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

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Waking the Sleeping Giant: The First Terran Interstellar War 2 (Founding of the Federation Book 5) Page 23

by Chris Hechtl


  “Okay, people, Hatfield is calling the shot first, and I want to make sure we do better. So don't screw this up!” the CAG snarled as the pilots climbed into their planes.

  Kenneth used the helmet in his hand to bump his copilot's helmet and then climbed into the cockpit behind Sully. They made a good team, but he knew they had a lot to learn. It was one thing to fly simulated ops in virtual or in real space, quite another to actually fly a combat mission. They had all seen the recordings; they all knew it could go south very quickly.

  His greatest fear was flying into a shit storm of rail gun rounds. Just about every pilot's worse nightmare at the moment. That was why they were planning to have the three wings come in from slightly different vectors instead of one massive wave. The wings would hit in close succession, each adapting to the previous wing's victories or mistakes.

  Which made it a good thing; Concord was going fourth he thought complacently. Commander Hatfield might demand the honor of hitting first, but she wouldn't know what they were up against and wouldn't be able to adapt like the rest of the wings would.

  Chapter 21

  “Ship Leader, we are detecting gravitational spoor where there shouldn't be any,” a sensor tech reported.

  “A problem with the software?” the ship's Alpha bull asked, turning from the sensor tech to a coder nearby. The coder looked up with a frown and then went over to the sensor station.

  “No. They just appeared a short time ago. I've run several checks to be sure of the spoor.”

  The coder frowned as he scanned the lines of code. “It could be a glitch … I recommend checking with the other ships or …”

  “Ship Leader, reports from the herd of the same gravitational spoor sighting,” the communications bull reported, cutting the coder off.

  “In one ship but all? Is this a glitch?” the ship's Beta bull demanded.

  “I can run a diagnostic,” the coder offered.

  “Do it,” the Beta bull ordered. He turned to the ship's Alpha bull as the Alpha bull cleared his throat.

  “Someone wake the herd leader,” he said gruffly.

  (@)()(@)

  “We have correlated the various sightings of the spoor from the fleet. They all fall in the same place and are moving in our direction,” the sensor tech reported a short time later, just as the Alpha bull yawned and came onto the bridge.

  The herd leader stopped dead and turned to the sensor tech. “Repeat that?”

  “A gravitational anomaly has been reported. We have confirmed it is real, most likely a ship or ships emergence from hyperspace nearby,” the ship's Alpha bull interjected smoothly.

  “Actually, the new software and changes to our hardware along with correlating the information from the various ships has improved our sensor range and resolution significantly,” the sensor bull interjected. Both bulls turned to the sensor tech.

  The Alpha bull stared at the plot. He didn't like that the unknown ships were coming in his direction. They could have easily jumped in and then out without his reaction. That they were coming in his direction meant they were either scouting him or courting battle.

  “Could it be those ships we ran off? Or their consorts?” the Beta bull suggested.

  “Based on the vector, I would say the ships came from the hyperbridge from the demon sector,” the navigational bull ventured. He pointed to the vector and then ran a line to the path of the hyperbridge. “See?”

  The herd leader grunted.

  When he didn't respond for a full eight minutes, the ship's Alpha cleared his throat. “Herd Leader, what do we do?”

  “Order …,” the Alpha bull stopped himself then shook himself once. “We're going to withdraw. Order the ships to finish repairs that they can in a timely manner. Time to the enemy getting into range?” he demanded.

  “If they fired their missiles, they could come in on a ballistic course. We wouldn't see them,” the tactical bull replied. “We could fire a spread now, see if we can pick off one or more?” he suggested slyly.

  “Tempting, but no,” the sensor bull replied.

  “What do you mean no?” the weapons bull demanded. “You have no right to issue orders!”

  “I was merely about to point out that although we have resolution on the ships it isn't fine enough to give us a hard lock. You would be firing in a general direction but with a wide margin of error. That margin is reduced every minute they come closer of course.”

  “Understood,” the ship's Alpha bull replied before the weapons bull could get into it further with the tech.

  “New data,” the sensor tech reported, bending over his station. All eyes were upon him. After a moment, he grunted. “Based on these readings, I am seeing a four of eight approaching, perhaps more.”

  “Are the ships the enemy ships?” the ship's Beta bull demanded.

  “Unknown at this range. The smaller ships’ mass is consistent with the ones we saw before however,” the sensor bull stated.

  When he got word of the numbers of incoming ships, the herd leader grimaced. If he didn't at least try to fight with his crushing majority and new designs courtesy of Dreamer, it would utterly destroy morale.

  “We will stand our ground for the moment but be prepared to flee if the enemy should show their new weapons,” the Alpha bull stated. “We will not charge headlong again, instead make a firing pass to test their resolve and our new weapons,” he stated. “Have them readied,” he said with a nod to the ship's Alpha bull.

  “You heard the herd leader. Get moving,” the ship's Alpha bull ordered as he turned to his crew.

  The Alpha bull watched the ship leader issue orders as he considered the future. He immediately issued order to send out a dispatch ship to warn the scavenging ships to not return but instead head to the nearest conquered colony. He then sent out a dispatch ship loaded with everything Dreamer's thinker herd had created as well as every ship's sensor recordings and logs to the conquered and newly colonized world.

  (@)()(@)

  “Ma'am, the enemy fleet is reacting to our presence,” a CIC rating reported.

  “So soon?” Willard asked in dismay. He checked the clock. They had a long ways to go before they were in range. “Damn it …”

  “Apparently, they have gravitic sensors too. We never did nail down how much of a range and resolution they have,” Ensign Lex stated as the plot changed.

  “They aren't coming in on us. No charge, they've learned caution,” Jan murmured as she watched the plot change. “That is almost … timid given the disparity in our forces.”

  “As you said, ma'am, they've learned caution. They know small things come with painful packages,” Commander Krenshaw replied.

  “True,” Jan replied. “Are you in effective communication's range?” she asked, turning to the A.I.

  “Not at the moment. We are still sixty-three hours out from them, ma'am,” Ensign Lex replied. “I could launch a worm attack now, but I wouldn't know how effective it would be for over one hundred hours. Therefore, I wouldn't be able to update it or control it.”

  “So, you are saying you need to get in closer,” Commander Krenshaw asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay,” Jan replied with a nod. “We can do that.” She paused and then shrugged. “To be honest I'd rather see it happen up close than wonder if it happened at all,” she stated. “No offense, Lex, but I want to be sure. And I don't like taking some things for granted—not when a lot is riding on it. If you need the time to get it right, I'm okay with that.”

  “Agreed,” the commander said with a nod and grimace.

  “Agreed,” the A.I. echoed.

  (@)()(@)

  When the two forces got within twenty light minutes of each other, the Terrans started their offense by sending a series of worms in a cyber-attack. The response they got was unexpected.

  (@)()(@)

  “Incoming data from the enemy ship. Isolating the files now,” the communications bull reported.

  “Accessing t
he file,” a Tauren coder stated as he moved over to the station next to the communications tech. “It is … a virus. Malicious,” the coder said in admiration.

  “I think I am glad you allowed Dreamer to, what did he call it? Air-gap our electronics?” the ship's Alpha bull said, turning to the herd leader.

  “Indeed.”

  “All ships have reported receipt of the virus package and have purged it,” the communications tech reported.

  “Very good,” the Alpha bull rumbled.

  “Herd Leader,” the coder said.

  The bull turned to the coder. “Speak.”

  “Permission to send an attack in kind? It is cruder, but they will get the message.”

  “And what exactly is that message?” the ship's Alpha bull asked in amusement.

  “That we're up for their tricks,” the coder replied eagerly.

  The ship's Alpha bull snorted. He turned to the herd leader. The Alpha bull rubbed his beard as he thought the scenario through. It was tempting, oh so tempting to let the enemy think they had been brought low by their electronic attack. But, since he wasn't at all certain what the attack was meant to do and he didn't like shutting down his systems to be helpless, he decided to not follow that plan.

  “Go ahead and do it,” he said instead, waving a hand.

  “This should get their attention,” the coder muttered eagerly as he brought up his own files and then moved them to a buffer. “Ready,” he said, turning to the communications tech.

  “Files away,” the bull replied with a nod as he pressed a button on his station with a flourish.

  (@)()(@)

  “Ma'am, we are receiving a data transmission from the enemy,” Lex reported.

  “Is it your worm? Did it succeed?” Willard demanded as Alton looked up.

  “Not exactly,” the A.I. replied in a put-out tone of voice.

  “What happened?” Willard asked as the admiral came onto the flag bridge. He turned to her.

  “Ma'am, I regret to inform you the cyber-attack has not only failed, but the enemy has returned the favor. Their attack is laughable, but it shows they knew what we were doing,” the A.I. reported as his holographic avatar turned to the admiral.

  Jan stopped dead and then frowned. “Well! That's … disappointing,” she said, glancing at her staff. Lex had the most put-out expression. Alton seemed relieved, but she knew he wanted to fight it out conventionally. “They are learning.”

  “Yes, ma’am. They are learning and adapting far faster than I'd like to see,” Ensign Lex stated peevishly.

  “Apparently, someone forgot to mention to you that no plan survives contact with the enemy,” the staff TO said with a shake of his head. “Well, if we can't' do it the easy way, I suppose we'll have to do it the hard way then, right, ma'am?”

  “Something like that. Order the planes to launch when we get to the ten-light-minute line,” the admiral said, looking at the plot. After a moment, Lex put a line in space at the ten-minute mark and then a counter.

  “Thank you, Ensign.”

  “That primitive attack,” Willard said, frowning thoughtfully. “It was crude, right? I wonder if it was a serious attack or even a humorous one?”

  “What are you saying?” Jan asked, turning to her chief of staff.

  “I'm just thinking out loud. I'm wondering if that was a mocking thing. Sort of a neener-neener, back-in-your-face schoolyard thing,” he said.

  “Aliens,” Alton replied with a sniff. “Who understands how they think?”

  “Hopefully, you do, Commander, given we're going to be engaging them shortly,” Jan replied dryly as she nodded her chin to the plot.

  (@)()(@)

  Dreamer nodded as he read the report of the cyber-attack. It was going as he'd expected so far. He was glad he was there, on the ship, still a part of the crew. He knew that the Alpha bull had been tempted to bundle him off and send him on a dispatch ship for the home herd worlds, but he was glad the Alpha had changed his mind.

  His place was with his herd. Here he could do the most good. On a dispatch ship, he would have gone crazy wondering what had happened. He wouldn't have been able to do much in the many eight of days of transit time.

  No, here, for better or for worse, he was to stay.

  Besides, he was rather eager and a bit nervous to see his ideas used for the first time.

  (@)()(@)

  Adrienne checked the vectors as she climbed into the cockpit of her fighter. She swore under her breath. The enemy wasn't charging headlong into their arms again, which could be construed as a good or bad thing. They had learned caution either way, which meant she had to be cautious. Based on the latest information dump from CIC, Artoo displayed the IDs of several of the same ships they'd encountered at Altair.

  “So, we're in for a rematch,” she muttered as she finished strapping in. A tech checked her over, connected her life support lines, then quickly and professionally closed the cockpit and locked it down before disappearing. When Artoo signaled the techs were clear, she hit the ignition sequence. Once her systems were up and running on their own power, she watched as lines were disconnected from her fighter and withdrawn into the deck and ceiling by robotic arms or the ground crew.

  “I should have taken that dump before we got in,” someone muttered.

  “You? Hell man, I shouldn't have had that last bean burrito,” another pilot replied.

  “Can it. You all know the drill. We're being fed the new vectors and intel, so pay attention to your Artoo units,” Adrienne said over the wing network. “Launch as we planned,” she growled.

  (@)()(@)

  Jan watched her carrier launch her bombers, one after another in rapid succession. She turned to the plot to see the wings from the three carriers form up into individual groups. The escort carrier's wing would be held back as a reserve, which didn't endear her to their pilots, but that was tough. Someone had to keep the home fires burning, and they'd drawn the short straw. Besides, they had a small wing and had the greenest pilots of the group.

  “Okay, Adrienne, it's up to you to draw first blood again,” she murmured as she watched Lexington's wing move out smartly.

  “Based on our latest sensor report, it looks like they've gotten a single task force as reinforcements, ma'am,” Alton reported. “A BB, cruisers, and the usual support ships.”

  “Understood. Order the wing to target the ships with the least amount of damage first.”

  “First, ma'am?” Alton asked.

  “You heard me. I want them taken down a peg. I'd go for a golden beebee on one of the cripples, but they are slowing the enemy force down already. The more we can do to hurt them, the better.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am.”

  (@)()(@)

  The Alpha bull saw the incoming bombers on the plot and immediately ordered a course change. “Increase speed to the maximum we can sustain as we turn. We need to move outside their range as quickly as possible or at least extend it to force them to disengage or fight only for a brief time,” he stated.

  “Yes, Herd Leader. What of the new tech?”

  “We will get to that. In time,” the Alpha bull replied.

  (@)()(@)

  Adrienne had taken her wing high; Mace Malone off of Concord had taken his wing to hook south and to starboard while Uber Dawn, Ark Royal's CAG, had taken her forces to the south and port. Each of the fighter squadrons in each of the fighter wings had been modified. They no longer carried strike packages of their own. Instead, they carried electronic warfare packages to help get the bombers in deeper. They had been thoroughly tested against simulated Tauren hardware on the route out, but as Adrienne noted the slight discrepancies in the sensor feeds, she wondered all over again how effective they would be.

  Her thoughts turned to annoyance and then took on a hint of dismay as the enemy ships began to emit jamming signals and continue to maneuver away from the wings.

  (@)()(@)

  “The enemy small craft are coming in from three different vec
tors in succession. We can't target them all,” the ship's Alpha warned.

  “The enemy small craft are emitting jamming of their own,” the sensor tech reported.

  “Weapons, all great defenders are to target the first herd. All lesser defenders to target the second, and the cruisers to target the third. Fire two broadsides of warshot, then switch to anti-small craft procedures,” the herd Alpha bull ordered.

  (@)()(@)

  “Mass readings coming in hot! Jink!” a bomber in the lead barked. All fighters and bombers scattered around the incoming mass of metal. It was like a storm; some called it a metal hurricane, others the shit storm of death and despair.

  Either way, if you didn't get out of the way, you were toast. Fortunately, everyone got clear in time.

  “Get back in formation,” Adrienne barked. She turned her head in time to see the distant sparks of something a light minute away. Apparently, someone in the Royal's wing hadn't been so lucky or as fast as her people. Pity.

  (@)()(@)

  “The first missed. Firing two more broadsides now.”

  “I ordered one,” the Alpha bull growled as the great defenders each fired two shots, then switched to anti-fighter procedures.

  “I cut the broadsides in half since I believed, rightly, that the enemy would anticipate it and maneuver to avoid it. The second shot is a net spread out further to force them further apart and to break their coordination,” the weapons bull reported.

  The herd leader stared at him for a long moment. Finally, the weapons bull exposed his throat slightly. “Next time clear that with me first,” the herd leader said scathingly as he turned away.

  (@)()(@)

  The second time the warning came in to jink forced the wing to scatter. Some weren't so lucky; the metal hurricane wasn't as dense, but it was four times as big, forcing them to fly at full afterburner to get around and through it safely. Adrienne corkscrewed wildly through the metal, in the zone and for the moment too focused on her own survival to worry about her pilots.

 

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