by Chris Hechtl
When she was clear, she panted as she checked the status. It took nearly a minute to get the report in. Half of the wing had been scattered to hell and gone. Four of the bombers hadn't been fast enough to get clear of the bombardment and had been hit. One was a dead stick; the other three were just gone. “E equals M C squared,” she murmured.
(@)()(@)
“It is time. Order the launch,” the Alpha bull rumbled.
He watched as the converted shuttles launched from the ships. Each great defender only had three to contribute to their own defense. Each battlecruiser had two, and each cruiser had just one. The small craft were ordered to stand off their mother ship and fend off the enemy parasite craft without venturing far from their parent ships.
(@)()(@)
“They launched fighters of their own, or shuttles; I can't tell. They've got jamming too,” a bomber pilot reported.
Adrienne cursed under her breath. Finally, she took in a deep cleansing breath and then let it out. “Well,” she said for the benefit of those listening. “This gets better and better. Fighters to engage the enemy screen, such as it is. Bombers, you are on your own. Hit your targets hard and fast and then get out of there,” she ordered.
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“Ma'am, we're receiving reports from the wing. It looks like the enemy has launched fighter craft of their own. Unknown design and configuration,” CIC reported.
“This just got even more interesting,” Jan murmured.
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Space around the Tauren ships quickly devolved into a furball as the Terrans got into extreme range of the ships and improvised fighters. The Terran pilots knew the situation was coming and had trained for it. Adrienne found that it was easy to lead the shuttles off, but they tended to snap back to their mother ships as if connected by an invisible leash. It meant she'd been had; they only engaged fighters that were close enough to endanger a particular ship and had strict orders not to go harrying off after the fighters she dangled out as bait for them.
The fighters hadn't been outfitted with anti-fighter missiles so had to rely on their lasers to attack the converted shuttles.
The shuttles had sloping armor and took the burns but shrugged them off unless they were hit in the stern. Then they tended to lose their engines as their thrusters were melted. Word was quickly passed to go for an up-the-kilt shot whenever possible, but they only had time for a minute of fighting before the fighters and bombers were forced to disengage and return to the carriers.
They didn't just have to contend with the fighters however. She noted with dismay that several times a Tauren fighter would lead a Terran into the guns of a waiting mother ship's guns. She lost four of her fighters to such tactics before she ordered the squadron off just as her bombers went in.
From a distance of one-million kilometers, she watched the bombers make their run. It was obvious though that the enemy warships had kept their best back for the bombers. As the bombers settled into a steady heading, the warships opened up with wars hot. Another four bombers were destroyed within seconds. The survivors jinked and kept moving in order to lose the enemy lock, but it also forced them to delay their own lock on.
Her people had improved the standoff range of the torpedoes, along with their electronic warfare packages and warheads. Each of the warheads was a shaped charge. Not that many of them did much good.
As the torpedoes began to fire out from the underside of the bombers, the targeted ship erupted into a snowball of jamming. It also fired war shot, opening up with all of its gun turrets directly in the path of the incoming torpedoes as it also blew emergency thrusters in order to provide the smallest target for the incoming torpedo spread and extend the range to throw their computers off.
Clearly, the enemy had worked hard on their own anti-torpedo doctrine, she noted mentally as she observed the strike go in. One by one she saw torpedoes erupt into small puffs as they were extinguished.
The last maneuvers coupled with the ECM from both sides wasn't quite enough she realized. Or, to put it another way, they balanced each other out to some degree, despite the crudity of the alien's ECM. But the war shot took out half of the torpedoes as they spread apart. They also took out eight of her bombers.
A second broadside from other ships took out more of the torpedoes but a few still got through. Seven managed to get within striking distance and set off their warheads. She watched the ship list. She studied the burning wounds. Four of the shaped charges had scored hits; the other three had battered down her shields or had hit the shields but missed the ship inside. It didn't matter. As she watched the ship got control of itself and underway once more. Obviously, it was not enough to score a kill.
She heard soft swearing on the net and pulled out in time to see another bomber erupt into a fireball. The other Tauren ships were continuing to hit the bombers as they retreated.
“Well! All hands, pass on what we've seen to the Royals and Concordians. It's their turn next,” she said. “Then head back to the barn,” she ordered.
Chapter 22
The Alpha bull grunted as he assessed the damage. All three attacks had been focused on the great defender so damage to the rest of the fleet herd was light to nonexistent. He was not happy by the damage reports from the great defender but glad to see some of Dreamer's new tech had made the difference in its survival. He could see the differences between the previous battle and the current one.
He checked on the converted shuttles. Half of the shuttle craft had survived the brief battle surprisingly. They were being directed back to their mother ships for refueling and rearming. They would have time to recover, most likely an eight of eight minutes before the enemy parasite craft were turned around by their own mother ships.
He realized that each side was going to lose defenders during each of the clashes. Eventually it would reach a tipping point. But as long as he still had some cover, eventually the enemy would expend themselves. At the very least, they would exhaust their munitions and pilots before they got into missile range.
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Jan read the report from the CAGs and shook her head. “So much for not needing fighters or fighter ordinance!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alton said eyes wide. She glanced at him. He had argued strenuously against including any fighter ordinance. They had only limited room in the single munitions collier Walter had stingily granted them, so they'd stuffed it with ship missiles and torpedoes. Something in that mix had to go; the fighter missiles and bombs had been it. She'd always intended to receive replacements in the follow-up supply run in six months or so.
It seemed that they were going to be needed she mused as she checked the losses.
Lexington's wing had lost six fighters and sixteen bombers. Half of her fighters were gone in a single engagement. Concord and Ark Royal's wings had done marginally better since they had known what to expect. They'd still taken losses though; Concord was down three fighters and nine bombers. Ark Royal was down four fighters and six bombers. But none of the bombers had managed to score a kill and that was very telling from her standpoint. She could kick herself since it was all her fault. She immediately realized she'd made a mistake in targeting the largest undamaged capital ship first. She should have attritioned the cruisers first, worn them down and then gone after the capital ships.
But, it was just the opening moves she reminded herself.
According to Concord's report, the enemy had lost half of their fighters. Based on Alton's quick and dirty assessment of the video feed the bombers had sent back, the Tauren ships were most likely converted shuttles. They were slow but heavily armored and armed. They also had fearsome discipline, sticking close to their ships with great intensity.
She was tempted to send the fighters in to strike at the cruisers, but she had another card to play.
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“The Terrans are not sending in their small craft once more?” the ship's Alpha bull asked.
“Apparently, not. Either they are conser
ving them or they have other reasons,” the weapons bull replied.
“Or, they believe they can do us more damage with their missiles and their hellish warheads. Soften us up, break our shell and will to fight, then send the small craft back in to finish off the wounded as they attempt to flee,” the herd Alpha bull rumbled.
Ears around the compartment twitched in his direction. Slowly the ship's Alpha bull turned to him. “Your orders, sir?”
“We will keep the range open. Prepare to fire war shot on my command. I need hard numbers on their missile range. I want to keep to their extreme range as much as possible.”
“Understood, Herd Leader,” the ship's Alpha bull replied dutifully.
“Tasking to the fleet. We are changing formation,” the Alpha bull rumbled, leaning forward and gripping the arm rests of his chair. “We are shifting formation to a defensive one. Cruisers are to place themselves between the enemy and the great defenders …”
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“They are keeping the range open. This isn't quite what I was expecting,” Alton reported. “And they are shifting formation to a … defensive one,” he said.
Jan grunted as she checked the 3D model of the enemy formation. The cruisers had shifted to a layered defense in between the threatening Terran ships and the Tauren battle line. They'd formed a screen but with interlocking lines of fire. Getting missiles through that would be tough.
“Order the bombers and fighters to reload.”
“Ma'am? I thought you wanted a missile pass?” Alton reminded her.
“I did, but they changed my mind,” the admiral replied, waving a hand to the formation. “If we fire missiles, they'll cut them down. Unless we fire missiles at the cruisers. We've only got so many missiles on hand,” she reminded him.
“Aye aye, ma’am. So, you want the wings to punch a hole?”
“Something like that. What I really want is for the wings to soften them up. Hammer the cruisers as I should have done in the first round.”
“That might force them into a retreat, ma'am,” Willard warned.
“At this point I'll take what victory I can get,” Jan replied.
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Adrienne got the word that they were launching again as her fighter touched down. She swore as she taxied to the refueling station. Robotic arms swung down to clean her cockpit windows and plug into her fighter. Techs moved in to check her fighter over as she raised the canopy.
A tech put a boarding ladder up, but she didn't bother to unstrap. She turned her head to check the others, pulling her helmet off in order to wipe at her sweaty brow.
“Here, ma'am,” a Neogorilla red shirt tech said, giving her a sports bottle and towel.
“Thanks,” she muttered as she wiped at her face and then downed the electrolytes quickly. “No time to visit the head,” she said with a grimace.
“No, ma'am. You'll be out of here in a moment. Charging your batteries is taking longer than the refueling,” the tech warned, checking the progress of the rearming.
“I see that,” Adrienne said, watching the fuel gauge rise steadily but the battery charge rise slower. She had drained her capacitors and batteries firing her lasers. “Any word?”
“Not that I know of, ma'am. You might want to check in,” the tech said, pointing to the helmet in Adrienne's lap as she handed her an energy bar.
“Thanks,” Adrienne said again.
“Kick their ass, ma'am,” the gorilla said as she dropped down the ladder.
“I intend to,” Adrienne said as she wolfed down the bar, drained the sports bottle to wash it down, then tossed both over the side to the tech. She put her helmet on and then strapped in as Artoo dropped her cockpit canopy once more.
“All set back there?” she asked.
An image of a dome-shaped robot appeared on her HUD. It spun its dome and then tweeted at her. She snorted. Whoever had coded the thing had one hell of a sense of humor.
“CAG to flight. Anyone wanna clue me in on what is going on? You know, rank is supposed to have some privileges. I hate being the last to know,” she growled.
“Word came down from on high to rearm you, ma'am. This is a last-minute deal,” a chastened tech replied.
“And the mission? I tend to want to plan stuff like that not make it up as I go along,” Adrienne said acidly.
“The mission is to strike the cruisers, Commander,” a new voice intervened.
“Lex?”
“Yes, ma’am. The admiral was waiting for your call but got sidetracked at the last minute.”
“The cruisers?”
“Yes. They have moved out into a screen. The admiral wants to bleed them while you have the opportunity. A missile pass would be counterproductive at this time.”
Adrienne thought about it for a moment, then grunted. “Understood. Any ideas on the enemy fighters?”
“Stay out of their gunsights?” the A.I. replied.
“Cute,” Adrienne muttered as she cut the channel.
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Adrienne knew her people were justifiably nervous the second go around. They had fewer fighters and a third less bombers. She'd ditched the electronic warfare pods on her fighters in exchange for a small drop tank and an extra battery pack. That would give the fighters a bit more loiter time.
“Okay, listen up. Here's the drill. Yeah, I know some of you are pissed about the yo-yo shit. Get over it. We're on the clock. Fighters will clear a path. Bombers will come in. The new targets are the cruisers. They'll be waiting for us, and they've moved into proper screening formations, so watch out for cruisers nearby. They can pick you off just as easily as the one that you are gunning for.”
The silence on the radio was absolute as she paused.
“Each squadron is going to take on one cruiser this time. Concord and Ark Royal are going to do the same at the same time we go in, so this should be fun. Don't step on anyone's toes. Squadron commanders, I want your target choice in five mikes,” she ordered. “I'll send them to the other wings and then to Lexington. First come, first serve, people, so whoever gets it … ah, thank you, Lieutenant Perry. Okay, that's one down …”
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Jan looked at the attack list and nodded. The bombers were being conservative. Each squadron was taking on a single target. They would be firing more or less at the same time, so there might be some overlap, but hopefully, there would be enough battlefield confusion to keep all of the cruisers busy.
Of course, the cruisers were only part of the enemy fleet. That left the battle cruisers and battleships unmolested. There was nothing she could do about that at the moment.
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Dreamer saw the enemy parasite craft come in and the herd's converted shuttles leave the ships to answer them. The Alpha bull was keeping the shuttles on defense, which was good. He'd already noted changes in the enemy's technology since their last encounter. They were ever evolving! It was maddening yet exhilarating as well!
He had already come up with his own version of a fighter design based on the shuttle. By stripping out the cargo bay and shortening the length they would have a fighter nearly half of the ability of the enemy's. It would be a third faster than the converted shuttles yet have the same firepower. Should he try to design a bomber as well? Or should the fighter be strictly for ship defense? He was unsure.
A light on his board blinked yellow, catching his attention. His eyes cut to it before it switched to red, then went back to blinking yellow. He frowned and tapped at it with his fingertip, but it remained unchanged. A check of the system told him there was a problem with a power line to the bow grav emitters. It was intermittent, but he couldn't have that, especially with the battle raging around them. He grabbed his tool kit and a tech bull and went to chase the problem down, his thoughts of the upcoming battle and the fighter design momentarily forgotten.
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“Just as before. We intercept them as far out as possible but stick close to the herd. Do not let them draw you off!” a pilot
warned. “That is what they want. Keep feeding your telemetry to the herd but make sure you rotate channels as instructed. Gunners, watch your fire! Several shots hit the great defender during the last battle! Make sure you have the right target in your sights! If you can't tell the difference, you don't belong out here!” he snarled.
He turned to the scope with a frown. The anti-ship craft were still in the lead, the smaller craft were behind them. “Remember, the anti-ship craft are the true threat,” he warned.
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It was getting to be almost routine, Adrienne thought as they dodged the last round of war shot from the cruisers. She checked her lists and let out a sigh of relief. No casualties that time, which was good, damn good.
Not that she intended to breathe easily, not until all her boys and girls were back in the barn.
“Eli, I don't think they bought the cover, but nice try,” she said, watching through the lead bomber's sensor feed as the converted shuttles moved out to meet them. “Thanks anyway but I think it's time you moved aside,” she ordered.
“Are you saying my butt's too big?” Lieutenant Perry quipped with a grin in her voice as she jinked her bomber from side to side, then moved to the right to allow Adrienne's fighter to slip past and take the lead.
Adrienne sputtered and then snorted. “I'm not saying anything … while you're armed and at my six,” she said wickedly. The banter quickly stopped when the Tauren shuttles began to open fire.
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The Alpha bull grimaced as he noted the enemy parasite craft. The surprise of his converted shuttles was gone. He had already learned that they were fast and adaptable. They obviously had created countermoves to defensive fighters. He had instructed all the shuttles to remain close to the cruisers.