Knights of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Two)
Page 37
“Hey, we’re new to all this. We don’t know the rules, so we make them up as we go. Got any ideas on how we’re going to use unattached cruisers and frigates?”
M’Coda answered, his upper hands still as he considered. “We assign one of Reba’s cruisers to each of our four inner squadrons. The additional cruiser will be treated as a frigate since the crews are not fully trained. With three of Reba’s squadrons remaining, we will pair two of them together, and the third will remain unattached, held in reserve.” His upper hands resumed a rapid preening of his two antennae. “This will be interesting, two cruisers paired together. No one knows their capabilities. We’ll call them super squadrons, eh?”
On paper, Trexler’s forces had increased from his original 16 cruisers to 23, but until they could study the performance of the newcomers, Reba’s cruisers would be treated as frigates. They were up against 37 fully functional Rebel squadrons. According to their simulations, the odds were very acceptable. There were no indications of Rebel reinforcements, but they could, of course, show up any time.
Trexler altered their normal tactics, but he considered it a minor change. His fleet’s sole focus would be Rebel cruisers. Enemy frigates would have to be addressed, but only minimally, and enemy fighters would be ignored until the cruisers had been dealt with. They were largely ineffective against his cruisers anyway.
He had no way of knowing if the Rebels had focused as intently on fleet tactics as his men had, but he suspected they had not. The Rebels’ secret weapon was the Chessori.
* * * * *
Reba’s ragged fleet of seven cruisers approached Trexler’s inner four squadrons, and a fighter came aboard each of her ships. Aboard Reba’s cruiser, the fighter disgorged a pilot, a gunner, an engineer, and thirty Empire crewmembers, most of them fairly senior. It had been standing room only on the fighter, but it had been a short flight for them.
Reba smiled when the new pilot joined her on the net. “They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel,” she said.
“Commander Sara Eaton reporting, My Lady.”
Reba remembered her from the interview process on Earth “So you have your own ship, a fighter?”
“No, I just borrowed this one. I’m a pilot on a cruiser.”
Reba blinked, figuratively. “Well! At least someone will know what’s going on here.”
“I’m not the only expert,” Sara replied. “We were told your ship had been through an internal battle, a culling, so I brought some senior Empire crewmembers. I also brought a Terran gunnery officer and an engineer. You’ll be as ship-shape as you can be in short order.”
Reba turned the ship over to Sara and went hunting through the net. The first person she found was Lieutenant Jerry Strauss, her new gunnery officer. He was already running simulations with the Raiders she had brought from Orion III.
She next found the engineer Sara had brought, Lieutenant Chuck Thoms. He was hard at work doing a complete acceptance check of the shields. A new Empire senior chief accompanied him, making notes of things that were not up to standard.
“How does it look, Lieutenant?” she asked.
“Fair. Some of the controls were damaged in the fighting. It might be a problem bringing spares on line. The Chief is working on a temporary fix. If it works, we’ll be able to run everything through the net, just not manually. I’ll let you know. The guns are next. As soon as we’re done with them, we’ll start checking our spare parts supply.”
“You can fix things during a battle?”
“No, Ma’am. Well . . . I could, but it takes too long to get from one place to another on these cruisers. Every gun and shield has a supply of spare parts that can be changed automatically. Unless you forget to load the spares, it works, but on your unmodified ships it doesn’t work all that well. An unmodified AI doesn’t like to change out a power supply until it’s exhausted. I’m not going to let it wait that long. I’ll give things a nudge here and there.”
“I like that idea.”
He shrugged. “We discovered right away during our training that none of these Empire cruisers were designed to take on another cruiser. Their purpose was mostly to show the flag, so we’re really abusing them. AI’s on the ships Admiral Trexler brought with him have been modified to change things earlier, so it’s mostly a matter of monitoring. Here, I’ll be busy.”
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“Keep an eye on me if you have time. Remember, we’ve never fought a real battle, so there are a lot of unknowns. If we encounter this scree I’ve heard about, I won’t have any back-up. I will be busy, and if I get overwhelmed, we could lose the ship.”
“Call me if you need help. Our primary focus is offense, but we can’t mount an offense if we’re dead, so your job is crucial to our defense. If you get overwhelmed, we’ll consider retreat.”
“Yes, Ma’am. That’s how it works.”
Reba went back to Sara. “You brought some good people. I’m feeling a lot better about things than I was. What’s my job?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. We’ve learned some things the hard way during training. Here’s how we staff a battle on a cruiser: one gunner for each battery, a gunnery control officer, an engineer, a pilot, and a captain/squadron commander.”
“That’s it?”
“Until we get more people, that’s it. Chandrajuski whittled us down to bare bones. This battle will let us know if it’s a mistake. So . . . I’m the pilot. My primary focus is to maneuver on our target. I’ll be coordinating my efforts with Schumacher, the pilot on our sister ship, and it’s intense.”
“Why don’t I pilot, and you command?”
Sara considered. Her thoughts went out through the ship to study the oncoming horde of Rebel/Chessori ships coming toward them, and Reba followed her thoughts through the net.
Sara reached a decision. “No. I’d like to. I’d really like to say I was a squadron commander, but the most demanding job here will be flying the ship. To win, we have to have guns on the target, as many guns as we can. We have to remain in an offensive posture for as long as we possibly can.”
“So what do I do?”
“You have two jobs. As squadron commander, you’re in charge of two ships. You focus on the big picture, and you carry out instructions from Trexler. That’s the easy part. As captain of this ship, your first priority is to monitor our defense. As pilot, I’m focused on offense, and I’m good at it, so you don’t have to worry about that, but I’ll do my job better if I know someone is keeping a tally on our health. We’re going to take hits, many of them. These battles are brutal: there will be damage. The AI will minimize it, but it’s a computer. You need to make sure we remain alive.
“We don’t have reinforcements to call on, and retreat is an iffy thing,” Sara emphasized. “Our opponents are just as fast as we are, so running away doesn’t work. If we need to retreat, call on Trexler for help.”
Sara’s virtual image stared at Reba through the net. “Can you do that?”
Reba nodded. “I can. I could use some training.”
“We all need to train together. We will, just as soon as Jerry and Chuck report ready. What do I need to know about this ship?”
“We’re operational as long as our fight is against Chessori. If our fight is against Empire sailors, we’ll have to retreat. Most of the senior crewmembers were killed or wounded during our fight to take the ship back from the Chessori. There’s no way we’ll compete against a fully operational Empire ship.”
“Well, I have a problem with that. We won’t know who we’re up against until we engage, and remember what I said about retreat. It is not a sure thing. Can we prepare ourselves to go up against a Rebel crew? I noticed there’s no Empire bridge crew here. That’s a first for me.”
“All killed. The squadron commander survived, but he’s wounded. We left him behind.”
“We still have a bare bones bridge crew,” Sara noted. “We’re adequate. We have one gunner for each battery. Do w
e have time to train Empire gunners? A full crew of them would be 120 plus whatever additional control officers they need. Surely not all of them were killed.”
Reba stared at her in amazement. “They weren’t, and you’re right. We can make this ship functional against whatever we run into. Brilliant!”
“Are the remains of the Empire crew on our side?”
“Good question. I think so, but we’ll take no chances. The door to the bridge will remain locked unless one of us has to go in or out.”
Sara spent hours running battle scenarios, bringing both sets of gun crews to a level of performance Reba had not achieved on her own. All the months of training at Parsons’ World had made a difference for the Terrans.
Reba smiled to herself despite the uncertainties before them. The outcome of the battle had been partly determined on Earth during the selection process. She and Trexler had chosen well. Terrans were going to show their value to everyone today.
* * * * *
The two of them stared out at the oncoming horde. Seven and one-half squadrons had the job of slowing down the approach of 37 enemy squadrons. They didn’t have to slow the enemy down very much, an hour would allow the rest of Trexler’s squadrons to catch up, but an hour of fighting between capital ships was an eternity, and the enemy had five squadrons to each of Reba’s.
Sara sensed Reba’s unease through the net, and she sensed the unease from the rest of her crew which was tied to her through the net. She directed a thought to all of them.
“Admiral Trexler knows. He won’t let us down. He has six fast squadrons that no one can see – their beacons are off. I’ll bet they’re nearby, ready to pounce after the first shot, and they are much more capable than the enemy knows. The real odds are four-to-one. We haven’t handled those odds before, but I think we can.”
She gave that statement a few heartbeats to sink in, then said, “I’m raising the bar. We’re not just going to slow them down. Let’s show these Rebels what we’re made of. I want us to take out all of them before the rest of our guys get here.”
Stunned thoughts flooded the net. She grinned. “Don’t think about 37 enemy squadrons. Think about 4, just the number 4. Our job is to take out 4 enemy squadrons. We have a two-cruiser combination to do it, not a cruiser-frigate. I’ve never seen a two-cruiser combination in action before, but neither has the enemy. We’re going to kick some butt today.”
* * * * *
A little while later, the Rebel/Chessori fleet split up. Fifteen squadrons continued inbound to battle Reba’s inner squadrons, and 22 reduced speed to meet the oncoming fleet of ten outer squadrons. Clearly, the Rebels did not see Trexler’s six fast squadrons.
Sara turned a beaming countenance to her crew. “We just won, guys,” she announced. “The odds are better than two-to-one, and I guarantee us a win. We won’t ease off, it’s still going to be a hard fight, but we’re going to shine. Be aggressive, not defensive.”
* * * * *
When the Rebels split up, Trexler grinned. They must be truly confident of the superiority of the scree. He said to Chandrajuski, “They just made a determining mistake. The battle is ours.”
The battle was his now. He ordered his inner squadrons back, delaying their attack. He wanted both of his battle groups to engage at the same time. He had no intention of letting either group of Rebels learn his tactics before they engaged. He assigned three fast squadrons to flank each of the Rebel groups. When the attack started, they would materialize beside their targets with complete surprise.
His job as fleet commander was just about over. He took command of the inner battle group and assigned a senior admiral to command the outer battle group.
To the Rebels, the approaching battle probably looked like a win. They had 37 squadrons against 17 squadrons of defenders, better than two to one odds, and they likely had the scree. Trexler had no doubt they felt confident. They didn’t know about his 6 invisible squadrons, and they didn’t know about the Terrans’ immunity to the scree.
Both of his battle groups approached the Rebels. Suddenly, the scree sounded. Trexler, was the only one left functioning in the operations center, and on the bridge, it would only be Terrans flying the ship. His lips formed into a thin smile: he had trained his men for exactly this. He no longer confronted fully manned Rebel ships – he was now up against limited crews of Chessori.
Chessori aboard the Rebel ships held their fire. Trexler notified all his ships to hold fire until the Chessori took the first shots. It looked to him like the Chessori were confident their scree had disabled the crews of his ships. Overconfidence by the enemy was a gift no commander would turn down.
* * * * *
Reba received orders from Trexler: previous target assignments were cancelled. She was to hold fire until the Chessori took their first shots. He expected the Chessori to merge with his ships before that happened. She was to take on the nearest enemy ship unless directed otherwise.
Sara ordered her sister cruiser in closer. It took the position normally occupied by a frigate. Since no one knew exactly how this new ship combination was going to work out, they would start with what they knew, and improvise as necessary.
Reba’s leg was on fire with Cassandra relegated to her lower left leg, but she had been through the scree for hours on end during her previous fighting and had learned to cope.
The Chessori neared, and her gunners held their fire, but the net practically sung with anxiety. Reba double-checked all her shields at full strength, and everything else was in order. The Chessori slowed, and the two fleets began to merge. An eerie, surreal sensation filled Reba as, through her senses on the net, she watched enemy ships sliding between the ships of her battle group. Still no word to open fire from Trexler, and the Chessori held their fire, moving into perfect firing positions.
Sara’s target changed, but no one needed to tell her. A Chessori squadron approached, and another stood off slightly. Sara passed the word: both ships in her squadron would engage the nearby squadron first, inflicting as much damage as they could before the second squadron moved in.
Guns on the enemy cruisers opened up, but almost lazily, as if the Chessori believed they had all the time in the world. The guns on Reba’s two cruisers exploded, sending a tremendous barrage of fire into the enemy cruiser that, clearly, was not prepared. The enemy cruiser did not just go dead in space – it exploded, completely disintegrating.
Fighting stopped for a moment. The crew was stunned, and so, apparently, were the attacking Chessori. Reba didn’t give her crew a chance to rejoice. She still had the other enemy cruiser and four frigates to deal with. “Shift target,” she ordered Sara.
Sara quickly brought her two cruisers into range of the second enemy cruiser. Meanwhile, Reba issued orders to her gunnery officer: “Those frigates are going to gang up on us. Your target is the cruiser, but keep an eye on defense.”
“Aye, Ma’am.”
She passed the same word to her sister ship, then began a quick assessment of her shields. She met her engineer doing the same.
“We’re solid, so far,” he informed her.
“It’s going to get harder. No breaks,” she ordered.
Back to the big picture: Sara was just engaging the enemy cruiser. It was two-to-one odds in her favor, but she had to contend with four frigates as well. Combined, those four frigates could mount a formidable offense.
Every gun on the ship barked continuously. Her batteries only had one gunner each, so all the guns in that battery fired on the same target. Most remained offensive, but the massed firepower of two batteries from each of Reba’s cruisers held the frigates at bay. A frigate’s shields simply had no chance against such barrages.
“Bang!” sounded through the net. A shield had been penetrated with a direct hit on the hull. Reba raced to check, but the hull had not been breached. Sara clung to her target, as did her sister ship. A moment later, “Screech!” from a glancing hit on the hull. Her guns kept up a constant pounding.
Suddenly, “Bang!” The whole ship shook. Number 7 battery exploded out into space, opening a major hull breach. Reba raced to check on it, but her engineer was already there.
“The AI has it under control,” he said. “I could use some help with the shields.”
“I’ll take forward,” she said. She didn’t wait for a response. She checked in with the gunnery officer, but he had already reassigned the gunner from the destroyed battery to another battery.
“Bang!” again. Reba raced through the net, giving the AI a push now and then as shields became dangerously weakened. “Screech!” Another glancing blow. Reba focused on the big picture again. Her ship’s readiness numbers were acceptable, and so were the numbers of her sister ship. The Chessori cruiser was not doing so well. Its numbers indicated less than 80% shields and 40% guns.
It gave up the fight and turned tail.
Sara’s cheer of victory echoed throughout the web as her fist pumped the air. “Yee-ha!”
Her body, normally sprawled in her seat, even sat up straight, leaning forward to urge the ship faster. “Stay on it,” she yelled to her sister ship. Batteries from both ships opened up on the stern of the fleeing enemy. With so much firepower striking in one place, it’s shields quickly overloaded. The Chessori cruiser exploded violently rather than simply dying, just as its partner had.
Sara chose new targets, the frigates. They knew they had no chance and fled instantly, splitting up in different directions.
Reba put in a call to Trexler for a new target. While she waited to get through, she studied the big picture. Every single enemy cruiser was either dead or close to it. Numerous enemy frigates raced around, almost aimlessly, seeming intent on avoiding contact with the more powerful cruisers. Her own squadron chased down another frigate and took it out in moments.
Suddenly, Trexler came on, speaking to all squadrons. “Disengage. Let the survivors go.”