by Chris Hechtl
The Federation officer held up his hand. “Save it. I don't need nor want to hear your sob story. Quite frankly, I don't give a damn. You are a thief and a liar anyway. A pirate. All I want to know is, are you going to surrender? Or do I get the pleasure of blowing you out of space?”
Admiral Genshi Tatsumora looked at his counterpart for a long mournful moment. He sent a signal to his people through his implants and then replied. “Well, if that's what it takes to survive, yo ho ho, call me a pirate, matee, Arrr.” He nodded to his flag lieutenant. “You may open fire,” he said, settling himself back in his chair.
“Shit,” a rating muttered as ECM and then weapons fire began to blossom on the plot. “Sir, we've got jamming and multiple incoming!”
“Defensive formation, Alpha one,” the admiral replied, frowning. He'd thought the bastard would back down, beg for mercy as his Marines boarded. Great shots for the media, which would catapult him further into the spotlight and eventually lead to his retiring and throwing his hat in the political ring, where the real power was.
Obviously, he'd been wrong about their resolve though, he thought in a corner of his mind. From the look of the plot, very wrong. He was still astonished to see anyone would willingly take on the Federation. They had to know where this would lead, right?
“Sir, our fighters are being engaged by enemy fighters. The CAG has authorized fire at will but it’s waiting on your order to launch the reserve strike,” Captain Zera said.
“Tell him…” The admiral studied the plot and then the numbers. He didn't like the look of it. The Exiles may have obsolete equipment, but they more than made up for it in courage and sheer tenacity. He'd already lost ten fighters. An unknown ship about the size of a destroyer was moving in between the Exile's noncombat fleet and the growing furball.
“Sir, we're in extreme missile range,” Captain Zera reported. “Shall we let the range fall before we fire, sir?”
The admiral shook his head no. “No, we need to finish this,” he said. He was already writing his report mentally, as well as the press clippings and media interviews that would certainly come along after the engagement was concluded in his favor. “Set up a broadside. That will take the starch out of their shorts,” the admiral said.
Captain Zera frowned but nodded, tapping at his station controls. “Ten percent of our missile allotment and five percent of our penetration aides have been targeted, Admiral, and awaiting your order under attack plan Charlie,” Captain Zera reported a moment later.
“Only ten?”
“We don't know what we're up against, sir, and missiles are expensive,” Zera replied.
The admiral scowled but then nodded. He could already hear the bean counters and IG asswipes crawling all over him for using such and such amount of power or missiles. The fighter losses alone…he shook his head. That would be on the CAG's shoulders he thought.
“Launch on my command,” the admiral rumbled, standing. He raised his hand, then dropped it. “Engage,” he ordered, knowing the bit of theater would play well for the press clippings.
One thousand five hundred missiles were fired from the three cruisers, two destroyers, ten corvettes and dreadnaught. They took their telemetry feed from their mother ships for the first critical boost phase of their journey.
“Enemy is picking up speed and adjusting their heading. They are running,” a rating reported.
Admiral Waldecke grinned, knowing he now had the advantage.
“I was afraid of that,” Captain Zera said, popping the admiral's elation. The admiral turned to him. “Sir, the missiles were fired at extreme range and were based on our enemy's observed course and speed. The change in speed and direction will open the range for them and allow them longer intercept times,” he warned.
“Not a problem,” the admiral waved.
“Sir, a second and third destroyer has fallen behind the fleet and joined the first,” a rating reported.
“See?” the admiral demanded, grinning. “Engineering casualties no doubt. They've pushed their civilian crap too hard too fast,” he said smugly.
“No, sir, it was a deliberate change of course,” Zera said, shaking his head as he looked at the plot. “And we don't have technical readings of that class of ship.”
“It's a tin can!” the admiral snarled. “What harm can it possibly do?” He growled, just as the missiles finished their boost phase and their drives shut down into the coast phase of their journey. The enemy's course change had cost the missiles time on their running clocks, eating into the time they would have for their final engagement.
“I…sir! Enemy fighters and bombers have launched from what CIC believes is a pair of destroyer-sized carriers! AWAC Eyes one reports another ship of similar make attacking its sensors!” A rating said, voice rising in slight fear.
“Easy,” another murmured to her.
“This isn't good…tell the CAG to send the reserves in,” the admiral said, studying the plot. It was obvious a deep strike; bombers escorted by the fighters to hit at his capital ships while his main force of fighters were tied up. He'd have to divert his ships to defensive action and abort the long range engagement soon, he thought darkly.
“Sir, the missile spread is about to enter the engagement zone of…sir! Missiles are being engaged at long range by the three destroyers behind the enemy fleet!”
“The rear guard,” Zera said softly, nodding as he rubbed his chin. “Dedicated defensive destroyer platforms, most likely Aegis or some other format. Ingenious really,” he said. “They must sacrifice their on-board weapons to hold that many missiles though,” he said as counter missile swarms fired from the three ships.
“Damn it!” Admiral Waldecke snarled, clenching his fists. “We need to pin them against the planet or sun, keep them from jumping out,” he growled.
“Sir, we're too far out. If we change course now on course four by four point one by nine we might keep them in the engagement zone.”
“I don't want a running fight; I want to finish them!” Waldeck snarled, watching impotently as his spread of missiles were hammered. Holes appeared in their ranks as nuclear weapons went off, tearing them apart. But the remaining swarm kept coming. When they got past the second flight of counter missiles, the destroyers lit with energy weapons; these cut down the remaining missiles.
“Can we pin them? Jump half the force to blockade them and then pin them against the gas giant and our battle line?” Waldecke demanded, turning on Zera.
Zera frowned. “Sir, to do that we'd divide our forces and invite defeat in detail,” he said. “And a short range jump is…risky,” he said.
“Do it. Send…” the admiral checked his forces and then nodded. “Send the screen, fighters and destroyers. They are faster. Their orders are to pin the bastards, make them turn. We're still outside the hyperspace zone; we hold the edge here. By god, I'm going to use it,” he growled.
“Aye, sir,” Zera said neutrally. “This is going to get ugly, sir; they are protecting their families,” he warned.”
“So be it,” Admiral Waldecke said expansively.
“We should let our people be aware of possible suicide tactics, sir.”
“Ramming?” The admiral demanded, turning on him. “It won't come to that,” he said.
“A desperate cornered man will do things others wouldn't dream of, sir,” Zera warned him. “Especially if his children are on the line,” he warned.
“Well, see that it doesn't happen then!” the admiral snarled. “Is the jump set up?” he growled.
Zera nodded. “Captain Brent is awaiting your order, sir,” he said.
The admiral raised his hand and then dropped it fast. “Go!” he growled. “Jump!”
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
The main fighter furball turned out to be a draw. Both sides withdrew their forces to rearm and refuel. The bomber strike was a bluff; AWACS planes sent out to spoof a bomber strike. They did, however, have escorting fighters which turned on the Federation AWACS and fig
hters. The AWACS tried to run but were torn apart. The fighters were already near bingo fuel and ammunition; their rear ranks were savaged by missile strikes before they ran out of range. Once they did the enemy fighters changed course for the planet.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
The fleet screen made up of her corvettes and destroyers jumped out then back to cut off retreating exiles. But the exiles changed course, cutting in tight to the planet and away from the screen. “Are they insane? That tight? Are they going to scuttle their ships?” the admiral demanded angrily. He needed at least a couple ships to parade through Federation space to help boost his approval.
“Sir, they may be performing a sling shot,” a rating warned, projecting the enemy course, then a sling shot around the planet. “The problem is, we won't know which way they'll go if they do,” she said.
“Can we cut them off?” a lieutenant asked, then frowned at the engagement zone. He shook his head. “No, I see. If we try a head-on, we'd be facing the wrong way for anyone who got past the main fleet,” he murmured. “If they perform the sling shot, that could be a trick,” he said thoughtfully.
Admiral sat in his chair, aware of the trap he was now facing. The enemy commander was good. He'd set up several contingency issues here, and Waldecke was torn on which to cover. The lieutenant was right; the enemy could keep right on going while his own forces expected a sling shot. Or they could go off on a tangent his forces didn't expect! Damn it! He thought, clenching his fists and banging the arm rest. To be wrong! He snarled mentally to himself.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
“Sir, we're behind the planet. Our wake is clear,” a rating reported, turning to the admiral.
Admiral Tatusmora nodded thoughtfully. Now was where the real investment paid off if he was right. He'd studied his opponent; he was fairly certain Waldecke was quaking in his boots right now, dithering about which way to jump. Well, it was time to help him decide, Genshi thought with a small feral smile.
“Time to go to phase three,” Genshi said, nodding to his exec. The young woman nodded back and then spoke softly into her hush mike as she pulled up a to-do list. Small platforms were kicked off the fleet, and the civilian ships went to full power, running for the inner system and the dubious safety of the void.
Meanwhile, the warships cut their power and went into stealth mode. The platforms kicked off in a third direction, lighting up to mimic the drive and sensor emissions of the fleet. After a moment the civilian ships cut their drives and emissions, and then they too went into stealth.
It was a risky gamble, one he wasn't sure would pay off. If the enemy admiral had been smart, he would have sent a probe on a polar approach to the planet to get a look behind it. There was no telling if they had, and he wouldn't know if this plan worked for another…he checked the clock and then nodded, settling himself in his chair. Another five minutes, he thought.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
“Sir, enemy has gone wide instead of a sling shot. They are diving for the negative Z axis of the star system,” Captain Zera told him.
“Send the screen in to cut them off,” Waldecke ordered. “Order Philadelphia's group to follow. Status on Halsey?”
“She's lost half her fighters, sir. Bombers are still untouched though,” Zera said instantly. Waldecke nodded. That was one of the things he liked about his chief of staff; he knew when to anticipate his admiral and knew when to point out things Waldecke may have missed.
“Sir, the screen has changed course as ordered. Captain Brent reports he'll be in long range engagement range shortly,” a rating reported.
“Good,” the admiral rumbled. “Tell Halsey to expedite. We'll need those fighters soon,” he said. “Does intel have anything new on the ships?”
“Several new classes, sir, including the defensive ship. We've identified another new ship class, the same size, but apparently a carrier. The computer is labeling it an escort carrier, sir,” the intel officer reported.
“And why am I just hearing about this now?” Waldecke asked menacingly.
“We, um, just confirmed it, sir, after going over the records and plot. We, um, were looking for their carriers and missed it in the first sweep,” the lieutenant admitted.
“Fine,” Waldecke said icily. “Continue. Numbers?” he demanded. “Do we have some sort of organization of the scum?”
“I wouldn't label them that, sir; they've fought professionally so far,” Captain Zera cautioned.
“I'll label them any way I please,” Waldecke growled. “Numbers?”
“Warship count is mixed with the range and ECM they were using; we couldn't get a definitive number of some types. We've identified several larger ships, cruisers or pocket battleships, Admiral,” Captain Zera warned.
“They were on the far side of the enemy fleet sir, away from us. I'm…I'm wondering if that was deliberate or not. Hiding their real abilities,” the lieutenant said.
“Perhaps,” the admiral mused. “Or they aren't real warships,” he grumbled.
“Sir! The screen!” A rating said urgently, pointing to the plot.
Waldecke looked up just in time to see warships come out of stealth behind Brent's screen and launch from midrange. Escort carriers launched fighters and tore the Federation screen apart in minutes.
“Damn it!” Waldecke swore, slamming a meaty fist against the armrest.
“Now it's our turn,” a rating said softly.
“Who said that?” Waldecke demanded, looking about the bridge. “I said who?” he snarled. “I'll have them spaced for defeatism!” he snarled.
“We can worry about that later, sir,” Captain Zera said. “The enemy is reforming. A bomber strike is in space and on its way here,” he said.
“Order the CAG to expedite the launch. Get those fighters into space. Target is the incoming bombers. Tear them a new one,” he growled.
“With pleasure, sir,” a rating replied.
“What about the other ships?”
“We've still got missiles, use them. Set up a full spread; this time don't spare the missiles.”
“Sir?” Captain Zera asked, staring. “We'll shoot ourselves dry, sir,” he warned.
“Do it,” Waldecke ordered. “Blast the bastards into splinters,” he growled.
Waldecke fired another missile engagement, but the defensive destroyers, AWACS and fighters tore it apart. He moved in on a head-on engagement but was hammered. The enemy ships ignored Philadelphia and instead hammered his cruisers one by one into wreckage. Exile ships died as well, but they took a toll on his forces, one he couldn't sustain.
“Halsey reports bombers repulsed, sir,” a rating said, getting back to his feet. He then knelt in front of his station. His chair had snapped when a spar had come up through the deck, slamming him into the bulkhead. He was a bit woozy but still in the fight.
“Sitrep?”
“All cruisers destroyed. We've hit them back though, Admiral, hit them hard. At least one of their battle cruisers has been destroyed and ten of their other ships.”
“Yes, but that leaves six more battle cruisers plus the escort carriers and screening ships,” Captain Zera warned.
“We can still win this,” Waldecke growled. “Damage report?”
“Working on it, sir. We've got full drive and sensors, but we've lost half the starboard shields and weapons,” a rating said.
“And Nathan?” Captain Zera asked.
The rating shook his head. “Casualties on the bridge were total, sir, no survivors. Sickbay reported Captain Yed died moments ago.”
“Damn,” Zera muttered. “What next?” he asked.
“We're at a lull, sir, we've broken through their lines. Both sides are looping back to engage as per your orders,” the intel rating said, cradling his shattered right arm. “We're outnumbered now though. Each of those escort carriers are a quarter of our fleet carrier's compliment, but they have a lot more platforms to make up for it. And apparently, they are bringing up more as we speak, sir.”
“They have reserves. We don't,” Zera said uncomfortably.
“We're still going to win this,” Waldecke vowed.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
Admiral Tatsumora tapped his fingers against the arm rest, studying the plot. The engagement had gone just about as well as he'd expected, but it could still very well go the wrong way with a misstep. His people were doing good, and he could see from the numbers that they were settling down nicely. His three missile destroyers taking out that initial broadside, not to mention the fighters holding their own in their engagements, had gone a long way to picking up his people's morale.
He'd done what he'd set out to do—drawn off Waldecke, blooded his own people and gained some vital battle experience. The tactical data and his own experience helped a bit too. He'd realized right off it would be a tough thing for his young patience to deal with, but he'd honestly thought he could handle the stress. Now he knew he could, but it would still be hard.
They'd gained some nice tactical data, but he knew the enemy had too. But they'd also stuffed themselves with cargo the extractors had mined in the belts and fuel from the gas giant. That was a bonus. Now if the Guild had held up their end of the plan…he frowned thoughtfully.
He knew the capital ships were big boys, his battle cruisers were his heaviest units. They could take on the large dreadnaught, and certainly run down and take out the carrier with ease. But the dreadnaught was a problem. His battle cruisers were like wolves against a bear. It would take the full pack to take the ship down, but they'd lose a lot in the process. He wasn't ready to lose that much, at least not yet. But Waldecke was the stubborn pigheaded sort. He'd already thrown good money after bad in this engagement, now he was in too deep to quit. There was one last card to play he thought with a smile. One that should get under the good Fed's skin and make him think twice about sticking his head further into the noose. Time to make a call.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
“Sir, we're receiving a call from the enemy,” a rating reported quietly.