Colin understood his surprise. They were trading fire with at least fifty superdreadnaughts – the analysts weren't sure if there were more, although Colin suspected that the enemy wouldn't hold back now – and yet Colin wanted to fire on gunboats with missiles designed to take out capital ships? But there was no alternative. The gunboats could take control of enemy missiles and steer them towards their targets. It gave the enemy a major advantage ...
“Use missiles to take out the gunboats,” he ordered. “Hurry.”
***
“They’re firing on the gunboats, sir,” the tactical officer said.
Wachter glanced over at Penny. “Took them longer than I expected to catch on,” he said. “But no matter.”
Penny nodded. Losing a handful of gunboats, no matter how expensive, was better than losing an entire starship. The two formations were slowly starting to converge into one, settling down to give chase to the rebels ... assuming, of course, the rebels didn't try to jump out. Had they tried? There was no way to know.
She watched as the remaining gunboats vanished from the display, then followed the progress of the next swarm of missiles as it flashed towards the enemy formation. The enemy were taking damage, all right. A battering match would be unpleasant for both sides, but the Morrison Fleet was right next to its repair yards while the rebels would have to travel thousands of light years to find a usable shipyard. And, by that time, the counteroffensive could begin.
General Clive rocked, violently. “Two direct hits,” the damage control officer reported. “We took minor damage to sectors ...”
Penny looked over at Wachter. He didn't seem bothered at all. Percival had been a coward, hiding on his giant space station, but Wachter had led his fleet into battle. If nothing else, Penny realised, he had more than earned his subordinates’ loyalty by sharing the same risks.
“The question,” Wachter said, “is do they know about Omega? And is it actually working?”
Penny nodded in agreement. From the handful of tests they’d performed, Omega seemed to work ... as long as the original safety interlocks were still in place. The rebels knew that they were dangerously inferior to the Empire in raw numbers; logically, they would search for ways to improve their starships and technology. If they could get time between flickers down sharply, it would give them a major advantage. But that would mean removing the safety interlocks the Empire had installed.
“We won’t know,” she said. The rebels might just have calculated that a battering match would work in their favour, rather than withdrawing from the system. “We won’t ever know.”
“We shall see,” Wachter said. He cleared his throat, then looked over at the coordinators. “The fleet is to press the enemy closely.”
Penny smiled. “Energy range?”
“It won’t do any harm to let them think that's what we have in mind,” Wachter said. “Besides, we need to press them as hard as possible.”
***
Colin hated to lose. It had been his determination to win that had guided him to then-Commodore Percival ... and his determination not to let Percival destroy his career and future that had led him to mutiny. He took a certain amount of pride in winning far more battles, both real and simulated, than he'd lost. But the mystery CO of Morrison had beaten him, hands down. Colin scowled at the display, then reluctantly conceded defeat. There was no point in pressing the matter further.
The Imperial Navy was settling in for a long chase, exchanging volleys of missile fire with his ships. They were even gaining on the rebels, thanks to the number of damaged starships in Colin’s fleet. Given time, they would claw their way into energy range and rip his remaining ships apart. The Imperial Navy could afford to take the losses, Colin and the rebels could not. If they lost their superdreadnaughts, they lost all hope of victory.
“General signal to all ships,” he ordered. “We will jump out to the first waypoint in two minutes, then proceed to the second waypoint.”
He considered vectors for a long minute as the fleet acknowledged his command. For once, the Imperial Navy would have an excellent chance of following his ships through a jump. It would be chancy, he knew, but the enemy CO had shown no hesitation to take risks in exchange for a shot at Colin’s ships. Colin would have to repower his flicker drives at once and jump again, hoping his ships could escape before the enemy ran the calculations and jumped after them. Could they do it in time?
There was no way to know, he knew. There were just too many variables.
The superdreadnaught rang like a bell as four more missiles crashed against her shields. Long tendrils of energy reached through the failing force shields to caress her hull, brilliant red lights blinked up on the status display. Damage control teams were already on their way, Colin saw, but there were limits to what they could do. At least his teams were better than the enemy’s, if the long-range sensor reports were to be believed. The enemy didn't seem to be as quick at repairing minor damage as the rebel ships. But it was impossible to be sure.
“All ships report ready to jump, sir,” the tactical officer reported.
Colin mentally saluted his opponent. Whoever he was, he had played a good game. And won. For a moment, he wondered what would happen to the enemy CO. If he was an aristocrat, he was likely to be removed from his position quickly, for fear of him becoming another Empress. And if he wasn't, he was likely to end up dead.
“Jump,” he ordered.
Alarms rang through the hull. “Sir, the flicker drive is refusing to activate,” the tactical officer reported. He sounded shocked. “We’re caught in a gravity field!”
Colin’s eyes snapped to the display, but he already knew what he would see. Morrison was the closest gravity well ... and yet they were already far outside the planet’s gravity shadow. For a moment, he found himself wondering if the enemy had managed to cloak a whole planet before dismissing the thought as completely impossible. A planet could be knocked out of orbit or blown into asteroids – the Empire had done both during the First Interstellar War – but not cloaked. The power requirements would be far beyond even the most advanced technology.
And yet they were trapped.
“Swing the smaller ships behind us to boost our point defence,” he ordered. If they were trapped ... what if the Empire had managed to create an artificial gravity field? Why were the Geeks and Nerds the only people who could innovate? They weren’t – but the Empire rarely innovated. Everything else the enemy CO had shown them had been cunning uses of well-known technology. “And then continue firing.”
He thought, desperately. It had to be a trick. If the Empire could prevent starships from flickering out, it would have deployed the technology long ago.
But how the hell was it done?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“They’re redoubling their fire,” the tactical officer reported.
Wachter smiled. “Omega must be working,” he said. “They would have jumped out by now if they could.”
Penny couldn’t disagree. The rebels had to know they would lose the battering match – or that they would win, only to have their fleet battered into uselessness. And they weren't stupid enough to stay and fight when the odds were so badly stacked against them. No, Wachter was right. They should have retreated by now. If, of course, they could retreat.
The Admiral raised his voice. “Continue firing,” he ordered. “And launch the second set of gunboats.”
***
The spy cursed out loud as the superdreadnaught rocked, almost sending her stumbling into a bulkhead. Whatever was going on outside the hull had to be violent; her damage control team had been rushed from place to place, hastily removing and replacing components that had burned out during the battle. The more advanced teams, she’d heard, were actually working on the hull, even though the superdreadnaught was still fighting for survival. She wasn’t sure if that was bravery or sheer desperation.
Rogers caught her hand, then pulled her down the corridor towards the damage control
station. The spy glowered at his back; they’d slept together once and now he was all protective? It wouldn't have been so bad, she knew, if she hadn't wanted some privacy and a chance to access the mainframe again. But then, perhaps she would have found his concern irritating even if she hadn't had any other problems.
“Get these components replaced,” Engineer Richards barked. He shoved a datapad and a box of spare parts at Rogers, who took them and glanced at the instructions. The ship’s network was very good at identifying problems, the spy had to admit. But then, the superdreadnaught design had been established for hundreds of years. “Now!”
Rogers threw the spy one final look, then fled. The spy rolled her eyes, then looked up at Richards. He passed her a toolkit and a handful of spare parts, then another datapad. The spy looked at the pad, noted that she had to climb back into the tubes, then set off. It was less useful than working on the hull or patching up cracks in the bulkheads, she knew, but it gave her a chance to complete her own mission. Besides, while Rogers and several of the others had complained about not doing anything useful, keeping the ship’s various networks up and running was important to their survival. The datanet alone was a key part of the point defence network.
She clambered into the tube and climbed towards her destination. There was a faint smell of burning material in the air, suggesting that power surges had damaged or destroyed more than a few components. One of the shield generators had already failed, damaged beyond repair; the spy had helped the crew shut it down, then put it to one side. It would take hours to replace it, even assuming that they had the required components on hand. By then, the battle would be decided, one way or the other.
There was no sign of anyone else in the tubes, she realised, as she reached the workstation. She opened the hatch to make it look as though she was doing something useful, then spliced her datapad into the command network node. One of the little tricks few crewmen were ever taught was that it was possible to link directly into the network, without setting off any alarms. The spy braced herself, then tapped in the commands to send the message. An accurate update on the rebel fleet, she was sure, would be very helpful to her superiors.
The trick, she’d been taught, was to put the fact she was doing something wrong out of her mind. Criminals were often caught because they were frozen by the thought of doing something criminal, something that could get them in real trouble. They hesitated ... and were lost. The spy continued to do her job, even as the message uploaded itself into the communications network. It would almost certainly be missed in the heat of battle.
As soon as the message was gone, she disengaged the datapad and went back to work, removing and replacing each of the damaged components. The network bleeped its approval, allowing her to seal up the section and start making her way back to the damage control station. There was no shortage of work for her and the rest of the crew ...
***
“Admiral,” Penny said, in surprise. “Director Smyth is trying to contact you. He’s using the emergency codes.”
Wachter turned away from the display, surprised. “He shouldn't have those codes at all,” he said. There was a hint of cold anger in his voice. “But why am I not surprised he does?”
Penny wasn't surprised either. It was hard, sometimes, for a junior officer to get the Admiral’s attention. The emergency codes automatically prioritised their message, at the cost of a court martial or summery demotion if the Admiral deemed the message unimportant. They shouldn't have been shared with anyone below the rank of Captain, let alone someone outside the Navy. But Imperial Intelligence had its ways of collecting pieces of information that could be used to its advantage.
“Put him through,” Wachter added. “But if it isn't important, I will have him shot.”
“Admiral,” Smyth said. “Our listening posts just picked up a message from the rebel ships.”
Wachter lifted an eyebrow, then looked at Penny, who shrugged. They’d certainly not picked up any message. But Imperial Intelligence was known for having a few tricks up its sleeves that were rarely shared with others.
“Did you?” Wachter said. “And what did the message say?”
“It gave a fleet breakdown of the rebel ships,” Smyth said. “But it came directly from the rebel command ship.”
Wachter smiled. Penny understood. The fleet breakdown was likely outdated by now – they’d certainly inflicted a great deal of damage in the battle – but knowing which ship served as the enemy flagship would be very useful. Taking it out would force the rebels to sort out who was in command, which wouldn't be easy under fire. Even if they had a successor primed and ready to step in, they’d still have to make sure everyone knew that authority had been transferred.
“Pass us the details,” Wachter ordered. He’d cut Imperial Intelligence out of the command network, shortly after taking command of the fleet. In hindsight, that might have been an error. “And thank you.”
Penny smiled as one of the rebel superdreadnaughts blinked yellow, marking it as the command ship. It was utterly indistinguishable from its fellows, but if Imperial Intelligence was correct ... maybe, just maybe, the spooks were worth their keep after all.
“Target that ship,” Wachter ordered. “I want it gone.”
***
Colin forced his mind to think, logically. The false gravity field had to be a trick. He was sure of that, because a real gravity field would have shown up on the sensors long before they tried to flicker out. And the arsenal ships had left without impediment. They couldn't have done that if they were deep within the gravity shadow. Hell, a destroyer could flicker into planetary orbit ... no, it had to be a trick.
Or had the arsenal ships simply left before the field was deployed?
He scowled as the Imperial Navy resumed its bombardment, its missiles roaring into his fleet with deadly intent. Thankfully, he'd managed to redeploy his smaller ships to provide some additional cover, now that the two enemy fleets had merged together, but it was still going to hurt him. There hadn't been a running battle for centuries, at least until the revolution had begun. Both sides, Colin was sure, were going to take one hell of a beating. But logically the enemy would still be able to flicker out ...
“Damn it,” he said out loud, as he realised the truth. Such a simple trick – and so effective when deployed in the heat of battle. Most Imperial Navy officers wouldn't even have understood what they were seeing. “Contact all ships; remove the safety interlocks from the flicker drives.”
He found himself laughing in bitter admiration. Most Imperial Navy officers didn't really understand the nuts and bolts of their starships. But Colin, at Frandsen’s suggestion, had spent months studying the inner workings of Shadow, back when he’d been planning the mutiny. The safety interlocks were just ... there, unquestioned. And if someone could spoof them into thinking they were in a gravity field, the flicker drive would refuse to activate.
“Yes, sir,” the communications officer said.
Colin thought, rapidly. The safety interlocks were physical; they’d have to be removed manually. And that explained, he realised, why the arsenal ships had been able to leave. They hadn't been constructed by the Imperial Navy; if the Geeks had left the safety interlocks in place, they were probably different enough to prevent them from being so easily spoofed.
But would they have enough time to remove the locks before they were hammered into scrap metal?
“Sir,” the tactical officer said, “the enemy is locking weapons on us.”
Colin looked up. “Us specifically? This ship?”
“Yes, sir,” the tactical officer said. “They have a solid lock on our hull.”
Colin blanched as he saw a colossal barrage separate itself from the enemy ships, “Move up the point defence ships to cover us,” he ordered. If General Montgomery was being targeted by every enemy ship, survival would become very difficult. “And alert Commodore Grayson. He may have to take command in a hurry.”
“Admiral, the engineers
think it will take at least ten minutes to disable all the sensor interlocks,” the communications officer said. “They’re working as fast as they can.”
“Understood,” Colin said. Engineers had a habit of overstating the time it would take to perform repairs, although he’d tried to cure his engineers of that habit. This time, he hoped they were exaggerating. “Warn all hands to brace for impact.”
He settled back into his command chair, thinking hard. How the hell had the enemy identified the command ship? It should have been impossible ...
... But they'd done it.
***
Commodore Jeremy Damiani was feeling oddly constrained as the Shadow Fleet retreated from Morrison. Battlecruisers were designed for fast, slashing attacks on enemy targets, not slogging battles. They didn’t have the armour or shields to stand in the wall of battle. But there was no real alternative. If the fleet scattered, they might make it outside the range of whatever was spoofing the safety interlocks – or they might simply be picked off one by one.
“They’re targeting the flagship,” his tactical officer reported.
“Move us to provide cover,” Jeremy ordered. A battlecruiser could be replaced far quicker than a superdreadnaught, particularly one carrying the fleet commander. Colin was vitally important to the rebels, even if he hadn't realised it himself. He was not only their commander, but the person who had inspired millions of others to rebel against the Empire. “And deploy additional ECM drones, then fire on the gunboats.”
He silently cursed whoever had come up with that tactic under his breath. The gunboats carried enough sensor gear to see through most of the ECM haze, allowing them to target their missiles with a precision that was normally absent. Besides, with most of them aimed at a single ship, ECM was only of limited effectiveness anyway.
“Incoming missiles,” the tactical officer said. “Point defence engaging ... now!”
Jeremy watched, grimly, as enemy missiles started to die. There were some disadvantages to their decision to target a single ship, he noted; the other rebels ships didn't have to worry about protecting themselves. Colin had improved the point defence network remarkably, but there were still limits. Normally, targeting one ship alone was regarded as poor tactics. But it might well pay off for the enemy.
Democracy's Right: Book 02 - Democracy's Might Page 26