“Screwed,” Scoggins finished for him. Turning to Absen, she asked, “What do we do, sir?”
Absen grasped the rail in front of him. “Transmit to all ships: engage more closely. All main batteries to concentrate on the flagship. Tell the Meme to get in there and use fusors at point blank range. The enemy have to be reeling and in shock. Now’s the time to pile on.”
“Transmitted,” Johnstone said. “But sir, if I may…they fired their graser on schedule when they took out Constitution. That doesn’t indicate they’re in bad shape.”
“No choice, Commander. We have to try.” Absen looked down at Okuda. “How long until we can pulse again?”
“Twelve minutes, realtime, sir.”
“Crap.” Absen stared at the fight as his fleet dwindled under the pounding of plasma torpedoes and graser fire. He could see Johnstone was right. The enemy flagship had ceased tumbling and now flew serenely forward, beams lancing out regularly to often spear and annihilate another of his precious ships, despite their evasive maneuvers.
“They won’t last twelve minutes, sir. You have to pull them out,” Scoggins said urgently.
“You’re right, Captain. Johnstone, transmit for everyone to bug out and head for home. Tell them to preserve themselves and regroup near Luna for a final stand. The Meme too.”
Fifteen minutes later, a pulse had brought Conquest and the remaining five TacDrive-equipped cruisers of TF Alpha into the Earth-Moon space, but without conventional drive, the orbital shipyards might as well have been on Jupiter. Repair bots worked at high speed to do what they could, but without the specialized equipment and spare parts of the space docks, there was only so much that could be done.
One hour remained before the flagship and its attendant swarm of three million or so remaining craft arrived, allowing just enough time to put energy for two TacDrive pulses in Conquest’s capacitors. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re down to our final throws of the dice,” Absen said, looking around at his faithful bridge officers. “The simulations show we can’t beat the flagship in a slugfest. Its grasers are too powerful and accurate. Earth can, however, win the war against the remaining swarm craft alone, even if they all reach the ground for an assault. That means our only option is to turn our remaining six TacDrive ships into SLAMs.”
Scoggins, Ford and the rest stared at their admiral, some shaking their heads, others swallowing and nodding. None seemed able to muster an argument against his declaration.
Absen went on, “There’s just enough time to evacuate. Michelle –”
Michelle’s avatar braced to attention. “I understand, sir. I’m the only one that can’t actually abandon ship, so I’ll control the other cruisers and their attempts, and then send myself in last if I have to.”
“If there was any other way –”
“I know. Sir, you need to get going.”
“Yes, we do.” Absen turned to Johnstone. “Send my orders and make them plain. All hands of TF Alpha to abandon ship. No arguments, no disobedience, no heroics. We need everyone to stay alive and defend Earth, not make pointless gestures. Signal to all ships in orbit to assist in recover of craft and pods. Move!”
Captain Scoggins nodded as the CyberComms officer passed the word to the cruisers. “COB, coordinate the evacuation. Michelle, you assist. Tell the BioMed staff to grab their aid bags, because we’re going to have a shitload of sick people dumping out of VR in about one minute. Tell them to do whatever it takes to get them off this ship, because in about fifty minutes the window will close.”
With this reminder, Absen belatedly remembered that everyone would have to reenter the real world, with its difficulties and dirtiness. A part of him rebelled, pleading to remain inside the virtuality even if it meant staying aboard to die as Conquest threw herself against the enemy once again.
Stiffening his resolve, Absen said, “Michelle, make sure everyone gets out of VR. Disable the overrides, no excuses. Use your bots to drag them out of their coffins and pile them like cordwood in the assault sleds if you have to. Everyone is evacuating. Oh, tell Bull to use his Marines to help.” They hadn’t been in VR at all, so they should be unaffected by the syndrome.
“That means you too, sir,” Michelle replied.
“Give me a minute,” Absen said.
“Sorry, sir, already initiated the sequence.”
“Dammit –”
Abruptly, the world dissolved around him and he found himself coughing as tubes withdrew from his throat and nose. He felt the stab of needles as injectors pumped brain stabilizers and stims into his veins, and he rolled partially out of the enclosure to vomit on the deck.
Next to him he saw Timmons reach for his coffee maker before he’d even gotten out of the crash couch. “Cuppa joe’ll fix you right up, sir,” the COB said.
“Thanks,” Absen replied as the stink of hot metal and fear hit him. Smell was deprioritized in VR, so upon reentering the real world, it was always one of the first things he noticed. Forcing himself to sit, and then stand, he took the cup of lifer-juice Timmons offered him and drank. “Mm.”
“Told you, boss.” The COB drank his own with one hand while tapping at his board with the other.
Half an hour later, Absen sat in the cockpit of a pinnace en route to Armstrong Lunar Base, staring at its wholly inadequate tactical display. Behind him, Scoggins and the rest of the bridge crew were packed in among others of Conquest’s personnel, whoever happened to be up next to board the craft. Without Conquest’s screens and holotank, bereft of his faithful AI assistant, he felt nearly helpless.
Get over it, Henrich, he told himself. You had a lot less when you skippered a submarine. Besides, the stage is set, the band is playing, the makeup won’t come off and there’s nothing you can do about it. The show must go on.
A tap on his shoulder made him turn to see Michelle’s avatar standing there, bringing a surge of relief. “How are you holding up, Admiral?” she asked.
“Michelle! How…of course, you’re telefactoring. I wish…”
“You wish this body was really me? I know what you mean, sir. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve downloaded a copy of myself into several different mainframes. I don’t know whether they will be me when they are uploaded, or even if they will represent true AI, but it’s the best I can do. At least you’ll know everything I do.”
Absen clapped the android on its shoulder, forcing himself not to think of it as her. “If any of us are alive to tell about it, Michelle, I’ll make sure you’re remembered and honored among Earth’s heroes.”
“Thank you, sir.” The android slipped its palm into his, and he didn’t reject this unusual breach of protocol. They remained that way for several minutes.
“The flagship is coming into effective graser range,” Michelle said, letting go of Absen’s hand. “We’ve lost another frigate.”
“Tell them to back off. Run around to the other side of the planet until that big mother gets close enough to hurt. No need to stand there like a bunch of Napoleonic soldiers taking cannon fire.”
“I’ve passed on your orders, sir. They’re falling back.”
“When are our fireships launching?”
“When you tell me, Admiral. I suggest we do it soon. Once our other ships are out of sight, they might become the targets of the graser and we’ll lose their use.”
Absen nodded. “Good point. How long until the moon lasers have the flagship in effective range?”
“About five minutes, sir, though they can start firing now at reduced effect.”
“Have them open fire. The distraction might save the fireships.”
“Aye aye, sir.” A pause. “They’re opening fire.”
Without his holotank, Absen could only imagine as the six heavy laser arrays reached out millions of kilometers and began to chip away at the enemy flagship. He would have rather waited in order to strike hard with the first blow, perhaps surprising the Scourge, but right now the six fireships were his best chance. Two had torn away mos
t of the enemy’s ablative layer; if only one of the six got through to impact in its hull…
“We just lost Helsinki, sir.”
“Dammit.” That was one of the fireships. “Launch them now, all together on converging courses. Then…follow them immediately if that doesn’t do it.”
“Yes, sir. Cruisers in pulse. Explosions registering.”
Absen held his breath, seeing nothing of significance on the small display in front of him. “Report, Michelle. What happened?”
Michelle’s voice fell. “They failed, sir. The Scourge must have anticipated them. The swarm craft in the way were especially dense and knocked them all off course.”
“Can they try again?”
“I’m attempting to line them up again and pulse backward, but…no, sir. They’re all too heavily damaged. They’ve lost most of their forward inertial field emitters. If they tried to pulse now, they’d fall apart like glass under the Gs.”
Absen turned to look into the almost-human face of the avatar. “Good luck, then, Michelle.”
“Thank you sir.” She blinked. “Goodbye, sir.”
He found himself suddenly looking at a dead thing, frozen in place like a statue, all light gone out of its superbly simulated eyes. “Goodbye, Michelle,” he said, fighting to keep his face from cracking in front of his subordinates. “Good hunting,” he whispered.
“Goodbye, Michelle,” echoed several people behind him, and Absen grimaced.
Abruptly, the android came to life again. “Sir, something’s happening.”
“Michelle? Thank God.”
The avatar shoved forward between Absen, and the pilot. Her index finger extended a data plug to mate with a port on the cockpit console. A moment later, the main screen changed to show a close-up of the area around the flagship.
“I’m feeding this display directly so you can see what’s going on, sir,” Michelle said.
“Then what the hell is that?” Absen said, pointing at the vessel on the screen, a shape like a stubby-headed lizard with short, blunt feet. It hung in space directly behind the enemy flagship.
Chapter 25
Ezekiel began pulling on his yellows before he came fully awake. Something made him want to wear the color today; the Sekoi wouldn’t object, and as for the Ryss…well, perhaps he was getting cranky in his middle age, but today, their prejudices didn’t mean much to him.
Maybe it was a matter of returning in triumph to his home system, feeling pretty good about the mission he and his fellow viceroys had complete. Gliese 370 was as secure as it could be, the political situation was under control, and now it was time to turn his attention to making progress on the home front. Therefore, when his cabin door opened without even a knock, at least he was dressed.
“Forgive the intrusion, Ezekiel, but you are urgently needed on the bridge.” Demolisher’s voice proceeded from an electrical utility cart waiting in the passageway.
Ezekiel hopped aboard, and within minutes had been whisked directly to the enormous control center. On the way, he sent a command to wake up Steadfast Roger – slowly.
As he strode in, he saw concern on the faces of everyone there; the humans’ voices were filled with tension as they passed terse orders, the Ryss paced and made hissing sounds, and even the few imperturbable Sekoi were on their feet, staring at the large displays on the three walls.
“What is it?” Ezekiel said to the Ryss captain as he ran up the steps to the captain’s chair.
The big cat gestured at the screen to the fore. “The Scourge are here, sir. Wreckage is everywhere. Seven mothership cores remain in solar orbit. A battle is taking place near Earth.”
“Mother of heaven. We have to help!”
“I am awaiting word that all key personnel have recovered from sedation and critical stations are manned.”
Ezekiel stared at the screen, which showed a long-range and shaky shot of a confused fight, Earth and the Moon hanging in the background. “People are dying, Captain!”
“I will not order this ship into battle unprepared. Besides, we have insufficient power for TacDrive. Demolisher, what is our status?”
The AI replied, “Eighty-six percent of stations reporting. Capacitors charged to eleven percent. TacDrive pulse available in approximately three and one half minutes.”
The Ryss turned to Ezekiel. “You see, Viceroy? We must wait for TacDrive energy in any case, but if we pulse in as soon as we can, we will have no power reserves in our capacitors. If we are hasty, we may find ourselves in a fight we cannot win.”
“Why the hell did we use up all our power and arrive with none?” Ezekiel realized once he’d spoken that he sounded petulant, but hadn’t been able to help himself.
“It is costly in power to climb upward against the stellar gradient. Gliese 370 is a smaller star than Sol.
Ezekiel forced himself not to berate the captain for his lack of foresight. There should have been some way to make sure they had at least one pulse in the tank when they came out. He spoke mildly. “How long until we have full power?”
“Forty-four minutes.”
Ezekiel turned agonized eyes to the display. “Captain, what’s your name?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Kassir, Viceroy.”
“Call me Ezekiel, please. I know I don’t have any military authority, but permit me to advise you.”
“Of course, Ezekiel.”
“If I read the display correctly, that fight is taking place nearly within heavy weapons range of Earth.”
“That is true.”
Ezekiel looked upward. “Demolisher, what are we facing?”
“Approximately two million swarm craft. I also detect one Scourge vessel that masses several times what I do.”
“Even bigger than you?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit. That’s their only capital ship? No mothership cores or cruisers or anything?”
“That is correct.”
Ezekiel shook his head. “No wonder Absen’s getting his ass kicked. Can you estimate how long we have until the battle is over?”
“The data is sparse from this far away, but based on apparent rates of attrition, I would say between thirty-five and sixty-five minutes.”
“And we’re about seven light-minutes from Earth?”
“Correct.”
Ezekiel lowered his head to look into Kassir’s vertical-slitted golden eyes. “Captain, I believe we must leave within the next twenty-eight minutes or we risk arriving too late.”
Kassir’s ears twitched left and right as if listening for an answer, and he lowered his head, gazing about his bridge. “We will have only thirty percent power after the pulse that carries us to the fight, but it will have to do.” He raised his voice. “Make all ready, warriors. We depart in twenty-five minutes.”
That span of time seemed the longest of Ezekiel’s life, and he distracted himself by communicating with Roger and readying him for launch, if necessary. He debated boarding his ship so as to depart immediately upon arrival near Earth, but his reason overrode his instinct in this case. With so many Scourge small craft swarming through the battle-space, they would likely tear his one small Meme ship apart in seconds.
No, he was much safer aboard the heavily armed and armored Ryss superdreadnought.
Although “safe” was a relative term, given that no doubt Demolisher would soon become a big, fat target.
Eventually, Ezekiel heard Kassir speak as the chrono counted down to departure time. “Confirm all weapons ports closed.” Unlike EarthFleet’s slap-on point-defense lasers, Demolisher had armored turrets installed by millions of construction robots, the same ones that had been employed building Desolator’s progeny, of which this ship was one.
“Weapons ports closed.”
“Sensors retracted.”
“Retracted, aye.”
While Ezekiel bit his nails, Kassir ran calmly through a checklist of all major weapons and systems such as fusion drive, particle beams, aerospace drones, warb
ots, warcars, missiles and warrior brigades.
At least we shouldn’t have any problem with assault landings, Ezekiel thought. Not with ten million Ryss warriors aboard.
Finally, all was in readiness. Kassir spoke. “Demolisher, initiate TacDrive pulse when ready. Drop us at optimal main beam range. Weapons officers, pass the word to all subsections: general engagement, immediate fire on all targets at your own discretion.”
Before the murmured acknowledgements had completed, Ezekiel felt Demolisher’s TacDrive kick in. Only seconds of subjective time later, the pulse dropped, seven minutes of lightspeed transit compressed to moments by relativistic effects.
The displays jumped and flickered. When they cleared, the enemy’s super-dreadnought appeared dead center. Immediately, a dozen of Demolisher’s heavy particle beams, each larger than Conquest’s triple array, lashed across a million kilometers, slicing pieces off the enemy.
“What the hell is that stuff?” Ezekiel asked as the flagship seemed to be falling apart in front of his very eyes. Before anyone could answer, he was thrown to the deck as Demolisher’s structure groaned.
“Exawatt power energy weapon strike, starboard shoulder,” called one of the officers, a human. “A gamma ray laser, I believe, Captain. Heavy damage; two particle cannon down; more than ten percent power grid loss.”
“Weapons officer, coordinate fire on the center of that flagship and volley,” Kassir snarled. “Helm, all ahead flank. Helical course to disrupt their targeting.”
Demolisher surged ahead, twisting ponderously, its thousands of point defense lasers blazing at full rate of fire. “Captain, many assault craft are avoiding our defenses to land on our hull,” reported one Ryss watchstander.
“Inform War Commander Sator to repel boarders,” Kassir replied. “Fire the particle beam volley!”
“Firing!”
The forward viewscreen whited out. When it cleared again, Ezekiel could see the enemy flagship venting plasma into space in a conflagration like a Meme fusor. Pieces of the unknown material clung to its hull, giving it the overall shape of a crumpled piece of paper.”
Conquest and Empire (Stellar Conquest Series Book 5) Page 24