“We can take it from here,” the Decanus said as they emerged into the shack. “Return to the resistance and safe journey.”
Paul shook their hands and disappeared back down the hatch, pulling it shut behind him. The Romani left the shack and went back into the jungle, coming out at the clearing. There was nothing to see, so the ship was still invisible. They knew it was there, when the hatch to the bridge opened and broke the invisibility shield. They boarded with minutes to spare before the fleet came out of the slipstream. Allen Farnsworth lifted the ship off the ground and blasted into space. As soon as they cleared the gravity well of the planet, he cut the engines and deployed the system sails, catching the star wind heading towards the inbound slipstream. They were past the planetary picket ships just as Roger Umgabe reported, “Ship signatures detected on the inbound slipstream. The fleet has arrived and is entering the system.”
At the inbound slipstream, there was a sudden influx of activity. The ten auxiliary cruisers and their destroyer escorts came through and began to form up with the lead cruiser under Captain Freemantle positioned in the center of the line as they made a wedge shape with the cruisers and an arch of destroyers ahead of them. This force of 30 ships began the 5-hour transit to the planet. Undetected and invisible, ten dreadnoughts came in behind them. They remained invisible and only intended to help if necessary. They were being held in reserve for the later battle when the Petrov forces retaliated.
When the Nova Romae fleet arrived, alarms began to sound among the Petrov invasion fleet. After the activity of the month before, the fleet was increased to three dreadnoughts, two cruisers and five destroyers as pickets. Petrov Corp knew there was an outside presence involved in the takedown of a munitions carrier the previous month but so far, all attempts at finding the perpetrators were fruitless. The troop presence on world was increased from fifteen thousand to eighteen thousand and still no results. Word had just come from the surface that a squad of troops was immolated while trying to capture the resistance leaders. All of this information was filtered through the bridge of the command ship before being sent on with a message capsule to the Petrov home world, deep inside Petrov space.
The command ship carried the flag officer, Admiral Igor Perminov, who was in charge of protecting the space around New Wales. So far, except for the excitement on the planet last month, it has been a very boring assignment. He now had his dreadnought, the PC Karamazov as well as two others, some cruisers and destroyers. Enough to handle anything the Balins can throw at him. From what he has seen so far, they are a cowardly group. As soon as his fleet arrived, the leaders made a run for it before the troops even landed. The defenders were left leaderless and they didn’t even try to defend their planet. So far, only the resistance has shown any backbone, but they are understaffed and underfunded and will soon be eliminated, despite their recent destruction of a squad. As he sat in his office, adjacent to the bridge, he looked over the paperwork from the unknown incursion the month before. They were certain the shooting down of the munitions transport was the work of the resistance. The paperwork that was puzzling concerns the incident that lead to the death of Colonel Grisha Novicov, one of the best secret police officers he ever worked with. The reports indicated the capture of two individuals who were identified as Alaya Sinclair and Christopher Slone. Both reported killed by the Sinclair Corp the year before. What was puzzling is how they escaped. Despite being under guard and in a room with only one exit, they overpowered the guards, an interrogation tech and Novicov. The guards and the tech were literally ripped apart and Novicov was killed slowly by puncturing both carotid arteries. Whoever did that watched him bleed out while holding him. That was unbelievably cruel and cold-blooded, even for Sinclair Corp. That also left open as to what exactly a corporation across human space from Petrov Corp had to do with the invasion of Balin space.
It was all very puzzling. The Balin Corp executives had made a run for the Border Worlds and he sent a cruiser after them. The cruiser had not yet returned, but that didn’t bother him, since he knew there was nothing in the Border Worlds that could take out a Petrov cruiser. Truthfully, the admiral was happy things were going so well. Petrov Corp was in trouble and Balin was the solution. Petrov scientists developed a virus that was meant to extend life. Instead, it made 60 percent of Petrov females infertile. Now, instead of living longer, they were fighting for their continued existence. Of the seven major corporations, Petrov was always the most marginal, since they were in a part of the galaxy where mining worlds were sparse. Their strength was in tight political controls and a strong military. The invasion of Balin space was meant to annex it and transport women and children into Petrov space to maintain the population. They had destroyed the virus as soon as it became clear what it was doing, but by that time, the damage was done and permanent. They finally filled the freighters with women and children and now they were ready to escort them out of Balin space for a new life as breeders to undo Petrov’s mistake. It seemed to take forever to fill those ships, but they had to make sure all the women were of proper age and able to conceive. The children were meant to fill the gap in some areas while the new babies grew up. They intended to keep the best mines going but depopulate the rest of Balin space and make them all Petrov citizens. No corporation could come to Balin’s aid without passing through Petrov space and they knew better than to try. As he was still lost in thought, the monitor on his desk suddenly came to life and a sensor tech appeared on the screen.
“Admiral, we are picking up ship telemetry at the inbound slipstream from the Matsua Rim.”
“Is it our cruiser returning with the Balin executives?”
“No sir, there are no recognition codes and the number of ships keeps increasing.”
“How old is the information?” Admiral Perminov was actually asking how long it took the telemetry to reach them from the slipstream.
“Slightly over an hour, sir. They have a five hour, 18 minute transit.”
“So they are an hour into that transit from our first pickup. Any identification yet?”
“Sir, they are not transmitting any transponder signals, they’re not ours.”
“Start a threat board. I’m on my way.” The admiral left his office and went straight to the bridge, where he saw a flurry of activity. He looked at the sensor tech and said, “Report.”
“We count ten cruisers and twenty destroyers in a configuration unfamiliar to the computer.”
“Thirty ships and no dreadnoughts. They must be from the Border Worlds, though I didn’t think they had that many ships. Any Balin ships with them?”
“No sir, only the unknown vessels. What are your orders, sir?”
“Any response to standard hails?”
“No, sir. They are maintaining radio silence.”
“Put the entire fleet on alert and call back the picket destroyers. We have three dreadnoughts, two cruisers and five destroyers. Only 10 ships to their thirty but our dreadnoughts should make up the difference. Order the fleet to formation Zed 24.”
“Yes sir.”
“Let me know when they are one hour out.”
“Yes sir.”
The Petrov destroyers did an emergency burn with their engines and rapidly retreated to the capital ships. The dreadnoughts and cruisers broke orbit to allow for maneuvering and the fleet began to form up. The configuration chosen put the cruisers in front, the dreadnoughts next and then the destroyers in the rear. Admiral Perminov returned to his cabin. It would be his job to order fleet operations during combat, but the ship captain will be the one doing the fighting. He sat at his desk and put a call through to the ground commander, General Gennady Fedin. After a few seconds, the screen filled with the image of a man in his 60’s who had a weather-beaten face with deep ridges from long years of sun exposure. When the general saw who was calling, he smiled and said, “Igor, to what do I owe this honor?”
“Gennady,” the admiral replied, good-naturedly, “just wanted to say hello and see what
things look like down there.”
“And here I thought you were calling about the fleet that suddenly came through the slipstream.”
“You’ve see them then, my friend.”
“Yes, sometimes we ground folks do look in the sky. Any idea who they are?”
“No, they have no recognition signs and they are not responding to our hails. I assume they are here to fight, unless they prove otherwise.”
“Are they manageable?”
“We think so, no dreadnoughts. But just in case this is a ruse to get us clear of the planet, be ready for a ground invasion.”
“We will be ready. Good hunting, my friend. May the wind be on your side. Fedin out.” The general closed the channel and turned to his adjutant. “Order all commanders to pull their troops into the city and prepare for ground combat.”
“Yes sir, any orders for the forces occupying other cities?”
“Just order them to be vigilant and ready to deploy with us if called on.”
“Yes sir,” the adjutant said and moved off to convey the general’s orders.
General Fedin got up from his desk, went over to the window and looked at the sky. If only he could see what was happening up there. If his side lost and an invasion was coming, he would be on his own. Without the fleet overhead, any chance of help was well over a week, maybe two, away. Balin Corp was chosen as a target because they were weak and there was some indication they had used biological weapons against Petrov border colonies. Now there was a fleet of thirty ships, certainly a larger fleet than Balin could have put together. At least there were no dreadnoughts. Even so, three dreadnoughts against ten cruisers was not a good match. Where did Balin find these ships and did they have anything to do with the mystery of the Sinclair agents they caught last month. His officers were still talking about the way their best interrogators and guards were torn to shreds, as if by some wild animal. Who are these people? He had a feeling he would soon find out.
On the deck of the Longinus there was a whirlwind of activity. Slone was standing on the elevated captain’s deck with runners by his side and Captain Lorenzo at the helm. Under the Nova Romae system, there were no admirals. If a Consul was not present, then the captain of the Dreadnought carrying the first cohort controlled the ships of the legion. In this case, Juan Lorenzo was Consul, Admiral and Captain. Slone wondered if his self-confidence could get any bigger. They were all concentrating on the threat board now. The Petrov fleet was between them and the planet, just over an hour to contact by the visible fleet. The dreadnoughts were remaining invisible and were lagging back a bit more so as not to be hit by stray shots or be accidentally involved in a collision. They may be invisible but they still have mass. Lorenzo turned to Slone, “Well my friend, we are about to witness the first large scale fleet action in over a century. Time to see if Captain Freemantle is worth the trust we put in him.”
Slone wondered that as well, since they were going against three dreadnoughts and two cruisers with only 10 cruisers. Yes there were 20 destroyers, but they could only distract the cruisers and had to deal with the other destroyers first. The destroyers were lightweights when it came to the capital ships, but in a group, they could be very effective. Slone was about to find out if the book theories worked in actual combat.
An hour before contact, things started to change on the threat board. Aboard the Primo Cohortem cruiser, Captain Freemantle began to rapidly issue orders. “Order the fleet into double chevron formation. Aim the peak at the center dreadnought.” As soon as the orders were issued, the outer curve of destroyers on the threat board began to form an outer “V” around the inner “V” formed by the cruisers. The point of this double chevron was aimed at the center dreadnought, which was in a row with the other dreadnoughts, and the cruisers were in front of them. If the formations hold, then the Romani fleet should pass between the cruisers and head straight for the center dreadnought, which was the PC Karamazov and carried the head of the snake. A half hour before contact, Freemantle ordered the chevron layered, which meant the cruisers moved up several kilometers to allow them to fire over the destroyers. This was done in such a smooth motion that Slone, who could only hear the orders did not even realize it happened.
Aboard the PC Karamazov the formation maneuvers of the Romani fleet were viewed with interest and confusion. There was nothing in the shared corporate combat manual that covered formations like this. According to the manual most of the corporations followed, fleets met with their ships in line either across or single file in passing. Nothing like this double “V” even existed and its intention was unknown. All Admiral Perminov could think was, ‘who are these people?’ He was about to find out. His communications tech suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
“Admiral, there is an incoming message from the enemy fleet.”
“Let’s hear what they have to say, what is the lag time now.”
“Lag time is only a few minutes sir. Message incoming, now.”
The speakers on the bridge came to life with the voice of Captain Freemantle. “This is Captain Freemantle of the Nova Romae cruiser Primo Cohortem, greetings. We are here to liberate New Wales from your illegal invasion. The Balin Corporation is a protectorate of ours and we will defend it to the death. In 30 minutes, we will make contact and combat will begin. You have until then to break contact and leave the system. We will allow you to evacuate your ground troops with payment of restitution for the death and destruction you have already brought to this world. You have until combat begins, use the time wisely.”
“They have cut transmission,” the communication tech said.
Everyone on the bridge looked at each other. “Maintain formation,” the admiral said and signaled the captain to follow him into his adjacent office.
The admiral waved the captain over to a seat and sat down in a chair next to him. He opened a cabinet between the chairs, pulled out a bottle of vodka and two glasses, which he filled a quarter ways with the clear liquid, and handed it to the captain. He held his glass up in a salute, which the captain returned, and they downed the liquid in one gulp.
“Well, Peter, what do you make of this mess?”
“Admiral, have you ever heard of the Nova Romae? Do they mean the pirates from the Matsua Rim? That is no pirate fleet out there, and I have never seen battle formations like that.”
“I agree, but we can’t back down without a fight. Signal one of the destroyers to lag back in case we need to send it to report to our main fleet.”
“Do you think they are that powerful? We have three dreadnoughts.”
“That doesn’t seem to bother them so I will assume they have ways to deal with us. Let’s hope it’s not necessary, but I want a way to warn our battle fleet.”
“Aye sir. I assume the answer to them will be we fight?”
“Yes it is.”
Perminov poured them another drink, which they downed with a toast to their corporate leader, Alexei Petrov. Perminov put the vodka bottle away and they returned to the bridge. He ordered the communication tech to open a channel to the enemy. “This is Admiral Igor Perminov of the Petrov fleet. We refuse your offer to vacate and are ready to defend our right of conquest to the death.” Before there could be an answer, he ordered the channel closed. “Put me on fleet wide communications.”
The tech complied and the admiral began his address to the fleet. “This is Admiral Perminov. We are about to engage an enemy of unknown type. They call themselves Nova Romae and we all know that is the name of mere pirates. They have identified themselves as pirates and that is what they are. You are professionals of the mother corporation and pirates are no match for you, so Petrov Corporation expects the best from you. Do your duty and you will live to see tomorrow. Show no mercy.”
The navigator reported 10 minutes to contact. The admiral looked at Captain Abramov, “Peter, I think it is your choice as to music.”
Captain Abramov nodded his head and said, “Communications, ship wide 1812 overture to start one
minute before contact.”
“Aye, captain.”
Waiting was always the worst part of combat. One minute before contact and suddenly Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture began to blare out of the ship wide speakers and Russian blood began to rise and boil for battle. Petrov Corporation was a proud corporation founded on old earth principles of nationality as the ultimate expression of human society. Patriotic fervor was about to be put to the test.
One minute to contact and all eyes on the planet were glued to the heavens, though there was actually nothing to see. On board the Romani fleet, things were calm. This is what they constantly trained for and they were confident in their abilities. Yet this is the first fleet battle for them as well. Now they would see if they were ready to take on the corporations. Captain Freemantle looked over at his communications tech and said, “Put me on fleet wide communication.” The tech did so. “This is Captain Freemantle. We are about to engage the Petrov fleet. The Senate and People of Nova Romae expect us all to do our duty. All ships to battle stations.” Throughout the fleet, the klaxons began to blare and all systems began to report ready for action. Captain Freemantle then said fleet wide, “Raise battle sails and begin the cadence.”
Chapter 9 – Phase 2: The Battle for New Wales
Aboard the Longinus, Slone could hear and see everything happening. The threat board was replaced with a visual of the fleets about to engage, magnified to allow all to see the event. The Romani dreadnoughts were at full stop, out of range of the combat, yet close enough to help if things went south. When Captain Freemantle called for the battle sails, throughout the Romani auxiliary fleet, masts came up along the tops of the vessels and the sails that would allow them to pivot rapidly in battle came out. At the same time there began a measured, deep drumbeat that Slone could feel in the depth of his chest. When this started, he looked quizzically at Captain Lorenzo.
Nova Romae (The Adventures of Christopher Slone Book 2) Page 15