Strike Battleship Argent (The Ithis Campaign Book 1)

by Shane Black

  Hunter sat in the center chair and finished up the report, looking for anything unusual enough to change his plans. Satisfied he knew what he needed to know for now, he stowed the tablet and sighed, examining the tactical track displayed on the Argent’s main screen for any new information.

  “We’re here, they’re there. Nothing has changed in the last ten minutes?”

  “Negative, sir,” Pilot McInerney replied. “Although Nemesis Eight reports there are readings indicating another spotter ship has apparently relieved Kilo X-Ray Two while they recover their boats.”

  “But we were right,” Doverly interrupted. “That Sentinel gun on Barker’s Asteroid took a shot at us. It was only one shot, but it was enough to almost collapse our starboard point battle screen. We’re working on the theory they don’t have a full power structure down there yet, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that’s what they’re buying time for. Once that thing is fully operational it can lob rounds at us for days before we can fight our way through that minefield to stop it.”

  Hunter swiveled in his chair. “Tell me if I’m wrong, doctor, but can’t a Nemesis and a couple of Paladins lash up and work as a minesweeper?”

  Annora took her headset off and placed it back on the console. “It wouldn’t be the first time that’s been tried with a battleship squadron, but it’s dangerous. If a skirmisher suddenly pops up in that field with the transponder matrix, they can run and gun the mine team to pieces before they get out of the hot zone.”

  “I bet Zony could beat that strategy,” Hunter replied. “Just having the friendly transponders for the minefield doesn’t give them total protection from a false positive.”

  “Agreed, but you’re not reckless enough to fly your Signals Officer into that junkyard, Captain. It sounds like a great way to pull off an epic riposte, but one thing goes wrong and your plan literally goes up like a breached fusion bottle.”

  Hunter frowned at the tactical display. “Alright, what if we brute force it? Three waves of proximity warheads, maximum spreads. Blow the whole thing to slag?”

  “The minute we open up, that fleet will walk over here and button us up like an overstarched dry cleaning order.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, why haven’t they done that yet?” McInerney asked from the helm. “What are they waiting for?”

  “No reason to risk the hardware yet,” Hunter replied. “The longer this standoff continues, the more time they have to energize that gun. Once they have that, they’ve got a nearly impregnable interdiction zone. Anything that tries to breach the minefield gets carved up by the Sentinel. Everything on the Raleo side of the gun becomes their base of operations. They can launch strikes against every Core system within a light year and always have a safe place to run if things get hairy.”

  “They’ll hit the jump gate first,” Annora added. “Once that’s secured, they’ve got every tactical advantage and a way to close up everything coming to stop them.”

  “Why can’t we just go around, sir?” Lieutenant Rollins piped up. Can’t we just drop the Z-axis and fly under it?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant. Every young Skywatch officer comes up with the same genius plan at some point in their career,” Annora replied with a smile.

  “But all those plans presume your enemy will continue to operate in two dimensions while you operate in three. It sounds good in a classroom, but in practice, by the time you realize your brilliant plan nobody else ever thought of didn’t work, you’re floating home,” Hunter concluded, looking over at Rollins with a reassuring expression. “That gun can fire in any direction we can fly, and we can’t leave it here for the next ship to discover suddenly. The challenge here is getting to Barker’s Asteroid without tipping off the fleet we’re sweeping out their mines and without putting our sweepers at risk of being picked off by skirmishers.”

  “That’s the puzzle, alright,” Annora replied. “And the clock is ticking on that Sentinel.”

  “Sir, we’re being hailed by Nemesis Eight,” the acting Signals Officer reported.

  “Put them on speakers.” The channel clicked over. “Argent, Hunter here.”

  “Sir, we have a reactor signature pattern match on the new contact near the location of Kilo X-Ray Two designated Mockingbird Eight Zero. You left standing orders to report on any registry matches.”

  “What’s she look like?”

  “It’s the Dunkerque sir.”

  Hunter raised his eyebrows. “The Admiral’s ship? How certain are you?”

  “Five decimal places. She’s running a first-generation fusion/fission combination power design with the old gas-operated valves. Makes more spectrometry noise than a busted chainsaw.”

  Hunter turned to Annora with a wide-eyed look of discovery, astonishment and certainty on his face.

  “What.”

  “You know what that ship has that we don’t?” Hunter asked with a sly grin.

  Annora realized it moments later.

  “A mine-friendly transponder.”

  Hunter pointed at the Doctor and made a fist. “Rollins, you have the conn. Doctor, you’re with me.” The Captain and XO strode off the bridge.

  “Where to?”

  “Sickbay. Zony is about to win this war and we’re going to do it while eating a sandwich.”

  Twenty-Nine

  “Exeter to landing party, come in.”

  The bridge crew of the heaviest destroyer in the Perseus Task Force formation looked at each other with stark eyes as they waited for a response. Their signals officer keyed the intership again.

  “Exeter to landing party. Commander Hunter, come in please.”

  “They’re not answering. Something’s wrong. First we got that fleetwide from Echo, and then nothing,” Lieutenant Hawkins urged. “We need to raise the Fury and investigate.”

  “What we need to do, Lieutenant, is follow protocol. Force Command has us at Emergency Condition Three, which puts Fury’s Skipper in charge of any further action. Our job is to wait for orders,” Third Officer Pierce replied. “If we start going off on our own all that’s going to do is make us start bumping in to one another and cause confusion.”

  “Echo reported intruders!”

  “That robot would sound general quarters if a small dog walked into the mess hall and stole a piece of bacon,” Petty Officer Grant replied, causing a couple members of the bridge crew to crack smiles. “It probably saw someone sweeping up and thought they were trying to take over the quadrant.”

  “You’re hilarious, Petty Officer. Check your regs. Perseus has Echo authorized to issue alerts by order of the Commander herself.”

  “But Echo didn’t issue an alert, Lieutenant,” Pierce replied with a sigh. “It reported intruders to the landing party, which is probably trying to figure out if we’re about to send half a million tons of starships after two guys and a mop.”

  “Then why doesn’t the landing party answer?”

  “The Skipper is probably getting ready to board us and deliver a swift kick to somebody’s backside for chatter on the emergency channel. The only officer authorized to speak for Task Force Perseus right now is the Force Commander on the bridge of DSS Fury. Our job is to keep our mouths shut and stop dreaming up phantom threats so when the time does come, we’ll be ready.”

  “Sir–”

  “That will be all, Lieutenant.” The look on Pierce’s face told Hawkins the matter was closed as far as the bridge crew was concerned.

  “Aye, sir,” she said as professionally as she could before turning and stalking off the bridge.

  The Exeter was officially designated a “War Destroyer.” She was a Thunderbird-class hull with heavier armor, short-range weaponry and, most importantly, most of the Task Force’s marine strength in the form of a full company of shock troops. The Exeter was the only ship under Hunter’s flag capable of launching additional warships into action. She had a small but capable flight deck with four tough little assault transports on a rotating 30 minute alert.

&
nbsp; The reality of the situation in Skywatch was that fleet followed the book, almost to a fault. Pierce couldn’t be blamed for following orders, but there were times when a leader needed to go with intuition instead of waiting for signatures from three flag officers and a legislative resolution. Hawkins believed this was one of those times. She knew most of the Perseus crews tolerated Echo and Jayce’s robot hobby to a point, but she also knew they didn’t ascribe much credibility to the excitable little vehicles and their child-like personalities.

  Then again, there were only a handful of people in the Task Force who had ever seen Hunter’s bots in any kind of real action. Hawkins was one of them, and she knew there was another currently supervising deployment drills with First Marines on Deck Four.

  The other reality of the situation in Skywatch was while marines followed the book, they were far more likely to at least listen to alternatives. This was especially true if it meant getting the drop on a hidden enemy before they showed up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  As far as Lieutenant JG Brittany Hawkins was concerned, this was shaping up to be one of those times.

  Thirty

  “Rebel, I’m scared.”

  The mini-robot summit had convened on Deck Five, not far from where the small tank had broken off pursuit of the two intruders after a short chase.

  “We lost contact with Lieutenant Sutherland’s commlink transponder,” Butterfly added as she hovered overhead. “It must be broken.”

  “See? Butterfly thinks so too. We should go help,” Echo said. “We should get Wave and Lunar too, ‘cause they’re good at stuff like this. Commlinks can’t get broken unless something is wrong.”

  “Acey’s orders were to monitor the intership and go to alert condition four, and that’s what we did, so we did good,” Rebel said proudly. The nod at the end was implied.

  “Yeah, but we tried to call Acey and she didn’t call us back!” Echo exclaimed. “We should go see. Acey always calls us back. Even when we bother her in the middle of the night with stuff she still calls us back.”

  “Dudes and dudettes!” A miniature half-track vehicle rolled up and parked in front of Rebel and Echo. “Blessings to the brethren and awesomeness to all. Wave is here and the party can begin!”

  “Hi Wave! Hi Lunar!” Echo said cheerily. “I wish things were better.”

  “I think Echo is right. We should go find the bad guys and blast ‘em!” Lunar said. The rocket-shaped miniature spacecraft hovered overhead, facing Butterfly. His high-tech weapons and freshly painted hull gleamed.

  “Are you sure? We should be careful and be sure before we start blasting people. We should ask Acey first,” Butterfly replied. “What if we blast the wrong people?”

  “I’m the biggest robot and I get to say!” Rebel said with a tone of finality. The other robots waited while the tank thought it over.

  “And I say we go find the bad guys and blast ‘em!”

  “Righteous!” Wave said. If he had hands he would have high-fived the fat little tank. “Echo, let’s go!” The tiny half-track turned and backed up a couple of feet, lowering a ramp. Echo rolled aboard Wave’s vehicle bed and the little gate closed behind her. “Last one there has to build the fire for marshmallows!” Wave and Echo led the way.

  Butterfly extended her heavy-lift harness down and energized its magnetic assembly. It clamped against the sides of Rebel’s heavy armor jacket and bolted itself into place. She revved her little engines. Her rotors increased rotational speed and she picked the sturdy little tank up off the floor. Air transport was always preferable to the entire group waiting for Rebel’s relatively ponderous top ground speed of what Wave once described as “slower than January molasses.”

  “Echo, use all your little gizmos and be sure nobody is following us!” Lunar said as he floated forward and hovered into formation with Butterfly as her wing. “If you see a bad guy tell me who to zap!”

  “Okay!” the little ambulance replied as she activated her ground survey scanners and sophisticated radar.

  Acey’s bots rolled and flew in a compact little formation down the Deck Five corridor towards the records lab.

  Thirty-One

  “How many power-armored marines can we fit in a T-Hawk?”

  Lieutenant Colonel Moody looked up at Captain Hunter as if he had just asked about putting 12 men into a field goal formation.

  “Well, there’s room for a crew of five, sir, I–”

  “No, no. I want to pack ‘em in. Shoulder to shoulder, how many can we cram in there?”

  “Maybe ten or so. Why a T-Hawk? Why not a Paladin? The heavies have deployment tethers for ground troops.”

  “Because I want that cruiser to think we’re coming out there to shoot at them, not board them.”

  “You’re flying out there wide open? Sir, we can lash up a Nemesis and fly in cloaked!”

  “I don’t want to fly in cloaked, I want to fly in there with a gun pointed at their head. I want them to be worrying about whether to shoot us with Argent backing us up with her big guns. Before we get out there XO will go weapons active. By the time they get through their fight or flight hesitation, we’ll be tapping on the window.”

  “That’s an awfully big risk, Cap,” Moo replied.

  “Agreed, colonel. If it pays off, we’ll have that ship intact and under our command so fast they won’t know what hit them. I’d take a bigger force if I were up against a true enemy vessel, but Dunkerque is friendly. Yili can flip a few switches and have us in control in a matter of seconds if we give her the chance.”

  Doctor Doverly was busy reviving Zony. It seemed the sedatives had done their job. Despite the pouty Signals Officer’s protestations, she really had finally gotten some rest.

  “Zony, how are you feeling?”

  She looked groggy. “Wha– Doctor? Is everything okay?” Hunter joined Doverly next to Zony’s bed.

  “You look like hell, lieutenant,” he said. Zony smiled weakly.

  “Just give me a radio and a frequency, sir.”

  “That’s good to hear. We’re lifting off in 15 minutes.”

  “Where to, Skipper?”

  “The Dunkerque is out there, and I want her captured. Even if we can’t take the Admiral into custody, she’s got technology we need to defeat that minefield. I’m taking you, the colonel and Yili with me. We’re going to commandeer that vessel and drill a hole through that minefield so the Highlander Paladins can bomb the Sentinel emplacement.”

  “Are you sure we can do all that with one ship?”

  “I can’t, but you and Yili can. Moo and I will be there with a marine boarding party to handle any overzealous enemy defenders.”

  Hunter left the colonel and Zony to contemplate his plans and stepped into the corridor outside sickbay with Annora.

  “I’m leaving you in command of the Argent, XO.”

  “They’re in no better shape than you are, Jason.”

  “Understood, but we may only get one shot at this. Just tell me they’re patched up enough for an hour’s worth of action.”

  “If I pump them full of stimulants and pain killers, barely.”

  “It’ll have to do. Maintain CSP and position until we have the Dunkerque under our flag.”

  “Affirmative. We’ll mind the store.”

  “Anything more from Atwell and the belligerents from Deck 34?”

  “The intruders are still under from the knockout gas. Atwell has been reclining on a slab of dense plastiform in his cell since his apprehension. Hasn’t said a word.”

  “He knows what we need to know,” Hunter muttered. “He’s going to tell me why Admiral Hughes is involved in all this, and he’s going to tell me what’s aboard the Dunkerque before the launch.”

  “I admire your confidence, Captain, but he’s not talking.”

  “He doesn’t know we’re about to take over his precious ship, Doctor,” Hunter said as he stalked towards the brig. “In fact, for all he knows, we already took it. Notify Flight Thre
e I want two Wildcats and a T-Hawk prepped for launch, and I want ten of the nastiest from Dog Block armored, powered, locked and loaded in fifteen minutes.”

  “Acknowledged.” Doverly watched as Hunter descended the ladder to Deck Eight.

  Thirty-Two

  Another impact shook the records lab. Sparks showered and the backlit consoles flickered dangerously again. Commander Huggins ducked away as flashes of weapons fire strobed in the corridor outside. He was cradling a broken arm and holding an exhausted blaster pistol in his other hand.

  “Eight hostiles! Maybe ten!”

  Jayce Hunter worked madly to stabilize the Constellation’s Signals Analyst. He was unconscious and bleeding from two catastrophic shrapnel wounds. The standard medikit from the lab’s emergency supplies was useful, but Jayce knew if he didn’t get the attention of a trauma unit within the next 20 minutes, he wasn’t going to make it.

  Tom lunged into the hall and sprayed rapid-fire plasma bolts in the general direction of their attackers. A secondary explosion caused the floor to lurch, and a wave of acrid smoke drifted back into the lab. The Fury’s XO took the opportunity to drag one of the unconscious marine guards back into the lab to safety.

  Lieutenant Sutherland was barely conscious. Her uniform had enormous chemical burns along one side. The advanced fabric narrowly saved her skin from being incinerated in the blast.

  “We were pretty lucky, eh, ma’am?”

  Hunter continued working furiously. “Only because this room is packed with gear and consoles, Lieutenant. If that center unit hadn’t been here, we’d all be strumming harps right now.” Jayce pulled out her handheld comm unit. “If I give you this do you think you can figure out why we’re off the air?”

  “I’ll do my best ma’am.”

  “Outstanding.” The Commander handed the young Signals Officer the device and finished her work on the other wounded man. “That will have to do until we can get a medical team down here.”