Waking the Sleeping Giant: The First Terran Interstellar War 2 (Founding of the Federation Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  Agamemnon was the only ship in her task force that had actually fired the new missiles since she'd been used to carry them to the testing range. Her crew therefore had the most experience with them and would therefore lead the charge.

  Unfortunately, they only had a few of the missiles, enough for a single broadside from each cruiser. She hoped and prayed it would be enough but knew better than to plan on such wishful thinking.

  (@)()(@)

  Dreamer winced as he took a moment from his duties to let his weld cool. He accessed the herd's status and was gratified to see that the Alpha bull had set it up so he and the team would get a continuous data feed.

  He was curious about the weapon the small craft had used. They were nuclear warheads of course, but they had been very effective in penetrating the shields of the herd. He played back the sensor recording and then turned as a tech moved in to check the weld for structural integrity.

  He frowned as he watched a camera feed of one of the explosions. It seemed normal, but as he replayed the image he noted another ship being struck slightly off to the side. It didn't look right. His fingers stopped the playback, and he scrolled it back one frame at a time.

  When he realized there was something odd there, he tried a different camera feed, then another and another until he found a clearer image. He watched frame by frame as the explosion went off. Instead of a round ball with most of the energy being deflected by the energy shields, it seemed like the explosion was crushed between two shields. That didn't make sense. Had the aliens found a way to direct their weapon yields somehow?

  He tapped out a warning to the ship's weapon bull and attached the time chop he was looking at. Hopefully, the weapons bull would know more.

  (@)()(@)

  “Herd Leader. I've gotten a report from an engineering bull … Dreamer?” the weapons bull reported in confusion as he stared at the report. “I do not understand; how could the aliens have directed a nuclear weapon?”

  “Explain,” the ship's Alpha bull asked as the herd leader came over to stand behind the weapon bull's station.

  “This is what he is saying,” the bull stated, putting the short email up, and then playing the time chop.

  After it finished the ship's Alpha seemed puzzled but less concerned about the warhead than the distraction. The Herd Alpha bull frowned and placed a hand on the back of the weapon bull's chair as he leaned over his shoulder. “Replay that,” he growled.

  He watched the replay, then a second one. “Loop it,” he ordered, and look for other views.” He turned to Dreamer's electronic message and then back to the video before he caught on. “It's a shaped charge,” he murmured.

  “Herd Leader?” the ship's Alpha asked as the weapons bull looked up in alarm.

  “A shaped charge. Somehow, they figured out how to direct the fire. See?” the Alpha said, pointing to the video. “See how the rear of the explosion is initially a cone shape? It should be round! Most of the energy should be dissipated by the shields. That isn't what we're seeing here.”

  “So, it is harnessing more of the fire of the sun to burn through our shields … that is how they broke them so easily?” the weapons bull asked carefully.

  “Yes. And once they were through our shields, those weapons were even more effective against our armor,” the herd leader replied.

  “Fortunately, the small craft have departed.”

  “Yes, to rearm,” the herd leader replied, looking up to the plot. “They will be back. In fewer numbers each time fortunately.”

  “The other missiles lacked the shaped charge?” the ship's Alpha asked.

  “I will check,” the weapons bull replied, tapping at his controls.

  “Do so. Quickly.”

  (@)()(@)

  Admiral Kepler grimaced as she checked the tech readings. The shaped charges had done some damage but not enough. The battleships had strong energy fields designed to deflect or absorb the weapons. Their armor was good too, and the angles made a lot of incoming energy deflect away before penetrating to the interior of the ship.

  “The enemy ships are slow, slower than before. They are sticking to the herd mentality,” Willard reported.

  “It's not so much a herd as prudent strategy. You only go as fast as your slowest ship to maintain fleet cohesion in the face of the enemy,” Jan replied absently.

  “We can change course, ma'am. Turn this into a battle of maneuver,” Willard offered. “Wear them down, make them dance,” he said. “They haven't had a chance to resupply either.”

  “We will. But we need to get in closer to give our missiles a chance,” she said.

  Willard grimaced but then nodded.

  Their long-range ship missiles were limited to ion propulsion. The fighter and bomber torpedoes used chemical fuel as propellant but were short-ranged at under ten thousand kilometers. Anything longer and they needed a ballistic element to their course or they burned out and didn't have enough fuel for final maneuvers.

  It was a vexing problem, one she was becoming all too well aware of. The longer the missiles were in flight the easier they were at being seen and intercepted. But the missiles were her best weapon it seemed, there was no way she intended to let her ships get into the range of the behemoth's main guns. Not if she could help it.

  “Alter course to Alpha three. We need to get into range but without them being bow on. Let's see how determined they are to get those main guns into gut-tearing range,” she said.

  (@)()(@)

  Adrienne grimaced as she noted where the resupply shuttles were. Obviously, they had been launched late and on a vector different than the one she'd planned on. “All ships, the fuel trucks are going to be late for the party. Adjust course and speed to compensate and then shut down anything we don't need. It looks like we're out of this for the time being,” she said.

  She heard some cursing but ignored it. It sucked, but it was what it was.

  (@)()(@)

  Captain Gideon Kishman grimaced as he got the order from Lexington. He turned to see Republic and Allegiance on either of his flanks with six of their destroyers arrayed ahead and around them.

  “Incoming fire from the enemy!” Agamenon's ATO said urgently.

  “Jink!” the captain ordered just as he saw two of the destroyers take hits. Dagger seemed to be hit so hard she turned broadside on to the incoming fire. He watched in horror as her drive cut out as well as her energy shields. Her armor was no match for the weight of metal coming at her; as he watched she was torn apart. Defiance joined her a moment later.

  “Damn it!” he snarled as each of the destroyer's carcass drifted away. His own ship shivered as she took hits, some from the enemy fire, and some from the expanding debris.

  “Republic and Allegiance have both taken hits. Allegiance has lost her keel shields but is recovering. Dagger and Defiance are gone,” Ensign Aggie, the ship's A.I. reported.

  “I saw that,” the captain replied, flexing his jaw as he checked on the damage control efforts. Fortunately, the damage seemed minor.

  “We're entering extreme missile range of the new missiles, sir,” the TO stated. The captain looked up and over to him. “Flag wants us to use the new weapons, sir. Do we fire them in one broadside or salt a few into each launch?” Lieutenant Commander Kai Beleckov asked.

  “Use them or lose them. Pick one target for each ship and hammer them until we're out of the weapons,” the captain ordered.

  “Aye aye, sir. Setting up the shot and feeding it to the other ships. We've got enough missiles for two broadsides,” the TO reported. “We'll have to wait another seven minutes after launch to get into effective range of our other weapons,” he warned.

  “Very well,” the captain replied. “Destroyers are on defense. Not that they are doing much good other than being targets at the moment,” he growled.

  (@)()(@)

  Agamemnon fired twelve missiles at the enemy ship, then another twelve twenty seconds later. Each of the other cruisers fired twelve missiles an
d then another twelve at their own targets. Each cruiser targeted a single battleship for the initial broadsides.

  Each of the new missiles had an antimatter warhead and an antimatter drive instead of a nuclear charge. The antimatter drive took a bit longer to kick in and was prone to failure. Four of the missiles had drive failure right after launch and shut down before they could explode and harm their mother ships.

  Two weren't so fortunate. They lost containment and went off, one close enough to Allegiance to batter her bow shields down.

  (@)()(@)

  The herd Alpha bull saw the premature detonations and immediately barked an order to fire a broadside of rail gun rounds and to maneuver sharply. “They are using more of their new shaped charge warheads but far more powerful ones!” the sensor bull reported.

  (@)()(@)

  Each of the incoming missiles however had already locked on target and built up a tremendous amount of speed in their ten-million-kilometer journey. The course adjustments forced them to adjust their own courses. Those in the lead had the least amount of time to adjust, five lost lock and passed their targets by to detonate harmlessly twenty thousand kilometers away.

  Sixty-one missiles managed to stay on course. Fourteen were hit by the rail gun rounds and went off. But the remaining forty-seven missiles spread out and began their final attack runs. They had no time to coordinate and adjust their courses so twenty locked on to the nearest great defender while eleven locked on to the crippled great defender and the remaining sixteen locked onto the flagship.

  Each of the cruisers and battle cruisers fired to cover their larger consorts as the flagships weapon turrets rearmed. The second wave of metal took out another twenty-one missiles; most of them locked on to the crippled ship and flagship that was near the heart of the defenses. Four of the missiles were knocked off course by their consort's deaths and oriented on targets of opportunity.

  The remaining missiles crossed the final invisible line in space and detonated. One great defender, one battle cruiser, and three cruisers shattered under the explosion of power of a shaped antimatter explosion directed into their guts.

  The Terrans had finally found their answer to the Tauren great defender's main gun it seemed.

  (@)()(@)

  The Romeo bull had one moment to realize that he was never going to fulfill his dream of his own fiefdom before his ship was torn apart around him.

  (@)()(@)

  The scent of fear and terror filled the herd Alpha bull's nostrils as he saw the great defender break up and then tear itself apart. One moment it was a wounded herd defender, the greatest of the herd, the next it was spinning pieces of dust and debris.

  “How can such small ships do that much damage?” he murmured as the remaining missiles arrowed in to his ship.

  “We must flee!” the ship's Alpha bull said. “There is no way we can stand up to such fire!” he said in a near panic.

  The herd Alpha started to order the other to get control of himself when the ship was rocked by the robotic craft's detonations. The lights went out and the ship quivered as the warheads tore the ship's shields apart like paper and a late warhead's detonation nearly tore them apart.

  Alarms screamed. The Alpha bull recovered first in time to see the luring red of damage reports across half of the ship.

  “Change course!” he bellowed. “Get us clear now!” he ordered.

  (@)()(@)

  Admiral Kepler flinched when a hoarse bellow broke her concentration. She looked up as one of the techs stood and cheered. “Yeah! Take that, you sons-a-bitches! Stick that knife in there and twist it up their arse! Frack them up good!” someone on the bridge snarled. There was a smattering of cheers and applause that was quickly cut off by Willard's hand cracking on the top of a console like a thunderclap of doom.

  “As you were!” Willard barked, surveying the room with a baleful look. “This is a professional unit, not a damn soccer match! Act like it!”

  Jan was certain the miscreant was going to get a searing ass reaming in the near future. He deserved it; that was stupid to interrupt his thought processes.

  “We're not out of the woods yet. That was our best Sunday punch,” she growled.

  (@)()(@)

  There was no way they could face those weapons again the herd Alpha bull realized. He needed time, time for the ships to lick their wounds and time to get clear. “All ships, set course based on the telemetry we are feeding you,” the Alpha bull rumbled, setting a course away from the enemy herd and to deep space. The herd reacted in concert, turning at the speed of their slowest unit. As he watched he noted shuttles moving out from the support ships to the defenders without his orders. He nodded once in approval.

  “Alpha, what do we do?” the ship's Alpha bull asked as he gently brushed aside dangling wires.

  The herd Alpha tried to answer, but he coughed instead. He slapped his visor down and set the oxygen feed up to help clear his head.

  “Clear this smoke!” the ship's Alpha bull snarled over his shoulder.

  “There is a fire in a neighboring compartment and another one below us,” a bull tech reported.

  “Then put it out!”

  “We may need to evacuate this compartment,” the bull said. “The floor is heating up. The wiring is in the floor as well as the ceiling. We may lose control of the ship,” he warned as more smoke rose through the floor decking.

  “Get the fire under control,” the Alpha bull ordered. “Helm, continue on course away from the enemy herd. Prep for hyperspace.”

  “We haven't resupplied …,” a bull warned.

  “We have no time. It is a short jump. If the enemy isn't there, we will resupply there,” the Alpha bull replied tartly. “Now do as I command!”

  “Yes, Herd Leader,” the bull said, bobbing a nod as he got to work.

  “I'm going to my compartment. It has a repeater of the controls. I'll issue the orders to the fleet from there,” the Alpha bull rumbled to the ship's Alpha.

  “Yes, Herd Leader,” the ship's Alpha replied with a nod. “We will not continue on the attack?”

  “No. The Beta's forces are most likely destroyed. There is no telling what awaits us in the enemy star system. We must preserve the herd. We are all that stand between the home herds and those weapons,” the Alpha bull replied.

  The ship's Alpha rolled his eyes in fear as he nodded.

  “Find out if Dreamer and the others are alive. When we have time, I want to know about these weapons so we can figure out a counter for them,” the Alpha bull ordered as he walked off the bridge.

  “Yes, Herd Leader,” the ship's Alpha bull replied before he turned and started to issue further orders to save what he could of his ship.

  (@)()(@)

  “They are running, Admiral. Hyperdrives have charged. We can't stop them,” CIC stated.

  “I see that,” Admiral Kepler stated tiredly. The battle had been short and brutal but still taxing on her. She felt like she'd run a marathon, but she'd never left the bridge. “Course?”

  “They are headed to the jump point back to Rho, ma'am,” the CIC rating replied.

  “With their tails tucked between their ass cheeks,” the admiral drawled.

  “Should we follow?” Alton asked hoarsely, turning to her. Like her he'd spent a lot of time issuing orders so his voice was a bit rough.

  Jan shook her head. She intended to bluff the Taurens into running and to continue running. “No. We don't have any more of those wonder weapons in stock. We'll chase them anyway. Nothing says keep running like a nice chase from something small and terrifying that just tore you up.”

  “It's like seeing a pack of bears running from a toothless Chihuahua, ma'am,” Alton said with a bemused shake of his head.

  “You haven't seen a North American Wolverine. You don't tangle with them. Even bears avoid the things and for good reason. Get them pissed and they'll run you down and rip your leg off no matter how big they are. They've been known to take out elk and the odd m
oose or two. We might be small now, but we've just proven we're vicious,” Jan replied with a nasty grin.

  “Agreed. Now that we've beaten them back, do you think it will be our turn to go on the offense, ma'am?” Alton asked hopefully.

  “Hopefully,” the vice admiral replied. “Hopefully soon.”

  ACT II:

  Chapter 15

  February 2239

  The Fleet Herd Alpha bull let out a sigh of relief at the sight of stars once more. They'd made it. The cheer on the bridge was muted, but he could feel some of the tension ebb. That was good.

  Unfortunately, the ride back home had not involved any stops along the way. The surviving ships, therefore, couldn't stop for repairs; they had no way to communicate with each other while in hyperspace. They'd had to make do with the repairs they had made from the ambush sight to the hyperbridge point and then the few hours he'd allowed the fleet herd to linger in subspace before taking them into the bridge back to their home.

  It was a minor miracle that they all survived to get that far the Alpha bull reflected. Each of his ships licked wounds and did their best to make good on their repairs internally, but far too many of their injuries were external.

  There was no raw material nearby to draw on to help with the task however, he knew that and had accepted it. The support vessels were already hard at work and doing their best anyway, sometimes pulling a part out and rebuilding it. Scrap had been collected to be melted down and used. Before the scrap was torn apart, work parties had gone through it to extract whatever fittings and bits that they could, no matter how small or trivial. A nut or bolt seemed like a small thing, but it meant the factory ship's machine shops wouldn't have to make it. There were questions about if some were still usable or not however.

  It didn't matter. For the moment they needed every part.