“Are we in position and ready for battle, Lieutenant?” Druid asked, knowing that their turn in the battle was close at hand.
“We’re armed, ready, and in position. Just give the order, Commodore,” the Lieutenant said, giving him a feral look.
Sitting in the largest warship in the Fleet and doing absolutely nothing for the majority of the battle for Elysium hadn’t sat well with the men—blazes, it hadn’t sat well with the Commodore either, Druid thought sagely.
“The order is given, Lieutenant. Bring us around the moon and full speed ahead; it’s time we showed those Droids the folly of picking a fight with humanity,” he instructed with more bellicosity than he had intended.
“We’ve got a general idea of where the Droid ships are positioned, but our last image of the area covered by the jammer is hazy and incomplete,” pointed out the Lieutenant at Tactical. “We’ve no way of knowing how things have shifted.”
“We’re not waiting any longer, the time is now,” Commodore Druid said firmly. “However, before we finish rounding the moon, feel free to ping the jammer network. One of the Cutters can relay an update without giving away the element of surprise.”
“Will you be wanting the Cutters to follow us into the jammer field, or should they hang back until called for?” asked Tactical.
“Have them follow in our wake,” Druid said decisively.
The jamming field flickered and the plot updated itself. Moments later, they were swinging around the moon and thrusting toward the jammer field.
“Entering the jammer Field,” said the Lieutenant at Sensors.
“Project their course from last known speed and position—take us right to enemy, Helmsman,” Druid ordered as his heartbeat quickened in anticipation.
“Already on it, Commodore,” the Helmsman said, focusing on his work intently.
Druid leaned forward as they shot into the jammer field like the blast from a flash shotgun. Enough with the standing around and waiting to strike, he thought to himself grimly, it’s time to rain some pain on these jumped-up washing machines.
“I feel I should point out that the Phoenix looked damaged and hard-pressed during our last scan, and that we are about to enter a fight involving four Battleships and a pair of Heavy Cruisers,” said his First Officer officiously.
“Understood, Lieutenant Commander,” Druid acknowledged with a sharp nod.
“Contact! I’ve got a lone contact on sensors moving too fast to be a ship of the wall. It’s got to be one of those Droid Destroyers, Commodore,” reported Sensors.
“Bring us around to present our broadside, Helm,” Druid instructed.
The ship started turning before the Helmsman had even started to acknowledge the order.
“Inform Gunnery that they are to fire as she bears. I want that Destroyer dead,” Druid said flatly.
“The Harmony Destroyer is turning to run!” reported the Lieutenant at Tactical.
“Second contact,” cried the Sensor Officer, “looks like another Destroyer, sir but she’s just entering range of our sensors now and is already beginning to turn!”
“Update the gun deck,” Druid said with a wolfish grin, “and tell them I want both of those Destroyers.”
“If it can be done, we’ll bag her for you, sir,” replied Tactical, clearly sharing in the savage anticipation that only trained warriors can understand.
Turbo-lasers and heavy lasers thundered out from the Power, briefly filling the space between the Battleship and the Destroyers.
Shields flared, and the further of the two Destroyers went spinning while the closer one continued to streak across his ship’s firing arc in a desperate attempt to escape.
“Second contact just took a hit through her shields and entered an uncontrolled tumble,” crowed the Tactical Lieutenant.
More turbo-lasers struck the vessel’s collapsing shields as the Parliamentary Power’s savage fury raked the woefully outmatched Destroyer. Just before the Power had cleared her guns entirely, the second Harmony Destroyer exploded.
“First contact is entering a rapid roll and executing a high-speed evasive pattern; they’re spreading the damage across the ship and evading our targeting solutions. The second contact has been destroyed, Commodore,” reported Tactical with satisfaction.
Less than a minute later, once his guns had recharged, a hail storm of strikes from the Power’s gun deck sent a pair of turbo-laser beams punching through the enemy ship. The beams arced out the other side of the mechanical, would-be oppressors in a brilliant display of humanity’s vengeful wrath.
“Droid Destroyer just ejected her fusion core; minimal power generation remaining,” reported Sensors.
Druid nodded with satisfaction, “Get us back on course for the Phoenix, Helmsman,” then he looked over pointedly at the Lieutenant in the Tactical pit, “let’s make sure and finish off the Destroyer as we pass.”
“My pleasure, sir,” replied the Lieutenant and within moments the first Destroyer was riddled through with holes and joined her comrade in death.
Pushing forward as fast as a Battleship’s comparatively sluggish drive system would allow, the Parliamentary Power plowed toward the last known position of the Admiral and his enemies.
The fact the Admiral was mostly sitting there and slugging it out at close range with a number of ships outside his weight class, while boding poorly for the Flagship, made an intercept course much more achievable.
A bright line briefly stabbed almost straight across the main screen. “What was that?” barked the Lieutenant at Sensors.
“That was a random laser strike; I think it’s safe to say, we’ve found the battle, sir,” replied the Tactical Officer.
“Port shields down half a percent,” reported the Shields, “we’ll be recharged to full strength shortly.”
“Sensors registering hazy contact at extreme range; estimated contact is Heavy Cruiser size or larger,” reported the Lieutenant at Sensors.
“Close the distance and as soon as you see another contact, move smartly to place us between them,” Druid ordered.
“On it, Commodore,” replied the helmsman.
Swooping down on the enemy warships, the crew of the Parliamentary Power soon saw the battered shape of the Furious Phoenix—which was taking a pounding from the larger ships maneuvering around her like a pack of hungry wolves.
“Let’s take off some of the pressure on our comrades, shall we?” Druid asked rhetorically.
Moving forward as fast as they could, very few weapons could be brought to bear until they reached close range. Fortunately, the jammer field helped in that regard, but even with the jammers to cover their approach, a Heavy Cruiser spotted them and immediately turned to present its own weaponry to the Confederation Battleship.
“Port shields now at 97%,” came the report an instant before the shields were hit again, “94% power to the port shields,” amended the Lieutenant at Shields.
Druid pulled up the specs on the nearest Battleship to the Parliamentary Power and bared his teeth. The enemy ship focused more on shields than hull strength, which gave it the edge in speed. However, it was hard to overmatch a Dreadnaught class when it came to Battleship shields.
“Keep our port side presented to the enemy at all times, Helm,” he instructed.
The helmsman acknowledged the order.
Then, to the general consternation of the bridge crew, the Commodore revealed the extent of his new battle plan.
Chapter 38: Excitement on the Bridge
“We’re being pounded, sir,” Laurent reported as power to the bridge continued to flicker before once again stabilizing, “it’s amazing we haven’t lost anything major—except for engines—yet.”
“The duralloy II hull has stood up better than I ever dreamed,” I agreed.
“Sir, I’d say we must withdraw…except that option is no longer available to us,” the Flag Captain said mournfully.
I gave him a sideways look as heavy lasers pummeled, and turbo-l
asers gouged, deep tears in our hull as the Furious Phoenix defiantly returned fire to the best of her abilities. However, the ultimate outcome of the engagement had never been in doubt; one Strike Cruiser could not stand against four Battleships and a pair of Heavy Cruisers. It wasn’t a question of ‘if,’ it was only a matter of ‘when’ our outmatched ship would be destroyed.
“Secondary port shield reported destroyed,” reported the Shields Ensign.
“Carry on, Longbottom,” I said.
“There’s nothing to do; they keep knocking down our shields as soon as they start to rise and now they’ve begun targeting the generators,” said the Ensign.
“Just do your best, son,” growled Laurent.
“Gunnery reports enemy warships have moved to counter-battery fire,” reported First Officer Eastwood, his brows lowered.
“Enemy Battleships are moving away,” Sensors reported in a rising voice.
“Check your sensors; we’ve got Heavy Cruisers closing in,” declared Tactical.
As I watched, the Heavy Cruiser that had been pounding our stern moved around to our starboard side, all the while counter-firing our own batteries, while the second Heavy Cruiser closed in moving on our port side.
I jolted in my chair. “Maneuvering thrusters—turn the ship!” I lunged out of my chair.
“Aye—” started DuPont.
“Heavy Cruisers are firing bucking cables,” cried Tactical.
“Tell gunnery to destroy those cables,” I yelled, running for the Captain’s ready room—a room that I had confiscated for my own. There was only one reason to come in close and try to grapple us, and I had already deduced it before being told of the bucking cables.
“Sir?” the Tactical Officer said, looking at me with alarm.
“Contact the Armory and tell them to prepare to repel boarders,” I ordered swiftly. If what I thought was about to happen actually did, then I needed to get into my suit as quickly as possible.
“New contact at extreme range, bearing fifteen degrees off our stern and approaching fast,” reported the Sensor Warrant.
I didn’t have time for this. “Fill me in as soon as I get my power armor on,” I said brusquely.
“But, Admiral,” the Warrant reported with excitement, “the new contact is a Battleship, tentatively identified as Dreadnaught class!”
My head whipped around almost entirely unbidden by my conscious mind. “What?” I said with surprise.
“New contact is moving to engage an enemy Battleship,” the Warrant continued to report.
“How do we know that? And is there anything we can do to support?!” I demanded, right about the same time a pair of enemy Battleships opened fire on the newcomer. Saint Murphy, make it be the timely arrival of the Commodore and not yet another in a series of droid tricks, I thought heavily.
“All we can get is a laser or two on the Battleship, nothing significant,” replied Tactical.
“Identity confirmed, it’s the Parliamentary Power, Admiral!” shouted an overly enthusiastic Sensor Operator.
“Yes! I knew I could rely—” The bridge rocked and I was thrown off my feet midsentence.
“Decompression event,” Damage Control controller Blythe reported stoically, “I’m reading laser burn through at four different points: two to the starboard gun deck and two to the port side.”
“The Chief Gunner reports he’s pulling his men off their guns and arming them to repel boarders,” Eastwood said, shattering his microphone by way of seriously denting his desk. “Request permission to lead a security force over to assist, Admiral,” he said, turning to me.
As I was crumpled into a heap on the floor right then, it wasn’t my finest moment. Shaking my head and reclaiming my feet, I turned to the First Officer. “Permission granted; coordinate with the Armory but don’t take anyone from the bridge other than yourself—and that includes our Lancer quads,” I instructed.
“Look at that,” exclaimed a sensor operator.
“I think the Power is about to ram,” another said in protest.
“Multiple contacts have left the port cruiser and are approaching this ship, sir,” reported Tactical.
Things were happening too fast. As I watched, trying to make up my mind as to my next course of action, Commodore Druid brought the Parliamentary Power against the enemy Battleship nearest her. The Commodore moved so close to the enemy that the icons representing the Power and the enemy ship interposed.
“Zoom in!” I ordered, grabbing hold of a nearby console as if for dear life, “and see if the Chief Gunner can’t use one of those plasma cannons to clear the space between us and the Heavy Cruiser.”
The main screen magnified in time for us to see the grand finale of the Commodore’s suicidal run against the enemy Battleship.
“She’s moving too fast; there’s no way to avoid a collision,” Laurent said anxiously, watching the drama play out on the screen like the rest of us.
“The Chief Gunner says it’s suicide; there aren’t enough functional guns to fully suppress the boarders, and that if he has to die fighting them anyway he’d rather go down with a sidearm at this point,” reported an Assistant Tactical Officer.
With a majesty that belongs solely to a Battleship at war—and completely unexpectedly, as far as I was concerned—the Parliamentary Power began to roll.
“What the blazes is he doing?” Captain Laurent now sounded frustrated as he watched the movements of the Parliamentary Power.
Shrugging off heavy fire from a pair of Battleships, as if it were nothing, the Power was most of the way through its turn when there was a blinding flash that sent ripples across the screen, temporarily fuzzing out our close view.
“What the blazes was that?” I demanded.
“The Parliamentary Power’s port shields are now at critical levels,” reported Tactical as readings started to return. “I’m seeing a critical wave fluctuation in the port shielding; if they don’t get it under control they’re going to lose it…” he paused for a beat, “it looks like the Power and the enemy Battleship may have had a glancing blow from an attempted ram, but I’m not sure at this point.”
“New information just in,” the Sensor Warrant said, “sensor returns show that the enemy Battleship lost its shields during the ramming event—it may have been a deliberate maneuver!?”
“The Power is coming around,” reported Tactical, “but enemy reinforcements are on the way. The Power is starting to take heavy fire!”
As I watched, Commodore Druids warship continued on through the edge of the enemy formation, knocking out the shields of one Battleship and lashing her hull with all the power and fury of a Dreadnaught class Battleship while pivoting to bring a second, nearest, Battleship under attack at the same time.
Fury and thunder blazed out from the Parliamentary Power’s flanks as she passed between two enemy Battleships—an act which was answered twofold, and as only Battleships can.
“The Power is taking heavy fire from Battleship #4—the one they knocked the shields out on—and #4 is trying to roll and present her still-working shields, however she’s dishing out more than she’s taking!” cried Tactical.
“Battleship #3,” Sensors reported, indicated the second battleship which the Parliamentary Power was simultaneously fighting, “is landing heavy fire on the Power’s shields. After taking most of the incoming fire on the way in, the Parliamentary Power’s starboard shields are significantly weaker than Battleship #3’s shields. She’s getting the worst of that engagement.”
“Gunnery reports that boarders have entered the port gun deck. They are taking heavy fire and we are starting to lose internal monitoring resources,” Blythe reported from her station at Damage Control.
“Blast!” I cursed, brought back to the reality of the situation. The greater picture didn’t matter a wit if I was gunned down by enemy boarders.
I ran into the ready room and suited up as quickly as possible, moving as fast as I could manage and not waiting long enough to p
ut on my helmet I ran back out onto the bridge.
“Confirm that!” Laurent demanded.
“Enemy sightings are confirmed, Captain,” Blythe reported calmly, “enemy boarders are Droid units.”
“Droids!” he cursed.
Taking in the information but ignoring the drama I looked back at the main screen.
While I’d been gone, the Parliamentary Power had come back around and was grimly entering a death spiral with Battleship #4.
“The Power is circling around Battleship #4; it looks like she’s trying to get to her unshielded side!” reported Sensors.
“Battleship #3 is holding its fire…I think they’re afraid of hitting their sister ship,” said Tactical.
“Report from Engineering: Armory teams report they’re starting to take fire. It sounds like enemy boarders aren’t just entering the ship through the holes in the gun deck,” Blythe reported clinically, “we may need to send additional units to maintain control.”
“What about Battleships #1 and #2?” I asked for clarification. One of them was standing off even farther away than Battleship #3, but the other was just sitting there…
Things were rapidly spinning out of control and, for a brief moment, I wondered if I should call in the rest of the fleet. But in the end I knew it would just be suicide for the other ships and crews.
Tactical turned to me with the answer to my query.
Chapter 39: Atticus Rides Again
“Argos and Messene!” the Lancer Captain roared.
The shields of the battleship in front of him flared as the first Phoenix shuttle slammed into them, and then started to fluctuate as a second and then a third shuttle smashed themselves to pieces against the mighty invisible walls that protected her.
“Death or glory, but we are following the last shuttle in,” barked the Tracto-an Lancer Captain Atticus.
Over their com-channels, the rest of the unit roared their approval.
“Did you want to live forever?” he demanded, and then started laughing as the last and final shuttle slammed into the shields. Blinded by the nearness of the shuttle crashing into the mighty warship’s shields, he held onto his grav-board and increased his speed. “Aim for the holes,” he instructed even though his visor was still completely polarized to the point he couldn’t see a thing.
Admiral Invincible (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 7) Page 30