* * *
That satisfied Fleet Admiral Tlomega. Had the Adians and their Confederation allies any new weapons, they would have used them.
Star Admiral Sab Tlorth wasn’t so sure. “We probe, they counter. We feint, they adjust. They won’t commit until we do, sir.”
“Nonsense. Let’s get this over with. I want to occupy those Prime Stations before any Confederation reinforcements arrive. One sharp blow will kink their tails and send them scurrying away.” She glowered at the telltales on the screen. “Send in Ranelth again. This time she goes straight through their lines and hits Prime Bravo. The rest of our fleet goes to Action Plan One. With us threatening all of their Primes at once, we force them to either divide their forces or give up two or three in order to properly protect one or two.” Tlomega leaned back in her chair and stretched.
“Fleet Admiral,” Sab tried to reason with her.
“Action, now!”
With no choice in the matter, Sab gave the order and the powerful Tlartox fleet began to maneuver.
HONOR
“Admiral Fenton, they are dividing as we thought they would, going after all Primes at once.” Cenet looked worried.
“Yes, so it would appear, Admiral Cenet.” Fenton appeared relaxed and Cenet wondered at her. “It is not an unexpected ploy. We will defend as agreed upon.”
“Aye, sir.” He didn’t agree, but they’d already fought that battle. Fenton had decided to not give the Tlartox anything, even if it meant losing her entire fleet piecemeal.
A force of thirty Tlartox vessels turned and drove directly for Prime Bravo. The Battleship Vindicateur, two heavy cruisers and a mix of eight Adian destroyers and Confederation frigates moved to meet them. Rear Admiral Cenet, in Honor, supported by the modern frigates Telprist and Renvolt, an Adian light cruiser and six old frigates and destroyers would take on anything that broke through. It would not be enough, Cenet thought. He watched the viewscreen, concentrating on the Adian battleship.
The massive turrets, two fore and two aft, both dorsal and ventral, began tracking the Tlartox fleet. Vindicateur moved surely on an interception course. Her screen of destroyers moved out in front and the two fleets drove headlong towards each other.
Vindicateur opened fire first, at long range, and the Tlartox fleet began evasive action, jinking up and down and to the sides while still streaming for Prime Bravo.
CRUISER PHANTOM HUNTER
Light Admiral Ranelth stared intently at her screen. They were almost... “Open fire!” Comm relayed the order and her squadron began long-range pulse fire.
“Enemy destroyers increasing speed directly towards us, sir.”
“Concentrate fire on destroyers.”
The destroyers twisted and turned but the heavy incoming fire took its toll on their shields. As one they turned broadside to the Tlartox.
“Enemy firing torpedoes. One, two, three—no, four salvos. Confederation type 20s, sir. Count one hundred and twenty-eight. Destroyers turning and retreating.”
“Full defensive fire.”
“Turn away, sir?”
“Negative. Initiate full evasive maneuvers when they reach short range. We’ll go right through them. Then we blast that battleship three hundred years into the past!”
Half the torpedoes fell to Tlartox fire before reaching short range. The Confederationtox had fired in a wide umbrella pattern and, to the surprise of Ranelth and the Tlartox, the torpedoes didn’t attempt to home in on their ships.
As the twenty-one remaining torpedoes passed through the Tlartox fleet they exploded as one. A latticework of energy spiked all frequencies.
“Shields down, sir!”
“What!”
Warning klaxons sounded.
“Enemy fleet driving straight for us.”
“Kill that battleship!” Ranelth gripped the arms of her chair, claws digging into the hardwood. They were too close to turn now; doing so would expose their vulnerable sides to enemy fire.
“Full pulse fire!”
“Full pulse, aye.”
Vindicateur loomed larger and larger. Ranelth couldn’t believe the size of the ship. Her large turrets sent out a steady stream of fire in a blanket. Not being fast enough to track the jinking Tlartox ships she counted on luck for a hit.
Phantom Hunter jolted under a direct hit. Luck.
“Hull breach!” shouted someone as more alarms sounded.
“Battleship’s shields down.”
“Pound her!” Ranelth badly wanted to kill the monster.
“Hits! Hits!”
The dorsal forward turret was a ruin, great jagged pieces torn off, weapons barrels twisted.
HONOR
“Great Chaos!” Cenet watched as the Adians drove straight towards the Tlartox. Neither side intended to divert. “What’s that?” Pods had broken away from the battleship and the two heavy cruisers.
“She’s taking a pounding, sir, maybe they’re abandoning ship?”
“I don’t think so, Captain.”
“Pods are on interception course for Tlartox ships, sir.”
“Tlartox are running without shields, sir.”
Cenet’s eyes widened. What the blue blazes went on?
“Frigate Dark Wund breaking off, sir, retiring from battle.”
“Steady. Let’s wait for them,” Cenet tried to stay calm.
PHANTOM HUNTER
“Contact the fleet. Warn them that they have shield killers. As soon as we’re through, break off and let’s get out of here.”
“Pods have broken off three of their ships, sir, heading directly towards us.”
“Count, give me a count.” Ranelth gripped the arms of her chair even tighter. “Destroy them!” she shouted. “Limpet mines. Without our shields they’ll attach themselves to us. Evade, evade!”
It was too late. A heavy thump told everyone on board that one of the pods had made contact.
“They’re much too big for mines, Admiral,” her Captain told her. Ranelth’s eyes slitted as she saw the sick knowledge in the Captain’s eyes.
Tlartox all over Phantom Hunter stared at the klaxon. They froze. Kanle Tlondel stared at her Lieutenant. “We’re being boarded?”
“Side arms!” the Lieutenant screamed and dove for the arms locker.
* * *
Inside boarding Pod 14, forty-eight marines waited in tense silence. The thought of being launched at ships still under way and with full armaments had been daunting. But they’d made it.
Lieutenant Kel Jrindar held his weapon tightly so his men wouldn’t see his hands shaking.
“Almost through,” the Marine Captain warned.
Jrindar wondered how many other pods had made it, hoped they weren’t the only one to attach themselves to this particular ship. He adjusted his helmet a final time, wondering if anyone was watching the signal from the small vid-cam attached to it.
“Go, go, go!” shouted Captain Lemensi, and the Marines boiled out of the pod directly into the Tlartox ship.
Jrindar charged through the hole. He first noticed the smell of grass and flowers, then the astonished Tlartox. He fired at her, and she screamed in agony as she went down. “To the bridge, to the bridge,” he shouted, cursing the fact that he had no idea where they were.
An airtight hatch slammed shut.
“Blow it!”
A small explosion and they were through the door. Beyond the hatch, Tlartox resistance stiffened. The man ahead of him raced up a passageway when a crewmember stepped out of a lift. Surprise on both sides was complete. The Tlartox reacted first, extending its claws and raking the man across the throat. Blood spurted out, his carotid severed.
Jrindar fired and fired and fired, not stopping even when the Tlartox lay dead on the floor. A hand came down hard on his shoulder. “He’s dead,” the voice shouted in his ear. “Let’s keep going.”
Another door, another small explosion. This time fire poured through the door before they could approach. “Grenade!” Sergeant Nentol ar
med one and threw it through the open door. The firing ceased. The marines ran. Jrindar counted four dead Tlartox on the other side.
Pain. He lay on his side, wondering how he’d gotten there. The crash of weapons fire rang loud in his ears and someone pulled at his leggings. He opened his eyes to see the medic pressing a field dressing to his leg. The man smiled. “You’ll be fine.” Jrindar nodded, wishing he could remember the man’s name. He should know it. “For the pain.” An injection. Then the medic disappeared and he sat alone with the dead. He pulled himself along the deck to the nearest bulkhead. There he turned over and sat up, leaning against it.
“The sound of firing is getting farther away,” he began talking for the benefit of the remote. He wondered if it still functioned. “I don’t know how many of us made it, but we of Boarding Pod 14 will do our best. I can’t feel my leg, now, and I don’t know if that is good or bad.” He reached down and pulled his side arm from its holster. “Guess I’d better prepare for company.” He laughed harshly.
* * *
“We’re holding them, Admiral.”
“I don’t want them held, I want them taken.” Ranelth turned. “Full speed away from their fleet. Get our ships out of here!”
“Two frigates not answering to our signal, sir.” The Comm-Tech tried again, then gasped. A human face appeared on the screen.
“Your crew fought well, Tlartox. They brought honor to their klatches. However, there were not enough of them and now there are none. We shall take good care of the ship for you.”
The screen blanked. Merciless Gods, the humans had murdered the entire crew. For a moment no one moved on Phantom Hunter’s bridge. Then everyone carried on as if they had not heard.
“We’re pushing the boarders back, sir.”
“Good. How many of those pods did they release?”
“Approximately twenty, Admiral. We destroyed five of them before they could get near. Detectors show that another five did not make contact and the enemy is retrieving them.”
* * *
“Weapons fire now growing louder. Looks like we didn’t make it.” Jrindar focused on the blown hatch. A marine backed into it then fell over and stiffened. Three more marines came through, two supporting the third.
“Too many of them,” one yelled. “We’ll try to hold them here. Get back to the pod, if you can.”
The men at the door began firing. One spun around, hit, half of his face torn away. Jrindar brought up his side arm and aimed it at the open hatch. The other two marines lay quiet now.
“Tell the folks in Ventown that I had a really good time there. They were great. I think the field dressing is loose. I see blood on the floor around it. I hear them coming.”
The weapon wavered and then steadied. Jrindar took a shuddering breath and wondered again at the smell of grass.
CHAPTER 28
HONOR
Rear Admiral Cenet watched as Vindicateur cruised slowly by them. The clean lines of the battleship were gone. Holes in her armor told the story. She had taken a pounding that would have destroyed any Confederation ship, old or modern, and yet continued to fight.
Others weren’t that lucky.
“Casualty report, Captain?”
“Frigate Dark Wund heavily damaged; frigate Lightning destroyed, no survivors; Adian destroyer Preltor is out of action, being towed back to Prime Bravo. The Vindicateur and heavy cruiser Valeur took the brunt of their fire, but both report ready for action.” Brinlerd paused for a moment. He raised his eyes from the report. “Each of those pods had fifty men and women on board. Five were destroyed, no survivors. Seven were recovered and eight made contact with the enemy.
“It’s amazing. Three of the pods attached to each of two of their frigates and the marines took them. They are ours, now. The other two pods attached to a cruiser and a frigate. Those ships have returned with their fleet.”
Cenet was appalled. “Boarding operational ships in battle. They’re all crazy. Minimum of four hundred dead. And for what? Two frigates?”
“They bought us time, sir,” Captain Brinlerd said softly. “The Tlartox have to regroup. We’ll live for another day. Reinforcements will be a day closer.”
PREDATOR
Sab Tlorth had never seen Tood Tlomega so angry. “They boarded and took ... AND TOOK two of our frigates?” Tlomega snarled and Tlorth and Blontera both fought to keep their ears from flattening against their heads. “I’ll strip Ranelth of her rank!”
“Fleet Admiral, they had unexpected weapons,” Sab regretted saying that as soon as the words were out. She had just reminded Tlomega that she had overruled Sab’s more cautious approach, which had raised that very question.
Tlomega glared at her, but calmed nonetheless. “At least they brought back prisoners. Our interrogators can find out...” She paused as Sab made a motion. “What is it, Star Admiral?”
“Interrogation will likely lead to the demise of the prisoners, sir. None of them surrendered. We took only those too injured to fight.”
Tlomega lashed her tail at the reports of the boardings. The boarders had fought with something akin to fanaticism. Ranelth was lucky, she supposed. She had sufficient people on hand to turn back the invaders with limited losses. The frigate had been less fortunate. She survived with barely enough crew to bring her back.
“An important note, sir. We now have good information on just how tough those Adian ships are. I’ve looked at the records of the battle. The battleship took enough hits to destroy three Tlartox cruisers and she still fought through the retreat. We’re lucky that their gunnery isn’t on par with their armor.”
“Good point. Recall the fleet from the Krovell system and have Tlentror’s fleet stop chasing First Fleet. They can reassemble here. Until then, we’ll use our superior speed and weaponry in a series of hit and run attacks. Chew them up a little. Then we take them, all at once, all four primes.”
Tlorth and Blontera left Tlomega’s cabin. Blontera waited until they had put some distance between them and the door. “Star Admiral, if the Primes exhibit the same resistance that the boarders did...” she allowed her voice to trail off.
Sab caught the worry in Blontera’s voice which echoed her own thoughts. “Get me all the records of the fight you can. They’ve surprised us three times now: getting onto our comm channels, disruptive warheads, and boarders. Four times if you count the toughness of those old ships. I don’t want to be caught again.” She pondered the possibilities. “We must come up with a strategy which nullifies their advantages.” She couldn’t understand why the enemy stood and fought. They could not win, only lose. All Sab wanted to do was to minimize her own casualties, let the enemy run if they so desired.
PRIME ALPHA
The alarm bells rang and Commander Meehknet rolled out of his cot and stepped though the door to the Command center in less than a minute. This was the eighth alarm of the past two days.
“Report.”
“Sir, another probe in strength.”
“Bastards.” It was starting to get to him. “I wish we could go out and mix it up with them.”
Major Britlot laughed quietly. “That’s just what they want, Commander.”
Meehknet nodded. He knew that. The defense of Lormar depended on the fleet remaining close to the Primes and the planet, denying the Tlartox space where they could use their greater speed, manoeuvrability and weaponry to best advantage. “Yes, but it’s cutting into my sleep period,” he complained out loud. “I need more pay.” He gratefully accepted the chuckles that his carping earned. Everyone was on edge, not just him.
He looked up and caught the green light on the room’s vid cam. So this was going out. Funny, at first it had bothered him, now it was just another detail he could ignore.
“All stations report ready, sir.”
Meehknet glanced at the clock. Their reactions improved with each alarm. By the time any real threat came their way, the defenders would be able to get to their positions in their sleep. That, at least, was go
od because half of them probably would do it that way.
One hour later the stand-down came. “Meratie is coming in.” The room hushed. Everyone knew what that meant. She had casualties for Mercy, the Adian hospital ship, which had taken station just under Prime Alpha. After each alarm one, two or three Adian ships made that journey, as did the odd Confederation ship—those ones bound for one of the Primes where their casualties would be treated in sickbay before the trip planetside.
Vid streams left the sickbays and Mercy as well as from the stations. Twenty berths in the hospital ship were taken by Tlartox survivors of the boarding parties. The Adian doctors seemed not to have too many problems with their different physiology.
Meehknet stumbled from the Command Center and back to his improvised sleeping quarters in the next room. He hoped that there would be a long interval before ... “ALARM!”
Meehknet cursed and rolled back off his cot.
“What is it this time?” he asked as mildly as he could manage it, for he noticed the tension in the room.
“Another Tlartox fleet just dropped.”
SEARCHER
Commander Britlot could hardly keep his eyes open. He smiled tiredly at Lieutenant Weytok as she relieved him on the bridge. He allowed his hand to trace a path across her shoulders as she took the con and he left the room.
Weytok smiled at his disappearing back. He no longer even made the smallest effort to conceal from the crew their change in status. The wonder of it all was that the crew seemed to approve entirely. It was bad for discipline, Weytok realized, yet somehow morale and discipline had ceased to be a problem. The crew was proud, yes, proud of them. She shook her head.
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