The ship sprang into action and in short order we were pointed toward the gas giant and moving at best speed.
While the First Officer and our Tactical Section were busy in a voice conference with our Chief Gunner, Laurent came over to speak with me.
“I think you’re making the right decision, Admiral,” he prefaced what he was about to say before continuing, “however, as your Flag Captain, it’s my duty to point out that we’re on a tight timeframe. If we delay for too long here, we could miss the meeting, sir.”
“I understand,” I assured him, “we won’t be staying around for days helping rebuild anything or tow any of the SDF ships out of the combat zone. The locals will have to take care of that duty.”
“I appreciate that, Admiral,” he said, “I just hope we can drive them out of the system before we run out of time.”
“Me too,” I said and then, although it pained me, I splayed my hands, “worst case, we’ll run the droids around the star system for a while and give the SDF time to repair some battle damage. Hopefully between what we do the droids and whatever repairs they can make, it’ll be enough…worst case, of course. I’m still fairly confident we can destroy, or run off, enough of these buggers to make a difference.”
“I’m right there with you, Admiral,” said the Captain.
The next several hours passed in a blur of conferences, sensor readings, and rapid fire meetings as we moved on the gas giant.
There came a point at which Akantha wanted a piece of my time. “Are we at least going to get any boarding actions this battle?” she demanded abruptly, after storming onto the bridge and making a bee-line for my chair with a sour expression on her face.
“It doesn’t look likely,” I replied easily. “But I’ll make sure to tell the gunners that if they can knock out a Destroyer for you to board, they’ll get a reward.
Akantha swore, causing me look over at her with lifted brow. “Don’t look so pleased,” she told me sharply and then, when I proved too smart to throw myself in front of that grenade, she huffed loudly. “I suppose we can always hope they try to board us.”
“Something I’ll be doing my best to avoid,” I told her with a frown. Wishing our ship to be so badly damaged, or overwhelmed with superior forces, that we were boarded by enemy marine units wasn’t something I thought the rest of the crew would be as understanding of as I was. Of course, I paused long enough to contemplate, by now they knew our Tracto-ans as well as I did so maybe they’d just put it under the, ‘Tracto-ans are crazy dastards who always want a fight’ column. On the other hand, spacers could be a superstitious bunch and—
Akantha’s fingers started snapping in front of my face.
“Tract to Jason,” she said breaking me out of my short reverie, “don’t you know it is impolite to be praying while your Sword Bearer and Hold Mistress is present?”
“My apologies,” I said shamelessly, “you were saying?”
If looks could kill then I should have been in fear from my life after saying that, but I was un-phased. The worst she was going to do was drag me down to the gym for some so-called exercise—which, in reality, was just her excuse to have Duncan, my old sword instructor, knock me around the ring and humiliate me at swordplay. But since that was something she seemed to take great joy in doing anyway, I wasn’t seeing the downside.
“I don’t even know why I bother speaking with you sometimes,” she said in a tone of voice that most husbands in this universe have heard at one point or another.
Not wanting to step on that landmine, I kept my yap trap firmly snapped and pretended to look at the main screen for the latest update on the ongoing battle between the SDF and the Droids.
It looked like the SDF were using a series of sling shot maneuvers around various moons and larger asteroids to try and limit their engagement times with the droids. Unfortunately those Destroyers were fast, even for a very fast class of ships, and they were pounding the locals to scrap every chance they got.
“Since there seems little point in sitting around, waiting for a chance at battle that isn’t likely to come, I might as well wait up here with you,” Akantha finally sighed.
I tried to breathe and unexpectedly coughed as I did so, causing something to go down the wrong pipe. That was not what I’d been hoping to hear, but by the time I’d recovered enough to protest she had already taken a seat next to me.
“Dear,” I said carefully, “that’s Captain Laurent’s seat. He needs it to run the bridge.”
Akantha just gave me a cool look and then glanced over at the Captain who, seeing how the winds were blowing, had opted to beat a hasty retreat. “When he needs it then all he has to do is ask for it then,” she said firmly.
“Of course,” I said suppressing a sigh. I shot a look of my own toward the Captain but the coward studiously avoided my gaze.
About that time, someone in the system must have been paying attention to things other than the climactic battle that would decide the fate of every single person inside Mu-Heracles long enough to spot us, because we received a hail.
“This is Admiral Pritchard of the Mu-Heracles United Space Fleet,” growled an older man with lots of braid and ribbon along his shoulders, along with a series of Stars and Comets running up and down the arms of his dress uniform. “Who are you and what are you doing here?!”
I snickered; I couldn’t help it.
“A warm welcome, as always, eh?” I chuckled, turning to the chair beside me, only then remembering that it was my wife instead of my Flag Captain. For a moment I’d almost forgotten, but her disapproving gaze quickly snapped me back to reality. “We are trespassing upon sovereign soil,” she said, as if reminding me of something I should have known.
“Any advice?” I asked half sarcastically, half seriously. I wasn’t sure which half was in ascendance, even as I said it. But if she wanted to take potshots at my chosen expressions then she could blasted well give some constructive suggestions along with her disapproval couldn’t she!
“Be respectful,” she replied with a shrug.
For a half a second I wanted to call her out on it but it really wasn’t worth it. She was who she was and I was who I was; it was time to remember that, in her case, and be who I was in mine. “Damn the torpedoes and straight ahead, eh?” I muttered to myself.
Then, straightening in my chair, I looked around until I spotted Kong Pao sitting in a spare chair in the Comm. section. After the last debacle, where he couldn’t be found for love or money when I needed him because he was in another part of the ship, I’d made sure to have him assigned a place on the bridge.
“Any advice, Judge Kong?” I asked, motioning him over. Maybe he’d have something more helpful than my wife—who, apparently, didn’t like me laughing at officials before they got around to insulting me for not having gotten here sooner, or for any other problems they could foist off or accuse me of.
The Sector Judge and Representative for a large block of core worlds from Sector 23 and 24 unbelted from his chair and hurried over.
“I’m not particularly familiar with the inhabitants of Mu-Heracles or its leaders. However,” he said, speaking calmly but intently, “it’s always wise to put your best foot forward when forging new relations and, in their current state, I don’t see how coming their aid with an attack fleet could be seen as anything but beneficial.”
“You’d be surprised,” I remarked darkly, remembering the many times I’d put my best foot forward only to have some politician try to cut it off, before giving myself a shake, “besides, right now we only have the Phoenix and the Light Cruiser Admiral’s Pride, and I’ve found in my short career as a Confederation Admiral that a nation’s gratitude for your actions on their behalf is in direct proportion to factors entirely irrelevant to them during the actual conflict.” I carefully didn’t add that the largest of those factors was your combat strength relative to theirs, post-current conflict. I didn’t want to give the Sector Representative any ideas he didn’t already have.<
br />
“A somewhat cynical view,” Judge Kong said with disapproval, “still, these people clearly need help and this is exactly the sort of situation I myself came to you for help with.”
I gave a mental shrug; we’d wait until he’d seen the same world I did and then talk again. In the meantime there was no need to antagonize the man. Afterwards—well, if he stuck around long enough there was an afterwards….
I motioned to Steiner. “Prepare a channel to Admiral Pritchard,” I ordered.
The Warrant motioned with her hand. “You’re live, Admiral,” she said.
“This is Admiral Jason Montagne of the Confederation Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet, here to help clean up these Sectors. We saw the ongoing battle for control of your gas giant here and thought we’d stop by to see if you’d like a hand,” I drawled, in what I thought was a proper response to his initial communication. “But if you’re saying you’ve got the local situation well in hand, by all means just tell us to shove off and we’re gone. We were on our way to a pressing engagement in another system, as it happens.”
I then motioned for the little com-tech to cut the channel.
“You’re off, Admiral,” she replied after a moment and a few taps on her screen.
I glanced over at my wife and she shrugged.
Judge Kong, on the other hand, released a pent up breath, “A perfectly adequate reply,” he said diplomatically, “it is my sincere hope that this will help settle the issue and you can get back to the business of defeating this droid fleet.”
“From your mouth to the leaders of Mu-Heracles ears,” I nodded respectfully.
The Representative possessed a look of long suffering after I said this; he must have been hoping for a different, more self-flagellating response but sadly for him that was the best he was going to get. I’d been burned one too many times to take this gruff greeting at anything less than face value.
If the leaders here told me to take a hike then, at this stage of the game, I’d have to seriously consider it. After a certain point you just have to respect the desires of people the local citizens had put in charge of dealing with outsiders who possessed the firepower to save them from a Droid Attack Fleet. I might not like it, but I was too tired to play games and too bitter to keep pushing the boulder uphill all by my lonesome. If the locals elected, or appointed, people who didn’t want me around and there was no sign of some kind of hostile takeover then I was more than willing to get back on course for our meeting with the MDL. There, instead of saving people who didn’t want me to help them, I could instead get ready to take down the main droid menace. These small Squadrons and Attack Fleets were a symptom of the problem, not the root cause, and I was all for cutting out the roots.
Warrant Lisa Steiner signaled she was receiving another transmission and then piped it up on screen.
“Confederation?” the Admiral said with surprise that slowly morphed into a frown and then he grunted. “Well at least you’re not pirates, and even if you were I’d be a fool to turn you away if you’re here to fight Droids. Just don’t get any ideas about overstaying your welcome. So come along if you’re coming, and if you’re not then be off to the blazes with you anyway, Pritchard out.”
“A nice, warm welcome to the neighborhood, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Representative?” I grinned.
“Not quite how I’d characterize it,” the Judge said and then smiled wryly.
I smirked and then looked over at Akantha for any comments. “Implying we are road-bandits of the stars was not his wisest choice,” she said with a dark expression that said she’d be remembering this man for later.
I started to say something and then it occurred to me that she hadn’t been present during most of our encounters with the local leaders, mostly by design…my design but still. It was fortunate for the rulers here, and everywhere else we’d been, that my sweet wife hadn’t been the one taking their calls. If she had, we’d have been leaving a trail of corpses behind us from just about every system we’d passed through.
In retrospect, however, that might not have been such a bad thing. I sighed at the thought. If only my conscience would allow me to make her my public relations officer, I’d have a lot less stress. I could just imagine the scene now: she offers to help, they get suspicious and insult her, she threatens them with punishment for insulting her, and they in turn threaten to kill her. Then I find out someone we’d just come to save from certain destruction had said they were going to kill my wife, prompting me to point my fleet at their world in retaliation.
On second thought, why was that such a bad idea?
Fortunately for the suspicious locals, that was the extent of our communications with them. Until we encountered the Droids, at which time we had more important things to worry about than intransigent Leaders.
“We’re coming up behind a squadron of Destroyers, Captain,” reported the ship’s Tactical Officer.
“Prepare to come in with our port side facing them,” ordered Laurent.
“Aye aye, Captain,” replied Helmsman DuPont.
“Supercharge those shields, Longbottom,” instructed the Captain, “I don’t want anything getting through on this first volley, even if a whole squadron lines up to pound the same place with pinpoint accuracy.”
“Supercharging port shields, aye Captain,” the Shield Ensign said crisply, seemingly unfazed by the picture painted by his superior.
“Enemy vessels rounding the moon, sirs!” exclaimed a Sensor Operator.
“All damage control parties are to stand by for action,” ordered the cool, laconic voice at Damage Control that I had grown to rely on when it came to the clinch.
There was a moment of silence at this reminder that for all her power the Phoenix was just a Cruiser going up against a squadron of Destroyers, with only another smaller, lighter cruiser for back up. But the moment passed, and the normal din of battle noises on the bridge resumed with a lurch.
“Inform the Admiral’s Pride that they are to maintain position on the Flagship and prepare to pound these droids back into scrap,” I ordered looking at Steiner.
“Orders relayed to the Pride, sir,” she replied after relaying the message.
Beside me, Akantha opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it back shut before crossing her arms with an irritated expression on her face.
I cocked a brow at her. “Trouble?” I inquired.
“Now I remember why I dislike being on the bridge. It was bad enough when I was the ship’s commander, but sitting here doing nothing for minutes and hours on end, waiting for others to decide my fate,” she shook her head sourly, “is not for me.”
“Chin up,” I told her, “we’ll be in the middle of a battle in just a moment.”
“Maybe I was better down in the barracks staring at the walls with the rest of the warriors,” she grumped, but I noted she wasn’t stirring or showing any signs of getting up to move.
I murmured a wordless, supportive sound and then focused back on the action taking place outside the ship.
“Enemy Destroyers are in a modified diamond formation and are shifting from a horizontal facing to a vertical one, but they are maintaining the diamond; fighters in the middle, Destroyers on the outside,” reported the Sensor Officer.
“Prepare for engagement pass,” Laurent said grimly. “I want us firing as soon as possible and to maintain rate of fire until the enemy is beyond firing range.”
“Fire as soon as possible and maintain fire until enemy out of range, aye,” repeated the Tactical Officer.
Then there were no time for words as four Destroyers and twenty two fighters slammed into us with all the force of their medium lasers.
Turbo-lasers struck the enemy shields in the opening exchange with enough fury to send one of the Destroyers spinning.
“Shields dropping down to 72%, 68%, 62%,” Longbottom chanted an ever-lowering shield strength rating as the Droid Destroyers and fighters unloaded all at the same time.
The Phoenix’s
plasma cannons started cycling rapid fire, glowing balls of superheated plasma slamming into the enemy fighters hard enough to penetrate their shields and immolate half a dozen fighters.
Then, just as quickly as the vicious exchange had begun, we were past the enemy Squadron but still looping around the moon.
“Bring us about, Mr. DuPont,” I said, my eyes locked on those enemy warships’ tactical icons, “and set an intercept course. I want to finish those Destroyers.”
“On it, Admiral,” our Helmsman said and moments later the ship was turning away from the moon.
“Enemy warships coming at us from the rear!” cried a Sensor Operator right before new contacts appears on the screen.
“Blast,” cursed Laurent as what had to be the second Droid squadron populated our screen. At that point, we had enemy warships at squadron strength to either side of us.
“This is going to be rough,” my Flag Captain said grimly, “I don’t understand how they evaded our sensors and got over here in time for a coordinated pass.”
“Unlike those Conformity Droids, no one ever said this Harmony bunch was stupid,” I retorted.
“We’ll have to cut our pursuit of the First Squadron short unless we want to give the Second a shot up our kilts,” he replied without rancor.
I clenched my fists half temped to just let them try their shots and hope for the best. “Blast it,” I swore, “bring us back around and set a course for the Moon.”
Laurent blinked rapidly, “If we do that we won’t be able to get a follow-on shot with either Squadron before they have a chance to recharge their shields.”
“Wrong idea,” I said glumly, “it’s the Droids that would be the only ones planning a follow-up strike if we start chasing from one Squadron to the other. They’d get the time to recharge shields between attacks, and we don’t have enough units to play a war of maneuver with and they do. If we split up, we’ll lose the Light Cruiser for sure. They’re playing this thing too smart. Our best bet is to break contact and come back at them after we’ve also had a chance to recharge.”
Laurent looked unconvinced, which surprised me since normally I was the one learning about the way things really worked from him. But I was sure that whoever, or whatever, was running the Enemy Fleet was smart—maybe smarter than me—after the way I just played right into their hands.
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