He Who Dares: Book Three

by Rob Buckman

  “Yes, I know. Warn the crew what to expect and have everything locked down before we execute. On this course, those Sirrien destroyers will expect us to do a high speed pass in line of battle. With luck they won’t expect a sharp, high-speed turn using the bow side thrusters to cross the tee.” He gave Chris a wolfish smile.

  “They can still shoot ‘off-bore,’ Skipper.”

  “True, but by the time they figure that out hopefully they’ll have a lot more to worry about.”

  “Like trying to avoid a shit storm of missiles and torpedoes coming at them,” he laughed.

  “Don’t forget the rail guns. Set them for auto-fire the moment they have a target.”

  “It’s odd for the Sirriens to launch an attack at this range, Skipper.”

  “I know, and that’s what’s been bothering me. However, if you consider they have just fought a pitched battle with the main Union fleet, they may be low on munitions. It could be they haven’t had time to drop back to the resupply ships yet or maybe that’s where they hope to go.”

  “So they launched early to drive us off so they could run for the resupply ships.” Chris added.

  “Now you’ve got it. Out here, it’s rather like the quickstep. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.” The analogy brought a smile to Chris Longmire’s face. “I think it’s time for you to go and join the cheerleaders back in the auxiliary battle bridge, Chris.”

  “We are never going to live that nickname down, are we, Skipper?” he sighed.

  “Well, what do you expect, dressing up as cheerleaders for the Christmas party?” he laughed.

  Shaking his head, Chris gave his captain a half salute and departed. The captain was right; this was the slow part as both sides piled on the gravities to close the immense distance between them. Even at full ahead, it would still be two long hours before either was in range of the other. Then the “quick-quick” part would cut in as they made a high speed pass of one another. Neither dared slow their speed for fear of becoming a sitting target for the auto targeting computers. The order to lock down everything in anticipation of the high-speed turn had everyone stuffing items in lockers and securing the doors or drawers. Gradually Pierce’s battle group spread out in a straight line thereby signaling to the other side what they apparently intended to do. The Sirriens mirrored his movements, but even so he kept the track just outside the Sirrien effective beam weapon range.

  “All hands,” he called, hitting the all-station key, “prepare for a high-speed turn, all rail guns set on auto and prepare to fire torpedoes and missiles on my mark.” Having pulled a similar maneuver in war games, the crew knew what to expect. The inertia dampening system worked well on the longitudinal axis of the ship and during mild turns. On a turn like this the inertia dampening systems would be strained to the limit and everyone was going to feel as if they had an elephant sitting on their chest as they were pulled sideways. Anyone, or anything, not prepared or locked down was going to fly sideways with sufficient force to break bones.

  “Auxiliary bridge manned and ready, Captain,” Chris reported.

  “Acknowledged, Number One. Stand by for ‘Nelson One’ in ten, I repeat, ten minutes.”

  “Right! I knew this maneuver looked familiar.”

  “Helm, lock in the course change to activate…” he looked at the clock, and the position of the Sirrien destroyers, “…eight point three minutes from now.”

  “Aye, course change locked in, sir,” Captain Pierce hit the all-stations button one last time.

  “All hands, brace for rapid course change. Sit back people. Here it comes.”

  As they closed the Sirriens opened up with their rail guns not that they did much good against the ConFed shields. That was one technology they’d managed to stay ahead on. Everyone sweated the last two minutes as the clock ticked down gripping their arm rest or settling deeper into their jell-pack seat cushions. It was almost a relief when the warning alarm sounded, but even so everyone gritted their teeth as the elephant sat on their chest. All the Confed ships rolled and turned at the same moment, the roll helped spread the stress load over more of the ship’s hull and frame rather than on one plane if they’d just turned sharply. Station seats turned reducing lateral shear and avoiding the possibility of the person being pulled out of his seat. The maneuver took the Sirrien destroyer force completely by surprise suddenly presenting a much smaller target to shoot at. On the reverse side all the Confed ships now had a clear ‘bore shot’ and the computers took it, unleashing a volley of missiles, torpedoes and rail gun rounds. The results were devastating as all the Sirrien destroyers took punishing hits putting most of them out of action. This gave the Union Cruisers a clear run at the lone battle cruiser. One battle cruiser against two Union light cruisers, one Confed cruiser and six destroyers coming at it from three different sides and the Confed destroyer screen peeled off to come in on a different vector.

  Overconfidence has been the downfall of many a commander and so it was with the Sirrien battle cruiser captain. Having just defeated the Union Navy, he was arrogant enough to think he could take on that many lesser ships and win. He was wrong. Despite the lower output from the smaller ships, they came at him from so many directions at once, he was never able to concentrate his missile attack on any one adversary. He also underestimated the strength of the ConFed ships’ shields and the tenacity of the Union ship captains who’d just seen their main battle fleet reduced to scrap metal by the sneak attack. These Union ships were battle ready not in a powered-down condition as the main Union fleet had been. Time and again both the Union and the Confed ships shrugged off the incoming missile volleys while delivering punishing strikes of their own. The only thing the Sirrien commander had on his side was time. The longer the battle lasted, the more chance there was for more Sirrien elements to turn up and join the fight. The Union and Confed captains knew that as well and pressed their numerical advantage to the max. It didn’t take long for the three-pronged attack to take its toll as first one section of the Sirrien point defense systems went down, then another.

  Neither the Union nor the Confed captains made the mistake of getting into knife-fighting range of the battleship’s main guns but continued to pound away at a distance. Gradually the missile strikes penetrated the Sirrien’s shields unable as they were to recharge their capacitors sufficiently to ward off the next wave of missiles and torpedoes that came streaking out of the darkness. It wasn’t without cost, as Captain Pierce lost three of his destroyers and his life when an unpowered torpedo drifted through his shield defenses and detonated against his unprotected hull. That not only cost him his life but that of his bridge staff as well. The moment the main bridge went down, Chris took over from the battle bridge and continued the fight, pushing the grief to the back of his mind. At last, someone got a torpedo into the battleship’s engine room, and after that it was all over. Once the main power went down, so did its main weapons. With only backup power at their disposal, there was no way the captain of the Sirrien battleship could ward off the combined attack of three light cruisers at close range. Between the three of them, they ripped the battle cruiser open down to its keel and collected on the first part of the blood debt the Sirriens had to pay for their treachery.

  * * * * * *

  Chris Longmire wiped his hands across his drawn face as he finished the story, and Mike could sympathize with his feelings.

  “So, it’s open warfare with the Sirriens now, Skipper?” Pete murmured.

  “I guess so, Pete. They haven’t declared war on Earth yet, and by the look of it they won’t just yet.”

  “We need to get a message torp off to Admiral Rawlings, Skipper.”

  “Yes, you’re right, Jan. He needs to know what to expect when the Sirriens come calling,” Mike answered before turning back to the view screen. “What are your plans now, Captain Longmire?”

  “I… I’m not sure. I don’t really know where to go except maybe Earth.”

  “Not much good going there. They are go
ing to be in the same shit when the Sirriens turn up there.” Mike paused a moment, thinking fast with his Letter of Marque in mind. “I’d like to suggest that you follow us to Christchurch.”

  “Avalon space? Why on earth would we go there? They don’t have a Navy to speak of, and besides the Sirriens can take that system any time they want.” There was a note of contempt in his voice.

  “True, at least on the surface.” Mike kept his temper seeing what Chris Longmire had been through. “First, they have to get there.”

  Chris Longmire frowned and looked thoughtful for a moment, “You have a point there. I hear it’s a bit difficult to get through the Rift, and if that’s the case, how are we supposed to get there.”

  “If we can get to the WP at Camelot, Safehold, or Winchester, I’ll contact the Avalon port authorities and request transfer to Christchurch.”

  “It sounds like a plan, Captain, but I’m only speaking for myself here. I’m not sure what the other captains will want to do.” He sighed, rubbing his face again.

  “I’ll contact them and make the same offer. If you, and they want to get back in this fight with new ships and take this fight back to the Sirriens, I’d say it’s your best bet. If the Sirriens are hell bent on conquering the rest of human space, Avalon might be the only safe place you can run to right now.”

  “I suspect you’re right, Captain Bear. You can bet New Moscow, Brandenburg, and the other fringe systems are going to come under attack as well.”

  “True, but a few of them are going to be a hard nut to crack once the word gets out. They’ll gobble up the smaller systems first to consolidate their position before going after the bigger boys.”

  “From what we saw of their fleets, that won’t be long.”

  Mike could see he was dubious about going to Avalon space, partly because the word was that Avalon didn’t have a Navy to speak of and partly due to the lingering rumors about genetic superman. Wondering if they’d become nothing more than slaves.

  “Apart from the natural barrier of the Rift, you might find that Avalon has more of a Navy than you might think.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. I’ve been there.”

  “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement, Captain Bear, and thank you for the information. Now all we have to do is get out of this damned system.”

  “Oh, I think that between us we can take care of any Sirrien ships hereabouts, don’t you?”

  “Yes… well, we are all a bit short of expendable munitions, Captain.”

  “I’m not, so I’ll go in first and clear the road, so to speak. You come on next and clear up anything remaining.” With that, Mike cut the transmission.

  “Pete, signal the convoy to hold station while we go have a look see. Helm, full ahead. Ops, signal battle stations.”

  “Aye, sir!” they all chorused at once.

  The Hemlock surged ahead in a clockwise spiral down the gravity well toward the southern warp point. She didn’t bother to hide, “pinging” as she went.

  “I have four Sirrien destroyers on picket duty, Captain. In a ‘finger four’ echelon formation.

  “Nice of them to line up for us, Skipper.”

  “Yes, isn’t it, offset one behind the other like ducks in a row.”

  “Course, Skipper?” Pete asked.

  “Let’s confuse the hell out of them – Helm, start a spiraling course towards them and force them to spread out.”

  “Spiraling course it is, Skipper.” Conner Blake set the Hemlock on a rolling spiral that gradually got larger. That meant the Sirriens didn’t know for sure from which direction the Hemlock was going to attack.

  “Gable, launch four decoy drones and stand by with dazzlers.”

  “Aye, Skipper, launching decoy drones. Dazzlers at the ready.”

  “Guns, stand by,” Pete added.

  “All weapons standing by, XO.” Ensign Cooper replied, now acting weapons officer, the affectionate nickname of “guns” giving her a warm feeling of belonging.

  “Fifty thousand miles and closing, skipper.”

  “We are within missile engagement envelope and have targeting lock on all four ships, sir,” Cooper called out.

  “Hold… hold… Launch decoy drones and dazzlers!”

  “Launching,” Gable shot back.

  Four decoy drones shot out of the rear-facing ejector tube while two dazzlers launched from the bow. A few moments later the decoys exploded in a long stream of particulate matter that immediately showed up on Jan’s screen as four additional ships. If that wasn’t bad enough to confuse the Sirriens, the two torpedoes hurtling towards them did. They were not moving fast enough to be a serious threat, but just before they reached the Sirrien point defense boundary, they exploded in a dazzling display that momentarily blinded the Sirrien sensors.

  “Launch first spread of missiles and torpedoes now!” Pete called, anticipating the moment the dazzlers would explode. The Sirriens never saw the launch and were completely unaware of what was coming at them until their screens cleared. They immediately took evasive maneuvers and broke up their carefully orchestrated attack plan. Suddenly their shields didn’t overlap anymore and each ship was on its own to handle the incoming ordinance. To compound their problems the spread of missiles and torpedoes were seeded with ECM and ECCM pods not only confusing the Sirrien sensors by offsetting their radar signatures, but also by doubling the number of missiles and torpedoes coming at them. Their point defense systems vainly tried to shoot down the phantom missiles thereby letting the real ones penetrate their defenses and explode against their shields. The missiles arrived first degrading the shields sufficiently for the torpedoes to penetrate and explode against the hulls. As the explosions cleared, Mike and Pete took a quick assessment of the results.

  “Guns – hold the second wave, go to main weapons to finish them off,” Pete ordered.

  “Holding second wave. Switching to guns, sir.” Conner in the mean time straightened out the Hemlock’s course, anticipating Mike and Pete’s orders, and they sailed between the four crippled Sirrien destroyers ripping them apart with pulse cannons. The Hemlock took a few belated hits from the remaining Sirrien weapons, but her shield and hull shrugged them off as they shot by. Mike felt no compassion for the dying men and women on those warships. The Sirriens had destroyed countless ships of the Confed and Union Navy without warning, and he didn’t want to think about the number people who’d died in those attacks. Now the gloves were off, no more stun or non-lethal weapons. This was war.

  “Hemlock I thought you said we were to clean up after you’d cleared the road?” Chris Longmire radioed.

  “Oh, sorry about that Cimarron we got a little greedy there.”

  “Want to tell me just what you used back there? We got a reading of five ships, and what was that um… not sure what to call it, that masking effect or whatever it was.”

  “Sorry, can’t say, old boy, top secret and all that,” Pete replied with a chuckle.

  “And you are nothing but an odd looking ship of a type I’ve never seen before, and just a lowly mercenary ship escorting a convoy, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Right and I’m the Flying Dutchman,” Chris let out a tired laugh. “I think I’ll take your advice Captain Bear and head off to Avalon space.”

  “Good thinking. I don’t think the local customs and excise will be bothering us now.” He was right as no one challenged their transit, or asked for payment.

  “Have the course for the next star system, Skipper.”

  Mike took a quick look, but he wasn’t happy with the results. “Jan, this jump takes us in a little too close to the star. Recalculate to drop us out eight light hours earlier so we can take a look before we go in.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir. Recalculating jump.” It took a few minutes, and although he’d already worked out the numbers, Mike gave her the time to do it herself. The next jump duration was much better, and gave him, and the rest of his small fleet t
ime to assess what they were running into.

  “Good, transmit it to all ships and prepare to jump.”

  “Damn it!” Jan exclaimed. “Sir! I have a Sirrien battle group entering the system at Solar North!”

  “Make to all ships, we jump now. Let’s make like the good shepherd and get the flock out of here.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir. Transmitting now.”

  They jumped, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. Mike was betting the battle group would follow them so they would have to locate the next beacon and calculate the jump before the Sirriens turned up. The time lag between entering and exiting nth space was only three days, but it did give all the battle-damaged ship time to clean up and make repairs. Expendable munitions were a critical item on all the warships except the Hemlock not that she could get into any fight on her own. If they ran into anything more than a picket screen or patrol ship their only option was to run. This far out, and this close to the Rift, it didn’t leave too many options.

  “Jan, what are our options from the next star?”

  “We only have one, Skipper, to get us to Safehold in four days. All the others would take at least four jumps and about two months’ travel time.”

  “That’s not good. All the Confed and Union ships have wounded aboard that need to get to a ground-based hospital as soon as possible.”

  “I have several other stars in range, Skipper, but none of them has a beacon, so I have no idea where they go.”

  “Let’s see what we’ve got before we make a choice.”

  “Damn. It’s going to be tight, Mike. We’ll only have a few hours before the Sirriens jump in behind us.”

  Mike nodded in agreement, his face pulling into a sour expression. “We’ll just have to wait and see what’s ahead of us.”

  As the clock ticked down to the exit the tension increased. It didn’t take long for the word to spread through the crew that they had a Sirrien battle group on their tail. A tough ship she might be, but with the low ordinance and battle damage to the other warships, they and the Hemlock were no match for the Sirriens. Their only chance was to run.