by Peter Grant
Neilson nodded. “I’m getting reports from Athi forces listening in to Kotai transmissions. They’re exhorting each other to ‘die for the Incarnate God’, by which I suppose they mean this Kodan Sastagan of theirs. They’re also reminding each other there are reinforcements coming, including armored troops, so they’ve got to stop us consolidating to receive their attack. They want us divided, weak and helpless. It looks as if your friend Maxwell’s warning was right on the money. What about your casualties?”
“Six so far, sir; two dead, four seriously injured. Our armor protects us from minor wounds, but anything powerful enough to penetrate it causes a lot of damage.”
“You’ve done very well. That’s the second attack you’ve helped to fend off so far. Another hour and we’ll have everyone together; then we can prepare to give the Kotai a bloody nose when they try to land.”
A jarring alarm buzzer sounded from the communications annex, and a staff sergeant thrust his head through the opening. “Sir, Firebase Charlie reports that Kotai forces are massing in the town. They’re expelling all the locals, then taking cover in the empty buildings. Our people are picking up radio traffic that the Kotai intend to wipe out the Athi survivors. They’re calling them ‘the faithless wives and Godless spawn of traitors’, sir.”
Brooks and Neilson looked at each other in horror. Most of the wives and children of Athi armed forces personnel who’d died in earlier operations against the Kotai had moved to Firebase Charlie, to live under the protection of a company of Athi forces and a platoon of Marines. Almost a thousand of the survivors lived in a walled and fenced extension of the town, next to the firebase.
“If the Kotai get in among them, it’ll be a bloodbath, sir!” Brooks exclaimed, his weariness evaporating in the rush of adrenaline caused by the news.
“Get over there as fast as you can,” Neilson ordered. “I’ll round up all the shuttles that have arrived so far, and send them after you to evacuate the civilians. You concentrate on the fighting.”
“Will do, sir.”
Brooks half-saluted, spun on his heel and dashed out, running hard for his two shuttles and the surviving members of his reaction force. Halfway there, he cursed and changed direction. If the Kotai had already taken over the rest of the town, they’d have cover and concealment against the Marines’ personal weapons. The mission would need heavier fire support. He’d better make sure Warrant Officer Tamagant was ready to give him everything he’d got.
—————
ATHI SYSTEM – LCS PICKLE
“Navigator to Command. We’re one hour from orbital insertion, sir.”
“Command to Navigator, aye. Commence braking maneuver.”
“Navigator to Command, commence braking maneuver, aye aye, sir.”
Steve watched, restraining himself from taking over, letting Abrams get the experience instead. That was still the best way to teach junior officers. Simulator sessions could never match the stress and tension of the real thing. He smiled to himself as he recalled his own trepidation as a junior Navigating Officer. Maneuvers that he now performed as casually as breathing had seemed far more difficult and complex, the first time he’d tried them.
Pickle turned end over end, to face away from Vellalore. Her gravitic drive went to full power, slowing her backward rush. By the time she arrived at the moon, she would be moving slowly enough to slide easily into orbit around it.
“Command to Navigator. Maneuver well executed.”
Steve could hear the suppressed pride and pleasure in Abrams’ voice as the Junior Lieutenant solemnly replied, “Navigator to Command, thank you, sir.” He was sure he heard at least one subdued chuckle from another console on the bridge, but he ignored it. They’d all been novices once, and felt the same pride in their fledgling accomplishments.
“Command to Plot. Status update, please.”
“Plot to Command. Six patrol craft are three light-hours from Athi, forming a screen across the enemy line of approach. They’ve reported faint, as-yet-unclassified gravitic drive emissions along the bearing. The four Bihar Confederation destroyers are forming an inner screen, one light-hour from Athi, also across the line of approach. Two patrol craft are inbound from the far side of the system. They should reach Athi orbit within two hours, and will intercept any Kotai forces that get through the outer and inner screens. They – wait one, sir… Sir, the outer screen is launching missiles!”
Steve surged to his feet and strode across to the Plot display, staring into the three-dimensional tank. Dotted lines spread outward from the six Lancastrian patrol craft, heading towards four gravitic drive signatures that had appeared several million kilometers ahead of them. He knew that thermonuclear bomb-pumped laser warheads were poised at the tip of each line.
December 6, 2851 GSC, 06:30 – 12:00
ATHI SYSTEM – DEVAKAI PATROL CRAFT BHISHMA
“Here comes the last of the drones, sir.” The Ensign at the plot display pointed to a dot drifting away from the merchant ship.
“I see it,” Lieutenant Anandkumar Palli said absently, his eyes drinking in the unprecedented number of icons. He’d never seen so many in a Plot display in his life. Forty assault shuttles carrying a thousand troops, half of whom were armored; fifteen cargo shuttles, each carrying a hundred and sixty Kotai; nine cutters, each with forty-five Kotai aboard; the four patrol craft, two of which had already deployed their drones ready for use; and two more drones, borrowed from the two patrol craft taken into the Kalla shipyard at Devakai for maintenance.
Behind the swarm of small icons loomed a much larger one; his father’s freighter. She had already accomplished the major part of her mission by delivering them all to the Athi system. However, if it should become necessary, she still had one last job to do. He knew his father would not flinch from the responsibility. A tidal wave of love and respect for him rose within the Lieutenant’s breast. What an example of faithful service you’ve set for us all, Father! he thought. Truly, the Incarnate God will be pleased with you!
He reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the Plot display, and ran his eyes over the lights and screens on his command console. The sixteen main battery missiles were each showing green on the board. Kalla technicians had extracted each of the old, outdated weapons from its launch tube, serviced its gravitic drive and targeting systems, and made sure its bomb-pumped laser warhead was in the best possible condition. They might be old, with limited capabilities, but if used skillfully, they could still damage and destroy enemy ships. He and the other patrol craft commanding officers had practiced such attacks time and time again in the training tank, varying their tactics, trying different approaches, selecting those that offered the greatest possibility of success.
He savored the memory of their hard, dedicated training, and mentally vowed, We’re ready to fight hard for you, Kodan Sastagan! We shall not fail you! We shall do your will, as you’ve commanded us! Remember us this day, even if we forget you in the heat of battle!
His fierce thoughts were interrupted by a chime on the patrol craft division’s tight-beam network. All four ships were linked by laser beams, which could not be intercepted by anyone not in line-of-sight to them. The voice of Lieutenant-Commander Wodda, aboard his patrol craft Drona, crackled over the speaker.
“Division Commander to Bhishma and Shalya. Proceed with your missions. May the Incarnate God be with you, and bless you with success! Over.”
He clicked his microphone. “Bhishma to Division Commander. I hear and obey, sir. May the Incarnate God accept your sacrifice, and crown it with victory. Out.”
The speaker crackled again. “Shalya to Division Commander. I hear and obey, sir. May all the gods bless you and your crew. Out.”
“Division Commander to Karna. It’s time for us to earn the reward promised us by the Incarnate God. I’ll take control of the drones. Follow me as planned. Over.”
“Karna to Division Commander, understood, over.”
“Division Commander to all ships. Emission
silence from now on. Out.”
Lieutenant Palli watched in the Plot display as Drona turned slowly towards the waiting screen of enemy patrol craft, Karna beside her, both using only their reaction thrusters to avoid giving away their positions. Lieutenant-Commander Wodda sent the four drones – Drona’s, Karna’s, and the two from the dockyard – out ahead of the ships, using their gravitic drives at minimum power level. They were radiating the same emissions signatures as the patrol craft, and taking up a standard two-by-two formation. He would take the two real patrol craft down to well below the drones, then move ahead of them while the enemy concentrated all his attention on the fourfold distraction.
He turned back to his console. Devakai’s antiquated patrol craft had only two consoles in their diminutive Operations Centers; Command, and Plot. Navigation, Weapons, Communications and other functions were all run from the Command station. That overloaded the Commanding Officer, even with the assistance of his console operators, but there was no help for it. They had no modern warships, so they would have to make do with their older ones.
He pressed a switch, and his voice went out over the intercom to every part of the ship. “Command to crew. We’re heading out to strike our blow for the Incarnate God. Purge your minds of every thought except your duty!”
—————
ATHI SYSTEM – DEVAKAI MERCHANT SHIP VARAHA
Captain Palli watched in his much larger Plot display as the dozens of icons around his ship began to drift apart. He smiled in satisfaction. By the time they reached the patrol line, they would be scattered over tens of millions of cubic kilometers, scorching past the enemy ships at one-tenth of the speed of light, leaving no emissions signature that could be tracked. Some might be detected and destroyed, but many more would get through, and head towards the planet.
He controlled his emotions rigidly as he watched his son’s patrol craft turn to port and move away from the others, along with her consort. Their fight would come later. For now, just like his own ship, they would avoid contact with the enemy.
He turned to his Navigator. “All right, Lieutenant Paraiya. Let’s get out of everyone’s way.”
The Lieutenant responded, “Aye aye, sir,” as he pressed controls on his console. With a rumble, Varaha’s big maneuvering reaction thrusters swung out of their housings at the bow and stern of the ship, swiveling to face upward and slightly to one side. They roared to life, their vibration rippling through the hull, pushing the freighter downwards and to starboard.
Palli smiled, recalling all the times they’d run this exercise in the SPS simulator at Devakai. They’d used it after working hours, erasing every trace of what they’d practiced so that no-one except the conspirators would be the wiser. If everything worked as planned, by the time the two patrol craft and their drones were detected by the enemy, Varaha should be so far below and to one side that, with luck, she would slip past unnoticed, disappearing into the vastness of space. As long as she made no emissions that could be tracked, and stayed out of range of enemy warships’ active sensors, she should remain undetected.
He frowned as he considered the possibility that their mission might have been betrayed. The fact that United Planets ships were positioned to intercept them suggested that… but it seemed vanishingly unlikely. It was not impossible that, by sheer bad luck, they had run headlong into an enemy exercise. However, even if they’d lost the advantage of surprise, they could still win this fight.
He shook his head in renewed amazement at the Incarnate God’s prescience. Kodan Sastagan had warned them that the forces of evil might seek to interfere with this operation. He’d commanded them to develop alternative plans and tactics that would accomplish his will and purpose in other ways. This maneuver was one of them.
It remained to be seen whether he and Varaha would need to perform another.
—————
ATHI SYSTEM – LCS COPPERHEAD
Senior Lieutenant Watson looked at the Plot display. The four small, wavering gravitic drive signatures were growing stronger as they approached. They were still moving at only one-tenth of light speed. Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell had provided performance data for the Devakai ships, suggesting they could move at twice that velocity if they had to – much less than the one-third Cee capability of his modern Serpent class vessel, but about right for century-old patrol craft from a galactic backwater. For a moment, he frowned, wondering why they weren’t using all their performance… then he relaxed. Their antiquated sensors and fire control systems probably couldn’t handle relativistic motion and Lorentz transformation very well. Both were inevitable complications when moving at significant fractions of light speed. That would explain their slower approach.
A light came on above his comm handset, indicating a call on the squadron tight-beam laser network. He picked it up, put it to his ear, and waited as a series of clicks indicated other Commanding Officers coming online.
“Squadron Commander to all ships. The enemy vessels are now at seven million kilometers’ range. They’re old and antiquated, with inferior weapons, so I think four of us can handle them. The other two can tackle the small craft that are spreading out, trying to get past us. Copperhead, take Rinkhals under your control and use your active sensors to intercept and destroy as many of them as you can. Use your defensive laser clusters only – a small craft isn’t worth the cost of a main battery missile. Boa, Mamba and Python, stand by to take firing directions from my ship. We’ll fire together when the enemy ships reach five million kilometers’ range. Their own missiles have an effective powered range of only two million kilometers, so we should be able to destroy them all before they can return fire. Acknowledge in sequence. Over.”
He clicked on his microphone when his turn came. “Copperhead to Squadron Commander, acknowledged. Question, please, sir. What if the small craft try to surrender? Over.”
“Squadron Commander to Copperhead. If they shut down their drives and activate their locator beacons at once, accept their surrender. If there’s any delay, or any refusal to cooperate, destroy them immediately. Over.”
“Copperhead to Squadron Commander, understood, over.”
He waited while the other ships acknowledged their orders, then spoke again. “Copperhead to Rinkhals. You take the port side and above. I’ll take the starboard side and below. Let’s go. Over.”
“Rinkhals to Copperhead, understand port and above, aye aye. Sheering off now. Over.”
“Copperhead to Rinkhals, good hunting. Out.”
He put down the handset, looking across the Operations Centre. “Command to EW, start looking for targets. Focus our active arrays downward and to starboard, and let’s see who’s coming to dinner.” A nervous chuckle ran around the OpCen.
Three icons popped up on the short-range Plot display almost immediately. He designated them Alpha, Bravo and Charlie, and turned his ship towards the closest. It was emitting no signature of any kind, but from its apparent size, it was either an assault shuttle or a cutter.
“Command to Communications, call on target Alpha to surrender, using the standard interplanetary distress frequency.”
“Communications to Command, aye aye, sir.”
Three times they called, and three times were met with silence. Finally he called, “Command to Weapons. Weapons free on target Alpha.”
“Weapons to Command, weapons free on Alpha, aye aye, sir.”
There was a momentary pause, then a slight dimming of the lights in the OpCen as one of the ship’s four laser clusters fired. From only fifty thousand kilometers away, its powerful beam sliced through the target like a hot knife through butter. There was a distant explosion as the small vessel’s fusion micro-reactor exploded, wiping it out and killing everyone aboard in a blaze of thermonuclear plasma. Its icon in the Plot fuzzed into a starburst, then faded.
“Command to Weapons, good shooting. Break. Command to Communications, make a general call to all Kotai vessels in the vicinity, demanding their surrender. Tell
them to activate their beacons and cut their drives. If they don’t, there will be no more second chances. From now on, if we see a non-complying target, we’ll shoot at it without warning.”
The call went out, repeated three times, but again with no response.
“Very well, Command to Weapons, weapons free on all targets within range. Plot, designate new targets as EW acquires them. It’s open season and there’s no bag limit.”
“EW to Command, our ships have fired, sir!” Ensign White’s voice was excited.
“Command to Plot, change to long range display. Let’s watch this.”
“Plot to Command, long range, aye aye, sir.”
Everyone in the OpCen craned to see the missile traces reaching out from the four Serpent class ships towards the four Athi vessels. It looked as if Commander Belknap had allocated only ten missiles to each of them, reserving half his ships’ warloads against possible future need.
Suddenly White shouted, almost screaming, “Active sensor emissions sir! It’s –”
The Plot suddenly showed two new icons, no more than half a million kilometers ahead of and below the four Commonwealth vessels, and well ahead of the four at which they were shooting. Almost instantly, missile traces appeared above the new vessels, racing upward towards the underbellies of Copperhead’s squadron-mates.
“It’s a trap!” Watson exclaimed aloud, forgetting OpCen procedure. “Those four targets must be drones! We concentrated on them like fat, happy dumbasses, while they sneaked in below them – and now they’ve fired at point-blank range!”
The enemy missiles were more than halfway to their targets before more traces of missile fire began to appear above the Commonwealth patrol craft – and that was itself an indicator of the problem. The vessels had not had time to change their orientation. The main battery missiles they were firing at the enemy patrol craft, and the defensive missiles aimed at their incoming weapons, were all ejected upward from their launch tubes by mass drivers. Once fired, they had to coast until they were clear of the ship’s gravitic drive field. Only then could they activate their own drives, turn around, and aim downward towards their targets. That took time… time they did not have, at such desperately short range. Defense would be up to the laser clusters.