Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  I had to get my head out of my keester and start playing this like I was going to win it. I idly wondered if it was an anti-machine bias that was slowing the Captain down, or if it was something else—something like my own peculiar blindness regarding the situation coming into play.

  Then I shrugged it off; I was in command and the heat of battle was not the time to doubt myself.

  “They might link up both squadrons,” Laurent warned, causing me to frown at him.

  “Yes, but if they do and we make it through the combined pass then we can chase down any stragglers and start knocking them off,” I said flatly before commanding, “relay the order and get us out of here.”

  “Aye aye, Admiral,” the Captain grumbled, but despite my words, DuPont—ever in tune with my orders—had decided not to wait for the chain of command to relay the word, and already had the Phoenix and her sister ship bolting for the moon. This caused the Second Harmony Squadron to alter their course and give chase.

  Because of our earlier boneheaded pursuit of the First Squadron, they would catch us without too much trouble. But I took some solace in the fact that at least they would have to work for it.

  “Enemy entering firing range in ten seconds,” reported Tactical.

  I noted that in addition to changing course on my command the Helmsman had already started our turn. By the time the Droids were in range, our starboard side would be facing them.

  This time the enemy weren’t rapidly rounding the moon and our turbo-lasers were able to start taking pot shots well before they got the chance to respond.

  Then the Second Harmony Squadron was on us and turbo-lasers hummed while plasma cannons pulsed, filling the void between us with lines of fury and roaring balls of burning plasma.

  “Shields down to 60%, down to 55%, 45%!” Longbottom said in a rising voice as the fighters suddenly added their weight of fire, knocking our shields down into the 40th percentile and causing minor spotting.

  The ship shuddered.

  “Hit! Damage to the starboard secondary engine housing and we’ve lost three plasma cannons to a raking shot,” reported Damage Control.

  “I’m still getting better than 80% thrust from the starboard secondary,” reported DuPont, “it only took out a few heat exchange lines and a secondary power run—nothing that can’t wait until after the battle.”

  “Continue for the moon at best speed,” I instructed.

  As we pulled away the distance lengthening between us and the droids and DuPont continued for the moon, a single turbo-laser lanced out and struck one of the Droid warships right in the stern.

  A massive explosion rocked the enemy destroyer as its main engine tore itself apart, and a second later a drive core ejected into cold space before exploding.

  A cheer went up on the bridge.

  “Scratch four fighters and one enemy Destroyer,” the ship’s Tactical Officer crowed.

  First Officer Eastwood looked up from the spot he must have surreptitiously taken during the battle, because I hadn’t noticed him or his per usual incessant microphone destruction, and said, “One Destroyer down, compliments of the gun deck and the Chief Gunner.”

  The bridge gave a second cheer and then we were finally, absolutely out of range.

  I observed clinically that both Squadrons had now changed course and had turned in our direction. We all knew they’d be back on us soon enough.

  “Relay my compliments to the gun deck; damaging a few destroyers on that first pass was great but nothing compared to finishing off that Destroyer with one shot,” I said cheerfully.

  “Will do, sir,” Eastwood replied.

  Tension-filled minutes pass as we circled around the moon building up speed and allowing our shields to rebuild.

  “Be ready for anything, Tactical,” Laurent said, “we’ve passed the point where they could catch us coming around the other side, even if they were burning full out, but I don’t want to get caught with our pants down around our ankles.”

  Several more minutes passed and still no sign of the Droids.

  “Where are they?” I muttered.

  Akantha sniffed loudly, reminding me who and where I was with her follow up look.

  I suppressed a frown, but despite that still found myself stiffening my spine and clearing my face of expression. Some habits just won’t die easy, I supposed. Not that I’d been trying to kill them—far from it—but still.

  “Here they come,” reported the Sensor Officer, “and it looks like they’ve merged formations.

  “Seven Destroyers and around forty fighters against a pair of cruisers,” I shook my head, knowing that this wasn’t going to be fun. “This time let’s make sure we don’t linger any longer than necessary; max power to the engines, and all that.”

  “Already on it, Admiral,” Laurent said in a tone that advised me to settle down and take a breath.

  For a moment I felt a flash of fire deep down in my belly, but I forced it back down and nodded instead. I knew the importance of not jogging elbows, especially when they belonged to the people actually fighting the ship I was ‘merely’ giving direction to.

  “Enemy warships are entering engagement range,” the Warrant Officer said in a high tight voice.

  “Give it to them with all barrels,” Laurent said, unnecessarily as far as I was concerned.

  I mean, what had we been doing with our two previous attack runs? But I realized I was simply allowing the tension of the moment get to me, as well as the fact that it was the Captain out there inspiring the crew to greater efforts. I wasn’t the lone ranger on the Command deck any longer—if in fact I ever was—and everything wasn’t going to fall apart if I wasn’t there every step of the way.

  “Here we go,” Tactical said excitedly.

  “Fire!” shouted Eastwood, clearly forgetting he was supposed to be keeping his head down.

  “Shields at 88%, 82%, 78%,” reported Longbottom and, for half a second, I was pleased at how well we were doing and then my stomach lurched. There was only one explanation for our good fortune.

  “They’re going for the Admiral’s Pride,” I shouted, jumping out of my chair moments before the Screen reflected what I already knew had come to pass, “slow our speed and get us between the Light Cruiser and those Destroyers!”

  “Adjusting speed and heading now,” DuPont said tensely.

  “Pride reports heavy damage to their starboard side,” Steiner said even as the Phoenix smoothly slid into position between our other cruiser and the Droids.

  The only question was whether it had been too little, too late. Looking at all the atmosphere venting out of the side of the Admiral’s Pride, I starting to get worried—very worried.

  “They’ve lost power and life support on several decks, as well as a third of their starboard weaponry, but they still have power to their engines,” Steiner appended her report, the information filling me with a sense of relief.

  Enemy damage was both more, and less, severe. A pair of Destroyers had been damaged to the point where one had lost its port shield generators and the other was a drifting derelict, riddled with shots from stem to stern, mostly likely the result of turbo-laser fire. In addition, the droids had also lost another half dozen fighters.

  “Prepare to bring us back around,” I said, eyeing that crippled destroyer hungrily, “I want that droid Destroyer with the engine damage finished off before it can get back into action.”

  “We can try,” my Flag Captain said, “but remember that however fast we are for a cruiser, those destroyers are even faster. It’s likely they can get back to their damaged cohort before we can.”

  “Can they also tow it?” I asked rhetorically.

  Laurent frowned. “No,” he actually sounded a little uncertain about that answer, “but what they can do is rake our escort cruiser again—maybe even knock her down and put her out of action entirely. The Admiral’s Pride wasn’t exactly the best conditioned ship, even after the rush job they did at the Gambit Yards to get her b
ack into service. Now that’s she’s battle damaged, it’s anyone’s guess how much more she can take.”

  My jaw clenched. It wasn’t fun hearing holes poked into my plans, but it was necessary. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  I took a slow, calming breath. “We’ll just have to keep her close to us and work to cut down the amount of damage she can take by putting the Phoenix between her and them,” I said shortly.

  Laurent opened his mouth and then paused. “So long as you know the risks,” he replied.

  Tension-filled minutes passed as we flipped end for end and did our best to burn for the damaged Destroyer.

  “Enemy Destroyers entering a modified coin formation and coming about for another pass,” reported Tactical.

  “Instruct the Admiral’s Pride to stay close to our side, and we’ll try to keep her from taking more than her share of the enemy lasers,” I told the com-tech.

  “On it, Admiral,” replied Steiner leaning over her console and holding a hand to her ear bud.

  With that taken care of, all that was left to do was sit back and let the bridge crew fight the ship. That would not likely be as easy as it sounded, but that’s why they paid me the big bucks—except, of course, no one was paying me anything…yet.

  I let loose a piratical smile at that particular thought. Although there had been a few, by which I mean to say exactly one very big and very ‘voluntary’ contribution from back in Aqua Nova—to be directly offset against the taxes they owed the Confederation, of course. Maybe I should consider taking my pay out of that? I wondered.

  I gave myself a shake; I needed to put such thoughts out of my mind. At that moment, everything I needed was provided for me by the quartermaster of whichever ship I was aboard at the time. That was more than good enough for now.

  As I watched, the Destroyers loomed closer and closer before suddenly breaking off and veering away.

  “Track those ships and find out where they’re going,” I snapped, suspecting a trick.

  “Will do, Admiral,” replied the Sensor Officer.

  “Contacts! I have multiple contacts on bearing one-one-two,” shouted an Operator.

  My head whipped around.

  “I make it two corvettes, an armed merchant conversion, and a light cruiser,” the Operator continued, oblivious to the heart attack he had nearly caused.

  “I’m getting local friend or foe transmissions on the Provincial Guard channels,” said the little Warrant Officer at the Comm., “I think it’s the SDF!”

  “Should we give chase, Admiral?” Laurent asked urgently, and I realized that while the Droids had turned we hadn’t.

  Making a snap decision, I shook my head. “I want to put paid to that crippled destroyer. There’ll be plenty of time after that to link up with the locals and defeat the main droid force, or drive them out of the system,” I said, my eyes flitting back and forth from the immobile destroyer and the remainder of two squadrons of droid ships which were moving away at top speed.

  As I watched, I saw that both of our cruisers and the SDF ships were on course for the crippled enemy destroyer.

  “Sir! I’m receiving a transmission from the locals,” Lisa Steiner sounded incredulous.

  “Yes?” I asked shortly.

  She held up a finger, listening. “They’re warning us off, Admiral. They say to keep our distance; they’ve got the Destroyer,” she replied, sounding thoroughly put out.

  My mouth hardened. “You can inform whoever’s in charge over there with the locals that we’re going to finish the deed. We’re the ones who knocked her down and now we’re going to be the ones who finish her,” I declared angrily. “What’s more, you can tell them that as a Confederation Vice Admiral—and thus Preeminent Military Commander in the region—I will be assuming command of all Fleet Operations in this Star System unless they tell us they’ve got everything under control, in which case I have an important engagement with the MDL!”

  With angry satisfaction, the little Caprian com-tech—well, technically, former com-tech following her recent changes in duty—reopened the channel and relayed the message.

  While she was talking, Akantha leaned in close to me, “What do you think about sending over a boarding party?” she asked with a gleam in her eye.

  I opened my mouth to answer when a shout from Tactical interrupted me.

  “The SDF corvettes are accelerating,” reported the Tactical Officer, “they’re going for the Destroyer.”

  “Warn them off, blast it,” I shouted, jumping out of my chair.

  “They’re ignoring me, sir,” Lisa Steiner said pounding several buttons on her console repeatedly.

  “Open a direct channel to whoever’s in charge over there,” I snapped furiously.

  “Open, sir,” replied Steiner.

  “This is Admiral Montagne and I’m taking command of the Defense of Mu-Heracles,” I declared to the blank screen in front of me, “back off from that Destroyer.”

  There was no reply until after the Corvettes closed into range and pummeled the Destroyer, while I sat watching helplessly, until it exploded.

  A few seconds after the destroyer exploded, I got a reply. The person that appeared on my screen was older with gray side burns and a lot less braid on his uniform than the Admiral I’d spoken with earlier.

  “I don’t know who you are, that you think you can just come in here and start throwing your weight around,” the man said condescendingly, as if he were speaking to a little child, “but, son, this is our Star System and no one comes here and starts telling us what to do. But in the interests of stopping these invaders, I, Commodore Potempkin of the Mu-Heracles United Defense Fleet, would like to thank you for all your help so far and am prepared to assume overall command of our joint task force.

  “Unacceptable,” I snapped.

  “Listen, boy, the ships of this system aren’t going to be placed under your command anytime soon. We like to at least know our Fleet Commanders are out of diapers and, frankly, you’re an officer we’ve never heard of before.”

  Molten fury ignited in my belly and this time I wasn’t ready to cut myself short. Once again I’d come in to save the day and once again I was getting the run around.

  “Commodore Potempkin, I had plans for that Destroyer that went well beyond you and the concerns of your little rinky-dink Squadron and minor provincial Star System,” I said coldly.

  “You’ll just have to get over it, son,” the Commodore sneered.

  “From your response, it’s clear you knew what I had ordered you to do and deliberately ignored my orders,” I said, glaring at the other man. “So, as things stand, I have to warn you that I’ve half a mind to declare you mutineers for disobeying orders in the middle of a warzone.”

  “You might have a few cruisers, Mr. Montagne,” the Commodore scoffed, “but now that we’ve had a few moments to make repairs and start consolidating our fleet, I think we can take it from here. So why don’t you take yourself and that abortion of a ship you call a Flagship and be off to your pressing engagement?”

  I almost ordered the Phoenix to attack the Light Cruiser where the Commodore had affixed his flag. I nearly did it. The only thing that stopped me from ordering the attack that very second was the knowledge that, in doing so, I could be signing the death warrants of the inhabitants of Mu-Heracles.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned to Captain Laurent.

  “Set a course for the hyper-limit and take us out of here, Captain,” I said coldly. “I want our hyper drive charged and ready to go the minute we hit the edge of this system.”

  “But sir—” Laurent protested, looking upset.

  “We’ve been invited to leave, Captain,” I said shortly, “and I can’t in good conscience destroy a human warship while there are droids still in system, nor do I have time to stick around and ensure the reestablishment of proper authority.”

  “You’re the Admiral,” he said stiffly.

  “So because you can’t be king of the hill
, you’re just going to cut and run like a coward, leaving the rest of the Droids to us?” the Commodore broke back into the conversation, reminding us that the channel was still open as he shook his head in open condescension.

  “I’m not here to be your Star System’s round bottom boy, Commodore, riding to the rescue without a thought for ourselves and then being insulted for the labors of my Fleet. You’ve shown me the door and assured me you can take things from here, so I’m leaving—I know better than to stay where I’m not wanted,” I said flatly.

  “Hah!” growled the Commodore, sounding irritated and starting to look concerned right before he cut the channel.

  “We can still stay and help run down the droids. We don’t have to put ourselves under the command of that man,” Laurent offered.

  “Maybe if someone in higher authority requests it,” I said evenly, “but barring that we have a whole Sector to save. We can’t afford to get bogged down in a single system action—especially in one where we’re not wanted.”

  “Admiral,” Kong Pao said, hurrying over, “surely you don’t intend to just up and leave while this system is under threat?”

  “That is exactly what I intend, Representative,” I assured him.

  The Judge looked taken aback, “Think of the innocent civilians of Mu-Heracles, sir. Surely they shouldn’t suffer because of one man’s pride.”

  My head snapped around, fixing upon the Judge like a laser beam.

  “I agree,” I said looking at him flatly, pretty sure that the prideful person I was thinking of was different than his, “but I have no control over the Commodore or his actions; he’s made that clear. However, that does bring me to a second point.”

  Kong Pao blinked. “To what do you refer?” he asked.

  “So far I’ve been involved in two, separate, system-level actions and each time I’ve been treated like a pirate or hostile intruder. You came to me claiming to represent a Mutual Defense League but every-single-time I show up my name is less than dirt, and the fact I’m here at the behest of your League means zilch.”