“What kind of a tactician is he?”
The exec shook his head. “He’s a butcher, sir.”
“So this isn’t going to be pretty, huh?” Hammond leaned back and stretched stiff neck muscles. “What should I expect from him?”
“Talbot will treat his ships and crewman like he has an endless supply, sir. There’s no evidence he understands actual tactics.” Chase clenched his teeth.
Hammond recognized that look. Like every good Providence officer, his exec had disdain for butchers, Confed officers who cared little for their own men.
“The man has more ships at his disposal than do we. Boat for boat, he should be able to hold us at bay. But . . .”
Hammond turned from the screen to clear his mind. “I’m certain Talbot’s men are willing to die for king and country, but why is this idiot so intent on making them do just that? What will their dying in vain prove?”
Talbot’s flagship, the HMS Prince Michele, was the largest Battle cruiser in the Confederation. Maybe he felt superior because of it. Maybe. But whether or not that was true, Hammond was wise enough to know he himself shouldn’t be overly confident. There was always a chance Talbot would pull a few surprises of his own.
In all seriousness, any other Confederate fleet commander would have sent his Talons into the thick of battle from the get go, but what was that Fasech doing? His tactics—nearly nonexistent—were blunt, clumsy, and ill organized.
“Why is Talbot holding his fighters back?”
Commander Chase stepped next to the Admiral to speak in low tones. “He wants a bigger take, sir. He wants this ship.”
“Oh?” Hammond said, feigning surprise. He glanced at Chase. His first officer knew what he was talking about. Hammond could count on that as fact.
“Yes, sir. In every conflict Talbot has used his Talons as a direct assault on his opposition’s flagship. Wait and watch. They will skirt the fleet to reach us straightaway. Intel says he’s gunning for a Senate seat, sir. If he takes the Noble Sun, he may very well get what he wants. This ship is famous throughout the Confederation for our victories at Goshen, Prith, and the Straits of Gilead. I have no doubt he means to take her captive and bring her back to Parandi in one piece.”
“Possibly, Commander. This may yet work to our advantage. Alert the perimeter ships to focus on the Talons—make the little buggers spend a bit of fuel dodging our guns as they come around.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Hammond set his jaw. Like his First officer, he had no love for butchers either, and presently this Talbot idiot topped his “Public enemies” list.
“Commander, the line is drawn here. We bring an end to his killing his own men once and for all.”
“Understood, sir.”
The two fleets engaged and pummeled one another for a good half hour before Talbot made his move. He launched his Talons and just as Chase had said, they skirted the perimeter of the Providence fleet.
“So he wants this flagship, does he?” Hammond shook his head in disbelief. Nobel Sun was a war machine well suited to defend herself. Certainly Talbot knew that. And even if this ship should fall in battle, Hammond’s men knew who would next call the shots.
“Helm, back us away. Defense posture Omicron Beta. He wants to sack the Noble Sun itself. Let’s make him believe he has a chance.”
“Aye aye, Admiral. Defense posture Omicron Beta.”
The admiral then turned to the communications officer. “Get Bixby, Saunders, and Torrington on the com.”
Each captain on his own ship’s bridge, appeared one beside the other on Hammond’s split screen. “Capt. Torrington. I want the Long Bow on an outside run. Your target is the Tolamain, and I want it brought down. Saunders, you and Bixby are to get Torrington past this battle and around the enemy fleet. Mighty Mo and Armstrong are to fly cover.”
“Aye, Admiral,” said each man in turn. With that, their images were instantly replaced by the tactical map. Of Hammond’s team of well-trained players: the Long Bow was his running back, a fast, well-armed cruiser. Capt. Torrington’s job was to bring the Long Bow quickly around the outside, guarded by the muscular Mighty Missouri and the Armstrong. The rest of Hammond’s ships would push hard through the middle. If he read the Confederate fleet correctly they would in force press back against his center assault, and leave the Confed carrier Tolamain vulnerable to the Long Bow.
Of Hammond’s players at the assault’s point, the Dauntless pressed through the middle. Its powerful shields, protecting the large gunships to its right and left, allowed those ships to put more power and punch into their Neutrino-cannons.
To either side of the Dauntless, metal began to tear away from the Confederation’s double-hulled battle-cruisers. The cruisers replied with their big Diridium guns, but the Dauntless’ shields held.
Mighty Mo and Armstrong hit the Confederation ships hard, as the Long Bow came around on the outside to pass them unhindered.
Under tremendous pounding, the Dauntless’ shields finally came down, and when it started to take direct hits, it pulled back into the pocket—a protective bobble of friendly ships.
Fire Archer quickly took its place to hold up its shields.
With that, the Confederation’s Admiral Talbot pressed his ships forward all the more.
Hammond gritted his teeth. “Damn fool. We pull a ship back, and he thinks that ship has left the fight.”
Now, in the pocket and safely surrounded by her fleet, the Dauntless repair crews worked hard and fast to bring it back on line. This tactic of Hammond’s, to pull ships from the battle before they were wrecked, worked well. Doing so kept fresh ships in the fight. In time, Steel Nova replaced Fire Archer. Dauntless would rotate back to where it had started only after it was repaired and well ready.
Talbot mistakenly kept his ships in the mêlée and gave them nowhere in which to retreat. He created this circumstance on purpose to force his ships forward, always and only forward. And so they went; meeting Hammond’s guns head on until they were burning masses of metal and flesh. Unlike Hammond’s lead ship, Talbot’s were doomed to die . . .
. . . but not if Hammond could help it.
Adm. Hammond returned to his seat and glanced at Chase. “It’s exasperating fighting such people. In Talbot’s way of thinking, there being no God to answer to, he throws the lives of his men away as only so much rubbish. I can’t stomach this.”
Hammond and Chase watched the screen in disgust and with a tad bit of despair. It disheartened both of them to know that if Talbot was left to his own devices he’d reduce one Confederate ship after the next to flaming funeral pyres. Neither Providence officer wanted to just stand by and watch man and boat fall away as only so much worthless debris, but what could they do? There was no hope that the person commanding such action would change his way of thinking or concern himself with the fact that human beings were, indeed, dying at his hand.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Hammond said. “For the sake of those men, we need to intercede.”
“How do you mean, sir,” asked Cdr. Chase.
“If we do nothing, with each ship we destroy, hundreds of men will lose their lives just to prove their loyalty to the Confederation . . . and to Admiral Talbot. We’re going to have to break ranks.”
“What? But, sir, we can win this.”
“We’re not conceding victory, Commander.”
“Sir?”
“Once an enemy ship has lost its guns, let it through our lines. We’ll rescue as many of their crewmen as is possible.”
“And what’ll prevent any of those ships from ramming ours?”
“In a last ditch effort to impress Talbot, maybe they’ll try to do just that. But if any of Talbot’s men are to survive we’ll need to take that chance. Once they’re through our lines target their engines, and stop their advance with tractor beams. No boarding parties. They’re to surrender themselves before we offload their survivors.”
Chase shook his head. “Damned ironic .
. .”
Hammond studied his friend and first officer for a moment. “Ironic? How so?”
“You care more for the lives of his men, sir, than does he. It’s a shame, really, but this uncaring mindset is what we are fighting against, isn’t it?”
“As long as the Confederacy appoints politicians to the post of admiral instead of military men, we’ll face this lunacy.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Slowly the odds and advantage shifted toward Hammond, but to him, ever mindful that he himself had lost little in the way of man or boat, victory seemed to come at too high a price.
Dissimilarly, the Confederate leaders cared little for human life. In his war-room, the Supreme Prias and his cronies shoved playing pieces across a large tactical map. It was of no concern to them that the chits actually represented people. A lost piece meant lost lives, but that connection never entered their thoughts. Talbot was of like mind. Losing a ship meant soldiers died, but he didn’t see it that way. To him, they were playing pieces, nothing more. In light of this attitude, Confederate soldiers had to consider well the cost of signing on to engage Providence ships. To Hammond, it was both funny and sad that neither Talbot nor the Prias understood how destructive they were being to their own rule.
But Hammond knew. One day the Confederate kingdom would fall because of their leader’s disregard for human life. For the sake of the Confederate soldiers, Hammond felt it was his duty to hurry along the opposition government’s fall. His letting Confederate ships through his lines to rescue their crews soon made him the hero among his enemy combatants. Talbot was blind to that fact. Now, to the Confed soldiers, being shoved to the front of this battle meant a possible escape from the fight instead of certain death because of it. That fact undermined Talbot’s command, but with his focus elsewhere, he missed what was truly taking place under his nose.
To Hammond, Admiral Talbot strategy seemed quite in keeping with that mindset even in his use of the Talon fighters. The Talons, though released late in the game, and in spite of his misuse of their services, managed to skirt the parameter guns to swarm the Noble Sun in an attempt to pound it.
But Hammond had a contingency plan even for this onslaught. He fell behind the fleet so the ships ahead could surround his with cover fire. This was Hammond’s defense posture Omicron Beta.
Had he stayed inside the fleet, none of his companion ships could have fired at the Talons without hitting him. In this way they could lay heavy fire around his ship and kill any attack craft with relative ease, or so it seemed. The Talons, those that had been hit anyway, had run headlong into the cover fire, more or less on their own volition and to their own destruction.
After finding it impossible to get through the thick firewall, over time the Talons turned back toward their carrier to refuel.
Unbeknownst to them, Tolamain, their carrier, was already in trouble. Standing alone against Long Bow, her every cannon opened up to give good on the fast approaching cruiser. An exchange of serious cannon fire left both its launch bays in flames, launch bays the Talons desperately needed but could no longer use.
With the carrier Tolamain badly crippled, the Talons in retreat would have nothing but the carrier, Prometheus on which to land. But even in that, they found only reason to curse.
Young captain Torrington’s Long Bow continued to fire on Tolamain until he was certain nothing could launch from or land on it anytime soon.
Then Torrington came around his first target only to find the other carrier, Prometheus, heading away at full speed.
The Prometheus’ Captain had seen what befell Tolamain. Rather than face Long Bow with no aid of escort, he chose to abandon the struggle. This action left the Talons with no carrier at all on which to land.
If Torrington chased after Prometheus, he could find himself cut off from the Providence fleet altogether. This would put his crew in grave danger. There is strength in numbers, and Hammond wouldn’t tolerate any of his ships going it singlehandedly, nor would he allow them to run from a fight, as did the Prometheus carrier.
The Long Bow’s skipper, Captain Jonathon Torrington, although a young man of twenty-four, had distinguished himself under fire several times over. He was able and disciplined, and his crew counted on him to be a team player.
In times past, as had every seasoned ship’s captain, he had found himself cutoff from his fleet and had to fight his way back to the safety of numbers.
This day, as he brought his ship around the smoldering carrier, the returning Talons had indeed done just that—cut him off from his fleet to block the way home, and to safety. Despite this, Torrington remained calm. “Shields to full, Mr. Childers. Bring us to heading 354-16-12. Full speed, please.”
“Aye, Captain,” Childers responded. “Shields to full. Course heading toward our fleet. Anything to the guns?”
Keeping his tone self-assured, Torrington studied the main view screen. “Negative. Gunnery can’t lock onto those Talons. And to try for a lucky shot is just a waste of time and energy. We’ll survive this if we move.” Just then something fast shot over the Long Bow’s right shoulder and headed toward the Talons.
“Who fired that?” He studied the bridge’s huge view screen. It looked as if someone launched a rocket toward the Talons. There would be the devil to pay if any of his men had acted on his own.
“Negative, sir” said Childers. “It’s not ours.”
Torrington took his chair and focused on the screen. One Talon after the next exploded in a brilliant flash. Something small moved incredibly fast in and between the Talons, hitting each one hard. The formation broke up and began to move away. “What’s going on, Commander? Give me as much intel as you can.”
Childers glanced back and shook his head. “All I can tell you, Captain, is it’s a manned ship far more maneuverable than a Talon. It’s fast all right, but only about a third the size of the ships it’s killing. I’ve seen nothing like it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What’s the sitch, Archer?” Ericca considered his expression.
It wouldn’t pay to start the game by shooting the good guys. She watched Archer’s eyes drop to study his scanner. “Nearest us is a medium-heavy cruiser—a Providence ship—but it’s cut off from the rest of the fleet by a wall of Talons. I say that should be our first rescue.”
“Roger, Archer. Let’s keep it tight and right.” Ericca teased the controls and Viper shifted almost imperceptibly to skirt Coredei’s atmosphere and head in to the raging battle.
Archer swung his guns right, then left to test them. “You going to join the conversation, sis, or will I be the only one speaking for us?”
She hit a switch. Bow covers slid back into the ship. Her nose guns extended. “No, no. I’m more than happy to say my piece.”
“You going to punctuate your every sentence with a period?”
“Several actually, Phiton charged periods, to be exact.”
Archer chuckled. “I’m sure they’ll get your meaning, sis.”
Before the big ship detected it, Viper shot full speed past the Long Bow.
The Talons formed up to strike the Long Bow in force. Ericca reduced speed suddenly and entered the mix. Riley picked off one Talon after the next before Ericca was able to join him in his efforts.
She glanced at her monitor. Archer shook his head as he chuckled to himself.
“So, Archer. What’s got you so amused?”
“Oh, I was just thinking that this is a common Talon tactic. I wonder how the Talon pilots like their own medicine. We’re taking the role they play as the smaller, more nimble vessel.”
But unlike the Confederation fighters, the little ship that attacked them carried one-shot wonders. One hit from its guns tore through each Talon unhindered to rip away wing, gun rack, engine, or canopy. The pilots of the hurt ships began to either launch an escape pod, or limp away. Those killed began to drift. The rest turned their attention from Long Bow to Viper.
A hail of charged bullets s
lammed Viper’s bow. The small ship pitched wildly.
“Blast! Lost a gun, Archer.”
Archer returned fire for fire and two more Talons burst into flame.
Ericca worked to regain control of her spinning craft, when another volley clipped Viper’s rear. Engine two died. She gritted her teeth and watched as Viper’s bow gun lined up on other Talons. She pulled the trigger. The remaining gun spit death and two more Talons exploded.
Even with Viper spinning out of control, Archer’s guns were fierce as he continued to take out Talon after Talon.
A string of fire ran the length of Viper, and her right winglet fell away, taking that cannon with it. One fixed-in-place bow gun. One cannon on a turret. And more Talons had turned toward them.
“This is it, little brother,” Ericca said. “Shields are down. If the next volley doesn’t rip us to shreds, the canopy will vanish in another moment. Power is nearly gone.”
Archer reached forward and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
Abruptly, every Talon coming at them suddenly veered away. Something blotted out the Coredei sun, and the stars vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Amazed by the enemy’s chatter, Hammond’s cryptographers listened intently. They had broken the Confederation’s communication codes some time back and now heard fear sweep through the Confederation fleet.
Apparently, a stunned Admiral Talbot was receiving calls from every sector. He had lost one Talon after the next and couldn’t understand why. Something about a secret weapon launched from Long Bow that, with little effort, was tearing apart the little ships. Long Bow had destroyed the Tolamain (or so they thought,) most of the Talons, and now was working over the big ships without mercy.
When Hammond’s cryptographers pieced together the true sense of the communiqués, they sent Hammond the information. What they had intercepted were calls for help from the Confederation ships, and, because of these reports, Hammond soon realized the newcomer had hastened victory’s approach.
This was a chance to end the clash so much sooner than he had anticipated. If Hammond acted quickly even more lives could be saved. “Hail the Prince Michele,” he ordered.
Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) Page 16