The Homeguard’s rear echelon was comprised of a squadron of resupply ships. During a prolonged engagement, a ship could fall dangerously low on munitions. Atlas had been somewhat different. The Imperials believed their powerful new lasers gave them an advantage in firepower and range and they charged in faster than opposing fleets normally would.
A fleet battle might play out over days as both sides maneuvered cautiously, probing, prodding, and pulling back as needed. The munitions expended were not minimal. Once expended, a ship would maneuver out of formation and rearm. While ship designers catered for sufficient space to accommodate initial munitions and supplies, a couple thousand railgun slugs consumed the majority it. Additionally, there were the large havoc missiles to consider.
When the Imperials hastened the attack at Atlas, under the belief they would prevail with the perceived advantages, it’d quickly turned into a brutal brawl. Shepherd recalled only two such large-scale engagements in the history of interstellar warfare which dissolved into a brawl so quickly. Eventually, it always came down to a brawl, but depending on the maneuvers each side took, and the objectives, the battle might last for days.
Ships weren’t easily replaced. When you committed a formation to an attack, you took a risk, calculated or not. And it was all about calculated risks. A good push might smash a flank protecting an opposing fleet’s main formation, and the centerline would have to break off to help that flank or risk being surrounded. Another well timed push might overwhelm their point defenses, and a deadly salvo of hundreds of missiles could turn the tide of a battle.
However, a feign by the opposing fleet might see them suddenly surge, and where you thought you found a vulnerability, you suddenly found yourself over extended, and the only thing left of your advancing formation was smoldering wrecks and twisted debris.
Shepherd had sent a message to Rayne six days ago. The upstart captain probably only received it three days ago. Any day now depending on how fast he burned or how serious he took the message, Aaron would arrive at Sol. Hopefully, there’d still be a solar system left to defend.
Was Rayne even alive? The Commander never made his rendezvous with Valiant after the incident on the Imperial homeworld.
“Sir, the wing commanders have signaled, all ships are in formation, and are prepared to engage synchronized warp.”
When Excalibur engaged warp, the others would follow within a split second.
“What’s our intercept variable?”
“We’re tracking the Imperial fleet two light-hours beyond the heliopause. They’ll hit our first interdiction net within one hour and we’ll be in position to meet them head on.”
“Very well then. Shepherd to the fleet. Stand by.”
He took a deep breath, looking over the formation. He’d maneuvered them beyond Sol’s gravity well, enabling them to engage warp and intercept any variables in the Imperial fleet’s approach vector.
“Helm, engage.”
Excalibur jumped to light speed followed immediately by the entire fleet.
***
An hour later, sixty Imperial vessels hit the interdiction net at once and flashed from warp. The tactical board on Excalibur lit up. Shepherd wasn’t sure what it was about initial contact with an enemy that sent everything into a frenzy, but the crew scrambled all about the bridge as though now preparing for battle.
He opened a comm to the fleet.
“Shepherd to fleet. We’ve discussed the tactics. Let them make the first moves. It’s their show. We don’t want to be drawn into something we haven’t prepared for. If needed, a portion of Rigel’s defense navy will smash them from the rear while we keep them occupied.”
Shepherd intended to probe the Imperial formations with his heavy cruisers first. Until the enemy vessels maneuvered, he couldn’t be certain of their intentions. Was Earth the ultimate target? And to what extent? What was Marcus’ end game?
The Empire was at war with itself. They seemed to have as many agendas as they had senators. And yet, Shepherd’s own civilian Government had been the ones who commissioned the creation of a dark matter bomb while negotiations were still ongoing. And now the Empire was aware of that weapon, it could easily erode any support the peace treaty once had among the Imperial Navy.
Regardless of that reality, Shepherd still had the gnawing feeling that an underlying discord among a distinct few within the Patrician classes, resulted in this fractured state of Imperial politics.
From wild conspirators to power hungry offspring. All the while at the back of his mind, he never stopped thinking about the Imperial subspace weapon research. Had Bannon and the other conspirators upset a larger plan in motion by the late Emperor’s son? If so, then this day would have come regardless of the Battle of Atlas Prime. The ruminations of the power struggles tearing at the core of the Empire would have to wait. The pressing matter was this marauding fleet.
“Charlie and Delta wings, advance to within twenty light-seconds. Havocs are authorized. Weapons free. Concentrate your fire on their starboard flank.”
The heavy cruisers comprising Charlie and Delta wings, fired a minimal burn from their sub-light engines, and advanced a couple thousand kilometers. Once in position, the Wing Commanders would coordinate the precision of their squadron’s strikes.
Each heavy cruiser wing on the Homeguard’s flanks consisted of thirty ships. Now half the ships in each wing fired havoc missiles until they emptied their magazines. Each ship designated to fire in this strike, fired twenty missiles per volley. Six hundred near-superluminal missiles.
The Imperial right flank responded with lasers, and other projectile point defense, while their center formations maneuvered to assist their starboard flank where Shepherd ordered Charlie and Delta to concentrate.
“Charlie and Delta, maintain firing rate,” Shepherd ordered.
Again, another ominous amount of missiles reached for the Imperial fleet. A half-dozen remained intact beyond the Imperial point defense and more Imperial center ships shifted the sixty thousand kilometers to their starboard, to lend better coverage to protect their assailed starboard flank.
Each United Fleet heavy cruiser had 240 havoc missiles. And each volley, half of the sixty heavy cruisers fired twenty missiles. After twelve volleys, they exhausted their munitions.
“Charlie and Delta, the expended ships only, reverse engines and fall back for resupply. Remaining ships continue firing.”
The other half of the heavy cruisers, who hadn’t yet engaged, fired their volleys while the others maneuvered to the supply ships in the rear. The supply ships launched dozens of shuttles to meet the cruisers and rearm them.
***
Dozens more missiles penetrated the Imperial point defense. Not enough strikes against one ship to destroy it, but several ships sustained moderate damage. The Imperials shifted those ships to different areas of their advancing formations. If the heavy cruiser volleys alone were enough to wear them, Shepherd should probably have all ships commence firing. But then he considered the staggering amount of munitions he’d already used.
At the present firing rate—7200 fired in the first hour—it wouldn’t matter how many supply ships he had. And if this was to be the beginning of a larger Imperial offensive. He couldn’t justify the wastage.
While they’d stockpiled a significant amount throughout the Fleet, he was firing that significant amount now. The supply ships carried only enough to resupply the Homeguard three times.
In exchange for the amount of missiles fired, the results were lackluster.
“Sir,” it was the operations officer. “I’m getting unusual readings along the Imperial formations. And considerably so in the space between our two fleets.”
That nagging at the back of his mind returned. “What’s unusual about it, Lieutenant?” Shepherd asked.
“I’ve never seen readings like this, sir. In one instance, the sensors ping an object, and the next—there’s no sensor return.”
Shepherd moved to the lieu
tenant’s station.
“You made certain all our ships have the telemetry fed to the PDCs to detect their stealth missiles?”
The ops officer regarded him with a pained look. “Yes, sir. I’ve checked and triple checked. The computer is scanning constantly based on the information Commander Rayne provided during the Battle of Atlas Prime. I was there myself, sir. I entered and disseminated the telemetry to the fleet during that battle.”
Shepherd squinted at the readings. The telemetry interpreted by the ship’s computer showed swirling whirlpools of energy flickering in the battle space.
This had to be it. Everything he’d feared. “Analyze the energy readings for traces of dark energy.”
Shepherd waited.
“Faint traces picked up by our sensors, sir.”
Shepherd didn’t know how, but somehow the Imperials were using dark energy and manipulating subspace to foil his ship’s sensors.
That could mean only one thing.
Chapter 28-Sacrifice of Angels
“Hostile missiles in the black!” – Lieutenant Obvious
Excalibur
He almost tripped returning to the command dais. “Shepherd to fleet. All ships take synchronized evasive maneuvers. I don’t want any collisions. We’re going to pull hard to port, and push relative to our formations, everyone drop z-minus thirty thousand kilometers relative.”
Tactical shouted out. “Hostile missiles in the black!”
Shepherd checked again. The damn Imperial stealth missiles. Hadn’t his fleet adapted to them during the Battle of Atlas Prime? The missiles were too close for PDCs to intercept. The computer locked and identified them now they were closer. Not exactly as fast as a near superluminal havoc . . . but who needs fast when you’re unseen?
“Shepherd to fleet, execute the evasive now!”
The ships in each wing held a ten-thousand kilometer spacing on the same plane and each formation held twenty-thousand kilometers from each other. The entire fleet fired maneuvering thrusters as one. Port thrusters pushed them starboard and then dorsal thrusters fired to push the ships down the z-axis relative.
It wasn’t enough. The missile barrage swarmed over them like wasps defending their nest from an intruder.
The missiles smashed across multiple United Fleet formations and heavy damage splayed across dozens of ships. Some ships drifted without power and others had to maneuver appropriately to avoid collisions with the stricken vessels. It wouldn’t take long for a ship drifting at a thousand kilometers a second, to hit another ship thirty thousand kilometers away—mere inches in space.
“Shepherd to fleet. Align and right yourself. Do not cross fields of fire. Right your formations and steady! I want all point defense batteries engaged. Everything focused ahead.”
The ships with clear lines’ of sight opened up. Point defense streams permeated the void from hundreds of point defense batteries on nearly a hundred ships. The blasts from intercepted missiles washed over the fleet. Some of the shaped charges intercepted near enough still to rattle the hulls.
Shepherd braced against the arms of the command chair. “Keep firing!”
***
The battleships suffered the worst, presenting large target profiles for the deadly undetected Imperials missiles. Several struck Excalibur’s bow. The impacts tore away point defense and missile batteries and ripped into the forward sections. His wee men and women sucked into the unforgiving void, forever floating among the dead.
“Helm, emergency reverse! Everything you’ve got. Signal the heavy cruisers to converge on our bow, narrow the apex, give the Imperials less profile to shoot at. Bring in the formation. Comms, have the rest of the scattered formations do the same.”
Hail after hail of missiles rained down. The space separating the opposing fleets was awash with radiation, gamma radiation and matter antimatter explosions. A bulkhead to his right exploded. Shepherd raised his arms to shield himself from the spray of heated shrapnel. His shoulder stung. Blood soaked his uniform. It had gone clean through. Other bits burned his exposed skin.
The operations officer screamed at him, but Shepherd’s ears still rung. Another crewman stumbled in front, his tunic ripped from neck to waist with burns covering his upper body.
Shepherd reached to steady the man when another shockwave tossed the deck sideways.
Something pricked him on his shoulder. The ops officer stood next to him with a pressure injector. The bridge, what was left of it, came back into focus. His ears still rung but sound returned.
“Sir, we’ve taken several direct strikes on the bow and mid-ships from those antimatter missiles. The armor is gone, a third of our power matrices have overloaded. Half our point defense and railguns are gone. Only our rear havoc missile batteries remain.”
Shepherd stared at the tactical board. His fleet’s formations were mostly scattered, but some of them maneuvered together to defend themselves from further strikes. They’d done their best under the assault. By ordering the separate formations to close defensively, the Imperial missiles’ effectiveness had been reduced exponentially.
They had reprieve for now. The helmsman had fired the emergency reverse and the heavy cruisers converged across Excalibur’s bow to cover her reverse. Just trying to unify their point defense and intercept the endless incoming missiles was a task by itself.
Shepherd forgot about the ships inflicting the chaos at the moment, they weren’t as much concern as the chaos they inflicted. It was an odd conundrum. All focus was on coordinating the defense against the missile swarms.
Shepherd’s eyes stung. The readings on the board blurred. “Status of the fleet?”
“Charlie and Delta wings reduced to forty percent effectiveness. Arthur is adrift,” the ops officer was probably trying his best to keep his stomach down. “She took the brunt of missiles and she’s gutted.”
Shepherd swiped his holoviewer to show the optics from Arthur. Atmosphere streamed from dozens of holes in her hull. Explosions rippled and died.
“Alpha and Bravo wings are eighty percent effective. Our frigates are maintaining an evasive pattern while sweeping in to help with the missiles when they can.” Good . . . Rhineheart was still in it.
Shepherd continued to back the fleet away from the Imperial front line. They appeared content to let him do so for now. But the strategy wouldn’t last forever. They had nowhere to go.
Just behind his fleet, the blue ball of Earth awaited the fate the universe had in store for it.
Chapter 29-Incoming
“Take your wing and smash those little buggers” – John Shepherd
Excalibur
Two hours later, at full reverse speed, they’d crossed from Interstellar space into the outer system. Interdiction wouldn’t matter now. Warp was impossible. The remains of Shepherd’s fleet continued to regroup, while reversing with their bows on the enemy. The Imperials remained contented to follow them in.
A couple times, Imperial frigates tried to make a push on the battered remains, but were punished for it. The Imperials likely held back to see if Shepherd had some trick or reinforcements ready to pounce. They were all too aware of the smashing Phoenix gave them at Atlas—whether they were there in person to see it or not that day.
They probably wondered if any such ships as Phoenix lurked nearby. How many did he have? And if he had any—why had he waited so long to deploy them? No doubt, the enemy fleet moved cautiously for just such an eventuality. Soon, to achieve their objectives, the Imperials would have to commit fully—phantom ships or not.
Rayne might not be here, but the Imperial memory of the pasting the brilliant Commander had given them before, bought Shepherd crucial time.
“We’ve done it, sir.”
“You can detect the missiles?”
“The missiles weren’t the issue, sir. They’ve found a way to distort space with scramblers in the battle area by bombarding it with subspace echoes. We couldn’t penetrate the distortion. The good news: it’s not the m
issiles themselves we can’t detect—only the initial vector. We have an idea we’re working on to penetrate the noise they’re putting out. The issue is while we will be able to detect the missiles, we’ll have significantly less lead time to do so. The point defense will be challenged, but not nearly as much as they were during the first salvo.”
“Excellent. I’ll take it.”
“What’s our plan, sir?”
“The plan is to hold until an old friend comes and pulls us from the fire. He’s habitual when it comes to that. The Imperials have evened the field with that first fiasco. But we have nothing to achieve here. We only have to keep them away from anything in Sol until reinforcements arrive.”
He opened a comm to the fleet.
“Fleet, this is Shepherd. Circle the wagons. Pyramid defense, combat capable ships regardless of damage hold the outer layer, ships with heavy damage pull inside. If you’ve got power, point defense and maneuvering thrusters, get to the outside. I don’t want to see able ships cowering in the center.”
Two hours later the Imperial Commander must have lost patience or decided the United Fleet dark horses weren’t coming. Imperial frigates swarmed from the dorsal relative and lasers burned into the ravaged United Fleet ships. Some of the attacking Imperial frigates caught a few havocs and railgun fire in return.
The Imperial frigates maneuvered around in packs and targeted isolated vessels. They then set their sights on a different target. The supply ships.
“They’re going for the supply convoy,” ops reported.
Shepherd connected to Delta wing. “Rhineheart, Shepherd. Take your wing and smash those little buggers going for our supply ships. Comms, coordinate the merger of the supply ships into our protective formation.”
The brawl kicked off. Imperial frigates sustained losses trying to force their way through a defensive line to target the supply ships. They’d succeeded in completely destroying two supply vessels before the others reached the safety of the protective envelope.
Unite the Frontier (United Star Systems Book 3) Page 16