“Walters, you deserve a medal,” she announced. “I expect I’ll be taking a ship up soon, and I don’t want the last gun emplacement shooting me down. Think you can take it out?”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I don’t know!” He considered, then said, “We’ll have to see if this thing can fire that low. The AI is probably programmed to prevent shooting its own facilities.”
“Let’s find out,” she invited.
The gun could angle itself low enough, but the AI was programmed to prevent shooting its own guns on the space port. Reba went into the net with Walters and worked with the AI. It was not in the same class as the AI’s on ships, but the job was not nearly as complex, so it didn’t have to be. Nevertheless, it was still a computer, and it could not overcome its programming. Reba tried another tack.
“Computer, it’s time for maintenance. You’re going to shut yourself down. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Can we use the gun while you’re shut down?”
“Yes, but only under manual control.”
“Okay, I want you to aim at the gun emplacement we’ve been talking about. You are not going to fire.”
“Done.”
“Okay, you’re going to shut down, but bring yourself back in five minutes. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Execute,” she commanded.
The AI’s presence evaporated, but the shields, targeting, and firing controls still functioned. It would be much more difficult to hit a moving target under these conditions, but their target was not moving.
Reba and Walters left the net. He was pretty concerned. “You know, that gun will be an even match for me.”
“I know. You’re going to give me two hours, then open up on it. I’ll be in a ship somewhere out there, and I’ll open up on the gun as soon as I see your first shot. See if you can get the two other gun emplacements to join you.”
“You’re going to fire a ship’s weapons from the ground?” he asked in surprise.
“If I can. If I can’t, I’ll get word back to you before your first shot.”
She took off at a fast limp and rounded up a crew of experienced gunners, then headed for the largest ship on the field, a frigate. Reba had never been on, let alone flown, a frigate. Frigates were multi-storied fortresses literally sprouting with guns. The guns of a frigate were not as powerful as those of a cruiser, but what the frigate lacked in power it made up in numbers. The very presence of a frigate moving in on bands of smugglers or pirates brought instant surrender.
Reba had to ask the AI for directions to the bridge. Along the way, she found Empire crewmembers scattered around the ship, all in the throes of the scree. Her men stunned everyone they found, and Reba speeded up the process by directing searchers from the net. Then everyone plugged in, got situated, and Reba prepared to lift the ship.
She didn’t want to take off in case the gun emplacement had orders to shoot her down, but she had no choice. She had to lift her ship above the ships parked between her and the gun emplacement. She lifted, and the moment she did so, she came under fire. The gun crew must have been watching her power up her shields and known she was going to take off.
The shot was devastating, immediately causing a shield to fail. The next shot followed immediately on its heels, and the ship was holed. She was in serious trouble, and she had another half hour before Walters would be ready. She lifted higher and turned the ship until it pointed directly at the offending gun. She never had to issue an order to fire – her gunners opened up with every gun under their control.
Walters must have been watching her power up. The moment the battery opened fire on her, he opened fire on it. The battery shook hard, but it kept firing at an incredible rate. Fire from her ship and Walters’s battery poured into the enemy battery, but the defenses were too strong to penetrate. Then the other two batteries joined in. The Chessori shields quickly failed, then an immense fireball rose from its location, followed closely by a huge explosion.
When the air cleared, there was only a smoking hole in the ground with a few remnants of structure poking out of it.
Reba set the ship down, but she kept her crew together, issuing orders to move to the only other frigate on the line. She no longer wanted this one, it was damaged. Someone else would have to see to repairs.
She got settled into the other frigate and waited to see what developed. She and Waverly stayed in constant contact; anything he knew, she would know.
It took a full ten hours to clear the military side of the port. Waverly glared wearily at the civilian ships standing on the other side of the field. The scree still sounded, and it had to be coming from there.
“Only one way to do this,” he said to his adjutant, now truly exhausted. “One by one.”
“Any idea where the scree is coming from?” Reba asked Waverly over the comm link.
“No idea at all. We haven’t secured all the buildings here at the port, and it could be coming from anywhere in the city,” he replied calmly. “We don’t know the range of the thing, but my money is on the civilian ships.”
“I’m worried that we could be attacked from a ship in orbit,” she replied, “but I don’t want to be out of position on the far side of the planet if someone comes in. I’ll just stay here and be ready to go if needed.”
Hours later, as Waverly and his men slowly worked their way through the civilian ships and buildings, a Chessori trader came streaking in at low altitude from the west. The moment it appeared, two Chessori traders parked on the far side of the field took off. Reba lifted her ship to attack, but to her amazement, both traders were taken out by the three weapons platforms on the field. She grinned at the thought of Walters and his crew getting another chance to use their newest toy.
Reba followed the first trader and allowed it to reach orbit, then set her own gunners on it. The trader’s weapons were insignificant against a frigate, and her gunners quickly prevailed. As the Chessori turned into a brief, roiling fireball, the scree ended.
When she returned to Orion III, she made her way to Korban’s office. Her Raiders were still clearing buildings in the city and at both space ports, but Korban’s men were getting back on their feet and taking over as quickly as Waverly could brief the commanders. All that remained was a mopping up exercise, and everyone knew it.
Val met her outside Korban’s office with a shaky embrace, still recovering from his own ordeal with the scree. Korban came out into the foyer to greet her, offering a deep bow.
“My Lady, you and your men have saved the day.”
She collapsed into a chair, returning his bow with a stern glare. “The day, perhaps. How goes it for Chandrajuski?”
“Struthers’ reinforcements have not yet arrived. Chandrajuski just called the rest of his ships into the system, and that should put them in front of the Rebels. I’d like to help him, but you’ve told me my sailors will be completely ineffective against the scree. Now that I’ve experienced it myself, I’m convinced.”
She considered long and hard, then looked to Val. He raised his eyebrows and said, “Korban has seven squadrons, four of them in excellent condition, the others lacking only crew. Unfortunately, you’re the only pilot we have who is immune.”
She looked at Waverly. “Then we’ll just have to train some more, eh?”
He shook his head. “I’ll give you all the gunners you want, but my guys are not psychologically fit to be pilots. It’s a whole different mindset from ground fighting.”
“I know, but we’re sitting at the bottom of a gravity well with everyone falling toward us. What if Chandrajuski’s forces lose, or what if they let a squadron or two get through? We’re dead meat. I’d like to set up a last ditch defense. We can forget the small ships. How about if we just try to man the cruisers?”
“We could just as well make plans to get out of here if necessary.”
“We could, Jim. They’re your men. It’s your call.”
Waverly star
ed at her, then looked to Val, then Korban. His lips tightened. “We’re not just here to rescue this sector. We’re here to defend Earth. We’ll stay, and we’ll fight even if they land. We’ll make plans for both contingencies. I’ll personally select your pilots, but I beg you to find a better solution.”
Korban issued orders to all seven of his squadrons to return to the planet. Reba would pilot one cruiser, and eighteen Raiders were chosen to fly the other six. The plan was Reba’s, and though it was unorthodox, she would train three pilots to fly each ship. Only one could do the actual flying, but that one pilot would be coached and helped by two others.
Val shook his head at the audacity of these Terrans, but he jumped in with both feet to help with the training.
Trexler
Chapter Twenty-three
Chandrajuski rejoined his forces, still shaken by the extended experience of the scree. “What’s the plan?” he asked M’Coda.
“The governor’s reinforcements are due to arrive soon, but we don’t know their strength, and we don’t know if they’ll be grouped together or come at us from all directions. We don’t want to show our fast ship advantage unless it’s absolutely necessary. Those are the ground rules.”
“Agreed, but they can’t possibly know what’s gone on here. I’m fairly confident they’ll arrive as one group, and I doubt if they’ll be prepared for an immediate fight. Their orders will be to back up the governor, theoretically an easy task.”
Trexler spoke. “Are you confident enough to position our forces based on that assumption?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. We don’t know where they’ll appear.”
M’Coda continued the briefing. “The only solution is to position ourselves inside them. If we scatter our slow ships, they might never make it to the battle. We’ll have to plan on something close to the planet.”
“I concur. I want all of our ships in a position to engage. We’ll have to cover as many eventualities as we can. Let’s get everyone moving.”
Chandrajuski had sixteen squadrons, ten of them slow and six of them fast. The fast ships were instructed to keep their beacons off until further notice. The slow ships would keep their beacons on, enticing the enemy to them.
The sixteen ships formed into four battle groups of four squadrons each and were dispatched to enter the system as close-in as they could, each battle group equidistant from the planet and from each other. In just a few hours, ships began emerging from hyperspace one after the other, grouping up, and speeding toward Orion III.
One day later, thirty-seven Rebel squadrons dropped from hyperspace in the far fringes of the system, all grouped together.
Chandrajuski, Trexler, and M’Coda studied the display intently, M’Coda’s whiskers getting a hard workout.
“Our ships are not in good position for this. It will definitely be a close-in battle,” Chandrajuski announced, “and the odds are not in our favor. It’s 37 against 16.”
“We’ve handled worse in training, and it might not be so bad if we can stretch out the timing,” Trexler replied, working the controls of the holographic display intently. He began moving ships around, exploring possibilities.
M’Coda caught on quickly and helped. “I think it will work, Ray,” he announced after a few minutes. “The Rebels were lazy. They exited hyper quite far out. We have time to reposition and keep the battle away from the planet.”
“Unless more come in from a different direction,” Trexler worried aloud.
M’Coda’s upper hands started a rapid preening of his whiskers. “If more come, the numbers will be against us. We’ll have to consider retreat. Remember, we have another battle to fight after this one. We cannot afford to lose all our forces in this first encounter.”
They both turned to Chandrajuski. It was his call. “I might be the grand admiral, but I don’t feel so grand all of a sudden,” he said.
His great eyes blinked, then he made his decision. “We cannot lose Aldebaran Sector. Retreat will remain an option, but we fight here until and unless the odds worsen.” He stared at them in contemplation. “They’ve sent thirty-seven squadrons. What an odd number.”
M’Coda’s whiskers began a new, refreshing preening. “Could it be all they have?” he asked.
“They certainly have many thousands of squadrons, but they might be limited in the number of trained Chessori crews, just as we are limited with our Terran crews.”
He began issuing orders to his squadrons. Soon, three of the four battle groups turned out-system. The 12 squadrons would travel outward for a day, jump into hyperspace, then jump back in as close as they could. They would be only slightly behind the Rebels when they returned. The four remaining squadrons would have to slow down the Rebel approach so the rest of the fleet could catch up.
Trexler began playing with the controls again while Chandrajuski conferred with his battle groups. M’Coda stepped to his side. “What’s on your mind, Ray?”
“We need to slow them down. I’d like to throw a little confusion at them when the fighting starts.”
“How?”
“We don’t want to display our fast ship capabilities if we can avoid it. I’m not sure we can, but what if we have all of our fast ships flank their formation? Their beacons are off, so the Rebels probably won’t even know they’re here. They might notice our drive signatures, but not until we close in on them. What do you think?”
M’Coda’s upper hands moved to his antennae as he considered. “Those four squadrons in front of the Rebels are in for a bad time. Four against 37, it’s unthinkable. They need any help we can provide. Your plan will improve their numbers, though 10 against 37 is still unacceptable.”
“It’s the best we can do. Their job will be to slow down the attackers until our trailing squadrons catch-up. Then it will be barely more than two against one, very acceptable odds. I only hesitate because I hate to keep throwing changes at our guys. It makes us look like we don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Don’t worry. Chandrajuski is a master at this. Besides, we really don’t know what we’re doing. Battles on this scale have never been fought, and our men know it. They’ll see the power of this tactic and welcome it.”
A tightbeam transmission came to them from near the planet and was patched through to Trexler. Reba’s face filled the display. “Hey, what’s going on up there? Are you guys abandoning us?”
“Hi, Reba. How’s it going down there?”
“The city and space port are secure. We’re investigating other cities and ports to see if any Chessori remain. You can’t strand us, Ray.”
“I won’t. We’re just repositioning.”
She considered his words. “Oh. Sorry. The odds are pretty bad, ten against thirty-seven. I thought you might have decided to retreat.”
“You can’t see the whole picture from where you are. The odds are bad, but not that bad unless more Rebels show up. I’ll let you know if you need to leave in a hurry. Are you prepared to do that?”
“If we have to. We’d rather stay and fight. I’m preparing a reserve force here in case any of them make it past you.”
“Uh, say again?”
“Well, Korban has seven operational squadrons, and I have a lot of infantry guys that are excellent shots. It won’t take them all that long to get up to speed on the guns. I’m the only real pilot, but we’re cobbling some trainees together. We’re just manning the cruisers, not the smaller ships. It’s the best use of our resources.”
Trexler stared into her eyes for a time as his mind calculated. “You’re training Waverly’s guys to fly?”
“We are. It won’t be pretty, and it’s only a last ditch effort. We’re assigning three Rangers to act as one pilot. I’ll take one ship by myself.”
“How good are the gunners?”
“Fair, and getting better. They’re naturals for the job. And the port defenses are fully manned by our guys. They’ve already taken out two Chessori.”
Trexler pursed his lips and
shook his head. “I should have given you a ship back on Earth. You’d earned it. I just wasn’t ready to give you up yet.”
Her dazzling smile lit up her face. “I’ll keep the seven I have if that’s okay with you.”
“Sorry, but I might take them away from you.” Her smile disappeared. Trexler leaned into the pick-up. “Reba, I have pilots, lots and lots of pilots. I can pull them from the fighters. I’d trade seven small fighters for seven cruisers any day.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course you can. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You have full Empire crews on board, right?”
“Yes . . . well . . . no. Three squadrons were pretty devastated internally when we cleared them of Chessori. The Chessori didn’t hesitate to kill regular crewmembers once the fighting started.”
“Are they operational?”
“Not against an Empire crew. Against a Chessori crew, they’ll be acceptable.”
“Get your ships started this way while I figure out what we’re going to do with them.”
“I sort of like the idea of a last line of defense, Ray.”
“So do I. We might turn you back, but there’s plenty of time for that. I need to slow these guys down, Reba. My ships that turned around are just repositioning. Do you understand my meaning?”
It didn’t take her long to figure it out. “I’ve just manned the cruisers. I have ten frigates. Do you want them?”
“If you can provide gunners, I’ll take a frigate over a fighter any day.”
“I’ll check with Waverly.”
“Don’t spread him too thin. You know about the second battle that’s coming up. All the ships here came from Seeton, and we’re making that obvious. We want the Rebels to know who their next target is. We’re going to pull the enemy to him.”
She nodded grimly and cut the connection.
He turned to find Chandrajuski staring at him in amazement. M’Coda’s upper hands had moved to his antennae, and they were working overtime. “Where do you people come up with these ideas?” Chandrajuski asked.
Knights of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Two) Page 36