Destroyer (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 3)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  Their shared connection of having both served under Jackson Wolfe had helped smooth over most of the awkwardness when two strangers are thrown into such a close working relationship. Simmons had been enthusiastic and helpful when it came to working out the details of Barrett's revised tactics for the Vega-class assault carriers and had largely resisted the usual "Well this is how we used to do things …" mantra that came when an outsider began making radical changes.

  When Barrett got to his quarters, he set an alarm to wake him in four hours and then flopped back on his rack without even taking his boots off. He was careful to temper his impatience at his ship's more modest speed after years of being used to the Icarus's capabilities. It was tempting to push the engines even harder and run her up past flank and into emergency power, but he'd see a minimal gain and risk damaging his ship before she even made it into battle. Part of him had been hoping that when his single little assault carrier had sped off to protect the shipyards that Fourth Fleet Command would redeploy some of their Intrepid-class destroyers, but so far the Link data showed all Fourth Fleet ships maintaining tight formations around Columbiana.

  He'd been involved in nearly every major incident since the first Phage unit showed up in Terran space, but always as a background player. There would be no hiding behind the experience and boldness of Wolfe or Wright this time. He was surprised to learn that with that realization came a feeling of calm. He'd made his decision, the crew and ship were ready … it was time to prove that he deserved to sit in that seat.

  "Contact! The HEI Ironworks complex is reporting sporadic radar returns that are consistent with the profile we sent them."

  "How long until we're within detection range for our own tracking radar?" Barrett asked.

  "Still another five hours, sir," Lieutenant Dole spoke up from OPS. He was another holdover on the Aludra Star from the Juwel campaign and, as Wolfe had indicated might be the case, Barrett was less than impressed with his initiative. To be fair though, the man had never failed to provide what was asked of him.

  "OPS, how much more aggressive can our decel burn be?" Barrett asked.

  "Even under full emergency power we're over four hours from the HEI shipyard," Dole said. The Star was already rumbling and groaning as the mains roared at full reverse to slow their mad dash.

  "Give me a projected course correction for intercept based on the last position provided by the shipyard's radar operators," Barrett said. "Assume that we'll be entering the engagement under acceleration and no longer braking."

  "That cuts us down to just under two hours assuming we're back under full power within the next ten minutes," Dole said. "We'll be carrying so much velocity that we won't be able to do much more than overshoot the engagement area and come onto a course that will allow us to slow and sling around the sixth planet … that means we can't make it back to the shipyards for another forty-two hours, give or take."

  "Helm, all ahead flank," Barrett said, making his decision in an instant.

  "Sir?" Simmons asked.

  "This gives us our best shot at actually getting there in time," Barrett explained, making sure his voice was loud enough for the entire bridge crew to hear. "The Star would be hard-pressed to stand toe to toe with this enemy ship as you all are well aware, and if we continue to decel so that we're able to maneuver over the fourth planet we'll likely be too late to do any good."

  "Yes, sir," Simmons said. "Coms, relay our new plans to Fourth Fleet Command."

  "And tell them we highly recommend they sent a destroyer or three out here as fast as they can fly," Barrett added. "Tactical, when we cross the fifteen-million-kilometer threshold I want four hornets fired directly at where our updated data has the target. Full burns on first and second stages and then detonate the warheads once they're within four million kilometers."

  "Programming now, sir," Lieutenant Commander Adler said from the tactical station. She went about the task without question and with a proficiency Barrett wasn't used to seeing from her.

  As Celesta Wright's former tactical officer, Adler had been given the option of transferring over to the Star with Barrett when it was decided the Icarus was to be decommissioned, or she could put her name back into the pool and take her chances on a new assignment. Barrett had been completely surprised when she'd asked to serve under him given the fact there was little love lost between them. The promotion board had apparently been very frank with her when she was passed over for full commander, and when she reported to the Star the newly promoted captain saw a genuine effort on her part to step up her performance.

  "When you have that program locked in, I want two Shrikes prepped for a snap launch that will take them on a course tangential to our own by two degrees to port," Barrett went on. "Utilize as much momentum from the launchers as possible and keep the first stage burns minimal … coordinate with CIC and the munitions backshop for any help you may need on that. Set both missiles for silent running; no telemetry stream back to us. We'll just have to hope they make it to where we want them to be."

  "Aye, sir," Adler said and immediately pulled her headset all the way on and reached for her com panel.

  "The Hornets are to be a distraction," Barrett explained to his XO, who was patiently waiting until he'd finished giving orders. "They'll fly out at full burn with active sensors and then blow up in a big light show at the end. We'll try to sneak around a pair of Shrikes ahead and to the outside of our orbital insertion vector and then when our radar gets a positive lock we'll—hopefully—have two weapons in the area that have a chance at making a hit."

  "Sound strategy, Captain," Simmons said.

  "It's a desperate gamble," Barrett admitted with a barely perceptible shrug. "But with the sleds currently in the launch bay just training models with dummy ballast loaded on them, we're limited in what we can do. Our laser batteries are able to do significant damage, but we don't have the engine power to get in close and then escape before it can turn its plasma lance on us." Barrett sighed and rubbed at his scalp.

  "To be honest, XO, I'm just trying to chase this bastard away from the shipyards. In past engagements it's shown itself to be very hesitant to risk taking a direct hit, and I'm betting that a close call with a pair of Shrikes will send it slinking off until Fourth Fleet decides to redeploy into an actual defensive grid."

  "Understood, sir," Simmons said. "And I stand by my previous statement: It's a sound strategy."

  "Hornets and Shrikes prepped to fire, sir," Adler said.

  "Fire," Barrett ordered. "OPS?"

  "One hour and fifty-six minutes, sir."

  "Coms, let the HEI shipyard know that we're inbound with weapons hot," Barrett said. "I'd appreciate it if they would include all their high-res radar data on the Link."

  "Aye, sir."

  The bridge was almost peaceful with the steady, soft hiss of the environmental ducts and the gentle rocking from the engines straining at full power. Barrett looked around and saw that his crew looked alert, but relaxed, and had to keep reminding himself that they were all battle-hardened spacers. The moment wasn't like how he'd imagined it would be, this first time into battle as the master of a starship. He assumed he'd feel like a fraud or that the crew would sense his own fear and it would shake their confidence, but instead he felt … ready. It wasn't that he was at all eager to pit his assault carrier against the specialized Darshik cruiser, but he was confident that his strategy would allow for the best odds of protecting vital Federation assets as well as keeping his crew and ship from harm.

  The Star would be screaming by the fourth planet at nearly nine percent the speed of light, far too fast for the Darshik to intercept and employ their preferred close-in weapon. If the Shrikes he would fire shortly did the trick of forcing the Specter to turn and run or warp-hop further out into the system, he could consider the engagement a wild success. Barrett had to keep reminding himself, however, that this was no ordinary ship commander he was facing and every time this ship appeared in Terran space it had som
e new tactical capability added to it.

  "HEI complex Link data coming in now, Captain," Dole reported. "CIC is adding to our own sensor feed and accounting for propagation lag … here it comes." The lieutenant gestured to the main display where more detail was being added to the tactical overlay of the system. A bright red, flashing reticle icon flying near the outer edge of the station's defensive range came through with all the associated sensor data. Barrett could see right away something was wrong.

  "Shit," he said. "Look at its relative velocity."

  "It's just enough to keep up with the shipyard's orbital velocity," Adler said. "Virtually motionless, sitting just outside their missile range."

  "Right on both counts, Lieutenant Commander," Barrett agreed.

  "HEI's Complex Operations Control reported the enemy has fired seven low-power particle beam barrages at them over the last fourteen hours," Ensign Wu spoke up. "I’m sorry, sir, it's like pulling teeth trying to get all the information from them in a concise way."

  "Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault, Ensign," Barrett told her. "Was there any damage from the weapons fire?"

  "Negative, sir," Wu said. "The impact caused some bright sparks and scorched off the outer hull coating but no actual damage."

  "Just enough to keep their attention—"

  "Tactical!" Barrett cut off his XO. "Spit two Shrikes out the aft tubes … no targeting data and no first stage burn."

  "Firing Shrikes from tubes four and six, aye," Adler said. "Missiles away and standing by for target package … tubes four and six reloading with the last of the Shrikes for the rear launchers. Do you want me to have Munitions transfer two more from the forward magazine?"

  "Not at this time," Barrett said. "We may need them for the forward tubes shortly. Adler, be ready to quickly turn those Shrikes loose. Let them auto-target on any Darshik return they get. We probably won't have time to feed them a full targeting package.

  "Look alive, everyone! The Specter is just pacing the station outside their maximum effective range and we're the only ship so far coming to the defense. We're probably being baited in, so keep a sharp eye on our six and make sure you're ready to react instantly."

  "They've used this tactic before," Simmons said as he rolled his shoulders and massaged his neck. "They'd try to keep us focused on the obvious attack while their cruisers would—"

  "Possible contact, quartering in off the aft-starboard quadrant," Adler said calmly. "Intermittent returns but CIC puts the range at one hundred and sixty-four thousand kilometers."

  "Do they have a profile for the ship?" Barrett asked.

  "The computer is matching it to the Specter with a probability of eighty-seven percent," Adler answered.

  "This … isn't good," Simmons said. "Two Specters?"

  "One ship trying to stay hidden, one sitting as obvious bait," Barrett mused. "We're only seeing what they want us to see right now. Tactical, fire the two lead Shrikes at the target over the HEI complex. Let's shake things up a bit and see what sort of reaction we get. OPS, back Tactical up and monitor the trailing ship."

  "Sending targeting data and fire authorization to deployed Shrikes now," Adler said. "First stage will fire again in four minutes."

  Barrett thought hard on the position he found himself in. The ship over the fourth planet was obviously meant to be seen and fired at, but was the ship behind him really meant to stay hidden? Or were they allowing gaps in their countermeasures to try and continue herding him along? He had the two ship busters he'd deployed earlier streaking towards the first ship and he had two more that had been spit out of the aft tubes that were just trailing along behind them, slowly increasing the gap as the Star continued on under power. He had weapons coverage fore and aft of the Star, but he still felt like he was missing the big picture.

  "Sir! Message coming in from Fourth Fleet Command," Ensign Wu said. "They're sending three Intrepid-class destroyers to our aid."

  "Excellent news," Barrett said. "They could ignore a single panicked tug pilot but not hard sensor data broadcast over the Link."

  "At maximum performance the destroyers can be here in nine hours, sir," Lieutenant Dole said. "The telemetry over the Link shows them running at full emergency power."

  "Helm! Hard to port!" Barrett barked. "Everything she's got! Tactical, keep a sharp eye on our trailer."

  "Hard to port, aye!"

  The Aludra Star groaned as the g-load increased and she ponderously began to push onto the new course. After a few moments the deck really began to vibrate and the crew was shaken in their seats as the main engines struggled to overcome their inertia.

  "Contact over the HEI shipyards has disappeared," Dole said, raising his voice over the rattling of the ship. "Transition flash is consistent with an intrasystem hop."

  "Did the computer categorize the flash to a specific ship type?" Barrett asked.

  "It most closely matches a standard Darshik cruiser."

  "That ship was the decoy," Barrett announced to the crew. "We will now assume that the real Specter is still tailing us. Tactical, have the Shrikes we fired at that decoy come about and burn their second stages … put them in high orbit over the fourth planet."

  "Safing warheads and sending course corrections now, sir," Adler said. "No further contact from the pursuing ship."

  "Helm! Zero thrust … steady as she bears," Barrett ordered. "OPS, begin plotting reciprocal courses to get us back to that planet, back to Columbiana, or on an intercept to get behind the destroyer screen coming to meet us."

  "Engines answering zero thrust, aye," the helmsman said. "The Star is now ballistic."

  "Tactical, safe the Shrikes we had flying along behind us," Barrett said. "Put them in orbit as well if you can. Fleet can't afford to waste any right now, so we can't just blow them."

  "Aye, sir."

  "This is strange," Simmons remarked. "They had the upper hand … why all the theatrics and then just cut and run when we fire a few missiles from long range?"

  "That's a good question, XO," Barrett said. "Coms, find out from—"

  "Distress call coming in from … the Carsten Deep Space Observatory," Ensign Wu said. "It's on the other side of the system in a heliocentric orbit past the eighth planet."

  "I've never heard of it and I'm from this system," Simmons said.

  "What's the nature of their distress, Ensign," Barrett asked.

  "They say they're under attack by a single ship of unknown origin," Wu said. "The signal terminated mid-sentence on the second call."

  "Son of a bitch," Barrett said, leaning back. "That was the objective. The Forge and the two shipyards were just to focus and get us moving on the wrong thing. They had to be believable so they picked critical infrastructure targets. For us to get the distress signal now means they must have attacked that station as soon as they knew most of the Fleet ships were heading to the planet."

  "So they could then go and attack an observatory, sir?" Adler asked, genuinely confused.

  "Have you ever heard of a crewed observatory, Lieutenant Commander?" Barrett asked. "They're either all automated or ship-based. It's almost guaranteed that the Carsten Observatory was the cover story for another highly secret research lab … and that makes it at least the second one the Darshik have hit within the last seven months."

  "Orders, sir?" Simmons asked.

  "Take us back to Columbiana," Barrett said, standing up. "It would take us days to get back around the system and Fourth Fleet has much more capable ships to attempt an intercept. You have the bridge, Commander. Stand down from general quarters and let Fourth Fleet Command know that we have four Shrikes that will need to be retrieved."

  "I'll take care of it, Captain," Simmons said.

  6

  "How long do you think they'll keep us out here?"

  "Until the Ushin delegation is gone," Jackson answered, trying to not become annoyed at the question he'd heard at least three dozen times by as many officers since they'd arrived.


  The Nemesis had flown hard all the way back to the DeLonges System only to find that a six-ship Ushin delegation was already in orbit over one of New Sierra's moons while a pack of Terran warships, including the first operational Juggernaut-class battleship, shadowed them.

  As soon as New Sierra Orbital Control had received the Nemesis's beacon they'd sent orders telling the destroyer to get into formation with the other Seventh Fleet ships flying in high orbit over the smallest of the two gas giants in the system. They'd been there for seven days now, trailing along behind one of Black Fleet's last true fleet carriers, now relegated mostly to post-battle recover efforts. They'd been overflown nearly two dozen times since entering the formation as all the commanders of Seventh Fleet ships wanted to see the new Valkyrie-class up close and render honors to their most infamous shipmaster.

  In the downtime, Jackson had decided to reinstate the tradition of Captain's Mess in order to get a better feel for his new crew under nonworking conditions. After hosting officers and enlisted spacers from Engineering the previous evening, Jackson was now comfortably lounging with his senior staff and bridge crew, collars on their dress blacks open and more than a few empty bottles of expensive wine sitting on the white tablecloth.

  "I wonder if our mission was so well-known that it'd be considered provocative for us to enter orbit over the capital," Accari said.

  "I doubt it, Idris," Commander Chambliss said. Jackson noticed his XO used first names with his subordinates during occasions like a formal mess. He didn't disapprove of the familiarity, it was just wasn't his style.