The Long-Range War

by Christopher Nuttall

  Hameeda couldn’t help feeling a little confined, even though she knew the odds of an accidental collision were very low. It was the downside of her neural link, she suspected; she was intimately aware of the location of each and every starship in the fleet, an awareness that felt curiously oppressive as it pressed down on her. Cold logic told her she was fine, that she was in no danger; emotionally, she felt trapped in a tiny space. She hadn’t felt so confined since the first day she’d crawled into a Jefferies Tube as a cadet.

  There’s nothing to fear, she told herself, although it felt unconvincing. She wanted to gun the engines and move away from the fleet, she wanted to run ... alerts flashed up in her neural link as her heart started to pound faster. Hameeda took a deep breath, calming herself as best as she could. There really is nothing to fear ...

  ... Except the enemy, her own thoughts answered back. She could see the enemy ships clearly now, even though they were still in FTL. It wouldn’t be long before they dropped out of FTL and went on the attack. We do have them to fear.

  Her lips quirked at the thought. Admiral Stuart had given her some very complex orders, with instructions to carry out as much of them as she could. Hameeda had every intention of carrying out all of them, although she knew it might not be possible. Her ship pulsed with anticipation as she readied herself for her mission, despite the risk of a violent death. The enemy might score a direct hit with their energy weapons, or even a lucky shot with a missile, and blow the LinkShip to atoms. She shook her head, dismissing the fear. She’d known the risks when she’d joined the navy. It wasn’t as if she’d had to join the navy.

  Thank God my mother got on that ship, she thought, reflectively. She had no idea what would have happened to her if her mother had stayed on Earth, but she knew it would have been horrific. Earth was a hellhole, even in the halfway decent regions. The Solar Union was far superior. And now I fight to defend it from alien enemies.

  It was an odd thought. She’d been told, years ago, that people had believed that truly advanced aliens would have outgrown war and conquest by the time they encountered the human race. But the Galactics, thousands of years older than humanity, still invaded worlds, enslaved entire races and generally acted like interstellar conquerors. Perhaps it was a fundamental truth that the universe was red in tooth and claw, that someone could either be strong and secure or weak and insecure; perhaps it was a sign that the Galactics, for all their prowess, were simply not advanced enough. And even if they had been, could they have remained a healthy society when they ran into new threats? How many human societies had reached the pinnacle of existence, such as it was at the time, and then collapsed when faced with a threat they were unprepared to handle?

  Let us hope the Tokomak see us the same way, she thought. It didn’t look like it - the Tokomak had recognised the threat humanity represented, even if they hadn’t managed to crush the human race - but she could hope. And that we’ll be smart enough to avoid creating new enemies.

  The timer ticked down to zero. There was a long pause, just long enough to make Hameeda wonder if Admiral Stuart had been wrong and the Tokomak were trying to duplicate her feat of jumping into a gravity shadow, then her awareness filled with deadly red icons. The enemy fleet had arrived. And they looked ready for a fight.

  Well, Hameeda thought. A flash of dark amusement ran through her mind. The band is playing, the stage is set ... it’s time to see if we can dance.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “The enemy fleet has been detected,” the aide said, as if Neola couldn’t see the display for herself. “They’re holding position near the planet.”

  “Ready to fire a single salvo and run,” Neola said. It wasn’t a bad tactic, she noted. Indeed, a few years ago, it would have been quite effective. “Angle us towards them, least-time course. Close the range as much as possible.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Neola nodded to herself as more and more data flowed into the sensors. It didn’t look as though N-Gann had been turned into a fortress, suggesting that the enemy didn’t have a hope of holding it. She allowed herself a moment of relief - pinning down the enemy fleet would have been costly, even if it would also have had its advantages - as her fleet slowly converged on the enemy position. Their tactics weren’t bad, but there was something they hadn’t taken into account.

  And yet, they should have taken it into account, Neola thought. Do they think they can jump out of a gravity shadow?

  She shrugged. If the humans could escape a gravity shadow, particularly one cast by a gravity generator rather than a planet-sized mass, it was better to find out now than risk being surprised during a more significant engagement. Her imagination was more than up to the task of thinking up interesting ways to use such an ability. Who knew what the humans would think up? They seemed to have spent centuries imagining ways to use tech they’d never been able to produce for themselves.

  “Activate the gravity generators,” she ordered.

  Her eyes narrowed as the gravity generators came online, trapping both fleets in normal space. The humans didn’t seem inclined to run, even though they could probably have avoided engagement by altering course and simply outrunning her ships. Were they confident they could win a missile duel? Or did they think their point defence was enough to make up for their low magazines? Or ... there were simply too many possibilities, none of them good. She reminded herself, sharply, that the humans were not gods. They could be beaten. She’d beaten them once already.

  “Lock missiles on target,” she ordered. If the humans were fool enough to duel with her, so much the better. “And fire!”

  Her ship shuddered as she unleashed a massive salvo of missiles. The other superdreadnaughts and battleships followed suit, watching and waiting to see what the humans would do. If they could jump out of a gravity well, they’d do it now. There was nothing to be gained by sticking around and letting her take pot-shots at them. Hell, they’d even cost her a few hundred thousand missiles. But the humans were just sitting there. They weren't even trying to fire back.

  Neola frowned. A trick? Human ECM was very good. Had she just expended hundreds of thousands of missiles on a handful of sensor drones? The human fleet might be long gone, leaving only a collection of decoys to make her look foolish in front of the entire galaxy. It might even work in their favour. Neola had no illusions about what would happen if she looked weak or stupid. Her subordinates would start sharpening their knives before plunging them into her back.

  And I’ll be sent to the retirement home, she thought morbidly. Unless someone decides to set another precedent by killing me.

  The enemy point defence opened fire, blasting hundreds of missiles out of space. Neola felt a moment of cool relief. The human ships were real ... and they couldn’t jump out of a gravity well. They’d been stupid and they were going to pay the price. Unless ... she wasn’t sure she believed they had been stupid. The humans appeared to have made a number of mistakes, mistakes that no tactician would make. And that meant ... what?

  “They’re cutting down most of our missiles,” her aide reported. “Projections indicate that only a few hundred will strike their targets.”

  “Fire a second salvo,” Neola ordered, curtly. The humans would run out of luck, sooner or later. She could afford to smother them in missiles to overwhelm their point defence and smash their ships, one by one. “And then shift to rapid fire.”

  She frowned as the remaining missiles died, seconds before reaching their targets. The projections had been optimistic. Only a handful of missiles survived long enough to actually strike home, doing little damage. Their targets shrugged off the blows. Perhaps the humans hadn’t been quite so stupid after all. They might survive a missile duel if her missiles couldn’t touch them. But she’d been firing at maximum range. They’d have less time to calculate firing solutions and take down her missiles as the range narrowed.

  “Switching to rapid fire,” her aide said. He broke off as the display updated. “Your Ex
cellency, the enemy have opened fire.”

  “Duly noted,” Neola said, dryly. The humans hadn’t fired anything like as many missiles as she’d expected. Their magazines had to be running dry. She was surprised they hadn’t tried to press the captured missiles into service. The captured missiles weren’t up to modern standards, but it wasn't as if the humans had a choice. “The point defence will engage the enemy missiles when they enter range.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency,” the aide said.

  And then we will put an end to this, Neola thought. She watched her second salvo tear into the human defences. This time, more missiles were breaking through and falling on their targets. The human ships were tough, but not that tough. And then we will drive on Earth.

  ***

  “Admiral,” Yolanda said. “The enemy has switched to rapid fire.”

  Hoshiko nodded, unsurprised. She’d offered the enemy CO a chance to end the engagement quickly, before superior human technology could come into play. The alien would probably suspect a trap - she’d created a scenario that practically begged the aliens to come slaughter their human foes - but they couldn’t let the opportunity slide. Normally, she would have switched to rapid fire too; now, she simply couldn't afford it. Her magazines were on the verge of being shot dry.

  She gritted her teeth as the alien missiles hurtled into point defence range. There were too many of them for her defences to kill, despite the AIs and RIs handling the defences. A missile slipped through, followed by two more ... she cursed as they slammed into a cruiser, their antimatter warheads detonating with terrifying force. Others sneaked through the defences, the damage rapidly mounting up as they struck their targets. She wondered, as the battering match started to grow out of control, if she’d made a mistake. Her fleet could not afford to be battered into uselessness.

  “Our missiles are entering their defence perimeter,” Yolanda said. “Their point defence is doing well.”

  “Better than we expected,” Hoshiko conceded. The Tokomak seemed to be getting better with every engagement. They’d probably learnt a great deal from the last engagement. And the enemy CO didn’t seem inclined to make mistakes. The sheer weight of firepower she could bring to bear against her opponents made up for any deficiencies in technology. “Can you locate weak points within their defence?”

  “No,” Yolanda said. “The analysts are unable to find them.”

  Too many ships, Hoshiko thought. They can probably cover themselves even when faced with a serious threat.

  She leaned forward. “Launch the second salvo,” she ordered. “And tell the LinkShip to move in afterwards.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  ***

  “The enemy are firing a second barrage,” the aide reported. “They’re targeting the lead ships.”

  “Good,” Neola said. The enemy should have been firing a great many more missiles. They had to be running short. Her point defence had stopped almost all of the first wave of missiles in their tracks. But if the humans had fired a second wave of missiles before the first one had been stopped ... she shook her head. It was time to put an end to the affair. “Close the range.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency,” the aide said.

  Neola smiled to herself. The humans had overplayed their hand. Their ships were still faster than hers, in and out of FTL, but they no longer had time to reverse course and run for their lives. She’d be on them before they could escape. And then ... she’d take damage, of course, but she could replenish her losses before the humans even knew their fleet had been destroyed. The plan hadn't failed, not completely. It had merely been rewritten to accommodate changing circumstances.

  Another shudder ran through the giant ship. Neola’s smile widened. It wouldn’t be long now.

  ***

  Hameeda had to fight to keep her emotions under control as the LinkShip raced forward, protected only by a faint stealth field and the sheer number of missiles heading in the same general direction. Admiral Stuart had deployed hundreds of ECM decoys and penetrator drones to help the missiles break through the enemy point defence, although the vast number of enemy ships tended to even the odds. The Tokomak had enough firepower to engage every incoming threat without caring if it was real or not. Hell, they’d learn a great deal simply by noting which target failed to explode.

  Space roiled and seethed with energy as antimatter warhead after antimatter warhead detonated uselessly on the edge of the enemy point defence envelope. There were so many missiles that one of them exploding tended to set off a chain reaction that took out a number of others. And yet, it wasn't all bad. The antimatter blasts disrupted enemy sensors, making it harder for them to pick up the next wave of missiles. Or the LinkShip. Hameeda braced herself, then slid through the enemy point defence without being noticed. The enemy had too much else to worry about.

  I see you, she thought, as her subroutines hastily dissected the enemy formation. The Tokomak operated a strict hierarchy, with orders coming from the top and being passed down through a network of smaller ships. It was fairly easy for her to locate the command ships, even though they’d made some progress towards concealing them. They probably hadn’t expected someone to fly right into their formation. I see you ... and I have you.

  She activated both hammers, targeted the command ships and launched the missiles. There was no way to hide their presence, not once the black holes had been unleashed, so she spun the LinkShip into a series of wild evasive manoeuvres. The enemy opened fire a second later, unleashing so many plasma bolts that anything less than a LinkShip would have been hit. She ducked and dodged, no longer bothering to hide, as the first hammer punched into a superdreadnaught and vaporised it. The second was nearly at its target when a light cruiser deliberately rammed the missile to save the bigger ship.

  Bastard, Hameeda thought, without heat. The explosion had taken out the hammer as well as the enemy ship. That was a neat trick.

  She corkscrewed through the enemy formation, her sensors picking it apart in a desperate bid to locate the remaining command ships. There were no more hammers, no way of taking the command ships out in a single blow, but the enemy didn’t know it. They focused all their attention on her, even as part of their command network started to collapse. She didn’t bother to fire back, not with her remaining weapons. They’d write her off as a threat if they thought she didn’t carry anything more dangerous than phasers.

  At least I made them panic, she told herself. Her awareness was already touching the enemy command network. And I have one more trick up my sleeve.

  ***

  Impossible, Neola thought, numbly.

  She watched the enemy ship flying through her fleet, unable to believe that it could evade the sheer weight of firepower directed against it. It was tiny, for all of its potency; the human ship had taken out a superdreadnaught that outmassed it by a several orders of magnitude. And it had had a major impact. A number of her ships had fallen out of the point defence network completely. They were already being targeted by enemy missiles.

  “Widen the command network,” she ordered. She’d never anticipated losing a command ship, not like that. It was sheer dumb luck that her ship hadn’t been targeted. “And bring all the ships back into the datanet.”

  She cursed the humans under her breath. Their tactic had been cunning enough to do real damage, although they’d told her a great deal that - she suspected - they hadn’t wanted her to know. They only had one of the mystery ships or they’d have sent more of them. She didn’t want to think about how much damage two or three of them would have done. Her formation would have shattered if she’d lost more command ships.

  That’s something we’re going to have to fix, she thought. The human datanet was much more flexible. They’ll try and do that to us again.

  “Continue firing,” she ordered. The enemy ship was a nuisance, but it appeared to have fired all of its hammers. It would have taken out more command ships if it could. “Destroy the enemy fleet.”

  ***<
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  Hameeda allowed herself a tight smile as she feinted at a superdreadnaught, then spun around and dropped out of range when the enemy ship opened fire. The Tokomak seemed almost scared of her, although they hadn’t taken their eyes off the prize. She had to dodge instinctively as a wave of missiles shot past her, heading for the human ships. It made her wonder if the aliens would think of trying to use shipkiller missiles to swat her like a bug.

  Her awareness expanded rapidly as her sensors picked the enemy command network apart. It was easy, now, to tell which ship was the command ship, although the Tokomak did seem to be trying to reorganise their datanet to hide their flagship. Too late, she told herself. They really should have been a little more flexible. Relaying orders from ship to ship wasn't that difficult and it would have confused her more than she cared to admit. The plan would have fallen down sharply if she hadn’t been able to locate the command vessel.

  She swung the LinkShip around and gunned the drives, heading right towards the enemy flagship. It was an immense superdreadnaught, five kilometres long, yet there was nothing to separate it from the other superdreadnaughts. The Tokomak seemed to have settled on a design, then followed it slavishly. She would never have known the superdreadnaught was the flagship if her sensors hadn’t picked out the flow of commands into the enemy datanet.