by Nate Johnson
“But don’t these projectiles have to hit their target also?” she asked.
“Yes, but these can’t be stopped. A missile has both electronics for flight control and fuel for thrust. Both of those can make them easier to destroy with either laser or another missile. Our babies here,” he said as he patted the metal ball, “nothing can stop them. It’d take a week to melt them, and there is no fuel to ignite. Nope, once these things are launched, nothing stops them. Not until they tear through anything in their way and out the other side.”
“What about lasers?” Janet asked. “The Lieutenant said we have two of them.”
“Yes, Ma’am. One up front, one aft. They can transverse three hundred and sixty degrees. Hit anything. But lasers won’t work against an Imperial cruiser. Oh, they might punch a couple of holes in us, but not many. They’d have to find a chink in our reflective coating and then burn through the armor. Not going to happen easily.”
“The Mesquite though, it was destroyed,” she said, thinking back to that awful video she had been shown in the Emperor’s meeting.
The chief's eyes grew misty for a second as he took on a faraway look. “I was stationed on the Mesquite right out of boot camp. That ship was old even then. She was a tender, thin-skinned with more bumps and bruises than a Valerian tavern bouncer. A ton of weak points for a laser to punch through. Believe me, we won’t be so easy.”
“What if they have rail guns like us?” she asked as her stomach turned over. She could well imagine the carnage one of these projectiles could cause at Mach-five. It’d rip through the ship, leaving a wake of twisted metal, deadly splinters, and horrible deaths in its path.
The Chief shrugged his shoulders. “Hit them before they hit us. Isn’t that always what it comes down to Ma’am. Kill them before they kill us.”
She studied the man for a quick second. Kill or be killed. It was that simple to him and his men. They had a job to do, if they did it well they would survive. If not, they would die and the empire might very well fall. But these men would be dead and never see the results of their failure.
“Thank you, Chief Kennedy,” she said with a sad smile. “I will leave you to it then. I just wanted to say thank you to you and your men. I know how important you are and someday, the entire galaxy will know what you men did to save them.”
The spacers around her smiled from ear to ear. She imagined it was rare for someone outside their fraternity to recognize their contribution.
“Yes Ma’am, thank you, Ma’am.”
Janet smiled, “I have a meeting with Admiral McKenzie in a few minutes. Is there anything he needs to know? Any problem that needs to be fixed? Supplies you need and aren’t getting?”
The chief looked back at her for a long second and slowly shook his head, “No Ma’am. We don’t need nothing but targets, Ma’am. You can tell the Admiral that Battery B has all it needs and will do whatever he asks. He can rely on that.”
She smiled, it was nice to see someone so sure of himself and his men. “Thank you again, chief. I will tell him. In the meantime, I will let you get back to your work. I am sorry for interrupting.”
“No problem Ma’am,” the chief said. “And when this is over, back on Taurus, if you ever get to the Blue Bird, it’s a small bar in old town. Tell them Chief Kennedy and his boys sent you. They will treat you to a round on us. It’s the least we can do for a fellow shipmate.”
Janet had to bite back a quick tear. These men meant it and she realized they had just given her the highest compliment they could. Shipmate.
“Thank you, chief, gentleman,” she said as she turned to hurry out of the compartment. It wouldn’t do for them to see their shipmate with a tear in her eye.
By the time she had made it back to the command center, she had composed herself and was ready for the meeting.
Admiral McKenzie, Mac, she reminded herself, stood before the wall of monitors. Almost every screen held a ship’s captain staring back, waiting for the meeting to start. She noticed that several were blank and realized that Admiral Weber and his transport captains were not there. And on the Marine screen, a colonel that she did not recognize looked as if he’d walked into a hornet's nest.
The man was in full armor, his faceplate up, a nasty scorch mark across his forehead. A distant grassland behind him told her he was on the planet Intrepid.
She felt her brow furrow in confusion. What was happening on the planet? she wondered.
“General Smyth is dead,” Commander Evans said as he slipped up next to her. “As is General Brady. That’s Colonel Stevenson, third in command, chief of staff.”
Janet’s stomach clenched up into a tight ball. People were dying, people she knew personally. This was no longer some abstract study. This was real.
“Gentleman,” Admiral McKenzie said, “and Ms. Sinclair,” he added with a small nod of his head, just for her. “As you all know, the Marines on Intrepid are having a rough go of it. The Scraggs were better equipped than we thought. Especially with anti-air capability. We could very well lose the planet, or at least everything worth saving on it. We need to end this damn chase and get back to them.”
The faces on the monitors stared back with stony silence. She knew that those on the distant Intrepid were waiting for the signal to arrive. But the captains of the fleet had certainly heard almost instantly. Yet, they simply stared. Waiting for the word.
Taking a deep breath, Mac continued. “On my mark, we will increase speed and move in alongside them. I had hoped to cross their T. But they aren’t going to give us the opportunity. Besides, to do so would add a full day to the return trip to Intrepid. Instead, we will come in alongside them. It is imperative we finish them off before they reach their jump point.”
Janet’s stomach tightened up. This was it. There would be no turning back, once they engaged. It would be a fight to the death. Mac had repeatedly told her that he could not retreat. This battle could only result in success or death.
“I believe they will have to slow down before they get there,” Mac continued. “They are going too fast at the moment. The risk of missing their mark is too great. We will have to slow down as well if we hope to have any accuracy with our guns. We need to match their speed when we open fire.”
“Sir,” one of the captains said. “Won’t that end up putting strength against strength? Wouldn’t it make more sense to outmaneuver them? Try again for that T crossing.”
“We don’t have the time,” the Admiral said. “We are only going to get one chance at this. If they jump, we lose them and we don’t have any idea where they will end up, or when they will be back. We can’t follow them. At least I don’t believe we can. Not yet. So, we’ve got to finish them off now before they escape. If we don’t, they might very well show up in orbit around Taurus next week.”
Most of the captains nodded their agreement.
“So, we’ve laid out the course corrections and speed reductions we will need to take. Your crews have the details. My estimates are that we will fire our first shot within the hour. Are there any questions.”
Janet’s insides fluttered with fear. An hour, this would all start within the hour. Suddenly the world seemed strange, fuzzy, her heart began to pound and her mind reeled. She looked at Mac for a long second. The man looked as solid as a rock. Not an ounce of doubt, not an iota of worry. But she knew otherwise. He might appear stoic and confident. But she knew the man, too many late night discussions about tactics, strategy, and logistics.
No, the man was worried. He had to be. Who wouldn’t be nervous? The fate of the entire empire rested on his shoulders.
Chapter Fourteen
Admiral McKenzie studied the screen one last time. The fleets were coming together just as he had planned. The Imperial Navy had cut them off and his ships were coming up alongside of them. Of course, it was all relative. Right now. they were separated by thousands of miles. But that would steadily decrease to hundreds.
Studying his own fleet, he had to sm
ile. Twenty-two ships. Three cruisers, the Churchill in the van; the Roosevelt, in the middle; and, the Chow next to last, each with forty guns. Eighteen destroyers, sixteen guns each, plus their dart ships. And the Pine bringing up the rear. Ready to swoop in and pick up survivors if necessary.
He thought about the dart ships on the destroyers. They had worked well in phase two. But he couldn’t use them here. It’d take too long to pick them up. Better to keep them in reserve. Buried in the bellies of their host destroyers. He’d use them if he got the chance, but not yet.
The twenty-five alien ships looked sleek and menacing. Their giant battleship up front leading the way, trailed by twenty-four identical, much smaller vessels. What did they have? What were their capabilities?
He sighed heavily. In a few minutes, his part in this story would come to an end. His staff, the captains and their crews, they would be the ones who determined if the fleet succeeded or not.
He glanced over at Janet. She smiled back at him, silently encouraging him.
This was it. Nodding to her, he returned her smile, then switched on the fleet broadcast channel.
“Servicemen of the fleet,” he began, “we are about to enter the third phase of this battle. I know you will perform well. We have trained and practiced. We have the strongest weapons and you are the best crews in the galaxy. Do your job, and all will be well. Good luck, and happy hunting.”
Signing off, he turned to his command staff, “Gentlemen, prepare to execute phase three on my command.”
Every face in the room turned to watch their Admiral, their fingers hovering over their computer to start the battle once he gave the word.
Taking a deep breath, he paused, then said, “Execute.”
Looking down at the sensor screen showing the fleet, he knew very well what was happening. Weapons were being run out, loaded, and sightings being taken. Ships were closing with each other. Bunching up, to provide more concentrated firepower. Men were nervously checking and rechecking their sensors. Doctors were preparing their surgeries. And there wasn’t a thing he could do to make any of it go easier.
Men were going to die today, he realized. Die because of the orders he had given. But, it was either that, or the enemy would enslave his people. Those they did not kill right away would live in fear and pain. This must not be allowed to happen. And if every man under him died today, if they defeated the enemy, then it would have been worth it.
“Evans,” he yelled across the room, “any change?”
“No, Sir,” the commander said. “They should have seen our latest course correction. I think they are going to let us do it.”
“I don’t think they have a choice. It’s their only chance to make their jump point.”
“Yes, Sir, and you’ve put us in just the right spot, we should have enough time to finish them off before they get there.”
Unless they finish us off instead, he thought to himself. What were they like? He still had absolutely no idea how they would react. The thought was nagging at him. Punching and pulling at him. Would they scatter, or stay steady? Their soldiers on the ground scattered into a mob. Would their ships act the same way? And what weapons did they have? The lasers obviously. But what else?
Things could go so wrong so fast. The doubt inside of him was almost overwhelming. Did he have the right to risk everything? What if he was wrong?
He studied the screen before him. Two long trails of ships coming together in a curved V. If they continued, they would meet at the point and then sale side by side. He had cut inside their wide arching circle and put his fleet in the best position possible.
At the end, they would straighten out the Scraggs to hit their jump point. The humans to hit the Scraggs with the most murderous fire possible. The longer they could keep together the more damage he could inflict.
And, the more damage they could dish out to him and his men, he thought.
“Sir,” Commander Evans said, “we are in range.”
“Hold off,” the admiral replied. “The closer we get, the more of a surprise. I don’t want them getting spooked. Not yet.”
The clock in his head ticked. Slowly, the fleets drew closer and closer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His mouth felt dry and he could have sworn that time was slowing down.
Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. The sooner this started the better.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared to tell the fleet to open up. At that exact moment, his video screen external shot was bathed in a deep blue light. Obviously, the distant commander was as impatient as he was.
“Captain Freeborn,” he said to the Churchill’s captain. “You may maneuver as necessary, but remain within the published parameters. I don’t want my fleet breaking up into a dozen different parts because of a blue light.”
“Yes, Sir,” the captain said as he turned back to his staff.
“Captain White,” he said to his chief of staff. “You may inform the fleet that they may fire if they so desire.”
Captain White smiled as he turned to the command console and gave the order. Almost immediately, a hundred balls of pure , traveling at astronomical speeds, hurled towards the enemy.
Mac watched the path of the projectiles and nodded. His gunners knew their job.
“What is the report on that laser?” he asked Evans.
“Sir, it is more powerful than we expected.”
“I can’t shake her,” Captain Freeborn said. “No matter how I maneuver, it holds steady on our nose.”
Admiral McKenzie nodded. “She’s trying to burn out our sensors. That must be where she has hers. Tell our gun crews to focus forward. Maybe we can return the favor.” What the aliens didn’t know was that Imperial Naval vessels were fitted with dozens of different sensors located all over the outer hull. Hitting the Churchill’s nose was a waste of time.
“Sir,” Evans interrupted, “the enemy fleet is shifting, same course, but they’ve maneuvered ‘up’ away from our shot. I think they learned their lesson with our first encounter.”
Mac nodded, he had expected that. They would have to get closer. But if they were lucky, some of that first round would hit.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes so he could see the order of battle. The screens showed it to him. But he needed to move the pieces around inside his head so he could try different scenarios.
“Sir, the laser has shifted off the nose and is raking down our side. It looks like all of his ships are firing at the same spot, sir. Moving together down our side.”
Mac swallowed hard. Twenty-five lasers, focused on one point, could burn through a lot of things.
“No missiles? No railguns?”
“No, Sir, not yet,” Evans said as he slowly shook his head.
“I don’t think they have them, Sir, not railguns.” Janet said to him. “That is why their ships are shaped like they are. Streamlined. No creases, no corners. They’ve only ever thought about facing other lasers.”
Admiral McKenzie nodded his head. “I think you are right, Professor. I think you are right. Let’s hope so.”
She smiled back at him. Obviously happy to have contributed, but behind her eyes, he could see a hint of fear. Good, he thought. Heaven knew he had more than enough himself.
“Sir, the first round should be arriving soon.”
Every man in the room turned to look at the big screen. Pulling their attention away from their own duties to witness what would happen.
Each and every man there was disappointed. The alien fleet had maneuvered away. Only three shots out of a hundred actually reached their target. One caught the giant battleship aft. Two more hit the second alien vessel amidships. Each time, a small yellow explosion was the only external trace.
Mac well knew though, that the internal destruction had to be significant. It just had to be if they were to have any chance.
“Third round,” Commander Evans stated. Mac glanced at the corner of his screen. One minute. It had seemed like ha
lf an hour at least.
“Tell the fleet to widen their spread,” he told his chief of staff. They wouldn’t be able to get the concentrated kill shot he had hoped for. Not until they got closer and or the enemy stopped jumping around.
Shifting from the video display, he glanced at the sensor display that showed his fleet and all of their statistics. They looked good. Holding position. Two damaging hits so far. Well within expectations.
Suddenly, the Churchill shuddered and the aliens’ ships displayed on the video screen started to shift to the right.
“Sir,” Captain Freeborn reported. “We’ve taken a hit in a forward oxygen tank. We’re exhausting into space, but we’re bringing it under control.”
Slowly, the screen brought the ships back into alignment as the captain maneuvered his vessel.
“Very well,” the admiral said, having to bite down on his lip to stop himself from giving instructions. He needed to let the captain fight his own battle with his ship and remained focused on the fleet.
“Sixth round away,” Commander Evans stated a few seconds later.
Less than two minutes, his crews were firing faster than ever before. He had to smile to himself. He could well imagine the frantic mayhem going on in each ship’s battery as they raced to outdo each other and to kill as many aliens as they could. God how he loved these men.
Focusing between the sensor screen and the live video feed he watched the rounds as they raced towards their targets.
“Hits, Sir,” Commander Evans said with glee. “Lots of them.” Small explosions occurred along the sides of almost each of the alien ships.
Admiral McKenzie began to remind the commander that he was staring at the very same display as he was. But he held his tongue. No need to dampen enthusiasm. They might need it before the day was over.
Reviewing the hits, he shook his head. The big bastard was just so huge, it would take hundreds of hits to hurt her, he thought.
Then, without warning, the Churchill rocked to the side, almost throwing him from his chair. Grabbing the armrest, he held himself in place until the ships steadied herself. His heart jumped and his breath stopped for a moment as he waited for the reports.