by Britt Ringel
Anelace’s last chance at salvation came from her powerful electronic countermeasures. ECM Suite Delta was a program designed to use brute force to confuse and blind incoming missiles with so many phantom targets that the missile’s guidance system would suffer a silicon mental breakdown trying to sort out the hundreds of illusionary targets from the real one. There were more artfully crafted ECM programs and ones that were certainly more sophisticated but for fighting Interceptor-B guidance packages, Suite Delta was projected to be the most effective.
However, vampire Charlie was not fooled and flew under Anelace’s keel, detonating four hundred meters below her between her twelfth and thirteenth structural frames. The shock wave slammed into the regenerating AIPS shield, which had cooled sufficiently and had spent the last two seconds rebuilding the protective screen around Anelace. Although at only twenty-two percent of full strength, the shield deflected some of the shock wave around Anelace before cutting off once again to avoid burnout. The remaining force pounded the bottom sections of the corvette’s stern. The heavily armored bay doors crumpled like foil under the assault, driving shards of twisted metal into the shuttle bay, through the Class-F shuttle borrowed from Renard and into the bay’s ceiling. However, the interior of the hanger, also heavily reinforced to withstand a catastrophic shuttle disaster, absorbed the shrapnel without compromising the structural integrity of the compartments directly overhead on Anelace’s lower deck: a training simulator room, a briefing room and part of Engineering.
All three of Anelace’s lower drives rocked as the missile’s shock wave rolled over them. The outer drives weathered the explosive force well. Although shaken severely, their mounts absorbed the massive quake and prevented serious damage to the internals of the engines and their connections with the main hull. Ironically, it was the best protected, center drive that fared far worse. Even though it was connected not only to the lower engine wing mount but also directly to the bottom of Anelace’s hull, sixty-two of her eighty-five mounting bolts sheared under the force of the explosion. The entire nine-and-a-half meter engine pitched upward sixteen centimeters, severing every electronic connection between it and the main hull. The myriad of power networks feeding the engine ruptured and the actual drive in the mount warped under the incredible stresses caused by its movement. Sensors inside the drive lost their connection with the engineering compartment and immediately triggered a shutdown to the fatally damaged drive. In Engineering, monitoring programs signaled an interruption in the power feeds and Anelace’s engineers safely flushed the power lines to the drive.
The entire ship felt the jolt of vampire Charlie’s accomplishments. On the bridge, Heskan would have been lifted off his shockseat if not for the braces keeping him in place. He immediately understood that one of the missiles must have exploded very close to the ship. How bad is the damage, he asked himself though unsure if he wanted the answer.
Before looking over to Chief Brown, Heskan looked up at the tactical plot to see what disaster was unfolding next. Vampires Echo and Foxtrot are due in twenty-three seconds. Please let us have finished our roll before then. Looking to the chief, he saw Brown already talking swiftly into his helmet’s microphone and decided not to bother him.
Heskan returned his attention to the optical of Ketch-Two while he waited for Chief Brown to gather information. The pirate ship was battered and drifting in her debris field; most of her bow had been destroyed and he could see power to her remaining flickering drive was intermittent. During Heskan’s inspection of the stricken ketch, the third mass driver round flashed by it faster than the human eye could detect, missing cleanly.
Anelace was now decelerating. She had quickly reached her maximum speed of .33c during her initial charge but with Heskan’s order to come about and retreat back to the relative safety of the Beta Field, she valiantly fought inertia. Already, her velocity had reduced to .23c. In twenty seconds, she would be briefly at relative rest before achieving forward motion, steadily climbing back to her maximum speed and pushing hard for the asteroid field, 91ls away.
Sixty-seven light-seconds in the opposite direction, Blackheart released her seventh pair of missiles at the little corvette. The captain had yet to see how the recently fought battle between Cutthroat and Anelace had played out but he assumed things did not go well for his consort. The saving grace was that through a fluke of happenstance, his first and second missile salvos would arrive immediately before and after their skirmish. With any luck, the crew of the corvette had become overloaded and allowed his missiles to hit. He had seriously considered holding his fire on the seventh salvo but decided it was better to potentially waste two missiles than have the unthinkable occur and see a still operational corvette when the light from its firing pass with Cutthroat reached him. After all, he thought, she’ll be coming for me next.
Chapter 17
“Capt’n, my preliminary damage report’s ready,” Chief Brown said as he faced Heskan. “Drive Six has been knocked out of action. Engineerin’ says it’s completely dead an’ they don’t have a repair estimate. Drives Four an’ Five are functionin’ but both are actin’ funny. The L-T says they’re vibratin’ somethin’ fierce an’ he has to keep droppin’ the power exchange to below seventy percent to settle them down before he can push it back up to maximum. He also said that while Drive One ain’t vibratin’ the temperatures are climbin’ an’ he either has to cut the power or it’ll fail completely in a couple of minutes.” The chief rubbed the bridge of his nose as he continued, “Oh, the shuttle hanger’s been destroyed. One of the shuttle approach camera feeds is still workin’ an’ I panned around while talkin’ to Engineerin’. The hanger is all messed up but I doubt you were plannin’ on takin’ a shuttle ride anytime soon anyway, sir.”
Heskan looked at Riedel. “Helluva missile hit. How do you think it got Drive One?”
Riedel shook his head. “No idea but shock waves can do some funny things. We’re going to need those engines.”
Heskan nodded in agreement. “Contact Brandon, tell him to do whatever is necessary to get the ship up to .3c. Burn out Drive One if he has to because we’ve got to reduce the closure speed of those missiles and keep them in our point defense envelope longer to give our guys a chance.” Heskan checked the plot. Ana has slowed to point zero-two-C. At least we’re not moving toward those missiles any longer. The third pair of missiles was getting close and he instinctively tightened his grip on the arms of his command chair as he watched them come in.
Since the near miss, Gunner’s Mate Jamison’s confidence had been shaken. When his and Parker’s turret had been masked from vampire Charlie, he had felt the jolt of the hit just seconds afterwards. Even though he knew it was not his fault, he could not help but feel like he had failed. His mind raced over how many people could be dead and what condition the ship might be in because he had come up four seconds short. Trying to put his feelings aside, he worked on locking on to vampire Echo. He saw Echo’s partner, Foxtrot, disappear in hellish fire from one of the starboard laser turrets. His finger stabbed the command-accept-execute button on his console and his pulse laser issued a burst that reached out for the missile. His heart skipped a beat as the shot missed. Parker’s shot followed his own a fraction of a second later but also missed the mark and Jamison’s left knee began to shake nervously as he waited for his Lyle to cool and recycle. Doubting he would get a third shot, Jamison ensured a hard targeting lock on the missile before firing the second time. Parker’s second shot seemed rushed and again missed. Jamison exhaled as he fired but his heart sank as the missile continued its suicide run toward Anelace. Panicked now, Jamison shouted at his laser to quickly recharge. His finger was still poised over the console button, waiting, when the missile exploded only two hundred meters from his turret.
The missile fragments and shock wave slammed against the fully rebuilt AIPS screen, which protected most parts of the ship from Echo’s onslaught. However, near the portside turret compartments where the force was greatest,
fragments and the blast wave battered down the screen and hammered Anelace. The tremendous force punched both portside Lyle turrets into the ship as Anelace’s hull caved inward under the blast. Her hull breached, the turret control compartments vented their atmospheres immediately although Jamison and Parker were spared asphyxiation as Anelace’s hull and laser turrets had crushed them in their collapse.
Damage Control Station One, the adjacent compartment to Parker’s turret control room, suffered similarly. Able Spaceman Getney watched in horror as his room’s port exterior wall warped before ripping open. He had been sitting in his shockseat as required during combat operations but had failed to activate the restraint braces, contrary to regulations. Many damage control crews disliked the restrictive braces because they slowed their reaction time in reaching a damaged station. Getney was blown from his seat toward the breach. The loss of pressure caused his lungs to expel his breath and as he tumbled toward the hull fracture, he desperately tried to close his helmet’s visor. As he fell through the hull’s fissure, his left leg smashed against the jagged opening, breaking his femur. Disoriented and in shock, Getney’s attempts to close his visor failed.
In the AIPS control compartment, Petty Officer Deveraux was battered so hard within his shockseat he was stunned. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision, he saw the strobing warning lights indicating a compartment breach. Although confused why the alarm claxons had not sounded, it occurred to him to lower his visor to secure his shocksuit. The noise that had come from the compartments ahead of him had been raucous and the door leading to Getney’s DC-One was now knocked askew with a visible, active containment field between that compartment and his own. Looking around from his seat, he noticed a one-meter tear in his room’s outer wall and what he thought was empty space past it. Still dazed, he realized he should report this to Harry Getney in the next room. As he began to unlock his seat’s braces, he noticed his console blinking furiously at him. The bridge was sending him a text request for an immediate status report. Unsure why they had not just called down and asked for it, he pressed his communications button and began to speak but could not hear his own voice. Without thought, his hand reached up to hold his nose as he attempted to “pop” his ears but was stopped by his helmet’s visor. He began to talk again yet still could not hear himself. Finally, the understanding that he had been deafened by the blast hit him. Lucidity growing, Deveraux immediately began typing a message to the bridge via his console while he marveled that in his state of shock, he had actually almost left his station in the middle of combat and tried to enter an obviously decompressed DC-One.
Blackheart’s missileer once again stated the next missile salvo was ready to fire. The captain was busy cursing his decision to place his escort ketches 20ls from the flagship even though at the time, it had seemed the right thing to do. After all, the limited weapon range of the ketches dictated that they be positioned so they could engage the corvette while it was still too far away to attack Blackheart. However, this would be his eighth volley launched at the little corvette, which most likely was already destroyed. How would he justify to the council the wasting of precious Interceptor-Bs on a dead target? Grumbling, he issued the command to fire and then gave the order to hold additional fire until the tactical situation became clearer. The missiles shot forth from Blackheart and then sped toward their three sister volleys ahead of them and their target, 70ls away.
The distance between Anelace and Blackheart was increasing now. Although laboring with only five Allison drives, Anelace had clawed her way past .23c as she sailed for the Beta Field. The vibrations from the lower drives shook the stern of the ship and Lieutenant Jackamore could feel it through the entire engineering compartment. Though he scolded himself for thinking in such terms, the latest missile hit had mercifully been further forward and his engines and power plant had not been affected. He feared that the damage already done to Anelace’s drive systems would place her in a fleet repair dock for several months. His recent conversation with Lieutenant Riedel had not been a pleasant one.
On the bridge, Heskan waited in mute frustration for information on the second missile hit. It wasn’t a hit, he reflected, a hit would have knocked us around much harder or simply destroyed us. I’ll enter it as a near miss in the after-action report. The preposterous thought that one benefit of being destroyed in the battle would be he would not have to worry about the paperwork afterwards entered his mind but he recognized that his gallows humor was just his psyche preparing itself for the inevitable casualty report coming any moment now.
“Capt’n.” The voice of Chief Brown made Heskan’s stomach tighten as he braced himself for the report. “DC One an’ both port laser turrets are out of action. I’m not gettin’ a response from anyone in those compartments. All three compartments have depressurized an’ remain open to space.”
Lieutenant Vernay cringed visibly as Chief Brown continued, “I’ve got limited communications with the AIPS control room right now. The AIPS screen is regeneratin’ an’ the compartment is now air tight with workin’ containment fields. I’m sendin’ Spaceman Alvarez from DC Three for a better look but I’m startin’ to run low on manpower.”
“Do what you can, Chief, every section is being pressed thin. Mike, can Engineering spare anyone?”
Riedel shook his head. “I doubt it, sir. They already have people working in Operations since Orphan killed our boarding party and with our drives acting flaky...” He shrugged before speaking into his shocksuit’s microphone briefly. After a moment, he said, “Sir, Jackamore says Ana has hit point three light but he’s burning out Drive One to do it. The other drives can maintain structural integrity at point three light for a little while even after One goes but Ana’s top speed after this run will only be around point two-five-C. He also said he’s bound by regulations to recommend cutting power to the lower drives, Four and Five, because of their vibrations.”
“I hope you told him no, Mike.”
The first officer snorted. “I told him he’d have to get out and push if he shuts them down.”
Heskan’s eyes returned to the tactical plot. Anelace predicted the next volley from the schooner would be launched in three seconds. The long line of missiles headed for Anelace ranged from just 10ls away out to 63ls away. It had been forty seconds since the corvette had taken the second near miss and the closest missiles were still a full minute and twenty-three seconds away from impact. He had hated running back toward the Beta Field but the resultant change in the closure rate of the missiles had probably kept them alive the last forty seconds. Further, the loss of the portside GPs now made the withdrawal even more necessary as Anelace’s point defenses were cut in half by the single, decisive blow. If we’d still been charging the schooner, the next volley would have already intercepted us and just when Vernay needs the time to reorganize her point defense tactics. He looked over to the weapons station and saw Vernay furiously typing at her console while talking into the mic of her shocksuit helmet.
The presumed deaths of Jamison and Parker were more devastating blows to Vernay. Half of her people were gone. Half! When Brown had complained to the captain that his section was “startin’ to run low,” she had wanted to stop the battle and run across the bridge to pummel him. Despite trying desperately to stay ahead of Anelace’s rapidly deteriorating point defense situation, she still could not help but do the distracting math. Four out of eight of her section’s crewmembers were probably dead. Assuming Bonner was uninjured and there were no further casualties, her next section meeting would include only herself, two petty officers and two spacemen. Moreover, how many others had died on Anelace because of her failures? How many more would as well? She found herself almost wishing for a bridge hit to end this nightmare. Before the engagement, she had naively thought she had honed her crew into the best weapons team on any system defense ship in the Brevic Navy. Her face now flushed red with rage and embarrassment as she thought back to the times she had sat in this very chair an
d actually fantasized about the pride she would feel as she and her section performed flawlessly in a battle. But she saw things clearly now; she understood. Both teams played to win and sheer luck could trump either side’s skill or training. The masking of the port lasers at exactly the wrong time had not been anyone’s fault. The track of the missiles, Anelace’s course change and the angle she had first rolled to engage the missiles had created the perfect combination of events to shield half of her defenses during that critical four-second window. Nonetheless, Vernay knew she would play out those four seconds endlessly for the rest of her life, whether it was as a young lieutenant killed in action during her first engagement or as an admiral thirty years from now.
“Dammit!” Blackheart’s captain thundered. The light from the firing pass between Anelace and Cutthroat had finally spanned the 81ls gap between them. He had scored two missile hits but the corvette was still under power and in the fight. He nearly issued the command to resume firing when he saw the time lagged image of Anelace turning away from him and powering back toward the Beta Field. He trembled in rage as he saw the stricken ship still able to push itself to .3c and growled as his missileer informed him that any missile launched now would take eleven minutes to reach Anelace, while the corvette herself would reach the massive disturbance zone of the Beta Field in just over four. Instead, he ordered Blackheart to come to rest in space and keep her broadside facing the vexing corvette. He then sent an order to Merciless, his last remaining escort ketch, to join up with him. Its vain pursuit of the faster corvette was doing nothing but moving her farther away from her flagship.
Vampires Golf and Hotel streaked into Anelace’s 5ls point defense range. The opening pulse laser shots from her starboard turrets both missed but with a pitiful closure rate of only .12c, each missile reduced the range to Anelace by a mere .3ls during the turret’s two second recycle time. A brief flash of light heralded the incineration of vampire Golf by the next burst of fire. The other missile lost its weapons lock in the crowd of phantom targets created by the corvette’s ECM and began to change its trajectory. Ten seconds later, the combined laser fire of both turrets finished it.