by Richard Fox
“Can you disable it?” Gage asked.
“Negative, it’s under Siam ground control.” The lieutenant glanced at her screen. “They’re pulling more data than usual. Their jump computers must not have any historic data on file…maybe six more minutes until they have enough to follow us.”
“Guns, target the grav buoy and prepare to destroy it on my mark. Comms, get President Hu or their ground control station on the line and tell them to shut the buoy down.” Gage waited as both sections went to work.
“Commodore,” Price said, “I agree with your course of action, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that destruction of a grav buoy, no matter the circumstances, is a war crime.”
She was right, of course. Without a grav buoy, any ship that arrived in Siam space would have to return immediately to the last star they had a jump equation for or be stranded for months as onboard graviton seismographs rediscovered the pathway to another place. Destroying Siam’s grav buoy would isolate—and devastate—the planet.
“No word from Hu or ground control,” the comm officer said.
“Gunnery, transfer command authority to the cannons with the firing solution to my station,” Gage said. New screens popped up a moment later. He jabbed a finger into the blinking icons labeled FIRE and watched as yellow bolts leapt away from the Orion’s gun batteries and destroyed the buoy over Siam’s north pole.
“This was done under my decision, my authority, my responsibility,” Gage said. I may be damned for this in the future, but if the Daegon follow us to Sicani, then all will be lost, he thought.
“Enemy fleet increasing speed,” Price said. “I say you caught them off guard, sir.”
“If we manage the jump to Sicani, they won’t be able to follow us, for a while at least,” Gage said. Given the superior Daegon technology he’d seen thus far, he had a feeling they could overcome the lack of a grav buoy much faster than he could.
“Lens formation complete,” Price said. “Activate shields?”
“No, keep power to engines. We’ve time to light them before we’re in weapons’ range,” Gage said. In the holo tank, the 11th was arrayed in a lens with the curve toward the gaining enemy, the Orion in the center and the three battle cruisers Ajax, Concordia, and Storm, around the flagship. The frigate and destroyer squadrons formed concentric rings around the larger capital ships.
On his order, the ships would activate their shield emitters and put up an energy wall between them and the enemy…a wall with weak points behind each engine array. Most star navies pursuing a foe with shields up would try to overtake them from the side, force a broadside duel. Gage felt he was about to learn a very important, and painful, lesson in Daegon tactics and capabilities.
Minutes ticked by…and the Daegon fleet adjusted course to swing closer to Siam.
“Daegon commander is hailing you, sir,” the comms officer said.
“On my tank.” Gage stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back.
Tiberian appeared, shaking his head.
“I misjudged you, Gage. Albion was a just star nation, renowned for her honorable commanders…but I can appreciate a shrewd maneuver. Time for one of my own. Power down your ships and disable your weapons immediately or I will bombard what little remains of this…Siam. Many active Albion power signatures and communications relays are still there. How many men did you leave behind?”
“The planet is defenseless. I will order those left behind to surrender so long as you promise to treat them like proper prisoners of war. I do not know what you Daegon think to gain from this aggression, but murdering civilians from orbit is—”
Tiberian’s transmission cut out.
“Get him back,” Gage said. In the holo tank, the Daegon fleet spread apart as it sped closer to the planet.
“No answer, sir. Shall I raise Colonel Horton?”
Gage’s hands balled into fists. Tiberian already knew he had men and women on the surface. A transmission to Horton now could be traced, pinpointing the engineer’s location for a Daegon strike.
“No, don’t open any hails from the planet. It only puts them at risk,” Gage said.
“Nuclear munitions detected!” Commander Clark, the gunnery officer, shouted. “Two of the Daegon ships are hot, sir. Weapons are not in transit.”
He’d left men behind. Committed a war crime. Now this Tiberian had a knife to Siam’s throat and put their fate in Gage’s hand. With each step, Gage felt himself moving further and further from the ideal naval officer he’d wanted to be since he was a boy. There were millions of people on Siam, far fewer in his fleet…he wasn’t sure which decision would weigh heavier on his soul.
“President Hu is hailing us,” Captain Price said.
“Don’t answer,” Gage said. “The Daegon are doing this, not us. I’ll not be blackmailed into surrender, not when we can’t trust them to spare the planet.”
“Nuclear launch detected,” the gunnery officer said. Small icons bearing the ancient symbol of a radiation hazard sprang from two Daegon ships, fanning out and toward Lopburi and the last few densely populated towns.
Gage never took his eyes from the holo as the warheads streaked toward a populace that had already suffered so much…and watched them explode. The holo tank traced out the effects of the blast waves and what little remained of Lopburi was annihilated in seconds. He thought of the little girl, Tuyet, and her grandfather and hoped they didn’t suffer long.
“Fusion warheads, sir,” Clark said. “I’ll log the effects for later study…and as evidence to the rest of the core nations.”
Gage managed a nod.
“Enemy readjusting course,” Price said. “They slowed themselves down. They’ll be in torpedo range within ten minutes. At current speed, we can make the slip jump in…twenty minutes.”
Focus, Gage told himself. The fleet needs its leader.
“Order all ships to ready individual slip jumps,” he said. “We won’t be able to enter en masse once we engage the enemy. We will regroup once we reach Sicani space.”
Price nodded and tapped instructions onto her screens.
To escape with as many ships and lives as possible, Gage knew he had to slow the Daegon down. The less time his ships were under fire, the better chance the 11th had of reaching Sicani. Gage opened a tight-beam channel to the Retribution, one of his frigates.
Commander Barlow came up in the tank.
“Thomas? I mean, sir?” Barlow asked.
“I have a dangerous mission for you Michael,” Gage said. “I need someone aggressive and brave and you’re the best officer for the job.”
“You want me to do a dangle, don’t you? The same thing old man Bancroft said was the stupidest maneuver he’d ever heard of. I’m glad you called me. If you’d asked Dillard over on the Firebrand, I would’ve been insulted. Just my ship or my squadron?”
“Both squadrons; this is no time for subtlety. Time your attack to the first torpedo salvo. Inflict what damage you can, then make for the nexus. Hit and run, Mike,” Gage said.
“You think I’m going to get stuck against their battleships while I’m commanding a frigate? You said you wanted someone brave, not suicidal. I’m well aware you’ve the Crown Prince aboard the Orion. We’ll give these new bastards a bloody nose, teach them what it means to fight Albion’s finest hunter-killer squadron. See you in Sicani,” Barlow said and cut the channel.
The fleet’s six frigates broke from the formation and flew perpendicular to the path leading to the Sicani nexus. They’d stop beyond the known range of the Daegon vessels and keep pace with the enemy, daring them to break off and engage. Barlow would either strike the enemy with the devastating lances the frigates carried or retreat just out of range if the enemy tried to fight them, remaining a potential threat that could attack at any time.
Barlow had to either inflict damage and slow the foe, or draw off enemy ships to improve the Orion’s chances.
“Gunnery, ready a torpedo salvo. All ships and all tubes. Wide dis
persal pattern,” Gage said.
“Standard mix of laser and high-explosive warheads?” the gunnery officer asked.
“No…” Gage thought over the few minutes of combat footage from the Joaquim. “High explosive only. Load laser for the second salvo. All torpedoes.”
“But that’s—”
“Three-quarters of our laser inventory, I know. See to it—I’ll explain in a moment.” Gage turned his attention back to the holo tank as the ordnance sailors in the Orion and the battle cruisers readied the torpedoes. Each type of missile utilized the same body, but the warheads were interchangeable. Standard ship-to-ship engagements mixed the warhead types in the hopes the more destructive (and exceedingly more expensive and delicate) laser warheads could land a hit.
Gage waited as torpedo tubes across the fleet reported loaded and ready. The temptation to constantly issue orders to feel in control was almost palpable, but a commander that wanted to win a battle needed to issue the right orders at the right time, not give off a stream of micromanagements that could get jumbled during the fog of war.
Power fluctuations came off the Daegon battleships as their forward batteries prepared to fire.
“Light the shields!” Gage ordered.
The Orion groaned as her acceleration decreased and the inertial dampeners shifted power to the shields. The emitters in the four capital ships threw up a circular energy wall behind the fleet. The ring of destroyers shrank slightly to take refuge behind the wall; none of the smaller vessels carried emitters powerful enough to lend to the shield wall or take a direct hit from a capital ship’s broadside.
Fire erupted from the Daegon battleships and hundreds of blue bolts streaked through the void, dissipating against the shields in fading ripples.
“Shields holding,” Price said, “but they’re down to 82—now 74 percent and falling fast.”
“Gunnery, loose torpedoes,” Gage said.
Armored hatches across the Orion’s dorsal and ventral hull slid aside and magnetic rails inside the launchers spat torpedoes into the void. The weapons flew clear of the shield wall, then the internal engines kicked on. The torpedoes’ path bent toward the Daegon vessels and accelerated.
“Laser munitions loading,” the Clark said. “Full salvo ready in three minutes.”
“Hold salvo.” Gage gripped the sides of the holo tank as the torpedoes streaked toward the enemy. Their course began to waver as the cannon fire from the Daegon shifted from pounding the Albion shields to the torpedoes. Gage hit a button on his console and a freeze-frame of the moment pulled to the side of the tank.
Half the torpedoes succumbed to enemy fire before smaller point defense lasers erupted and annihilated the remainder in seconds. None of the weapons even came close to lethal range where afterburners would kick in and drive the warheads into their targets like a bolt shot from a crossbow.
“Gunnery, set offset engagement for the next salvo to four hundred kilometers,” Gage said. “Target the battleship to their left flank.”
Clark did a double take at Gage, then nodded quickly.
Gage opened a channel to the Retribution. “Barlow, this is your moment.”
“Engaging.” The six frigates turned on a dime and accelerated toward the Daegon ships.
Daegon fire shifted to the edge of the shield, concentrating on a small area just behind the destroyer Saber. The shield edge buckled and frayed apart. Cannon blasts smashed through the Saber’s engine block and ripped out her flank. The ship canted to the side, then cracked in half. The Daegon kept up the assault, blasting the vessel into fragments.
“No lifeboats on the scope,” Price said.
The next salvo flew away, and almost a hundred laser-tipped missiles closed on the enemy as Gage thumped his knuckles against the holo tank.
“Gunnery, continuous launch of all remaining torpedoes. Smaller vessels are the priority for laser warheads,” Gage said. His maneuver would either even the odds for escaping or do nothing more than waste lives and munitions. The next few seconds would tell.
The laser torpedoes closed and the energy batteries within the warheads overloaded into focusing crystals angled toward the targeted battleship. Coherent beams of searing light stabbed through the void and traced crimson lines across the ship’s shields. While nearly half the lasers missed at the long range, enough landed to have an effect. The Daegon shields glowed, forming a shell of swirling light as the onslaught overloaded the forward emitters. A pair of lasers ripped through the shields and into the leading diamond. The beams exploded out the bottom, shattering the armored sides. The last of the lasers scored hits up and down the hull and energy reading from the ship fell to zero.
The stricken vessel lurched to the side, then drifted off the pursuit path, trailing air and debris.
Gage ignored the cheers from his bridge crew as the Daegon fleet spread out. Their concentrated fire against his shields slackened, turning to the torpedoes launching from his ships every few seconds. The enemy tried to knock them down as soon as they cleared the shield wall with far less success than before.
“Not so confident now, are you?” Gage said to himself.
The Daegon ships to their right flank spread out as a few of the missiles closed…just as the frigates began their attack run. With their light shields and lances that ran the length of the ships, they were something of a glass cannon in any stand-up fight. The Albion admiralty strived to assign only the most aggressive (some said bloodthirsty) officers to command frigates and Gage waited to see if Barlow and the others would live up to that reputation.
The smaller enemy vessels on the outer edge kept their fire directed against the incoming torpedoes closing on the battleships, ignoring the incoming frigates. Gage’s brow furrowed in confusion—did they think the frigates weren’t a threat?
Lances with more destructive power than the laser torpedoes from the Retribution and Firebrand struck a smaller Daegon ship. The two beams hit within a few yards of each other and ripped through the shield and into the hull. The ship exploded and wreckage bounced within the still-active shields, leaving a pill-shaped mess behind as the shields faded away.
The two frigates fell back as the last four ships sprinted toward a battleship’s flank. The giant ship turned its cannons on the attackers, striking the prow of the Huntress. A hit broke through the hull and her engines gave out. Three frigates charged through the fire from the battleships and surrounding smaller vessels, then activated their lances. The beams converged against the shields over the battleship’s engines. The shields buckled under the onslaught…but held.
The three frigates looped away, retreating for open space. The Retribution and Firebrand, their lances recharged, dove toward the battleship and fired. The beam from Barlow’s ship powered through the shields and carved through the engines. Thruster nozzles the size of destroyers broke free and went tumbling end over end. The battleship slowed and fell out of the formation. Daegon cruisers slowed and closed around the battleship, forming a wall with their own hulls between the larger ship and the retreating frigates.
Gage opened a channel and said, “Well done, Retribution.”
Barlow came up in the tank. A small fire burned behind him and sparks showered onto his head and shoulders.
“There’s no response from the Huntress,” Barlow said. “She’s dead in space, but there are life signs. Permission to—”
“Commodore! Slip signature forming around the pursuing battleships!” Price shouted.
“What?” Gage looked away from his old friend to the mass of Daegon ships. Readings on the two battleships wavered…then the ships and several escorts vanished.
“Where’d they go?” Price asked.
“Contact! Thirty degrees mark twenty!” the helmsman called out.
One of the Daegon battleships was ahead and just below the fleet’s path…and it was racing right toward them.
“Shields forward! Evasive maneuvers!” Gage’s order came as the battleship opened fire.
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nbsp; With their shields concentrated in the wrong direction, the Daegon’s cannon fire punched against unprotected hulls. Armor plating along the Orion’s forward section buckled, and each hit sent a tremor through the deck that felt like a giant stomping toward Gage.
The Orion’s cannons opened fire, sending back a pitiful answer to the enemy battleship’s onslaught.
The battle cruiser Storm took direct hits to the command superstructure, each strike deforming the armor around the bridge like a sledgehammer to thin metal. A shot hit the cannon turret just at the superstructure’s base and the magazine full of plasma shells within the turret ignited. The explosion ripped the bridge away and knocked the ship off course.
The Orion’s shields finally shifted to cover the forward third of the ship, absorbing some of the punishment.
“Flight deck alpha is offline,” Price said. A damage report came up in the tank, pulsating red spreading from the prow to the forward cannon batteries. “Hull breach from decks three to nine. Turrets B-3 and C-4 are…destroyed.”
“Concentrate all fire on the battleship,” said Gage. The deck lurched aside as a power coupling along the outer edge of the hull exploded, sending off a shower of sparks and armor plating into the void.
“Sir, the Storm,” Price said.
The mortally wounded battle cruiser’s engines flared, sending it hurtling straight toward the enemy battleship.
“Her bridge is gone,” Gage said. “Who’s steering her?”
“The engine room could do it,” the helmsman said. “Can control everything but guns from there.”
The battleship tried to steer away, but the massive ship was a lumbering beast compared to the smaller Storm as it closed. The Daegon pounded the Storm, blasting her hull into a battered mess. The battle cruiser’s engines sputtered and faded out, but momentum carried the Storm forward and into the battleship’s flank. The Storm broke against the shields, tearing along the energy shell like a predator’s claws down bare flesh. The shield flickered and what remained of the Storm impaled itself into the enemy hull. The battleship’s fire slackened and energy readings from the ship dropped to almost nothing.