by Don Foxe
“If the Zenge are addicted to superior numbers, the first ship will ease off, allowing the two trailing to catch up. The Star Gazer is an easy target, so they might not wait on the rest of their battle group.
“We have to assume they want the Star Gazer whole. The value is in the ship, and the number of people aboard. They won’t come in guns hot, especially when we cut engines. They’ll see the stop as a sign of surrender.”
“You believe taking on three Zenge battle ships at once is a better strategy than taking on one or even two?” Captain Poonch asked, not with a tone of incredulity, but with honest curiosity.
“Surprise has won more battles than superior numbers,” Coop said, captain to captain. “Even if I take out the first ship now, it gives the others time to reconsider their positions, and prepare for a hard target. If we wait, the surprise factor alone may make them hesitate, and doubt what they thought they knew. In a fight, hesitation will get you killed.”
“The plan is for me to divert as much power to the forcefield generator as feasible,” began the Bosine, “five hours from now. You, and your ship will once again exit the forward hangar, and this time attack the three Zenge Primary ships.”
“Sky will join me on Angel 7. Storm will monitor and control communications from your command bridge.”
Which elicited an immediate and forceful, “Oh, fuck no!” from Storm.
Coop, not a person easily shocked, stared, completely shocked.
“Fuck no?” he asked. “Where did you learn that?”
Marching in front of him, placing a finger into his chest, she said: “From you. Every time you landed on your butt on the mat, or we got a good hit on you with a stick, you would say fuck under your breath. It took a while for the translator to figure it out, but it’s a curse which adds a layer of anger to a statement. So, fuck no, I am not staying on the Star Gazer while you and Sky fight the Zenge.”
The blue beauty, significantly darker hued at the moment, removed her finger and placed her fists on her hips.
“When the ship’s systems are dropped to minimal power they become nearly useless. The com-tac station on your ship will maintain optimal function, even in battle. I can coordinate action from there more efficiently than from a weakened com station here.”
Having provided her opinion, she stepped backward, arms crossed.
The bridge, crowded at the moment, and in that moment the Earth saying you could hear a pin drop seemed appropriate.
“Agreed,” Coop said. “I hadn’t thought about the communications being stronger from Angel. Sky in the right seat, and you on com-tac. Is there anything else?”
Mollified and happy, Storm replied, “Nope. All good here.”
Cooper was not much for jargon. Storm, and Sky, to a great extent, were sounding more like Earth humans than he. Apparently, during down times, the two read books and journals stored on Angel 7’s memory.
He hoped they would live to use it on Earth.
PART 3
The Battle
Chapter 38
The first Primary ship followed 100,000 miles away, when the Star Gazer came to full stop. The other two closed, and now trailed 120,000 miles distant. In two-dimensional terms, the first ship oriented below the Star Gazer. The other two advanced side-by-side and above the Star Gazer.
Pooch's job was to defend his ship. Angel 7’s job was to stop the enemy.
Unless something urgent required communicating, the Star Gazer and Angel 7 observed blackout-silence.
On the assumption the Zenge likely wanted the Star Gazer intact, if Angel 7 failed, Poonch planned to keep defenses up, in hopes the PT-109 would arrive in time.
Coop employed thrusters to push Angel into space. Free of the cruise ship’s hangar, he engaged space-fold immediately. They would jump forward first, return to natural space, change direction, and space-fold again to end up high and behind the two Primary’s furthest away.
When Daniel Cooper entered space-fold, Earth, Fell, and Osperantue entered war with the Zenge.
One minute out, and they were more than a million miles in front of the Star Gazer. A little more than a minute later, and they were above and behind the two trailing ships, now 80,000-miles out, and closing.
Coop flew Angel, while Sky controlled weapons. They came in hot, and Sky let loose a series of laser blasts aimed at the lower stern section. They believed this to be the location of the engines. First ten shots at the ship on her left, and then ten more at the one on the right, as Coop split the ships.
They hoped, caught unaware, the Zenge would not have engaged forcefield. Hope failed. The laser hits physically rocked the two ships, but shields prevented any major damage.
Storm called up to the cockpit. “You scorched both, but no hull penetration. Their forcefields are too strong.”
Cooper performed a loop that would have killed them had he tried it in gravity. Still, it was propitious the three were harnessed in their seats. Flying towards the two Primary at over 100,000mph, Coop fired a nymph round from the railgun at the ship on his port side. Again they slipped through, passing the two enemy ships in a blink.
He called to Storm, “Results?”
“There was a break in the forcefield,” she said. “An EMP gap which lasted about three-seconds before the forcefield recovered. The pulse covered about five-hundred square feet. All three Primaries are turning towards us. They’re releasing multiple laser-cannon fire. It looks like they’re trying to light up the sky.”
“Why would they turn?” Cooper asked. “They have weapons fore, and aft, high, and low. Any of their fire coming our way?”
“All of it coming our way, but it’s such a wide pattern you could get out, and walk between ever shot.”
Sky added her insight. “It’s like the battle on Fell. They do not think in space-terms when they fight. It’s as if their commander needs to point first, and then shoot. Even when they turned, they did a relatively slow one-eighty. They could have flipped around, or stopped, and pivoted. They do not think beyond two dimensions.”
Coop turned to his co-pilot and said, “Sky, I want to try something. I’ll take another run at the first Primary ship, but a little slower. I want to try hitting the com tower with a nymph. As soon as I say, ‘away,’ I want you to target the exact same area, and hit it with multiple bursts from the laser cannons.”
“Laser on away command,” Sky confirmed.
Cooper flew Angel through, and around a half-dozen laser pulses, pivoted towards the Primary ship, coming directly at it like playing a game of chicken. At 20,000 miles he slowed, and at 10,000 miles, with laser bursts sliding past them on all quadrants, he triggered the railgun, and said, “AWAY.”
The minimal time between firing and speaking aloud would give the nymph time to reach the com tower, which it did, create a hole in the forcefield, which it did, and allow the laser fire to arrive a heartbeat later.
“Twelve laser bursts, and twelve hits,” Storm confirmed. “Ship is still under power, but heading away, toward the system’s rim. You probably knocked out their bridge, and flight controls. Forcefield has recovered. The ship is completing its last order before the command center was destroyed.”
“We now know we can create a 500sf EMP zone in their armor. We also know laser fire penetrates their unshielded hulls,” Coop said.
“I’m picking up chatter from that ship to the others. Since we do not have enough examples of Zenge-speak, our translators can’t tell us for sure what they are saying, but I think maybe: ‘Oh, shit, we got trouble.’” It was not necessary for Coop to see Storm to know she was smiling ear to ear.
“They’re changing course. Separating,” Storm added. The Star Gazer was to his left, and the two Zenge ships straight ahead. “They’re making an extended turn again, so they can face us. Maybe their ships don’t have reverse.”
Cooper slowed even more. “You may have something. Maybe they have reverse thrusters for docking, but don’t have reverse engines for maneuvers in spa
ce. You keep saying they only attack, and they always attack in numbers. Perhaps it’s a cultural trait. No reverse, no surrender. No reverse, no retreat. Storm, time?”
“Plus twenty,” she answered. In the twenty minutes since departing the Star Gazer, they crippled a Primary ship, sending it limping toward the edge of the solar system, and discovered major flaws in the enemy’s equipment and tactics.
Surprise, and superior speed decided the first battle. Surprise no longer existed.
The two remaining Zenge ships changed tactics. They came together, one above the other. While the initial battle ranged across the expanse, the following wave of Zenge ships moved nearer, closing to within 60,000 miles. The next wave less than two-hours out.
The merged Zenge Primaries started toward the Star Gazer at 30,000mph. They showed no intention of taking on Angel. Captain Cooper was about to let them know they had no choice in the matter.
He dropped below the horizon, and came from beneath, aiming the railgun at the engine compartment of the lower of the two ships. Before reaching optimal position to put a shot on spot, both ships let loose with torpedoes.
“Torpedoes. Nuclear, kinetic, and explosive,” Storm called. “Guided. Fired from all tubes, and turned toward us as soon as they cleared the ships. Wow!”
“What?” Sky, and Coop yelled in unison.
“They are fast. Faster than the ships that fired them. Over 80,000mph. They will reach us in a two minutes.”
Coop did not hesitate. He put Angel into space-fold for thirty-seconds, came out a half-million miles away, then jumped again into space-fold, emerging 50,000 miles behind the Zenge.
“What are the torpedoes doing?” he asked.
“Bad news,” Storm answered. “With us gone, they picked up the Star Gazer. Contact in forty-five minutes. Coop, some of those torpedoes include nuclear tips. They will have the same effect on the Star Gazer’s forcefield, as the nymphs have on theirs. Even with the extra padding, the nukes will create an opening in the field for any following torpedoes.”
Cooper throttled forward, came to within 1,000 miles of the cruise ship, and cut engines.
“Torpedoes in range in ten minutes,” he said. “I have the railgun. I will take anything left of Angel’s nose with projectiles. Sky, you have lasers, and everything to the right. Storm, please tell me those torpedoes don’t have forcefields.”
“No forcefields. Speed alone. The com-tac computer could take over fire control.”
“It would have to recognize, acquire, decide which ones, and what order, and then fire, deciding what weapons, and what rounds,” he replied. His voice steady, and his demeanor cool, and unconcerned. He had not been in a pitched battle in two decades. His body remembered how to remain calm under fire, even as his brain worked overtime. “It’s a weakness in our automated tactical response. All Sky, and I have to do is see and shoot. It’s simpler, and actually quicker.”
“Time,” Sky said quietly, firing her laser. A bloom appeared in the dark sky.
Leaving Angel to drift, Coop let loose one projectile at a time. The force behind each load enough to keep its course straight and true. The force-velocity created by a railgun meant the projectile hit with a release of incredible power. He acquired five targets, and the projectiles hit, and disintegrated one torpedo after another.
Sky used the heads-up display on her side of the cockpit to acquire targets too far out, and too fast to see otherwise. She hit the first torpedo, one with a nuclear tip, according to the resulting explosion. She had six more targets, and three were side by side by side. No sweat. Angel employed four laser cannons aligned on her wing facing forward, four facing backward, one on a swivel below, and another on a swivel on top.
She triggered three forward cannons at once, and left those targets. She used the fourth forward cannon, and both swivel cannons, her hands working the joy sticks to acquire and fire.
The first three torpedoes disintegrated, sliced fore to aft by lasers. It took more shots for the three spread out, but they met the same fate.
“Time?” Cooper called.
“Plus eighty.”
“Time to go on offense,” Coop said.
He called on the primary engine, turned his ship, circled up, and rose above the Zenge. He performed a dead stick drop, and fell into a dive which would bring them down on top of the upper ship.
“Away,” he said, targeting the box behind the command bridge and com tower.
The nymph hit, followed by Sky’s laser rounds, and the ship’s forcefield disappeared.
He flipped Angel on her side, crossed the nose of the top ship, and slipped beyond the nose of the second when they receive hits with laser fire.
The sonic-generated forcefield held, but the ship rolled, rocked by the concussive force from the laser pulses. Coop, Sky, and Storm were shaken badly inside the ship, but their harnesses held, and the ship continued down, and away.
“My bad,” Coop said. “I thought we were moving too fast for them to get a fix. They use targeting computers better than expected.”
“Three torpedoes on our tail,” Storm called.
Coop switched into space-fold, returned to natural space fifteen-seconds later, jumped immediately again, coming out behind, and beneath the two merged ships.
Storm gagged, yelped, unhitched her harness, and ran to the head. Sky followed, making it to the sink in the galley before throwing up. The unmistakable sounds coming from the head meant Storm emptied her stomach as well.
Coop reversed their direction, and backed Angel at nearly 80,000 miles-per-hour. They were 20,000 miles from the Zenge in fifteen minutes. The same amount of time needed for the two women to recover, and retake their seats.
“Fold sickness,” Coop said. “I’m stupid. I forgot about what can happen to a body not used to making frequent space-fold jumps.”
“I’m fine now,” Sky said. “Me, too,” Storm echoed.
“You won’t be fine if we make another jump. You’ll be throwing up blood, and dead if we use space-fold within two hours. I’m more accustomed to it, but even I feel queasy. It’s been a decade since I played with multiple jumps. Can’t believe I forgot what that can do.”
“If we can’t use space-fold, we lose a major advantage,” Sky said.
“We’re still faster. Angel can outrace, and outmaneuver anything they have. If your information is current about the Mischene’s battlecruisers, she’s still more than twice as fast as them. We have to do more infighting.”
“The other three Primaries are closing,” Storm informed them. “And speaking of the two Mischene battlecruisers, they broke away from the mothership and picked up speed. They intend to join that infighting sooner than later.”
“Sky, you well enough to shoot?”
“Ready,” she replied, heads-up display in front, and hands filled with joy sticks.
Cooper throttled forward. Rear mounted laser cannons on board the two Primary ships began firing when they flew within 30,000 miles. The fire pattern becoming more focused, and closing in, as space disappeared between them. He kept his eyes on the display for the lower Primary, aimed, and fired a nymph at the dynamo housed behind the com tower. “Away,” he called.
Sky had time to get off six laser bursts. Then they were beneath the ships, and gone.
Storm: “Four hits. Shields down. Torpedoes fired. Only six this time.”
Coop stopped the ship and quickly reversed. Sky targeted the torpedoes, and took them out just as quickly. Still flying backward, Coop slid beneath the ships, and dead-dropped Angel like falling tail-first into a well. The lower of the two ships filled the cockpit screen.
Starting from fore, and moving back toward the stern, Cooper sent eight railgun projectiles straight up. The rounds so powerful they entered through the ship’s bottom hull, barreled through the ship, entered the bottom of the upper ship, and continued through that one as well.
When the final projectile emerged, the two Zenge ships were shredded like paper. Debris fil
led the screen. Electrical sparks, fires, and explosions occurred without sound. The two merged ships died together.
Sky watched it with her mouth agape.
Storm called out: “Plus one-twenty-five.”
“Weapons?” Coop asked.
Storm checked her tactical display, and replied, “Unlimited kinetics for the railgun. Heat signature is low, so no problem. Projectiles. You only have a dozen left.
“Laser cannons are recycling, and because Sky has been rotating them, none are in danger of overheating. We’ve put one ship out of service, and destroyed two more while sustaining no damage, other than my pride. I can’t believe I threw up like that.”
“At least you were in the head,” Sky said. “I had to go in that damn little sink.”
“Speaking of, make sure to lock the lids on both of those. If we have to make a few more loops, it could get nasty in there.”
Realizing she was stuck in the bay if Angel started pitching about, Storm removed her harness, and hurried to make sure the sink,and toilet lids were closed and locked.
After she returned and strapped in at com-tac, Cooper inquired the status of the other ships.
“Half-hour, hour tops on the arrival of the remaining three Primaries. The battlecruisers can get here anytime they want. By the way, the first Primary ship is still headed toward open space. Either that’s the way they want to run, or they have no control.”
“We’ll drift here,” Cooper told them. “If they fire from distance, we’ll have time to power up, and either move, or get the sonic forcefield up. Maybe they’ll think we took damage in the fight, and cannot navigate.”
“Surprise wins more battles than numbers,” Sky mimicked him. “But not as surprised as the first three. They’ve been watching.”
Coop knew their odds of continuing their dominance over the Zenge were starting to run low. The enemy had time to put together a plan of action based on what already occurred. The two Mischene ships could hit them anytime. They were his biggest fear. There was no way to know when they would join the fray . . . most likely at a moment least favorable for Angel 7 and her crew.