A Show of Force

by Ryk Brown

  Nathan held his breath, staring at the back of Mister Navashee’s head for what seemed an eternity.

  “Impact confirmed!” Mister Navashee finally reported. “But only one! The second battleship was hit in her stern! She’s coming apart!”

  “What about the first battleship?” Nathan asked.

  “Negative, sir,” Mister Navashee replied. “No damage. Two clean misses.”

  Nathan tried to keep his frustration from showing. “Helm, adjust course to the remaining battleship. Mister Riley, plot a new jump. Same attack strategy.”

  “Changing course to intercept remaining target,” Mister Chiles replied.

  “Plotting new jump,” Mister Riley acknowledged.

  “Captain, they’re changing course again,” Mister Navashee stated. “Seven degrees to starboard.”

  “They’re zigzagging,” Nathan said. “If they weren’t before, they sure as hell are now.”

  “They’re bringing their big guns around,” Mister Navashee added.

  “To target us?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What then?”

  “I have no idea,” Mister Navashee admitted.

  “Comms, contact Jumpers One and Two and tell them to retrieve the KKVs that missed and get them back into firing positions as quickly as possible.”

  “That will take time,” Luis warned. “Time that we don’t have.”

  “Not much choice, is there?”

  “Course change complete,” Mister Chiles reported.

  “Attack jump plotted and locked,” Mister Riley added.

  Nathan sighed, summoning up his resolve. “Let’s hit them again, gentlemen.”

  Commander Telles jumped up into the combat jumper, followed by Master Sergeant Jahal and his two Ghatazhak soldiers. He tapped the comm-control on the side of his helmet, switching to the jumper’s intercom. “Pilot! Get me to Mobile Two!”

  “Aye, sir!” the pilot replied.

  Telles tapped his comm-control again. “Aurora, Telles. Status on the Tango Zulu?”

  “Telles, Aurora. One down, one to go,” Ensign Souza answered.

  “What happened?” the commander asked as the combat jumper’s engines spun up and the shuttle began to rise quickly off the ground.

  “Target went evasive. We’re going to try again.”

  “How long?”

  “At least ten mikes, maybe twelve.”

  The combat shuttle turned sharply to the left and began to accelerate into forward flight as it continued to climb.

  “Copy that. Telles out.” The commander switched channels again. “Mobile Two, Telles.”

  “Go for Mobile Two.”

  “Sit-rep?” Telles asked as the door gunners activated the doors on either side.

  “Their close air support is making things a bit challenging, sir. It sure would be nice if they’d stop sending down troops and air cover.”

  Telles looked at the door gunner in front of him. “Why’d you close them?”

  “We’re doing micro-jumps everywhere!” the door gunner explained. “Makes it more difficult for the Jungers on the ground to target us!”

  “What’s the status on the Tango Zulu?” the lieutenant asked over the comms.

  Telles returned to his communication with Mobile Two. “Tango Zulu went fifty-fifty,” he told the lieutenant. “They’re taking another shot in ten to twelve. Can you hold?”

  “No way, sir,” the lieutenant responded. “Not with all the close air support the Jung are throwing at us. We’re down to ten combat jumpers, and only a few troop jumpers. We’ve also lost more than thirty percent force strength. I have no idea how many Falcons are left, as I haven’t heard from any of them since Falcon Four cleared the skies above your last position.”

  “Order all airborne assets except the Falcons out of the area,” the commander ordered. “Order all ground forces to stop trying to advance and dig in and hold position wherever they can, until we can get rid of some of the air cover for you.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’ll be at your position shortly. Telles out.” The commander looked at his master sergeant, the two of them exchanging looks of concern.

  “The Ghatazhak don’t lose, sir,” the master sergeant insisted, just before he offered a grin.

  “So I’ve been told,” the commander replied as he tapped his comm-control again.

  The windows on the shuttle went opaque as the shuttle jumped across the city at relatively low altitude.

  “Aren’t you guys worried about hitting something while jumping so low?” Master Sergeant Jahal asked the starboard door gunner.

  “Jump complete,” the copilot announced. “Open ‘em up and find something to shoot at.”

  “Better than running into a slammer!” the gunner replied as he activated the starboard door control, causing the door to slide aft into the side bulkhead.

  “Slammer?” the master sergeant wondered.

  “Nasty little fuckers fired by Jungers on the ground.”

  “Why slammers?”

  “First you see a little flash, then… Slam! You’re done!” the gunner explained as he pulled his gun down from the ceiling and swung it outward on its mount to lock it into firing position.

  “Aurora Actual, Telles,” the commander called over his helmet comms.

  “Telles, go for Aurora Actual,” Nathan replied.

  “Captain, force strength on Kohara is down to seventy percent and falling fast. We are losing air assets with each passing minute. I’m ordering all jumpers to stand off until the Falcons can get control of the skies.”

  “Understood,” Nathan replied. “What about your men on the ground?”

  “I’m ordering them to dig in and hold for now. I need you to prevent more support from leaving that last battleship until you can Tango Zulu his ass, or I’m not going to have any forces left down here.”

  “Can you pull forces from the other two planets?” Nathan asked. “Air power is next to nothing on the other worlds.”

  “We could get them out, but half of them would get shot down before they got here,” the commander insisted. “You have to keep that ship from sending any more assets to the surface.”

  “Can you withdraw?” Nathan wondered.

  “The only thing withdrawing will do is to guarantee that all my men will die! I need that fucking battleship gone, and I need orbital strikes on about fifty targets as soon as you can make it happen, sir!”

  “Understood, Commander. We’ll make it happen. Aurora Actual, out.”

  Master Sergeant Jahal looked at the commander again. “Ghatazhak don’t withdraw, either.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too,” the commander replied.

  “Captain,” Mister Navashee called. “They’re sweeping overhead with their big rail guns. Back and forth from side to side. I think they’re trying to lay down a flak wall to try and prevent another KKV strike.”

  “Or to narrow our jump angles and make it easier to target us with the rest of their weapons,” Luis observed.

  “On the next jump, put us directly astern and a little below her,” Nathan ordered. “No more than a few kilometers away, so they can only get a few guns on us.”

  “We won’t be much below,” Mister Chiles replied. “The target is already skimming the planet’s mesosphere.”

  “As low as you can, Mister Chiles.”

  “Jump event,” Mister Navashee reported.

  “Incoming message from Scout One,” Ensign Souza announced. “They were unable to locate two of the KKVs. Scout Two is chasing down the last one now and will have it on station and ready to fire in seven minutes.”

  “Our people aren’t going to last that long,” Nathan said.

  “On attack course,” Mister Chiles reported.

  “Comms, order Scouts One and Three to harass that battleship, concentrating on her underside to keep them from deploying more reinforcements, but warn them not to linger too long. Their big guns may be aimed elsewhere, but their poin
t defenses are still a threat.”

  “Attack jump plotted and locked,” Mister Riley reported.

  “Ready all forward tubes. Execute your jump.”

  “Jumping,” Mister Riley replied as the jump flash washed over them.

  “Target dead ahead, three kilometers, two degrees up,” Mister Navashee reported.

  “Pitching up two,” the helmsman replied.

  “Locking all forward tubes onto target,” Luis announced.

  “Target is bringing her aft guns around,” Mister Navashee added. “Dorsal aft missile launchers as well.”

  “All tubes locked. Firing triplets!” Luis reported.

  The bridge flashed repeatedly with the red-orange glow of her plasma torpedoes as they left their tubes and streaked toward the Jung battleship just ahead.

  “Hold your jump, fire again!” Nathan ordered.

  “Firing triplets again on all tubes!” Luis replied.

  Again the bridge flashed red-orange.

  “Target is firing,” Mister Navashee warned.

  “Jump!”

  “Jumping,” Mister Riley replied as the jump flash again cast a momentary glow of blue-white light across the bridge.

  “Helm, plot a crisscross pattern. Side to side, up and down, varying in and out points. I want all our firepower on her aft shields. If she’s going to use most of her guns to defend against a KKV strike, let’s use that to our advantage.”

  “Aye, sir,” Mister Chiles replied.

  “I can’t fire back-to-back triplets on the main cannons like that,” Luis warned. “That last pair put them near the red line. If we’re going to fire two rounds like that, I recommend singles on the mains.”

  “We really need to beef up the heat exchangers on those things,” Nathan exclaimed.

  “New attack plot is ready, sir,” Mister Riley announced.

  “Captain,” Mister Navashee said, his voice low, “her aft shields are stronger than the rest. The chances of our breaking through them…”

  “I know,” Nathan interrupted, “but she has fewer guns aft, which means we can linger a few seconds longer and pound her twice as much with each jump.”

  “But she’ll just jump away when her aft shields get too weak, and wait for them to recharge.”

  “And that will take what, ten minutes? Fifteen? Twenty? It will give us a window of opportunity,” Nathan explained.

  “An opportunity for what?”

  “To find the last two KKVs. To take out a few key Jung strongholds from orbit. To jump in more resources to help out our guys on the ground. Whatever. Don’t you see? We don’t have to beat that battleship. We just have to prove to her captain that it’s a stalemate. If he knows he can’t win, he has no choice but to give up and leave the system to us. Meanwhile, we have to keep harassing him so that he can’t keep launching shuttles and fighters. We have to show him that he cannot win this.”

  “You’re assuming that he will give up and leave,” Luis pointed out. “So far, they’ve always been willing to fight to the death.”

  “All the better.”

  “Unless he drops containment and detonates his antimatter reactors, taking us and half the planet with him,” Luis replied.

  Nathan turned the rest of the way around to look at Luis. “Good point. Mister Riley,” Nathan continued as he rotated forward again, “The lower their shield strength gets, the further away we attack from.”

  “Understood,” the navigator replied.

  “And if you get the slightest hint that they’re dropping containment, don’t wait for an order to jump,” Nathan added. “We don’t want to end up halfway across the galaxy again.”

  “Scout Three, Scout One,” Captain Poc called over the comms. “Let’s go high low, fore and aft, thirty-two degrees, odds and evens, and always under. We’re small, so there’s less chance of us hitting a departing shuttle as we pass.”

  “Got it,” Captain Nash replied. “High low, fore aft, thirty-two, odds and evens. Always under. We’ll be ready to start our first run in thirty seconds,” he added, looking at Commander Eckert in the right seat.

  “Got it,” the commander said.

  “We’ll go in ten. One out.”

  “Come right twelve and up five,” Eckert advised.

  “Right twelve, up five,” the captain replied as he altered the ship’s course.

  “Jumping in twenty.”

  “How are we looking, Donny?” the captain called over his comm-set.

  “All systems are good,” the lieutenant replied. “Plasma torpedoes show ready.”

  “Gunners, fire at anything small flying about. You’ll only have a ten-second window at the most, so don’t second guess. We have no ships in the area, so pick a target and shoot.”

  “Jumping in ten.”

  “Set the torpedo cannons to triplets,” the captain ordered.

  “Torpedo cannons to triplets, snap shots, no locks,” the commander replied. “Five seconds.”

  “Cutting power and pitching up,” Captain Nash said as he brought their thrust levers to zero and pulled the ship’s nose up a full ninety degrees.

  “Three…”

  “Nose up ninety,” Captain Nash reported.

  “…Two…”

  “Torpedoes armed.”

  “…One……jumping.”

  The Scout ship suddenly shook violently, as if they had collided with something as they came out of their jump.

  Captain Nash looked out his forward view screen. Despite the fact that they were a full kilometer below the enemy battleship, its underside still filled his entire screen as they passed underneath the target from its starboard to port. “Firing!”

  Six red-orange balls of plasma energy streaked away from the Scout ship’s torpedo tubes mounted along the outer edges of their main drive section. The plasma struck the battleship’s shields, causing them to flash a brilliant, semi-opaque blue with each torpedo impact.

  “Are we hit?” Lieutenant Scalotti asked over comms.

  “Something hit us, that’s for sure,” Ensign Agari replied.

  The captain pulled the nose up further, trying to keep it pointed at the same spot on the underside of the Jung battleship as they passed under her. “Firing again!”

  “Everything looks good,” Donny insisted.

  “Jumping!” Commander Eckert announced as their second round of plasma torpedoes struck the target’s shields.

  “I don’t think it was weapons fire,” Ensign Agari said. “I think it was just debris.”

  “Anybody hit anything interesting?” Captain Nash wondered.

  “I never saw a target,” Sergeant Ravi replied.

  “They were all over the fucking place!” Ensign Agari insisted.

  “Maybe you should call them out, Toosh,” Captain Nash suggested.

  “These things need to have some sort of automatic seek and lock system,” Sergeant Poteet said.

  “I’ll be sure to tell the admiral,” Captain Nash replied as he brought the ship around for another attack jump. “Look, if you don’t have a target within a couple of seconds of jumping in, just fire and sweep. Better to shoot and not hit anything than not shoot and not hit anything.”

  “Maybe we should jump in a little further out next time?” Donny suggested. “Avoid some of the debris?”

  “The further out we are the easier it is for their guns to track us,” Commander Eckert explained.

  “This ain’t a democracy, guys,” Captain Nash reminded them.

  “Two zero four,” Commander Eckert directed, “down three.”

  “Two zero four, down three,” Nash replied as he turned to the new heading and brought their nose down slightly.

  “Jumping,” the commander announced. “New course, zero three seven, two up relative. Next jump in twenty seconds.”

  “Zero three seven, two up,” the captain replied. “How are our torpedo cannons holding up?”

  “The extra exchangers on the outside are helping,” Lieutenant Scalotti r
eplied, “but I wouldn’t fire more than two triplets in a row. It’s been a minute now, and they’ve only dissipated half of their built-up heat so far.”

  “Five seconds.”

  “Pitching up forty,” Nash announced. “I’ll make it a single this time, Donny.”

  “Jumping.”

  “Targets at twelve, three low, five low, six high, seven high…”

  “Firing triplets!” Captain Nash reported as he pressed the firing button on his flight control stick.

  “I’ve got three!” Sergeant Ravi announced.

  “I’ve got seven!” Sergeant Poteet said.

  “Jumping…”

  The Scout ship shook violently, its back end lurching to port as it went into a spin.

  “What the fuck!” Captain Nash exclaimed as he struggled to regain attitude control of the Scout ship.

  “Did we jump?” Sergeant Ravi wondered.

  “Jump systems are offline!” Donny reported.

  Captain Nash looked out his forward view screen as the Jung battleship, still only a kilometer away, passed quickly across his view screen from left to right. “We’re still in the fire zone!”

  “Mains are down! Maneuvering is at ten percent!” Donny reported.

  “Hull breach, dorsal surface, port side!” Sergeant Ravi added.

  “I’m losing reactors three and four!” Donny added.

  “Shut them down!” the captain ordered. “Wellsy! Mayday!”

  “Mayday, mayday, mayday!” Ensign Wells called out over the ship-to-ship comms. “Scout Three is hit! Jump drive is down! Main drive and maneuvering are down! Running on half power!”

  “Fuck! Donny! Give me something to work with here!”

  “I’m trying!” Lieutenant Scalotti replied as he frantically tried to reroute systems to offer his captain some control over the ship’s attitude. “Goddamn it! I’m losing shit all over the place!”

  “We can’t bail while we’re spinning,” the captain reminded him. “We’ll end up hurtling toward Kohara or slamming into the underside of that battleship!”

  “Should we keep firing?” Sergeant Poteet wondered.

  “No!” Donny insisted. “I need the power!”

  “This thing is fucking useless!” Captain Nash declared in frustration, as he finally gave up and released the flight control stick.