by Dietmar Wehr
Torq could not believe what the display was telling him. All 120 Ships-of-Battle had been hit first by anti-matter particle fire from the rear and then by kinetic energy missiles! His ship’s Command Center was dead quiet as everyone watched the sidebar status display get updated with new information showing the increasing number of crippled and heavily damaged ships.
“All carriers are to actively scan to the rear. Hull defense batteries will fire on any detected craft,” said Torq in a carefully controlled voice. The last thing his carrier crew needed now was any sign of panic among the leadership. He stepped quickly over to the micro-wave detection station and looked at the return signals. There were a few contacts at extreme range that appeared to be moving rapidly away. He knew that the particle beams fired by the defense batteries would be too dispersed by the time they fired to cause any serious damage. The attacking force had gotten away. The enemy commander was learning fast from the previous battle.
“Transmission from Flagship,” said the Com Technician.
“Crippled ship crews will transfer to other ships. When all crews have been transferred, the Fleet will disengage.” Torq recognized the voice of the Fleet-of-Fleets Master, but it was also obvious from his voice that his fighting spirit had been crushed. Two thirds of the main battle force were crippled, unable to maneuver or without power. Of the remaining third, eighty-nine percent had heavy damage. In a matter of a few cyclets, the Tyrell Empire had suffered the greatest loss in its history, but there was still a chance that the enemy could be hit hard too. His attack craft had gotten into space just in time.
“Our attacking force will not be recalled. The carriers will remain here until our pilots are recovered. Is that understood.” Torq allowed his tone and volume to increase in order to drive the point home.
“The Flagship is calling, Fleet Master.”
“Torq here.”
“You will have to recall your attack force in order to render our cripples unsalvageable, Fleet Master Torq.”
“Sending that recall order now would be premature, Fleet-of-Fleets Master. Those crews will not have finished evacuating from the cripples that quickly. I recommend letting my attack force continue with their strike against the enemy carriers, and then they can finish off the cripples when they return,” said Torq calmly.
“Our crippled Ships-of-Battle must not be allowed to fall into enemy hands, Torq! It will take your pilots time to finish off the cripples, and I do not want to risk those ships being captured. Send the recall now!”
Torq did not respond right away. As the commander of all three carriers, he had an acknowledged right to operate those carriers and their attack craft as he deemed appropriate. High Command had been wise enough to recognize the dangers of having someone unfamiliar with carrier operations and tactics interfering in his decisions, but this order straddled that line. Preventing an enemy from capturing Ships-of-Battle was of primary importance, and the Fleet-of-Fleets Master was within his rights to order the attack craft to render the cripples unusable. Destroying the enemy’s carriers was also a high priority, at least for Torq, and ordering the recall now would interfere with that objective. If he refused to make the recall order and some of the cripples ended up being captured, High Command would not be so forgiving again, but if his pilots could inflict some losses on the enemy AND prevent any captures, his decision would be approved. There was one final consideration to be added to the scales. The enemy commander had proven himself to be highly capable and dangerous. A successful attack on the enemy carriers had a good chance of eliminating his opposite number, and in his mind, that was the deciding factor.
“I will allow the attack to proceed. When my pilots return, they will make certain that no Tyrell Ship-of-Battle can be salvaged by the enemy.”
“You’re disobeying an order from your superior officer?” The menace in that voice almost made Torq wince.
“I’m exercising my discretionary authority as the Master of all carriers. If any of your ships are captured, I will take responsibility for that result.
The was a pause. “So be it then. Your response has been recorded.”
The com channel cut off. Torq looked around the room and saw some of his crew nodding their approval as they turned back to their consoles.
Third Fleet Flagship(Kursk):
Eagleton was standing beside Cate when the first strike reports started coming in from his pilots. Many were claiming a hit on their target, and he could see the beginnings of a smile appear on Cate’s face.
“Preliminary reports seem to validate your attack strategy, Cag. When we’ve recovered all our stingers, Third Fleet will jump to the alternate location, and then we’ll launch a second strike.”
“How much you wanna bet that my boys and girls will just find cut up derelicts by the time the second wave gets back there?” asked Eagleton.
Harrow shook her head. “I’m not going to take that bet, but if you’re right, I hope we find the wreckage of at least two enemy carriers.”
Before Eagleton could respond, the tactical display pinged for attention and a text message scrolled across the bottom.
[MULTIPLE REFLECTED SUNLIGHT CONTACTS RECORDED BY DRONES. ESTIMATED RANGE TO CONTACTS IS 89 LIGHT-SECONDS AND DROPPING RAPIDLY.]
“Those must be your boys and…” Harrow stopped talking when she noticed that Gort was shaking his head with a worried look on his face.
“They can’t be our strike force. There hasn’t been enough time since the attack to get this close. FTO! Throw up the estimated position of the strike force on the main display.”
A triangle with the number 360 inside appeared much further away than the flashing yellow triangle with a 7 inside.
“Those contacts are enemy attack craft, Admiral,” said Eagleton quickly.
“FTO, order all carriers to fire defense batteries in the general direction of the contacts. Cag, send a message to your Strike Leader to avoid a direct approach. The Strike Force is to swing around and approach the Fleet from the opposite side. That way they won’t fly into our defensive fire.”
“Defense batteries are opening fire!” said the FTO as Eagleton ran over to the Com Station to send the FTL message. “We got hits!” shouted the now excited officer.
Harrow turned back to the tactical display and gasped as what seemed to be hundreds of flashing red icons appeared in close proximity to each other. She instantly realized what was happening. Those Tyrell attack craft were being hit by some of the dispersed streams of anti-tachyons, and enough of them were hitting the incoming craft to generate heat and other radiation that could be detected by the passive sensors aboard the carriers. Some of the icons were now disappearing as the matter/anti-matter annihilation built up sufficient energy to rip the craft apart. We’re stopping them, but are we doing it fast enough? Half the icons were gone now, but the rest were still coming closer. Harrow didn’t know what the enemy weapons’ effective range was, but she had a feeling her carriers were going to find out.
“All carriers pull back at maximum,” she said. She cursed herself for waiting so long to give the order for what should have been an obvious maneuver. If the carriers could keep the range open by retreating in front of the enemy craft, then the defensive fire would have more time to destroy them all before they could get close enough to fire. She could tell from the display that the carriers were starting to maneuver, but ships that big couldn’t turn on a dime. Just as Kursk was almost finished turning, she felt the ship shudder violently, and part of the ceiling exploded downward. She cried out in agony as a heavy piece of metal fell on her. The pain was so intense that she blacked out.
When the deep blackness faded, she began to hear sounds and tried to open her eyes. Only her right eye opened, and her sight through it was considerably blurred. Her left eye either would not open or was covered by something. She felt pain too, but it was much less than before. An obscured image moved across her field of vision, and when she blinked a few times, the blurriness disappeared t
o show Gort’s worried face looking down at her. She struggled to speak but couldn’t.
Eagleton saw her wince in pain. “Don’t try to talk or move, Cate. You’re badly hurt. The medbots worked on you for over five hours. You’re in Sickbay now. I’ll bring you up to speed on what happened. One of the enemy craft must have snuck around the edge of our defensive fire. It got close enough to fire a tight beam of anti-matter that hit Kursk and ripped deep into her, setting off secondary explosions from ruptured oxygen tanks. It was one of those explosions that forced the ceiling down on you. The left side of your body is a mess, Cate. The good news is that your life is no longer in danger, and the medbots think that the damage to your eye, left arm and left leg can be fixed with the help of implants. Your Command Chair provided enough protection to your torso that no permanent damage was done there, but it’ll be sore as hell for a while. I was lucky that I wasn’t hit by any debris. I was able to contact Waterloo and tell Shen that she was the Acting Fleet Commander. By that time, the attack seemed to be over. TacComp says we destroyed over 230 enemy craft and estimates that a dozen or so got away. By the time our Strike Force got back, we were barely able to recover all of them. All four carriers had taken some damage, and Shen made the decision to withdraw from the Metrone system without launching another strike, against my advice I might add. We’re on our way back to Sol now.” He paused and then said in a low voice. “You were lucky this time, even if it doesn’t feel that way. If that debris had fallen just a couple of centimeters to your right, it would have crushed your skull. You’ll be recovering for a while, and I’d like you to think about this. You and I both know that your strength lies in strategic thinking. If you ask for another field command, you’ll probably get it, but maybe you can do more to win this war quickly if you opt for a strategic planning slot. Just a thought. I have to go do some Cag things, but I’ll be back to visit again soon. Try to go back to sleep.”
Cate saw Gort smile at her as he moved out of her field of vision. Give up field command? If I could talk, I’d tell him what a ridiculous suggestion that is. No bloody way am I…going to… voluntarily... give... Suddenly finishing that thought seemed way too difficult. Her right eye closed as she slipped back into oblivion.
Chapter Eight:
Torq let out a roar of triumph as he watched the recording of the interrogation of a high ranking Metrone officer. The officer’s defiance had quickly turned into blubbering capitulation as the physical torture techniques did their job. There was a multi-species alliance all right, and this officer had just given the names of all the other races involved, plus the last known location of their mobile command ship. But the piece of information that had caused him to voice his elation was the naming of the race that had fielded the carriers that had destroyed over a hundred Ships-of-Battle and damaged another seventy-five. His insistence on organizing a quick third attack on the Metrone system and the gamble that the damaged enemy carriers would not be repaired that quickly had paid off handsomely. The Fleet under his overall command had taken control of the Metrone planet and its high-ranking officials. A ship would be sent back with this information, as well as his recommendation that a thousand Ships-of-Battle be assembled into four Fleets to begin the sequential extermination of those alien races the same way the Sheepul had been dealt with. And while the rest of the alien Alliance was being crushed, he would take his carriers and half of his Ships-of-Battle to the home system of those hated humans. He would eliminate their carrier threat once and for all as soon as his carriers’ attack force was brought back up to full strength with additional attack craft from the home system.
He was also pleased to learn that his opposite number (a female!) had been badly wounded in the last battle. His decision to refuse to recall his attack craft was now more than vindicated. High Command had already notified him that an expanded carrier construction program was in progress. He would have to start thinking of training a cadre of carrier Fleet Masters who would be able to use them effectively on independent missions. For a brief moment, he considered attacking the human home system with his understrength attack groups. There hadn’t been enough time before returning to the Metrone system to bring in all the attack craft from other systems that he would have liked to have had, and he only had 55% of his carriers’ normal strength. Attacking now while the enemy was still reeling from the last battle was oh so tempting, but the fact that the humans had not lost any of their attack craft tipped the decision for him. The element of surprise could only overcome a certain level of numerical superiority by the enemy. He needed to improve those odds before he threw down the gauntlet, and it was just possible that the alien alliance might launch a counter-attack here in the Metrone system with their own carriers even if they were still using their obsolete large attack ships. No, he would wait, but he could already taste victory, and it tasted sweet.
EAF HQ on Earth:
Mirakova groaned as she read the latest message couriered from the MCS. The Tyrell had attacked the Metrones again, and much faster than expected. The Metrone senior military officers had gotten an FTL message off to the MCS literally at the last possible moment before Tyrell ground troops had overrun their Capital. Her Intelligence people had predicted that failure to prevent the conquest of the Metrone would increase the probability to a near certainty that the Tyrell would learn of the Alliance, who was in it and who was responsible for their recent losses. She had to assume that Earth was now in deadly danger of a Tyrell attack regardless of how many years were left of the original Tyrell attack schedule.
In hindsight, setting up the Metrone ambush now appeared to have backfired on her, and continuing with pinprick raids as before wasn’t slowing the Tyrell down at all. She shivered with fear at the thought that the entire weight of the Tyrell Empire could come crashing down on humanity in a few weeks time. If an enemy fleet showed up in this system, she would authorize the use of their limited number of uranium fission warheads. Of that there was no doubt, but they only had a few dozen ready to use. She looked up at the wall display to remind herself of the status of Third Fleet’s carriers. Bismark Sea was back in operation, and right now it was the only carrier that wasn’t damaged. Kursk was in the worst shape, but its ability to operate stinger squadrons could be brought back up to normal in a week if the repair efforts concentrated on that first. At least they had lots of stingers. With Bismark Sea added to the mix, Third Fleet could field 420 stingers, and another 120 could be launched from the base on the moon if necessary.
She realized that she would have to make a decision on Third Fleet’s command structure quickly. Acting Fleet Commander Shen had, in Mirakova’s opinion, thrown away a priceless opportunity to inflict more losses on the Tyrell by not launching another strike. It was possible that the third Tyrell attack on Metrone might not have happened as quickly or perhaps not at all if Shen had been more aggressive. However, defending Earth from a surprise Tyrell attack did not require aggressiveness. It did require tactical savviness, and Mirakova did not know if Shen had that quality. She did know that Eagleton had it. He had proven that on at least two occasions, and Cate Harrow thought highly of him. Was he ready for fleet command? As CAG, he had commanded hundreds of stingers in actual combat conditions; Shen had not. Did she as CEO really have a choice? If she chose Shen to be Third Fleet’s permanent commander and Shen dropped the ball, she would be hard pressed to justify making that appointment, assuming that there would be anyone above her in the chain of command still alive to question it. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it was who she should choose. Gort Eagleton had earned his shot at fleet command, and he would get it.
With that decision made, she turned her attention to the question of whether the EAF should share its stinger design and fission warhead design with the members of the Alliance. Up to this point, both designs had been withheld as a way of minimizing the kinds of information that the Tyrell might get by overrunning one of the Alliance members, but that had already happened now with the Metro
ne. Therefore, in her mind, the benefits of transferring the technology now outweighed the potential negative impact. She was even considering recommending that the EAF not just transfer the technical design of the stinger but also actual stingers themselves. The stinger assembly line had ramped up to the point where pilot training could barely keep up, but there was still unused production capacity. If the other Alliance members were willing to trade fission warheads for stingers, that would benefit everyone. She wasn’t certain how her civilian bosses would feel about that recommendation, but it was worth a try. When she had finished for the day and was on her way out of her office, she felt that she had done a good day’s work. Now if only we get the time to put all the pieces together before they attack, we just might get through this crisis.
Tyrell Fleet Flagship (Natron)/Metrone star system:
Torq read the latest message from High Command. It so enraged him that he smashed his fist down on his desk hard enough to crack the surface. His recommendation for massive simultaneous attacks on alliance star systems was being deferred for the time being. Raids on other conquered systems were continuing, and High Command was unwilling to order a major redeployment at this time. His requisition for more attack craft was approved, but actual transfer of the requested reinforcements would have to wait until the defenses of certain star systems were beefed up. He was ordered to remain in the Metrone system and resist any attempt to liberate it. Those fools! That attempt had already been made! High Command hadn’t learned of it yet. Six carriers carrying the larger ships armed with long range particle beams had tried to force his fleet to retreat, but his sensor drones and attack craft had made short work of them, although his attack force had suffered some losses too. The fact that they were still using the large lumbering ships told him that these carriers had not come from the human star system. His engineers were examining the wreckage even now, and he would soon know exactly where these carriers had originated. However, that didn’t really matter now. He was convinced that eliminating the humans was the key to smashing this alliance, and in order to do that he needed more attack craft, even just to get back to the level he had after Metrone had been conquered. If his strike force continued to be whittled down in defending this one-star system, the chances of overpowering the humans in a surprise attack would also shrink. If High Command waited too long to reinforce him, the humans might launch a surprise attack on him! Did those idiots not see that?