by Chris Hechtl
“But you are working on firing solutions now?” the Beta bull pressed.
“As we speak my subherd is generating a target list. Do you wish to go by the largest or closest habitats? Be advised, Herd Leader, some are moving around erratically.”
“Target those that are closest and not moving. Fire into them, then target those ships clustered … here,” he said, indicating the herd of ships that seemed to be moving towards them.
“It will take some time to set up the shot. Be warned, we will be firing a lot of shots. It will sap our magazine down to dangerous levels.”
The ship's Alpha bull looked ready to object, but the Beta bull just grunted. “Send me your list before you fire.”
“As you command, Herd Leader.”
~~*^*~~
“And now it's up to us. Lucky us,” Admiral Kepler murmured. The first battle of Sol had been a short brutal massacre for the defenders. Constitution was a dead stick; her people had finally gotten a good enough look at her to tell them that she was done. The battered destroyer was slowly drifting out into deep space. Her CIC had a track on her, but they could easily lose her as the range opened she knew. There was no way she could get a SAR shuttle out to them or any of them in time to do any good.
CIC had reported that after careful examination over the course of four hours that the other ships in Constitution's task force were either destroyed or so crippled that they were derelicts anyway. If there was any surviving crew, they would be smart just to lie low until the enemy passed them she thought.
“Ma'am, the enemy battleship is firing,” CIC reported.
“Is it firing on us?” Jan asked before she realized how stupid that question was. If the ship had fired on them, they'd have less than a second or two from when it fired to know it.
“No, ma'am. There it goes again …”
They watched for a full ten minutes as the battleship fired every ten seconds. A mass was moving out at 10 percent the speed of light, so it had to be a kinetic strike. “It is firing on the habitats and stations, starting with those nearest them.”
“Damn,” the admiral murmured as the ship finished firing. There was nothing she could do to help those people. Nothing at all.
“Admiral! It is now orienting on us.”
She immediately lunged forward in her seat. “Comm, all ships in Argus group. Jink! Evasive action, jink. I say again, jink now! Deploy ECM and decoys!”
~~*^*~~
“Herd leader, we have lost lock on the ships,” the sensor technician reported.
“How? How is that possible?” the Beta bull demanded.
“They have deployed some sort of jamming to confuse our long-range sensors. Also …,” the bull pointed to the plot, “there are more of them than there was a moment ago. We can't tell where they are in the fuzz, and we can't tell which are the real ships and which are the false ones.”
“False ones,” the Beta bull echoed, staring at the plot. “Clever,” he said grudgingly. “We'll have to close then. Get in until we can see them with other sensors.”
“As you command, Herd Leader,” the ship's Alpha bull replied.
~~*^*~~
Roman closed his eyes in pain as he noted the exchange rate. Fourteen warships to destroy one of the enemy cruisers. At that rate … he grimaced.
“Thoughts, General? Or are you accessing your implants? If so, sorry,” a familiar gruff voice asked.
“No, sir. Just … not happy about the exchange rate,” he said as he opened his eyes to look at the president.
“I know. I feel for those sailors and their families,” President Camp replied. “What gets me is, if they had that weapon, why didn't they use it on Speedwell? Or Magellan for that matter?”
“You're asking that question now, sir?” the general asked with a shake of his head.
“I'm down to twiddling my thumbs and pacing,” the president replied dryly, making a show of wiggling his thumbs. “Or thumb wrestling.”
Roman snorted. “Cute.”
“I am curious. Ideas?”
“Well, I don't want to ask the experts. Off the top of my head, it might be a range thing. They want a guaranteed hit or they were conserving ammunition.”
President Camp rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he slowly nodded. “Possible. Even probable since we don't have better information, and it's not like they are talking.”
“Oh, they are talking all right, sir. They fired a bombardment on the outer colonies. A quarter of the rounds hit their targets,” Roman replied as he got the information.
The Neochimp commander in chief sucked in a protesting breath. “Bad?”
“You have no idea, Mister President. And we're just getting started.”
“Frack.”
“My sentiments exactly, sir.”
~~*^*~~
The battleship's Alpha bull shook his head as he studied the enemy forces. The second force had been trying to make rendezvous with the first they had encountered. When the first had been destroyed, the enemy had slacked their speed and then reshaped their course to meet up with other ships coming up from astern.
It was frustrating to be able to see them, yet not hit them. They'd lost a solid lock on the ships with all the noise coming from those ships. The Tauren ships relied on slow-firing spinal mount energy weapons and kinetic weapons as their primary weapons. The X-ray lasers cycled in eight seconds while the rail guns took an eight and three-eighths to fully cycle between shots. His ship had six gravity missiles, but they were far too dangerous to fire and required special permission to use. The rail gun turrets for point defense and close action fire were effective … when used properly.
One thing he had noted was that the enemy had weapons that fired faster and cycled between shots far quicker than his own ship. That burned a little.
The battleship's main guns had torn through the ships, however, shattering right through their shields and right through each of her targets with ease. Several of the alien ships had been hit from behind as they had tried to retreat; the round had gone from their stern right out the bow, gutting them like a fish.
“Bombardment analysis complete. Targeting was suboptimal for ranged targets,” the weapons bull reported.
“Oh?” the Fleet Herd Beta bull demanded. “How so?”
“The orbital platforms dodged in some instances. Ground targets on the moons were struck, but we cannot confirm a kill.”
“How many of the orbital platforms did we kill?” the ship's Alpha bull demanded. The Beta bull gave him a sidelong look but didn't stop the question.
“Less than half hit their intended targets. Some of the targets are now emitting the same sensor jamming that the ships are,” the sensor tech reported.
“So few?” the beta demanded.
“At this range, that was a known problem, Beta,” the weapon's bull stated. “Shall we try again? We are low on those munitions however.”
“No,” the Beta bull growled as he stared at the plot. He was frustrated with the lack of progress. “We can deal with them later. For the moment, conserve ammunition. What about strikes against those ships?” he demanded, pointing to what had to be the new warships.
“No impacts.”
“None at all?” the beta demanded.
“They are maneuvering far more than the platforms, and the sensors cannot get a lock, Fleet Herd Leader,” the sensor tech reported.
“Excuses,” the Beta bull grumbled.
“It just means we'll have to be close to cut through the chatter and make certain of a kill,” the ship's Alpha bull stated. “Your orders?”
“Head for the nearest habitable planet—the fourth one in. They will be forced to stand and defend it.”
“As you command, Fleet Herd Leader.”
~~*^*~~
“For the reprieve, we can only be grateful,” someone on the flag bridge murmured.
“Ma'am, the CAG wants to launch fighters. We're at extreme range with the refueling shuttles.” her tactical offi
cer reported.
“Denied. We're going to get in closer. I don't want any of those birds running dry. And I want to keep them under wraps for the moment,” Admiral Kepler replied.
~~*^*~~
The Terran colony ship Sea of Space jumped into the outer edge of the Sol star system, inconveniently and uncomfortably close to the battle space. “What the devil's going on?” Captain Ludwig Lewis demanded as he stared at the carnage around them. It looked like a free-for-all. His plot was still stabilizing, but his people had already picked out some drifting wreckage. “We're gone for how long, all because we ran into drive trouble and the star system comes apart again? Does anyone know what is going on?” the captain said, waving a hand.
“Damned if I know, sir,” his sensor tech stated. “It looks like we walked into a naval battle out of some video game.”
“Someone raise one of those ships and figure out what is going on,” Captain Lewis demanded.
“Which ones, sir?” the communication's officer asked dubiously.
“Any of them!” the exasperated captain said, waving a hand.
“Sir, we do not recognize some of those ships. They are of completely unknown classes,” the sensor tech reported, clearly confused.
“Comm, hail the nearest ships. See what we can get out of them.”
~~*^*~~
The Beta bull saw the new starship jump in behind his support vessels. It was a threat to his herd; one he was instinctively and duty bound to stop at any costs. He immediately ordered the five ships to speed up to join him while his warships changed course to protect them. “Break off the attack! We must protect our own,” he growled.
“The geometry isn't good, Herd Leader. If we slow or stop, they can catch up.”
“Then do that. Do it quickly,” the Beta bull ordered.
“Breaking off the attack on the next force will cause undue hardship on our strategy,” the ship's Alpha bull warned.
“It can't be helped. Without the support herd, we are stranded here without hope of ever getting back to the home herds,” the Beta bull replied.
The ship's Alpha bull nodded in response.
~~*^*~~
“Ma’am, a ship has just jumped in behind the enemy,” the CIC rating reported.
“One of theirs I presume?” Admiral Kepler asked as she took a sip of coffee. She needed to balance her caffeine intake and sleep she knew.
“No, ma'am. We're still getting fresh readings, but it didn't come in on the Altair jump point. It came in off of it, but the ship is crossing the battle space.”
“One of ours you mean?” the captain demanded.
“It looks that way,” the CIC rating reported.
“Frack. Comm, raise that ship. Tell them to get the hell out of here,” she ordered.
“Aye aye, Ma'am.”
~~*^*~~
“What about a cyber attack? Can the A.I. do anything?” the president asked, calling the general.
“It comes down to range and a lack of understanding of the enemy's systems, sir. Every A.I. is getting a copy of what transmissions we're receiving from the enemy. Unfortunately, it isn't understandable without an electronic Rosetta stone. Making one takes time.”
“Okay,” Joe said slowly, nodding. He remembered the old military axiom about asking for anything but time. His lips pursed in a sour expression.
“The other problem is range. There are no A.I. out there with the ships.”
“None? I thought there would be at least a couple A.I. by now. What about the dumb A.I.?”
“They are just that, dumb, sir. They do not have any creativity. They can process orders, but that's about it. No smart A.I. signed on to be in any of the ships. They didn't consider them survivable, and well, the crews are still not thrilled with working with an A.I.”
“Then that's something they need to get over. And they better damn well do it fast,” the president growled.
“From your lips to everyone's ears, sir. We're in this together now.”
“Damn straight we are.”
~~*^*~~
“Bro, you've got to change course,” Walter said in the recorded video. “You are flying right into a battle. You need to get out of there. My people tell me you will be drifting into range of the enemy ships within ten hours. That's right around when we're going to begin to engage them, give or take,” Walter said. “Head to the outer colonies. My people are feeding you telemetry now.”
Walter's image froze.
Ludwig stared at it for a moment, then shook his head. He was glad he'd been asleep and had taken the call in his stateroom. He hit record.
“Walt, I don't have the foggiest clue on what's going on. I don't have the fuel to go somewhere else! We barely had enough to get here!” Ludwig snarled. “And before you ask, no I can't change course! I'm on the best course we've got for Mars.” He grimaced. “FYI, my people already crunched the numbers.” He hit pause. Yes, they'd crunched the numbers all right, after they'd settled into the course they were on. They'd found out about the battle just after the initial burn to get to Mars,” he hit the record button after a moment. “One way or another, we're committed to this course now; if we tried to abort now, we'd use up all of our fuel and run ourselves dry trying to get somewhere else. If there is anywhere else to go to!”
He hit the pause button as he fumed and tried to get control of his temper.
He'd been initially shocked but not entirely surprised that his brother was in charge of the so-called Confederation Navy. His brother was the logical choice he knew. The aliens were totally mind blowing to him though.
And if he couldn't change course, they'd do that literally he thought to himself and then winced.
“I'll do what I can to kick us a million kilometers away. I think you two are going to be shooting at each other too much for them to be interested in us. Good luck,” he said gruffly as he finished the recording. He played it back and then hit send.
~~*^*~~
Freedom entered the Argus battle flotilla's perimeter and then settled herself and her three sister ships into position near the carrier exactly as scheduled. With her were six supply ships that had managed to rendezvous with the flotilla as well. He had noted the tugs moving cargo frantically around as well as the refueling going on. Jan was clearing her force for action as quickly as she could and was making sure everyone was topped off.
Good.
“Sir, we're receiving a transmission from Argus,” Ensign Sedong reported.
“Put it through,” the admiral ordered.
“Admiral, I concede command,” Admiral Kepler said over a whisker laser.
“Admiral, you are relieved. I'll stay in Freedom however, Jan; I don't want to swap anything at this late a junction,” Admiral Lewis said.
“What's this about Sea of Space?” Jan asked.
“Ludwig is either being stupid or he really doesn't have the fuel. I wanted to tell him we'd send a set of tugs to recover him, but we need everything we've got here,” Admiral Lewis replied. “Like it or not, he's going to be walking right into a battle, and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it.” He grimaced and looked away from the camera. “He always did stick his nose where it doesn't belong,” he muttered.
“I think we can thank him for the enemy's sudden change in formation and change in plans,” Jan replied.
The admiral looked back at the camera and the small image of the woman on the screen below it. “Oh? Do tell,” he drawled.
“When Sea of Space showed up, the enemy immediately tightened up. I think they are sensitive to a threat to their fleet train.”
Admiral Lewis grunted. “They probably need the supplies on there, plus, any fuel.”
“Exactly,” Jan replied. “It will allow us an opening I think. If we feint at those ships, they might back off.”
“As long as it is a feint. I'd love to mousetrap them all, but I don't want to trap them here. The last thing we need is to be locked in a cage with those big bruisers seeing no way t
o retreat,” he said.
Jan winced as she envisioned one or both of those ships committing suicide by ramming a planet. It wasn't entirely inconceivable she knew; they didn't know anything about the enemy or his psychology.
“What I'd like to do is pick them apart. Hit the other cruiser, force them to withdraw. Play for time,” the admiral mused. “I don't think it is going to work though; they are keeping too close together now.”
“And if they did dangle the cruiser out there and if we took the bait, it would draw us in. They could speed the battleship up and hit us together in a one-two punch,” Jan replied as she got into the spirit of gaming out the next battle.
“Exactly.”
“So, what do we do instead?”
“I'm playing for time,” the admiral said. “We've got the inside tract and that means supplies. They haven't resupplied, have they?”
“I haven't seen any underway replenishment,” Jan mused. “Either they did it beforehand or do not want to make themselves vulnerable while we're close.”
“But they have to be making whatever repairs they can,” Admiral Lewis stated. “So, the question is how much did they get repaired, and what we can do to frack them up some more.”
“I'd prefer a knockout, sir, but at this point, I'll take a light beating if we can get our own licks in. A light one,” Jan said.
“I can't make any promises,” Admiral Lewis replied. “Since you are busy replenishing our ships, I'll have Freedom's group replenished too before we move in. That will give us some time to see what else we can come up with.”
“Aye aye, sir. I know you burned a lot of fuel to catch up with us,” Jan replied with a nod.
“That we did so top us off,” the admiral said. “I'm going to go try the full stomach method of concentration.”
Jan smiled slightly. “Aye aye, sir.”
“Let me know if anything changes,” the admiral said to someone off camera as he closed the circuit.
Chapter 35