“Yes, ma’am,” replied Proctor.
The rest of Richards’ task force angled away from the sudden threat of the twisted frigates as they sputtered and died in vacuum. Endeavour’s starboard guns were firing again, targeting the replenished ranks of enemy fighters now making their attack runs at the Constitution-class starship.
“Warspite and Hotspur, come in under our belly so we can protect you,” Richards ordered. “Focus on that. We’ll hold off those fighters.” The reception cut out. “CAG, your discretion,” was Richards’ reply to the unheard question. The two destroyers and their escort frigates angled downward, creeping slowly toward Endeavour’s protective underside.
Three Swarm carriers were now in range of the IDF task force and fired their energy weapons, but Endeavour’s angle took the brunt of the attack on its hull. Damaged but intact, Richards’ ship continued to concentrate fire on the enemy’s fighters, running interference for the escorts to maneuver.
“All vessels, concentrate fire on that lead carrier,” said Richards. “Rail guns only! Make a hole, lads!”
“I think they’re actually making headway with the fighters,” said Blake. “It looks like there are less of them to me.”
Halsey mumbled under her breath. “Right. Now there’s only a few thousand.” She’d kept it low. As captain, morale was something she set, now. She didn’t have the luxury of grousing publicly.
The fighters teeming around Endeavour changed their tactics. They came in underneath, beyond the firing arcs of the bigger vessel’s rail guns, and concentrated on Warspite and Hotspur. The destroyers’ point defenses worked overtime, their firing solutions careful to avoid the underbelly of Endeavour or the IDF fighters now indistinguishable in the crowded space over the Shipyards. That caution hampered their ability to respond.
“Captain, Wellington’s fighters are finally engaging!”
Halsey pulled her eyes away from the lightshow surrounding Endeavour and saw the older X-B99s finally getting into action. The first thing she noticed was their lack of unit cohesion. And then she remembered—they were flown by personnel stationed at Wellington. Trained as she’d been trained, as they’d all been trained to be sure, but used to only monthly drills at best. Their daily jobs were putting ships together, not blowing them apart. They were older personnel flying older ships, who’d never planned on fighting for their lives against an alien enemy.
The slaughter happened fast. The Swarm carriers closed the distance. Up against the enemy fighters, the Wellington defenders, flying lazy and slow, died quickly. Meanwhile, the carriers focused their main efforts on slicing Endeavour’s escort ships to ribbons before engaging the bigger vessel. The livestream transmission was a harsh melody of courage and determination and screams and anguish, one sounding much like the others in the chaos.
“Get me Admiral Pierce,” said Halsey. When no acknowledgment was forthcoming, she looked to her comms officer. Lieutenant Nichols stared fixated at the screen, her cheeks wet. “Lieutenant! Get me Admiral Pierce!”
“Ma’am! Yes, ma’am.”
“Captain,” began Blake, “what are you doing?”
Hotspur exploded on-screen. Over the livestream, she heard Richards’ bridge crew cursing as the nearby blast streaked red and black death across Endeavour’s secondary hull.
“My job, Commander.”
“Admiral Pierce on comms, ma’am,” said Nichols.
“Admiral, request permission to advance Invincible and Independence to aid Endeavour,” she said without preamble. She knew she was speaking for Noah, and she knew he wouldn’t care. There was only one answer now, if the sector was to survive.
“Denied, Captain. You must stay over Britannia and protect Churchill Station at all costs.”
All costs. Once again the tally of lives in Richards’ task force flashed in her mind.
“Sir, if we don’t support Endeavour, she’ll be destroyed. And the Swarm fleet will come here next and dispatch us piecemeal as well. We must combine our force if we’re to—”
“Denied, Captain! Your duty is to carry out my orders to the letter! Churchill Station and your ships are all that stand between the total destruction of Britannia and its survival. If you can’t—”
She turned to Nichols and made a slicing motion with her hand. An indignant Pierce disappeared, replaced again by the Battle of Wellington Shipyards. Endeavour was turning again, slowly as she must, as Richards attempted to bring her barely damaged port guns to bear against Swarm carriers. She had indeed cleared many of the enemy fighters away, but her own fighters too had been winnowed to a few dozen.
Now it was a battle of capital ships.
Six on one.
“Oh my God,” said Proctor.
Halsey searched on-screen for the source of her officer’s despair. Then she saw it. The destroyer Atropos, one of three remaining escort ships in the task force, had abandoned the dubious protection of Endeavour’s underbelly. And she was making a suicide run for the lead Swarm carrier, straight for the forward starboard section alive with rail-gun damage.
“It’s been an … serving … Captain Rich…” came the broken transmission. “Omega Prot … in effect. Ram … speed, Helm.”
Green beams lanced out from several of the Swarm carriers, but Atropos moved too quickly, swooping under their firing arcs. Abandoning all care for survival, she’d put all power into her engines in hopes of making a difference in an otherwise hopeless engagement.
“Godspeed, Meredith—”
The hitch in John Richards’ voice softened to silence as the screen flared bright. Atropos aimed its bow at the flaming forward quarter of the Swarm carrier, and multiple explosions signaled the end of the enemy vessel.
But no cheers erupted across Invincible’s Bridge. All was silent save for the steady stream of overlapping battle reports coming from Wellington Shipyards.
And one captain’s quiet orders, issued with grim determination.
“Comms, get me Captain Preble,” said Halsey. “Helm, prepare to q-jump to the Shipyards.”
Chapter 6
Britannia Sector
Flight Deck, ISS Independence
Lieutenant Lazarus Scollard III worked through the pre-flight checks of his X-23 fighter. Even after a few weeks, he was still getting used to the lockstep process. He’d been more familiar with holding his pirate ship, SS Renegade, together with chewing gun, baling wire, and a kind word to the navicomputer. Having a well-maintained, top-performing ship under him felt almost uncomfortable.
Almost.
“Squadron leaders, report in,” said Laz mechanically. “Let’s do this by the book.”
“Red Leader, standing by.”
“Blue Leader, standing by.”
“Gold Leader, ready to go, CAG.”
And so it went through Independence’s ten fighter squadrons. Squadron leaders verified the ready state of their two squads of four fighters each.
As the acknowledgments ticked off one after the other in his ear, Laz tried not to calculate the numbers. Eighty from Independence, another eighty from Addie’s Invincible. A couple hundred from Churchill. Against how many thousands the Swarm was throwing at them?
Captain Preble had piped Endeavour’s streaming battle report through to senior commanders. It had pretty much been what everyone expected. Pretty much what one carrier and its task force of support vessels standing against six enemy capital ships would have to be.
Unwinnable.
Thousands of Swarm fighters against a few hundred, all emitting that damned droning through open comms. It was goddamned unnerving, that sound. It made Laz’s pirate instincts want to cloak and run. But that was yesterday. He hoped Mimi and the others were well away from here and spending their Chinese millions in good health.
“CAG, this is Independence Actual,” came Preble’s voice. “Status report.”
“Ready to go, Captain,” Laz replied. In the past few weeks, he’d come to know Noah Preble pretty well. If Laz couldn’t be
enjoying the good life with the others, he’d decided, at least he’d signed up on the right ship. Addie had invited him to stay with her on Invincible, but he’d made the harder decision, to leave, for both of them. Had he stayed—no, he wouldn’t let his mind go there. He needed to focus. “Just give the word.”
“The word is stand down, at least for now,” said Preble. “Have the deck chief secure your birds. It’s about to get bumpy.”
“Sir?”
“We’re jumping to Wellington.”
“Uh … intrasystem?”
“Spinning up the q-jump drive now,” said Preble. “Get those birds tied down.”
“Um, aye, sir.”
“Preble out.”
Well that was a bit of unplanned-for not-by-the-book. Intra-system q-jumps were generally frowned upon unless absolutely necessary. Something about quantum efficiencies, the need to dispose of potential energy so near system suns, and too many local jumps having lethal meta-space effects on local space bodies, especially habitable planets. Apparently circumstances warranted rewriting the manual here.
An alien invasion and overwhelming odds will do that, Laz thought. “CAG to all squadron leaders,” he announced over comms. “Hold launch prep.” He ignored the questions that peppered him and slid back his canopy.
“Deck Chief! Hey, Franklin!”
A burly man with two days’ worth of scruff on his face placed his fists on his hips. “Yeah, Lou?”
“We’re standing down. Secure our birds till I tell you different.”
“But sir,” Franklin said, cocking his head. “We just prepped for launch.”
“Boots, Chief, boots! Get ’em back on! Or clean up the mess when these birds get tossed around the deck!”
Franklin’s face hardened, and he started shouting orders to his maintenance crews.
Laz watched them scurry, wondering just how long they actually had till the jump.
Bridge, ISS Invincible
“You ready for this, Noah?”
Preble nodded on the left side of the split viewscreen. On the right, the Battle of Wellington Shipyards raged. The Swarm carriers had given ground in the wake of their first major loss, but they were maneuvering to surround Endeavour. Two of the frigates, Adamant and Gibraltar, engaged the fighters arcing toward the Shipyards, which now had no fighter cover. Fires burned across Endeavour’s hull, and most of the guns on her starboard side were silent.
“Are you sure about these jump coordinates?” he asked.
“Joining a crumbling line of defense isn’t the way to win this thing,” Halsey replied. “We have to think outside the box here, and Proctor’s the best. But you’re the senior captain. I’ll defer to your—”
“No, no, I like it,” said Preble. “Has balls.”
“Captain Halsey, Admiral Pierce is demanding you power down your q-jump drive and acknowledge his hails,” said Nichols. “He’s become quite, um, insistent, ma’am.”
“Sounds like the same interference is keeping you from receiving the admiral’s orders as it is me,” said Preble.
“Yes, it’s a tragedy,” said Halsey. “You secure your birds yet?”
An explosion on-screen, Adamant, made both captains wince. Now, all that stood between the Shipyards and five Swarm carriers was a crippled Constitution-class starship, one heavily damaged escort frigate, and a handful of exhausted fighter pilots.
Preble looked off-screen and nodded at the notification he’d received. “Birds secured.”
“Captain,” said Nichols, “Admiral Pierce says that if you don’t respond immediately, you will stand and face a court-martial the moment this is all over. As will.…” She hesitated, then said softly, “Anyone who follows you.”
Halsey glanced back to her comms officer, then briefly around the Bridge. “Every second we delay, more of us die out there,” she said. “And the chance to stop them here … here … shrinks. If you’re going to mutiny, do it now.”
Only her XO seemed hesitant, but the moment had him in its thrall as well. Halsey eyed him and he nodded. No one said a word against her.
“Captain?” she asked Preble.
“Damn the torpedoes,” came his reply.
Halsey smiled, finishing the quote. “Full speed ahead. Helm, q-jump to the designated coordinates.”
“Aye, Captain. Three … two … one … jump!”
* * *
Invincible shuddered as she passed through q-space. Her deckplates rattled, coffee cups fell from consoles, and seconds later, the ship appeared within the ionosphere of Calais’ third moon. The jump had been precise, skimming the moon’s gravitational field, and that’s what made the ride a little rough. It would also, if Zoe Proctor’s theory proved right, shield them temporarily from Swarm sensors.
I sure hope Noah had those fighters tied down, thought Addison. She hated to think of Laz as a red smear on the flight deck of Independence. She turned to Proctor. “Lieutenant?”
“Jump complete, and we’re in one piece.”
“That’s a start. Independence?”
“She had a little rockier go of it, but she’s where she’s supposed to be,” answered Proctor.
“Very well. Status of the enemy?”
“No change,” said Proctor. “But the fighters are really giving the Shipyards hell. And Gibraltar … she’s gone, ma’am.”
And now Endeavour stood alone.
“Captain!” said Nichols, her finger pressed to her ear. “Endeavour is begging Churchill for reinforcements. She’s lost her q-jump drive, and most of her starboard armament. No fighter cover left to speak of either. She’s getting hammered. Maneuvering on thrusters only to bring what’s left of her port guns to bear.”
Goddamn, but John Richards was giving it all he had, she thought. Every last measure of devotion to duty.
It was high time that man had someone standing with him.
“Launch fighters,” she ordered. “Echelon approach. Focus on the carrier closest to us. I want them adding their firepower to the same spot our mag-rails target, understood? XO, coordinate with the CAG.”
“Aye, ma’am,” said Blake.
“Helm, flank speed. Weapons, target the closest carrier.” She nodded at the screen. “I want alternating crews on reloads. The only reason our guns should stop firing is because they’ll explode otherwise. Clear?”
“Crystal, ma’am,” said the weapons officer.
“Comms, open a shipwide channel.”
“Channel open, ma’am.”
“Crew of Invincible, this is Captain Halsey. We’ve engaged the Swarm. You’ve no doubt heard rumors of how hopeless this battle is. We’ve lost a dozen ships to their one, and we’re severely outgunned. But we’ve beaten them before, and by God, we’re about to do it again. Keep your heads. Stand fast at duty stations. Fight for your families. Fight for Earth!”
Halsey paused a moment, knowing they needed more than that. And then it came to her. “Remember the sacrifice of your shipmates in the fleet. And remember the Atropos!” She motioned for Nichols to cut the feed, then closed her eyes briefly and took a breath. “And Comms?”
“Ma’am?” asked Nichols.
Halsey gave her a grave look. “Start streaming our battle reports to CENTCOM.”
Nichols’ eyes lingered on her captain’s. “Aye,” she replied, turning to carry out the order.
Stand fast, John, Addison projected into the ether. We’re coming.
Chapter 7
Britannia Sector
Flight Deck, ISS Independence
“Squadron launched, Actual,” Laz reported. The boots were off and the birds were flying.
Independence and Invincible were coordinating their fighters, aiming the biggest punch they could at the nearest carrier. Invincible’s mag-rails were already pumping hundreds of slugs into the enemy ship’s engines. The Swarm fighters were away from home and harassing the virtually defenseless Shipyards. But if they came back to protect their carriers, it was the IDF fighters’ job to keep th
em busy.
“Mustang, watch it,” Laz warned Invincible’s CAG on his private channel. “I’ve never trusted computers to do my flying for me.”
Lieutenant Don “Mustang” Havers clucked back over comms. “Look after you and yours, Lafitte. If I need my ass wiped, I’ll call you.”
Laz grinned at the pirate reference. Making covert deliveries for excessive amounts of credits had its allure, but he had to admit—nothing made him feel more alive than combat in a cockpit.
“Blue and Gold Squadrons, form up on my right wing. Let’s provide cover for the Indy’s kids on the first pass. Ballbreaker, you’re our eyes on their birds at the Shipyards.”
“Red Leader, acknowledged,” replied Ballbreaker. Laz could hear the eagerness in her voice. In becoming a fighter pilot, she’d made exactly the right career choice.
The Swarm carriers were waking up and began peppering the air around the IDF pilots. Laz cursed as burst after burst flamed space in his peripheral vision. “Okay, it’s getting choppy, people,” he growled. “Stay sharp.”
“Jesus, look at the ass end of that cumrat carrier,” a voice buzzed over comms. Sounded like Captain Obvious to Laz. C-O always seemed to feel the need to verbalize what everyone else could already see. “It’s like we’re drilling through their hull one slug at a time.”
“Keep the briefings brief today, C-O,” said Laz. “And watch your sixes, people. Momma’s peepers will be lighting up anytime now.”
And on cue, lasers streaked out from Invincible and Independence, both ships moving in at top speed, one above and one below, to attack the Swarm from the rear.
“Break, break, break!” yelled Laz. The lasers were the signal to get the hell out of Dodge before the fighters got caught in a secondary explosion. Both fighter wings swept away, more afraid of dying with the enemy than by their flak fire. The warships’ heavy lasers pierced the fiery hole drilled deep by the mag-rails in the starboard-aft quarter of the closest carrier. As the fighters floored their throttles to evacuate the area, a huge blast erupted from within the carrier’s superstructure.
Legacy Fleet: Avenger (Kindle Worlds) (The First Swarm War Book 2) Page 4