Test of Mettle (A Captain's Crucible Book 2)

by Isaac Hooke

  The moments ticked past.

  “ETA to flyby, Ensign?” the captain asked.

  “Ten minutes,” Lewis answered.

  “Miko, launch Avengers fleet wide. Assume escort positions.”

  On the tactical display, blue dots appeared around the Callaway, Aurelia, Salvador, and Dagger. The Maelstrom, as a frigate, didn’t carry a fighter complement. Nor did the Grimm and Marley, of course.

  Black Squadron and Blue Squadron moved away from the Callaway to protect the Grimm and Marley respectively. Yellow Squadron from the Salvador broke away to escort the Maelstrom. The respective vessels braked very slightly to allow the fighters to maneuver into place, then the fleet resumed its seventy percent forward speed, the maximum the fighters were able to match.

  With the Avengers in position, all Jonathan could do was wait.

  “ETA five minutes,” Ensign Lewis eventually announced. “The enemy has completed its full stop, and is now accelerating in the direction of our forward motion. They’re moving inward, too. Attempting to close the gap.”

  “Helm,” Jonathan said. “Compensate to ensure we remain at a distance of twenty-five thousand kilometers to the closest vessel during flyby.”

  “Compensating,” the helmsman said.

  “They’re launching fighters,” Ensign Lewis announced.

  Jonathan nodded slowly. That was the best time to launch fighters, because it allowed the smaller crafts to skip paying a duplicate Delta V cost.

  He watched the smaller red dots appear and then break away from the enemy units.

  “Should I compensate for the approaching fighters?” the helmsman asked.

  “Negative,” Jonathan said. “Keep us within twenty-five thousand kilometers of the closest vessel.”

  “ETA three minutes to flyby,” Lewis announced.

  On the display, Jonathan saw that the enemy had assumed a defensive “dome” formation, with the capital ship at its center and the other six placed in a circle behind it, facing the human fleet. The distances between them ranged from a hundred kilometers to three hundred. The closest vessel was T300, readily identifiable by the repair patterns on her hull.

  “They know we’re not going to fire on her,” Robert muttered.

  “No thanks to Barrick,” Jonathan said. “Miko, initiate Operation Co-Opted Lasso. Fire when ready.”

  A moment later the tactical officer announced: “Firing.”

  Jonathan watched the new dots appear on his tactical display as the Aurelia launched its five remaining kinetic kill missiles in successive waves. The fighters in turn fired a score of the smaller X90 missiles.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the task group lobbed mortars directly into the path of the alien unit, which would force the enemy to make micro course changes. The kinetic kill missiles couldn’t be avoided, however, and the enemy would have to fire their particle beams as point defenses to take them down, assuming they hadn’t kept any fighters in reserve to do that for them—the fighters had lasers that could readily shoot them down.

  The detonated missiles would leave behind debris, which would also have to be avoided, becoming part of the “mortar noose” that herded the enemy ships toward the remaining missiles. Since the alien particle beams required two minutes of downtime between shots, if timed correctly, missiles in some of the successive waves would get through.

  “Alien fighters are closing,” Ensign Lewis said. “It looks like they plan to pass through our missile barrage on the way.”

  Jonathan crossed his arms and lifted a fist to his chin. That wasn’t what he wanted.

  “How long to flyby?” Jonathan asked.

  “One minute,” the ensign replied.

  twenty-nine

  Miko,” Jonathan said. “Have the fleet target the nose of the next closest dart ship beyond T300... T4, it looks like. I want every Viper aimed within a few millimeters of the same spot. Let’s see if we can take out her particle beam during the flyby.”

  “Targeting,” Miko replied.

  “Fighters are passing through our missile and mortar waves,” Lewis said.

  The view from the external camera flashed multiple times.

  “Detecting multiple missile detonations,” Lewis said. “The enemy fighters are using their lasers on them.”

  Jonathan watched dots representing the missiles wink out from the display.

  “The missiles are through,” Lewis said.

  Jonathan exhaled nervously. They still had half their missiles.

  “The first wave of the missile and mortar barrage is approaching the enemy task unit,” the ensign continued.

  More flashes appeared on the display. “Three particle beams fired. The respective dart ships are micro-correcting their courses.”

  “That’s right,” Jonathan said, quietly taunting the enemy. “You’ll have to choose between targeting our missiles, and targeting our ships. What’s more important to you?”

  “The capital ship is pulling away, along with two escorts,” Lewis said. A moment later: “Detecting an EMP from the capital ship... it managed to knock one of our missiles out of action. The capital ship is adjusting course to avoid hitting it.”

  “Damn it,” Jonathan said.

  “I’m detecting other EMPs from the smaller dart ships,” Lewis said. “But they are having no effect on our missiles.”

  A flash filled the viewscreen.

  “What happened?” Jonathan asked.

  “A missile just struck one of the dart ships. I’m reading major damage. Looks like it’s disabled.”

  More flashes.

  “Two other dart ships have taken hits,” the ensign said. “Again, major damage. These two and the previous ship are the same ones that wasted their particle beams on the first missile wave.”

  “We’re at the closest point of flyby,” Miko announced.

  “Fire Viper broadsides fleet-wide at T4,” the captain said.

  At the twenty-five thousand kilometer range, the spot area would be thirty five centimeters squared on the target, and the megajoule intensity roughly forty times less than at five thousand kilometers. By targeting the same spot on the enemy hull, their combined firepower would compensate somewhat for the loss in intensity, imparting enough energy to hopefully burn a hole through the unshielded particle beam generator.

  There was another flash and the view from the forward external camera went black.

  “What happened?” Jonathan asked. He switched to another forward camera.

  “It appears the capital ship and its two escorts combined their particle beams to strike at us,” Ensign Lewis said. “They ignored the Dagger, Captain. We took the hit.”

  “Damage?”

  “They tore a wound into the entire length of our port side. We have dozens of breaches. We’ve lost launch bay three, and reactor one is offline again. Mess hall two is destroyed. One hundred three crew members reported missing.”

  Jonathan rubbed his forehead. “Any damage to other vessels in the fleet?”

  “Negative.”

  In several hours the repair swarm would have the Whittle layer replaced—the thin segment of reinforced metal elevated a meter above the hull that absorbed damage from micrometeors. The actual hull breaches would take at least a week of 3D printing to repair, given the number of breaches. And nothing could replace the lost lives, of course.

  “One hundred three crew reported missing,” Jonathan said, shaking his head. He banished the guilt. He had to fight on. “Lewis, without reactor one, can we maintain seventy percent speed?”

  “We can, but barely,” Lewis answered. “If we try to go any faster, you’ll likely get a call from Lieutenant Commander Stanley complaining about his engines.”

  Another flash.

  “One of our last missiles struck a glancing blow against the trailing dart ship, T7,” Lewis said. “Heat radiation is leaking from the wing, but otherwise it appears to be still in the battle.”

  The bridge began to shudder.

  “Enemy
fighters have reached the Callaway,” Miko announced. “Avengers are engaging.”

  “What about T4?” Jonathan said. “Did our broadside have any effect?”

  Lewis remained quiet for several moments. “I zoomed in as best I could on their nose from this angle. Yes, I believe their particle beam is offline.”

  “And T300?”

  “She’s intact,” Lewis said.

  Jonathan tapped his lips. “So four ships down or disabled, and three to go.”

  “Plus thirty more a day and a half behind,” Robert reminded him. “Not to mention a shitload of fighters harassing us in the here and now.”

  “Ops, how are our upgraded point defenses handling the attack?” Jonathan asked.

  “Point defenses have taken down two so far,” Lewis said. “The Avengers have driven the others away for the moment.”

  “Miko, remind Albright not to move them too far away,” Jonathan said. “We can’t turn back for anyone, remember.”

  “On it,” Miko said.

  “Ops, how long until the three remaining vessels reach the thirty thousand kilometer mark behind us?” Jonathan asked.

  “About two minutes,” the ensign answered.

  Jonathan waited a few moments longer.

  “Miko,” the captain said. “I believe now is the time to launch the Trojan.”

  “Launching Trojan,” the tactical officer replied.

  A new blue dot appeared on the display. Harv had utilized the 3D printers to modify an Avenger, making it appear identical to an enemy fighter, down to the thermal and gravimetric properties. The engineering teams had gutted the unmanned Avenger in question, replacing the weapons systems with the sole warhead from the Aurelia, essentially converting the Avenger into a disguised smart nuke.

  He remembered the conversation he’d had with the chief weapons engineer regarding the project.

  “Can you actually mask the signature of the bomb?” Jonathan asked the lieutenant. “We have evidence they were able to detect the planet killer, remember. Despite all that radiation shielding.”

  “I think I can,” Harv replied. “I believe they are relying on gravimetric distortions to identify our weapons. With the help of the AI I’ve identified areas where extra mass needs to be placed in order to compensate for the effect. Plus I’m adding external thermo-radiation sources... with luck, they won’t notice any difference from one of their own fighters, and it’ll slip right past their defenses.”

  The plan was to let the Trojan drift in space, as if damaged, and when the target came within range, the AI would power on and fly into it.

  Jonathan had employed a similar smart nuke strategy in a previous engagement, except in that case the nukes had been loaded into ordinary Avengers protected by fighter wings. The aliens were likely wise to that strategy, hence the need for a new deception.

  As the Trojan was expendable, Jonathan had elected not to install a costly charged field generator to protect it from the enemy particle beams. Those charged fields were made from reactor replacement parts, and were currently all in use aboard the manned Avengers. The Trojan would have to rely on its deceptive signatures to get close to the enemy.

  “I’m detecting a concentrated gamma ray burst from the enemy fleet,” Lewis said. “It’s aimed at the hull breach in mess hall two. It looks like they’re trying to flood the nearby decks with radiation.”

  “Maxwell, evacuate any service personnel from the surrounding areas and have them report to sick bay.”

  “Evacuating twenty-four personnel,” Maxwell said.

  “And helm, get that section turned away from the enemy!”

  “Rotating our nose...” the helmsman replied.

  The helm would have to take into account the current rotation of the nose when making any future course corrections, but that was why starships were equipped with complex assistive AIs like Maxwell.

  “Enemy capital ship is approaching the Trojan,” Lewis said. “The disguised Avenger is two hundred kilometers away, thirty degrees inclination. It’s powering on.”

  Jonathan watched the blue dot representing the Trojan begin to accelerate, so that it would be moving in the same direction as the capital ship when it passed.

  “One hundred kilometers,” Miko said. “Still no reaction from the enemy. They appear to be falling for the ruse.”

  “Fifty kilometers.”

  A few moments later a bright white flash filled the rear view screen on the captain’s tactical display.

  “What happened?” Jonathan said. But he already knew, because not only had the blue dot winked out but so had the red one that indicated the capital ship.

  “Enemy capital ship has been destroyed,” Lewis said. The relief was evident in her voice.

  “And the fighters harassing us?” Jonathan asked.

  “They’re still operational, unlike the last time we destroyed a capital ship. Control must have transferred immediately to one of the trailing dart ships, perhaps T300.” She paused. “The fighters are pulling away. As are the three remaining dart ships, including T300 and the weaponless T4.”

  Jonathan nodded. “So we won the first engagement.” At the cost of a hundred and three lives. “Recall Avengers. Proceed with the mounting plan.”

  He watched as the Avengers attempted to return to their assigned ships. When it became obvious that several of the crafts had strayed too far and weren’t going to be able to catch up, Jonathan said:

  “Helm, drop our speed down to sixty percent,” Jonathan said. “Miko, instruct the task group to follow our lead.”

  The Avengers finally reached the fleet and the blue dots began to affix themselves to their various assigned vessels: the fighters used grappling hooks in a delicate operation to land on the hulls. Once in place, they would activate their magnetic mounts to secure themselves to the ships in question. It was the second best thing to actually docking, and it allowed the fighters to act as secondary weapon mounts, able to fire their remaining X90s as kinetic kills at the pursuers.

  When the fighters had all mounted, Jonathan said: “Increase speed to seventy percent fleet-wide. Ops, status on the surviving enemy vessels?”

  “The three ships are continuing to slow,” Lewis said. “It looks like they’re going to wait until the reinforcements arrive before they take up the pursuit once more.”

  “A wise move, on their part,” Jonathan said.

  “And this is interesting,” Lewis added. “It appears they’re forcing the returning fighters to halt several hundred kilometers away. If I were a betting woman, I’d guess they were performing detailed inspections of each fighter before allowing the crafts to rejoin them.”

  The captain nodded. “Also wise.” The enemy couldn’t know whether he’d deployed another Trojan in their midst. Even though he hadn’t, he was happy to sow confusion and distrust among their ranks.

  He switched to the forward external camera on his aReal and stared at the two bright beacons that beckoned in the void far ahead, one red, one blue, so close together that they almost appeared one object at that range.

  He was the one who had suggested the next phase of the plan, and Miko and Maxwell had taken his idea and come up with something workable. Still, the margin for error was so very slim. He wondered vaguely if the Callaway’s hull integrity had been compromised because of the breaches, and that thought dictated his next orders.

  “Maxwell,” the captain said. “I want the structural engineers to assist the swarm with the repairs. Get them suited up, and draft every available hand to assist them. We need the most structurally relevant breaches repaired, and the hull reinforced in those areas, ASAP.”

  “Yes, Captain,” the AI responded.

  “Can we do it in time?” Jonathan asked the machine.

  “Given the damage,” Maxwell said. “If the team is able to enlist the aid of two hundred people, I believe so.”

  “What if I could arrange four hundred people?” Jonathan said.

  “Same amount of time,�
� the AI responded. “Possibly less. Adding more people to the problem will only cause them to get in each other’s way.”

  “Two hundred it is,” Jonathan said.

  He just hoped it was enough.

  thirty

  Jonathan invited Robert to his office a short while later.

  The captain rubbed one eye as the commander sat before him. “That was... rough.”

  “To put it mildly,” Robert agreed. “We were lucky.”

  “Were we?” Jonathan made a fist and rested his chin on his palm. “I’d prefer to call it controlled luck. Have you heard the saying: playing to win, rather than playing not to lose?”

  The commander arched an eyebrow. “A poker maxim?”

  “It applies to many things,” Jonathan countered. “Not just poker.”

  “So you believe a space battle is little more than a poker game,” Robert stated.

  “That’s precisely what it is,” the captain said. “We base our judgments on the limited amount of information available to us, make our best guess regarding our opponents’ hands, and then we place our bets.”

  “Too bad no one plays poker anymore,” Robert said.

  “Maybe more people should,” Jonathan countered. “What do you think, Maxwell?”

  “The commander is right,” the AI returned. “Poker is perhaps not the best analogy. I would say that a space battle is closer to a game of three dimensional chess.”

  Jonathan felt slightly amused. “Have you even played three dimensional chess, Maxwell?”

  “It is one of the most frequently requested games by members of the crew who seek an AI opponent,” Maxwell answered.

  “Indeed.” Jonathan sat back. “I didn’t know that. Well, in that case, you can appreciate the fact there are too many knowns in chess. Unless you’re a complete beginner, you know the abilities of your every piece, and your opponents every piece. Those abilities are perfectly matched. And you know their overall objective is to place your king into check.