might manage to pick us off with a lucky shot, Maggie thought. The pinnace was tougher than the average missile, but flimsy compared to a destroyer, let alone a full-sized battleship. A single hit would probably be enough to disable the craft, if they were lucky ... she knew, all too well, that their chances of survival were minimal. We’re definitely too close to them.

  “Got the missiles roaring forward, then dropping back,” Peaks reported. “It’s not perfect, but ...”

  “No,” Maggie agreed. The force shields weren't bubbles. The enemy would have a fair shot at the unshielded parts of the missile as they flew past, then reversed course. “I ...”

  She cursed as her threat receiver lit up, screaming the alert. Two missiles - full-sized shipkillers - were heading directly for the pinnace. She stared in disbelief, then hastily altered course as the missiles closed in. Using shipkillers against her pinnace was massive overkill, but it was the only realistic tactic ... she reminded herself, again, that the Commonwealth was revoltingly ingenious.

  “They really don't like us,” Peaks observed. Maggie felt her head start to spin. She hadn't felt so bad since she’d flown in an aircraft during basic training. The pilot had been a madman and the craft itself probably predated the Empire. “I ... fuck it ...”

  Maggie heard him vomiting behind her. She clenched her mouth shut, resisting the urge to throw up herself. The entire craft was spinning ... yet her sensors insisted they weren’t spinning. She held on to the control stick, trying to keep her distance from the missiles. If they detonated too close to her, she would be in real trouble ...

  The missiles exploded. Maggie flew straight for as long as she dared, bracing herself even though she knew it was silly. They’d been just far enough from the blast to survive. She allowed herself a sigh of relief, turning the craft slowly in space. Her head was still spinning ... she felt a stab of pain that seemed to knife right through her.

  “Fuck,” Peaks said. He coughed, helplessly. “Can we go home now?”

  Maggie tried to ignore the stench drifting through the air. “I don’t know,” she said, as she checked the display. They’d flown some distance away from the battle during their desperate flight from the missiles. “I ...”

  She pushed the stick forward. An instant later, alarms started to sound. The drive field was twisting out of shape, lashing against the hull itself. Radiation alarms were going off ... she felt her skin start to crawl, even though she knew that losing drive containment would have killed them both instantly. And yet ... she stared in disbelief, then grabbed for the ejection lever as the hull started to crack and shatter under the impact. But it was too late ...

  ***

  “They’ve taken out the pinnaces,” Julia reported. “Our missiles are reverting to their normal attack patterns.”

  “Understood,” Rani said. She’d hoped to keep the secret a little longer, but the enemy weren't stupid. She had known they’d figure out what was happening and take countermeasures. It was unfortunate that it had happened so quickly, but it couldn't be helped. “Continue firing.”

  She smiled, coldly, as the enemy fleet continued its retreat. A number of ships would make it over the phase limit and escape - she rather suspected that couldn't be helped, unless the enemy decided to reverse course and go down fighting - but they would have taken one hell of a beating. Hell, they had taken one hell of a beating. She’d been hammered too, but she had far more ships to deploy against them. Given a couple of months - first to stamp her dominance on Wolfbane and then to gather the rest of her fleet - she could strike directly at Avalon. It would be risky, but the risk had already been minimised.

  And after Avalon falls, the rest of the Commonwealth will wither and die, she told herself.

  “They’re redeploying drones,” Julia warned. “We cannot isolate them from the enemy starships at this range.”

  “And we don’t have any more pinnaces,” Rani sighed. It was unfortunate, but it couldn't be helped. She made a mental note to ensure that the pinnace crews were remembered with honour. They’d helped her win the battle and the war. “Deploy additional drones and sensor platforms of our own.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Rani leaned back in her chair. It was a stern chase now - and a stern chase was always a long chase - but the enemy were definitely in retreat. And they couldn’t outrun her without abandoning their slower comrades. A handful of cripples had already been abandoned, lagging behind the main enemy fleet. Maybe they’d surrender or maybe they’d just try to strike a final blow before they were blown away ... it didn't matter. Either way, she’d already won.

  “Launch SAR shuttles to pick up the enemy crews,” Rani ordered. Having prisoners to parade back home would go down well. Perhaps she could march them down the street, showing the population that the enemy were not gods. Technologically advanced or not, they could be beaten. “And inform the infantry that the prisoners are to be treated well, as long as they behave.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Julia said.

  ***

  “They’re continuing to fire,” the tactical officer reported. “But our drones are proving far more effective now.”

  “Good,” Mandy said. She hoped the drones would even the odds a little. She’d already lost too many ships. Two battleships, three battlecruisers, five heavy cruisers, nineteen flankers ... she’d lost more tonnage, in a single engagement, than the entire navy had lost in eighteen months of war. “Keep angling them to soak up enemy fire.”

  She forced herself to remain calm. The enemy had scored a victory, but she would get most of her ships out of the trap. And yet, the damage was continuing to mount up. Her crews would need weeks, if not months, to restore her ships to their former condition. The original plan - to head directly to Wolfbane - would have to be scrapped. She wasn't sure if they shouldn't just reverse course and retreat to Avalon as soon as they crossed the phase limit.

  “Magnificent just lost two drive nodes,” Cobb said, quietly. “She’s at risk of losing a third.”

  “Order her to hold position as long as possible.” Mandy ordered. “And if she does lose a third drive node ...”

  She winced, inwardly. Captain Patel had been one of her friends, back when she’d been living with the RockRats. Like her, he’d been promoted
rapidly as the Commonwealth Navy struggled to build up its manpower base. And yet ... she didn't want to abandon him, but she knew she might have no choice. She couldn't sacrifice the entire fleet for one man.

  “If she falls out of formation,” she ordered, “she is to be abandoned and scuttled.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Cobb said.

  Mandy hated herself at that moment, hated the person she’d become. She couldn't think of her friends as numbers, she couldn't sacrifice them for the greater good ... and yet, she had no choice. She had no choice ... she told herself, again and again, that she had no choice. But she didn't want to believe it. She felt as though she was betraying the young man she’d met and befriended, years ago. He’d been fun ...

  And now he might die, she thought. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  On the display, the enemy fleet belched yet another volley of missiles.

  ***

  “Admiral,” Julia said. “We’re starting to run out of missiles.”

  Rani turned to glower at her. “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head in irritation before Julia could try to think of an answer. Of course Julia was sure. Missile loads were automatically tracked and monitored by the fleet’s datanet. If the fleet was running out of missiles ...

  “Order the fleet to continue firing,” she ordered.

  She brought up the data on her console and studied it, grimly. Her ships had expended ninety percent of their missiles during the engagement. Imperial Navy tactical doctrine called for keeping at least five percent as a reserve at all times, just in case the fleet ran into something it couldn't handle. And yet, if she gave the order to end the engagement ...

  “We could try to reload,” Julia suggested. “The base’s missile stockpiles are largely intact.”

  “Not during an engagement,” Rani said.

  Her lips quirked in bitter amusement. She’d been a very junior officer when Admiral Ying had tried to do just that during an exercise, showing off his crew’s skills. The resulting explosion had severely damaged a battleship and destroyed a replenishment ship. Ying had been put in front of a court martial and cashiered. He would have been shot if he hadn't been very well connected. It said something about just how badly he’d screwed up that his connections hadn’t been enough to save him from a dishonourable discharge.

  “Keep firing until we reach five percent, then hold fire,” she ordered, curtly. The enemy might guess the problem, but she doubted they’d be keen to reverse course and continue the engagement. They’d be running short too. “And alert the fleet train. We’ll need to reload our magazines as quickly as possible.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Julia said.

  Rani watched, feeling oddly numb, as the missile fire slacked, then wilted altogether. The enemy ships kept moving, not even slowing long enough to try to determine if they were being tricked. As soon as they crossed the phase limit, they vanished ... she knew she could continue to chase the enemy ships, but the odds of catching them were very low.

  I won, she thought, as the last enemy ship flickered into phase space. I won ...

  “Signal all ships,” she ordered. “Stand down from battlestations, then start repairs.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Julia said.

  “And send a further signal,” Rani added. She smiled, coldly. “Today, we met the enemy ... and kicked his ass.”

  It was not, she admitted, the most dignified of statements. But she felt it fitted.

  And besides, after the victory, no one would dare to suggest otherwise.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Nineteen ships destroyed, nine more damaged so badly that they’ll have to be sent home,” Mandy said, quietly. “The remainder took varying levels of damage too.”

  Ed nodded. He could hear the bitter self-reproach in her words, mingled with the grim awareness that some armchair admiral back home was likely to blame her for the entire catastrophe. She was probably right, he thought. There had never been any shortage of people willing to question the military’s decisions from hundreds of light-years away, even though they rarely had any real military experience. Even Avalon had a handful of armchair admirals on staff.

  He shook his head, slowly, as he studied the display. He’d seen devastation before, far too many times. He’d seen cities blighted by war, he’d seen towns and villages levelled for being in the wrong place at the wrong time ... he’d watched, helplessly, as countless bodies were lowered into mass graves and buried, their names and faces left unrecorded. And yet, looking at the damaged starships, he couldn't help feeling a shiver running down his spine. The Empire had lost battles, but it had never lost the war; the Commonwealth, smaller and poorer, might just have lost the war.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, quietly.

  “I was in command,” Mandy said. “It was my fault.”

  Ed gave her a reassuring look, although he knew it wouldn't be enough. No one had seen the trap until the jaws had begun to swing shut. Mandy had walked right into it, true, but so had everyone else. How had Admiral Singh even known to set the trap? Only a handful of people had known that Titlark was the target, none of whom would have talked. And yet, Admiral Singh - Ed was mortally sure Admiral Singh had been in command - had definitely set a trap. She wouldn't have bothered to cloak her ships if she hadn't been expecting to be attacked.

  Either something leaked, somehow, or she didn't fall for the deception, he thought, pushing the matter aside. It would require careful consideration, later. Right now, we have more important concerns.

  He looked at Mandy. “How badly did we hurt them?”

  “We wiped out two of Force One’s battle squadrons,” Mandy said, reciting from figures that were burned into her mind. Ed knew that sensation all too well. “The third took a beating - I suspect it’ll be disbanded altogether. We also took out seven or eight ships from Force Two and damaged a number of others, although it’s harder to be sure. And we devastated the base.”

  Ed saw a flicker of horror cross her face and nodded in understanding. Killing enemy combatants had never been a problem - and he had no trouble whatsoever with killing terrorists - but slaughtering non-combatants had always hurt. Cold logic told him that the base and its personnel needed to be removed - not killed, removed - yet his heart told him that slaughtering them would be wrong. They were marines, not monsters. And Mandy didn't have anything like his experience ...

  “Titlark won’t be supporting the war effort for a while,” Ed said, coolly. That was something, at least. Not enough to make up for the disaster - and it had been a disaster - but perhaps it could be spun as a victory. “How long until the fleet is ready to move?”

  Mandy gave him a sharp look. “Apart from the ships that need to be sent home, we can repair most of the damage within the next ten days,” she said. “But sir ... is there any point in launching a second attack?”

  “Not on Titlark,” Ed agreed. They’d been rumbled. He didn't know how, but it had happened. Admiral Singh would have ordered convoys to avoid the planet, whatever the outcome of the engagement. Going back and smashing what was left of the base would be highly satisfying, but militarily useless. “We may have to go elsewhere.”

  Mandy looked tired. “There are no other reasonable targets for dozens of light-years,” she said. Her eyes flickered around the CIC. “Where do you want to go?”

  “We’ll discuss that later,” Ed said. “For now, get the repair crews to work and then get some sleep.”

  “I can’t sleep,” Mandy protested. She yawned, despite herself. “Colonel, I have to be awake and ...”

  She yawned, again. Ed hid his grim amusement with an effort. Mandy had been awake for nearly thirty-six hours, perhaps longer. She’d have drunk enough coffee - perhaps even taken a stimulant - to be seeing things by now. He’d done it himself, back when he’d been a young officer. It had never been a pleasant experience.

  “Go to your cabin and sleep,” Ed said. “That’s an order.”

  Mandy
could have argued that she was the captain, that no one could give her orders on her ship. Instead, she turned and shuffled off. Ed watched her go, feeling a flicker of grim concern. Mandy had made at least one mistake, even though it was probably not the one she was blaming herself for. Trying to command both the ship and the fleet at the same time had been a mistake. And it was one she should have corrected long ago.

  You felt the same way too, he reminded himself. It was a bitter thought, but one he had to accept. You wanted to be commander of the company, even as you were commander of an entire military.

  He sighed as he checked the datapad. The list of missing, dead and wounded was growing longer as bodies were recovered or confirmed missing. Over two thousand officers and crew had already been reported dead and the list was still growing. It wasn't the end of the world, he knew, but it felt that way. The Commonwealth Navy had had its collective butt soundly kicked.