He knew he would take damage from the orbat field by attacking directly, but he could take the damage. His fleet’s supply of preformed rail gun projectiles would be critically low by the time he was done, but they were ridiculously easy to manufacture. He took no heed of that, as his auxiliary ships could manufacture more on the way to join Trang. Gupta could do nothing to replace the more sophisticated missiles he’d already lost and was sure to lose in the upcoming action, but again, he wouldn’t need them until he faced a major fleet action, and Trang could arrange a shipment from his fleet or Mars to intercept them before they battled Black near Ceres. With his mind clear, he gave his orders and watched with fascination as Jupiter went from a large sphere in their view to a roiling mass of turbulence that filled their screens from one angry end to the other.
AWS Warprize II
In the dim glow of the display panel, J. D. Black watched her target with an almost sociopathic curiosity. She would occasionally tilt her head slowly, either to the left or right as the mood suited her, whispering orders to the enemy or apologies to the millions of souls forever lost in Jupiter’s embrace. But always, J.D.’s lifeless eyes remained fixed and unflinching on her unsuspecting prey. Her half-scarred face, motionless and terrible, at last settled itself into a rictus of vengeful anticipation.
J.D.’s voice was quiet but purposeful. “Are all fleet systems restored?”
“Yes, Fleet Admiral,” confirmed Lieutenant Awala in a voice equally as subdued.
“Personnel?”
“Fully functional,” answered Awala, referring to the reanimation of nearly four hundred thousand spacers and assault miners.
“Were they debriefed about…” J.D. choked on her sentence.
“Yes,” glowered the lieutenant, allowing anger to creep into her voice. “They have been told everything.”
J.D. looked up from her display panel and turned to face Awala. “Then let’s jam the comm lines and let the enemy know they have company.”
Six and half million kilometers from Ceres, UHFS Liddel
Though he’d already done it hundreds of times before, Trang was performing a ritual that always seemed to fill him with nervous anticipation—readying and ultimately stepping into his battle suit. Though the readying part was now mostly taken care of by others—an act he’d been loath to give up but by necessity of time was compelled to—he’d always managed to find a few things left to adjust. It was a ritual that afforded him a precious few moments of quiet to steel his mind for what was to come.
All fleet personnel going into actual combat were required to wear the suits, as they were capable of sustaining life in a vacuum and had triage medical functions built in as well. But Trang found the most useful feature to be the contraption’s ability to eliminate all bodily waste in a manner he didn’t like to think too deeply on, but that made it possible for him stay in the command sphere indefinitely.
“Sir.” It was the comm officer’s voice. A rare intrusion into Trang’s personal quarters.
“Yes,” groused Trang, smarting at the interruption of his ritual.
“This is strange, sir. Might be nothing but…” The lieutenant’s voice faded.
“Traditionally, lieutenants don’t leave grand admirals waiting in the middle of a sentence,” Trang scolded with more concern in his voice than anger. Confusion before combat usually meant the enemy had done something clever. He hated clever enemies.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s just that Jupiter is, from a communications point of view, well … gone, sir.”
Trang called up the input from the communications station to his own board. The lieutenant had not been exaggerating. It was as if the entire planet had been dropped into a sea of static. Even images were being disrupted.
Trang let out one sad long breath and under it murmured, “Good-bye, Abhay.” Then he toggled his communication link to Zenobia.
Inner orbit of Jupiter, UHFS Redemption
Gupta was relaxing in his quarters with a meal of prime rib, rare, and a bottle of Terran-grown pinot noir. The destruction of the first block of high-value targets was proceeding well. Everything of value was pretty much gone, and the lead elements of his fleet were just beginning to engage the orbats of the Jovian Shipyard. With luck, he’d be done in a day. Then he’d fill his tanks with helium and his auxiliary ships with raw materials to replenish his rail gun munitions.
With a little more luck, the war would be over in a matter of months and his actions would be justified to those still in doubt about the moral necessity of the current campaign. He slid his knife into the succulent meat, and was raising the first bloody morsel to his salivating mouth when a small red light began blinking madly on the table just above where his plate was resting. He’d given specific orders not to be interrupted, which the quiet but persistent light had just succeeded in doing. He sighed heavily and put the fork, meat still attached, back down on the plate. The interruption showed a real lack of gumption by his first officer in not taking care of whatever problem Gupta would now have to solve.
“Yes,” Gupta huffed, trying to contain his annoyance.
“Admiral,” replied the comm officer in near panic, “our rearmost auxiliaries are under attack!”
Gupta pounced over to his communications array and transferred the sensor officer’s data feed to his quarters. His eyes widened as the bottom half of his mouth hung listless. In the next few seconds, he knew he’d be barking orders, running to the command sphere, and attempting to take control of an impossible situation. And even though he saw all these things that would happen, he also saw with unequivocal logic that he and his entire fleet might already be doomed.
“Order the fleet to concentrate!” he barked into his DijAssist as he ran out of his quarters on the way to the command sphere. “Bring Umbatu’s frigates to the rear of the auxiliaries and tell them to be prepared to fight regular Alliance forces!”
“Admiral,” said the voice over the DijAssist, “communications are difficult.”
“What do you mean, ‘difficult’?”
“Interference from the magnetosphere has increased off the chart. It’s as if all of Jupiter has just become one big ECM field. We can communicate with the fleet, but only basic voice and visual. High-density data transfer is a bust till we figure out a way around this unexpected phenomenon.”
“Admiral.” It was his XO, busting through the line. “Commodore Umbatu acknowledges your orders and is moving his frigates to engage the enemy and protect the remaining auxiliaries.”
As Gupta tore through his huge ship, now cursing the vastness he’d once taken such pride in, he called up the position of his ships and instantly began sending orders, changing their formation from a spread wedge to a compact sphere with the more vulnerable ships inside. As he was doing that, he was still talking with the crew of the command sphere. “The static is not, I repeat, not a phenomenon; it’s part of the attack. They’ve changed the nature of the magnetosphere to screw with communication, probably just ours—pass the word. How’s long-range communication?” Gupta already knew, but had to be sure.
“Nonexistent, Admiral,” declared the communications lieutenant.
“How nonexistent?” demanded Gupta, hoping for anything.
“We couldn’t get a message out of this mess with an array the size of Luna, powered by the New York fusion grid.”
“Okay. What about sensors?”
“Short range, acceptable,” advised the sensor officer, “but it’s going to be a stone-cold bitch to get an accurate visual. I might be able to tell you if a large enough ship is entering or leaving Jupiter’s orbit, but damned if I could tell you what sort.”
“Well, folks,” Gupta barked, finally entering the command sphere and assuming his seat, “looks like they’re trying to fuck us but good.” He managed it with a smile that brought nervous laughter from the crew—all of whom were clearly glad to see him in person. Gupta knew they were scared. “Scan each Alliance ship to the best of your ability. I want
to know if this is just four frigates and a bunch of old heavy haulers designed to make us panic or if J. D. Black and her supposedly ‘found’ fleet has just been re-found.”
“Yessir,” shouted the scanner officer, who dived madly back into his board.
“Comm, secure me a simultaneous line to Commodores Umbatu and Boroskolov.”
“May take a moment, sir.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Lieutenant.” Gupta delivered the line with a self-deprecating grin. Once again, the command sphere was filled with a smattering of nervous laughter.
“Lines secured, Admiral.”
Gupta activated his privacy mode, and the rest of the command sphere became muffled and fuzzy. He saw small holographic versions of Kate Boroskolov and Kevin Umbatu. “You know why I’m talking to the both of you.”
They both nodded. Boroskolov and Umbatu had been with Admiral Trang from the very beginning and had been transferred over to Gupta a number of years back. As such, Gupta had always afforded them a little more respect than the other equally ranked commodores under his command.
“What’s your take?” commanded Gupta.
Kate answered first and, as Gupta had come to expect, was forthright. “We’re screwed.”
Umbatu acknowledged his friend’s honesty with a churlish grin. “Any ideas how they got past us?”
“Hell if I know,” admitted Gupta, allowing some of his confusion to show. “We were scanning for something just like this, too. There is no way they could’ve moved an entire fleet this close to Jupiter without our having seen it.”
“Which means they’ve been here all along,” suggested Umbatu.
No one spoke as the reality of Kevin’s statement sank in. For the enemy to have waited that quietly and to have hidden as long as they had meant that whoever the UHF was now up against had guessed Gupta’s every move from the very beginning. Probably even before Gupta had made up his mind about going to Jupiter. Because if there really were a fleet hidden somewhere in the ether around the gaseous giant, it meant that they had to have sneaked in there piecemeal over a period of months, lest their movements be detected. The only other plausible explanation was that the hidden fleet bumping into Gupta now was a coincidence, and not even Gupta believed that. All the tired admiral could do now was hope and pray that the ships attacking his auxiliaries made up the bulk of the enemy fleet and that the rest were fakes. Gupta found it discomfiting to have been so transparent and at that moment realized that the only chance he now had of making it out alive was to do the unexpected.
“Why did they attack our auxiliaries like that?” asked Boroskolov. “I mean with the very lead elements of their fleet. They had the surprise on us. If they moved their heavy elements closer, they could’ve done us serious damage instead of destroying or damaging seven support ships.”
“This deep into Alliance space,” reckoned Gupta, “they know we need every support ship we can get, so it makes sense to take them out.”
“Maybe,” suggested Kate, “they figure that if we duke it out, there’ll be more of them left than us so we’ll have to run with nothing to support us in our retreat.”
Gupta nodded, considering her words. “Possible, but doubtful. The only reasonable explanation that I can think of is that since we were about to destroy J.D.’s precious Jovian Shipyards, she needed to get our attention—that is, before we let loose on the place.”
“Well, she sure got it, Admiral,” Umbatu growled. “What do we do now that she has?”
Gupta was straight and to the point. “Run like hell.”
“But if we stay and fight,” protested Kate, “we could hurt the last remaining Alliance fleet, possibly a lot. We’re better than she thinks we are, sir. That’s to our advantage.”
Gupta nodded, but his downturned lips were an indication of his thoughts on the suggestion. “We’re in the same situation as Tully was before the Battle of Jupiter’s Eye. But unlike him, both our fuel and our ammunition situation are critical. J. D. Black doesn’t know how critical, so if we’re lucky, she thinks we are going to fight. Better yet, it’s what I’d normally do.”
“Sir?”
“Give credit where credit is due, Kate. J.D.’s tracked me this far—and I assume it’s her out there—which means she knows how I’ll react and will be prepared for that. Well, like I said—normally, Kate, I’d agree with you. But I’m not gonna go with normal now, as I suspect it’ll get us all killed. And I’d rather get home alive with my tail between my legs than not get home at all.”
There were no further suggestions from the two commodores as the wisdom of Gupta’s remarks sank in.
“How are we going to run, then, sir?” asked Kevin. “As you said, we’re critically short of fuel, and somehow I don’t think the Alliance fleet is going to wait around while we fill our gas tanks.”
“No, Kevin, I doubt they will.” Gupta called up a holo-image and looked over the sensor reports. The extent of the enemy fleet was now apparent. If they were fakes, they were damned good and numerous fakes. “Shit”—Gupta scowled—“it’s really them.”
Umbatu sighed heavily. “Hoping it was a bluff?”
“Yeah, I was.”
“Me too,” agreed Kate.
“And here we are on the wrong end of the gravity well,” pointed out Gupta, referring to the fact that the UHF fleet was much closer to Jupiter and so would find it much harder to maneuver. The Alliance fleet, on the other hand, had the higher ground.
“We’ll use our position to the only advantage we have. With the Alliance fleet above and behind us, we’ll implement atomic acceleration to gain speed and use Jupiter’s mass and rotation to increase it. That should make up for our lack of fuel. When we’re going fast enough, we’ll use atomics once more to blast out of orbit.” Gupta saw them nodding their heads, thinking it through. “Now it may not be as simple as that. The Alliance fleet may choose to follow us using the same tactic, but if so, at least we won’t be fighting on the wrong side of this gas giant’s gravity well.”
He made some adjustments to the holodisplay, which were instantly communicated to the other two. “Sorry for the basic graphics; communications can’t handle heavy data transfer right now. As you can see, J.D. will be able to cause a significant amount of damage just by intercepting us as we leave orbit. Our own speed here will actually work against us—lack of control—and we don’t have enough interceptor projectiles left to form an effective defense. This is going to hurt us and hurt us badly, but with luck and boldness, we should be able to salvage two thirds of this fleet. Kevin, it will be up to you to get the fleet home.”
“Where will you be, sir?”
“If I know Black, she’ll make sure that of all the ships targeted, mine is the top priority.”
Neither commodore argued the point.
“That is actually for the good,” concluded Gupta. “More ships will escape, given her desire to get me.”
“Do you want to transfer some of your crew to other ships before we leave, sir?” asked Kate.
“No time. As soon as we break connection, orders will be issued to accelerate.” He made another adjustment to the holographic display. “We must flee in an arc fifteen degrees ahead of our current position vis-à-vis the Alliance fleet. If we do not, J.D. may be able to intercept us before we can achieve sufficient speed to give us a chance at escape. Now that still gives us some choices. I think this route is the best.”
The two commodores were surprised to see that the route led right under the Jovian Shipyards and was practically touching the outer atmosphere of Jupiter. “Sir,” argued Kevin, “that’ll give the shipyards’ orbats a shot at us as we go past. If we shift by only a couple of degrees, we’ll avoid the orbats completely.”
“Let’s not forget, our orders are to destroy that shipyard. We won’t have the time with one pass, but just as they can shoot at us, we can shoot a lot more at them. Also J.D. will be less likely to try something fancy if their shipyard is in the way, and with her in high o
rbit, if we go under the damn thing it will be in the way.”
“What if she doesn’t care about the shipyard,” asked Kate, “and just wants to kill us?”
“If that were the case,” argued Gupta, “she wouldn’t have revealed her position so early. Remember, I’ve got to go with second-guessing myself. I have to ask myself in a situation like this, where I’m at the disadvantage, I wouldn’t normally attack a heavily fortified shipyard. When J.D. sees that we’re attacking and—at least from her vantage point—not running from her, she’ll have to adjust. I’m hoping that adjustment will give us enough time to make our break.”
Gupta waited for the plans to sink in.
“This is going to be desperate, but with luck, most of this fleet will escape, and we’ve hurt the Alliance deeply here. By these actions, they might be forced to come to the bargaining table and end this war.” Gupta was silent for a moment and then shifted his stance into full military pomp. He brought his arm up in stiff salute. “It has been an honor and a privilege to have been your commanding officer.”
The commodores saluted and bade their good-byes.
Gupta keyed in the final commands and then looked up for one last time. “Get ’em home safe, Kevin. I’m counting on you.”
Kevin nodded. “I will, sir.”
“Gupta out.”
Inner orbit of Jupiter
The ships commanded by Fleet Admiral Abhay Gupta accelerated using atomic blast to an impressive speed, straining the structural support of every vessel. With great skill showing years of training and months of active combat, the fleet reorganized its position so the strongest ships with the heaviest fire would be closest to the orbats of the Jovian Shipyards. As they drew near, the two sides exchanged fire, causing more damage to the shipyard than to the rapidly passing fleet.
But that was rendered moot in an instant when, as the UHF fleet was passing at its closest point to the yard, the entire complex exploded in a massive wave of concussive energy. The sideways force of the blast hit Gupta’s fleet just as it was accelerating away. Only now instead of skimming Jupiter’s upper atmosphere, they were being driven directly into it. Within minutes, every single ship under Abhay Gupta’s command disappeared into the churning clouds of the perpetually storming planet.
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