Maxwell Saga 5: Stoke the Flames Higher

by Peter Grant

  “I’m already planning to do that, sir. I’ll pass your congratulations to him and his team. They’ll be very pleased.”

  As he walked over to the mortars, gratefully clutching a steaming mug of coffee, Neilson glanced over at the serried ranks of assault shuttles. The rearmament team was hard at work, reloading missile tubes that had been emptied during the morning’s assaults, refilling reaction mass tanks, and getting them read for a hard fight.

  The shuttle pilots and Weapons System Operators were nowhere to be seen. He knew they’d be in the briefing tent, preparing for a hard fight. Any Kotai small craft making it past the warships in space would have to fight its way down to the planet’s surface. The shuttles would hover at the top of the troposphere, searching for incoming traffic and targeting it with their missiles and plasma cannon. All local traffic had been grounded, so anything moving in the stratosphere or mesosphere could be killed on sight without worrying about hitting innocent people.

  He smiled nastily. This fight had started out badly for the Fleet, and might still go hard in space… but thanks to their early warning, despite painful losses yesterday, the ground forces had cut the Kotai’s reception committees to pieces. Now to do the same to their unwelcome guests.

  —————

  ATHI SYSTEM – DEVAKAI PATROL CRAFT SHALYA – 08:00

  Lieutenant Vellala led his crew in their morning prayers, asking Kodan Sastagan’s blessing on their endeavors, reminding him of his promise to those who fell in combat in his service, and calling down curses and maledictions upon their enemies. They ended in a shouted battle cry of triumph.

  Feeling spiritually renewed, the Lieutenant sat down at his command console once more. His eyes ranged over the plot. He needed to be four million kilometers from the destroyers, at 09:00 precisely, if his plan was to work. He calculated distances and separations carefully, and added two per cent more power to the reaction thrusters. That should do it, he thought to himself.

  He called the Engineering section. “Make sure the gravitic drive is on line and in top form,” he reminded the Chief Engine Room Artificer. “Everything depends on you if our plan is to succeed.”

  “I won’t fail you, Sir, or the Incarnate God,” the NCO replied firmly – perhaps even a little reproachfully, Vellala thought with a smile, as if he was annoyed that his commanding officer might doubt his competence after they’d served so long together aboard the same ship.

  “Very well. May your faith be rewarded.”

  “And yours, sir.”

  —————

  VELLALORE ORBIT – LCS PICKLE – 08:00

  Steve got up from his chair at the Command console and stretched, feeling the tension in his muscles. It was going to be a long day, possibly a dangerous one if the Kotai had any more tricks up their sleeves. Pickle’s crew had been at General Quarters since 06:00, and would stay that way until the fighting was over. All of the ships orbiting Vellalore were doing the same, just in case.

  He sat down again, ran some system checks, finding everything in working order, then scanned through the feed from the various consoles. All were operating normally.

  “Command to EW. Have you collected emissions profiles on all the ships in the system?”

  “EW to Command, no, sir.” The operator’s voice sounded chastened.

  “Command to EW, you know better than that. We want to vacuum up every single snippet of information we can get, no matter where we are. You never know when the Fleet might not need one of those readings to identify a strange ship. We have our own ships’ profiles on record, of course, but not those of the Bihar destroyers or their depot ship. We’ll treat this as a training opportunity. Start by taking a profile of the hospital ship. Compare the one you compile to the Fleet database, to make sure your sensors are getting everything important, and getting it right. If they are, start on the Bihar ships.”

  “EW to Command, aye aye, sir.”

  The intercom on his console buzzed. He pressed a button. “Command, go ahead.”

  “Sir, this is Senior Chief Aznar. Miss Soldahl requests permission to come to the bridge. She’d like to observe the day’s action in the Plot, and ask questions about whatever goes on.”

  Steve thought for a moment. So far, Solveig appeared to have kept her word about cooperating with him and his crew. “Very well, Senior Chief. Please have one of your damage control party escort her from the passenger quarters to the bridge.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Within ten minutes the journalist came through the door, nodding first to Steve, then to everyone else. They were accustomed to her visits by now, so she was greeted with a few smiles and a couple of waves. She crossed to the guest chairs beside the command console and settled into one of them, fastening her harness.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered as she activated her vid recorder.

  “Nothing much. They’re coming. We know they’re coming. They know we know they’re coming. Now it’s like a long-drawn out game of chess. They have to try to draw off our covering forces, make us open gaps in our screen through which their ground forces can reach the planet. We have to block them, and be ready for anything, and respond to it as required. It’s going to be a long, very tense, very dangerous day.”

  “Dangerous for us, too?”

  “I doubt it. We should be well out of the way here. Still, anything can happen – and these Kotai have proven themselves resourceful enough to make it happen. That’s why the ship’s at General Quarters. We – hold it!”

  He held up his hand and turned away from her, towards the Plot, as a buzzer sounded and an icon was displayed. The operator announced, “Plot to Command. Unidentified gravitic drive signature bearing 284:032, sir.”

  “Command to Plot, designate that Target Alpha and track it. Break. Communications, send that to OrbCon, and transmit any cross-bearings to the Plot the moment they come in.”

  Both stations acknowledged as Solveig leaned forward. “What do you mean, cross-bearings?” she asked softly.

  “All our ships are listening for emissions like that. Each of us will note its bearing, then send that to Orbcon. They’ll plot all of them in their big Plot tank. The point in space where those bearings cross will be the location of the ship making those emissions. That will give us its range as well as bearing. From there, we can decide what to do about it.”

  As he finished speaking, several chimes sounded from the Communications console. The operator didn’t bother to report, but forwarded the incoming signals to the Plot, which threw them up in the three-dimensional display. The icon shifted position.

  “Plot to Command, Target Alpha is thirty-seven light-minutes from us. Awaiting updated cross-bearings to calculate its course and velocity.”

  “Command to Plot, got it. Break. Command to EW, analyze that drive signature and see whether we’ve got it in our database.”

  “EW to Command, already doing that, sir. Looks like a standard merchant ship drive, without the harmonics that a high-performance drive produces. Tentative assumption is that it’s the Kotai mother ship, sir.”

  “Command to EW, I concur. Break. Command to Communications, send EW’s diagnostics to OrbCon.”

  “Communications to Command, aye aye, sir.”

  Solveig whispered, “Why do you always preface your words with ‘Command to so-and-so’, and they do the same?”

  “Think of the confusion in a combat situation. You might have half a dozen consoles reporting at the same time, plus damage control reports coming in from the rest of the ship. It can be bedlam. By forcing everyone to use that procedure, we keep a lid on the confusion. It doesn’t always work – I’ve seen times where things descended into semi-organized chaos for a while – but in general it helps us maintain our situational awareness. If you lose that, the sense of what’s going on all around you and what everyone’s doing, you can lose the ship before you know it.”

  She shivered. “I’m very glad you train that way, then. I –”

/>   The Plot operator interrupted her. “Plot to Command, Target Alpha’s emissions have ceased, sir.”

  Almost at once, another call came. “Communications to Command, signal from OrbCon, sir.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, the operator put it through to Steve. He opened it on his console’s display, read it, and nodded.

  “Command to all consoles. OrbCon thinks those emissions were intended to distract us, to draw off elements of the destroyer patrol line while other Kotai vessels sneak through. I concur.”

  “How can they be sure this is a distraction?” the journalist asked.

  “That ship isn’t armed, as far as we know. She was also half a light-hour from any of our ships when she showed herself, so even if she was armed, she was no threat to them. No, they’re trailing their coat, trying to tempt us to go after them; but that would pull us out of our positions, and let their small craft through. We’ll watch to see if she pops up again. If it looks as if she might get close to a likely target, our ships can investigate and block her if necessary.”

  “Target? But she’s a freighter, not a warship. How can she target anything?”

  Steve looked at her grimly. “How do you know they haven’t installed missiles aboard her? We can’t be sure. Also, look up the Ariadne Accords, and why they were drafted and signed two centuries ago. Next, see what Constandt de Bouff tried to do at Rolla a few years ago. Finally, look at what happened to the capital of Laredo when the Bactrians invaded. Put all those together, and you’ll understand some of the possibilities.”

  She half-smiled. “You’re going to make me work for my living, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, someone has to!”

  “All right. I’ll get to work.” She took out her comm unit. After being cleared by the ship’s security staff, it had been authorized for limited, very restricted access to Pickle’s information systems, including the Commonwealth Encyclopedia. Pulling up an article, she began reading.

  —————

  ATHI SYSTEM – DEVAKAI PATROL CRAFT SHALYA – 08:58

  “It didn’t work, Sir.” The Ensign’s voice was doleful.

  “No, it didn’t,” Lieutenant Vellala agreed with a sigh, “but it was a long shot. Our enemies aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t have taken long to realize that Captain Palli was offering himself as an inviting target, and they know that if they leave a gap in their patrol line, our small craft will take full advantage of it. They’re staying in formation.”

  “So it’s up to us to make a gap for our people, sir?”

  “That’s right, Ensign. It’s up to us now. Make sure your harness is tight, and stand by. We’re going in.” He pressed the intercom button. “Commanding Officer to crew. Our time has come. Remember the promises of the Incarnate God, and strike home in his name!”

  Faintly, he heard renewed cheers from his spacers, and glowed with renewed pride in them. He allowed himself one last, faintly regretful thought of the lovely woman he’d left behind on Devakai. I would have made you a good husband, Minakshi, but you would not believe in the Incarnate God. I hope, when Kodan Sastagan’s triumph becomes apparent, you’ll follow him. When you learn what I did in his name, I hope you’ll rejoice, and burn incense for my soul. Perhaps, if karma allows it, we may become husband and wife in a future incarnation.

  He poised his finger above the gravitic drive controls. As the time display clicked over to 09:00 local time, he stabbed it downward.

  —————

  ATHI SYSTEM – BIHAR CONFEDERATION DESTROYER BINDUSARA – 09:00

  “Plot to Command, gravitic drive signature bearing 077:043, classified as Devakai patrol craft!”

  Commander Korrapati sat bolt upright at the Command console as he heard the warning. Mentally he blessed the two Commonwealth ships that had survived yesterday’s engagement. They had shared their recordings of the gravitic drive signatures and other emissions from the Devakai vessels that had been destroyed. That allowed all the UP ships to instantly identify any emissions from the surviving enemy patrol craft.

  “Command to Plot, designate target as Ek, get cross-bearings from the other ships as fast as you can.”

  “Plot to Command, aye, sir.”

  He grinned wryly to himself. It was all very well to designate the target as ‘One’ in Hindi, but the word was pronounced in a similar way to Galactic Standard English’s startled expression, ‘eek’. That was funny – and not inappropriate, in the light of yesterday’s events.

  “Plot to Command, cross-bearings show range to Target Ek is four million kilometers and closing, sir.”

  Before he could reply, there came another call. “EW to Command, she’s using full power on her drive, sir. Looks like she’s heading straight towards us.”

  “Command to Plot and EW, acknowledged. Weapons, plot a firing pattern for our missiles and stand by.”

  The Commander turned to his Executive Officer with a frown. “This makes no sense. Their missiles have a range of just two million kilometers. Why would they reveal themselves at double that distance? They’re sitting ducks for our weapons, yet they can’t shoot back!”

  Lieutenant-Commander Misra’s normally genial features creased in a worried frown. “Sir, after yesterday, I wouldn’t expect them to make an elementary mistake like that. This smells like a trap.”

  “I think you’re right. I –”

  “Communications to Command, signal from Captain Kulkarni, sir. Bindusara and Dasharatha remain on patrol line. Salishuka will intercept. Bindusara take control until I return.”

  Misra cursed softly. “He’s hogging all the glory for himself, sir!”

  “That’s his prerogative,” Korrapati gently rebuked his subordinate. “He’s the Divisional Commanding Officer, remember?”

  “Yes, sir, but this grates!”

  “Never mind. There are more enemies out there.” He raised his voice. “Command to Plot and EW. This may be some sort of trap or diversion, like that earlier gravitic drive signature. Be on your guard, and pay close attention to your sensors. I don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

  “Plot to Command, aye, sir.” “EW to Command, aye, sir.” The responses came in unison.

  They watched in the Plot as Salishuka surged forward out of her patrol position, turning to head straight for the enemy. Misra asked incredulously, “Why is he going to meet him? His missiles can hit him from here!”

  “I don’t know, Exec.” The Commander’s voice betrayed his own unease. “I wouldn’t have done that, if I were in his shoes… but I’m not.”

  Within seconds, missile traces began to appear over the icon representing Salishuka in the Plot. They multiplied rapidly, spearing upward, nosing over as their gravitic drives came online, then arrowing forward towards their target. In response, even though she was still out of range, the Devakai patrol craft began launching her own missiles. First one, then a second, then a third lifted from her hull.

  “The enemy’s firing awfully slowly, sir,” Misra pointed out. “Her sister ships fired their missiles a lot faster than that yesterday, when they killed those four Commonwealth patrol craft.”

  “Yes, they did – what the hell?”

  Korrapati jumped to his feet as new gravitic drive signatures suddenly sprang to life in the Plot. They came out of nowhere, no more than a quarter of a million kilometers ahead of Salishuka, and streaked towards her at a high rate of acceleration – higher than any spaceship would be able to attain.

  “Plot to Command, twelve missile tracks closing on Salishuka, sir!” the operator called, despair in his voice. Like all of them, he knew to within a second or two how long it would take a destroyer to detect and classify incoming threats, cease firing her main battery missiles, switch to defensive missiles, program them with the location of the incoming enemy weapons, and fire them. It would be chaos in Salishuka’s OpCen right now. She had been mousetrapped, as neatly and as lethally as the patrol craft the day before.

  They watched, horror-struck, as the Kotai missiles c
losed in remorselessly. The first defensive missiles took out a couple of them, and the destroyer’s laser clusters a couple more, but they had been fired from far too close a range, and with far too little warning, to allow more than a perfunctory defense. They screamed in and began to detonate, their bomb-pumped laser warheads tearing at the Bihar ship, ripping great holes in her hull and through her internal systems.

  Korrapati noticed with almost clinical detachment that each warhead was launching only three beams, rather than the intense cone of two or three dozen beams fired by more modern missiles. The destroyer was four times as large as the Commonwealth patrol craft, so she could absorb more damage than they had yesterday… but all the incoming missiles were aimed at her alone. They weren’t divided between four targets.

  Salishuka’s gravitic drive went offline with deadly suddenness, suggesting it or its wiring harness had taken a direct hit. The Commander knew that inside her hull, many of her crew would be choking and gasping and flailing and dying as her atmosphere vented to vacuum. Only those who were already in spacesuits, like the damage control team, or who could reach lifeboats in time, would be safe.

  The last warhead exploded, its starburst icon fading in the Plot display. The icon representing Salishuka hung inert in space. Suddenly two new icons joined it as lifeboats launched from the stricken destroyer. As they did so, the first of Salishuka’s missiles reached the distant Devakai patrol craft and exploded. Korrapati watched in the Plot display as it vanished in a rash of starburst icons. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he realized the enemy had done it again. They’d traded an old, obsolete patrol craft for a modern destroyer at least ten times as powerful.