Frontiers Saga 12: Rise of the Alliance

by Ryk Brown

  “Target the area of the failed shield, Lieutenant,” Nathan ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” the lieutenant acknowledged from the Aurora’s tactical station.

  “I’m only showing eight Falcons at the standoff point,” Mister Navashee added. “Target is firing! Rail guns and missiles! Impact in ten seconds!”

  “Firing all forward tubes!” Lieutenant Eckert announced. “Firing all plasma cannons!”

  “Stand by to jump us out,” Nathan ordered.

  “Jump nine, plotted and ready,” Mister Riley assured him.

  “Five seconds!” Mister Navashee warned.

  “All weapons away!”

  “Snap jump!” Nathan ordered.

  “Jumping!” the navigator answered.

  The blue-white jump flash washed over the bridge as Nathan turned to face port. “Scan the platform for damage. I want to know if any of our weapons made it to their hull.”

  “From this position, there’s a twenty second delay due to distance, sir.”

  “Understood.”

  “Coming about for next jump,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm.

  “Very well.” He rotated his chair further to his left to face his tactical officer directly behind him. “Eight Falcons, after only three total passes.”

  “At that rate, they’ll be wiped out in three more,” the lieutenant pointed out.

  “More like two,” Nathan commented. “That platform’s weapons systems probably get more dialed in with each wave, and there’s only so much evasive action those pilots can make at those speeds.” Nathan sighed. “Comms, broadcast an order to those Falcons. They are to disengage and await further orders when they get down to four ships remaining.”

  “Yes, sir,” Naralena answered.

  “I’m getting sensor data from our last attack,” Mister Navashee reported. “Two of our torpedoes made it through and impacted the hull, but the damage was minimal. Surface only, no breaches to their hull.”

  “Any chance we made the hole bigger?” Nathan hoped.

  “No, sir.”

  “Comms, add to the message. Tell the Falcons to concentrate on opening up that hole.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s going to make their flight paths easier to predict,” Lieutenant Eckert warned.

  “I know, Lieutenant,” Nathan admitted solemnly, “I know.”

  “Turn completion in two minutes,” Ensign Hunt reported from the Celestia’s helm.

  “That is one agonizingly slow turn,” Luis commented from the tactical station.

  “You’ve got that right,” Ensign Hunt grumbled.

  “Can’t be helped,” Cameron reminded them. “We’ve got to give the Aurora time to get into position. We can’t all be jumping into the same target at the same time.” Cameron turned to look back over her shoulder at Luis. “How are our cannons holding out?”

  “They’re getting pretty hot, sir,” Luis warned, “but at least this slow turning is giving them time to cool down a bit more. They should hold.”

  “How is our propellant holding up, Ensign?” Cameron asked her helmsman.

  “Lost more than half of the starboard tank,” Ensign Hunt reported. “They were able to transfer about a third of it into another tank before it vented completely. We’ve still got more than enough propellant to continue, though.”

  “Very well. How are we doing on casualties?” Cameron called over her shoulder to her comms officer.

  “Five dead, eleven wounded. Four of them need to be transferred to the Aurora for surgery as soon as possible,” Ensign Souza reported.

  “Very well,” Cameron responded without reaction. She wondered how long it would take to become accustomed to people dying under her command.

  “Jesus! They’re getting slaughtered down there!” Josh exclaimed as he watched the sensor data being displayed on-screen from the Falcon’s latest attack run on the Jung battle platform.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Loki warned as he too monitored the sensor readings.

  “Think about what?” Josh defended.

  “About jumping us in there to pull off some super-Josh-pilot-maneuver to save the day… That’s what.”

  “But…”

  “There’s nothing you can do that they aren’t already doing, Josh, and you know it.”

  “But it worked before!”

  “Just because it worked on one platform doesn’t mean it will work on every platform. Maybe this one has faster gun turrets? Or maybe this one has better tracking systems, or a better commander, or a…”

  “All right, all right!” Josh interrupted. “You’ve made your point.” Josh sighed. “It’s just hard to sit here and watch them die, you know?”

  “I know,” Loki agreed, “but it’s not our call. Unless ordered otherwise, we sit here and wait… and watch.”

  “I can handle the waiting,” Josh said. “It’s the watching that’s hard.” One of the icons on his display screen representing the attacking Falcons suddenly flashed red, then faded away. “Jesus, there goes another one. They’re down to five, Loki.”

  “Jump ten, complete,” Mister Riley announced as the Aurora’s jump flash faded, returning the bridge to its usual red-tinged battle lighting.

  “Five and a half kilometers from her starboard arm, seven hundred meters above and three hundred to her starboard side.”

  “Are the Falcons clear?”

  “They’re jumping out now,” Mister Navashee added. “Five jump flashes.”

  “Five? That means they lost three in that pass,” Nathan exclaimed. “Comms, order the Falcons to hold at the staging point and await further orders.”

  “Yes, sir,” Naralena answered.

  “Full spread into the aft side of her starboard arm, Lieutenant,” Nathan ordered. “Fire when ready.”

  “Targeting aft aspect, starboard arm. Full spread, aye,” the lieutenant answered.

  “Mister Riley, as soon as he fires, jump us forward, even with her forward arm,” Nathan ordered.

  “Firing all forward tubes,” Lieutenant Eckert reported.

  “Helm, yaw hard to port as we jump,” Nathan added as the red-orange light of the departing plasma torpedoes flashed over the bridge in rapid succession.

  “Firing plasma cannons,” the lieutenant added.

  “As soon as our nose comes around and onto their bow, target that hole in her shields and fire everything you’ve got, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Jump plotted and locked,” Mister Riley reported.

  “Swing our nose hard to port! Snap jump!”

  “Yawing to port!” Mister Chiles responded.

  “Jumping!” Mister Riley followed.

  “Weapons charged and ready!” Lieutenant Eckert reported as the jump flash washed over the bridge.

  “Jump complete!” Mister Riley announced as the jump flash subsided.

  “Nose is coming around!” Mister Chiles reported from the helm. “Firing angle in five seconds!”

  “Is the hole in her shields still there?” Nathan asked with obvious urgency.

  “Yes, sir!” Mister Navashee answered, “and it’s slightly larger than before!”

  “Targeting!” Lieutenant Eckert reported.

  “She’s firing!” Mister Navashee warned from the sensor station. “Incoming rail gun fire! The big stuff!”

  The bridge shook violently as rounds from the battle platform’s massive rail guns slammed into the side of their hull.

  “Firing all torpedoes!” Lieutenant Eckert announced. “Firing all plasma cannons!”

  The bridge flashed with red-orange light as their weapons departed. The bridge shook again and again as more rail gun rounds plowed into them.

  “Hull breaches! Port side! Forward sect…”

  Nathan was suddenly pushed upward out of his seat momentarily as the entire ship seemed to lunge upward as it shook even more violently than before.

  “Fire! Fire in the port forward propellant tank!�
�

  “What?” Nathan exclaimed. “Propellant can’t burn without oxygen!”

  “They’ve got to be using some sort of incendiary rounds!” Lieutenant Eckert surmised. “Maybe something with an oxidizing element or somethi…”

  The bridge shook again, this time causing them to roll to starboard.

  “Jesus!” Nathan exclaimed. “Escape jump! Now, now, now!”

  “Jumping!” Mister Riley announced as the bridge again became awash in brilliant, blue-white light.

  “Five,” the lead pilot of Alpha squadron mumbled in exasperation. “Of fourteen of us, there are only five of us left… And in only five passes. Are we even making a dent in that thing’s shields?”

  “We hit a few more emitters on that last run, sir,” his weapons officer answered from the back of the cockpit. “That’s about all I can tell you.”

  “Can we even survive another run?”

  “Doubtful,” the weapons officer answered. A light flashed on his console, and he pressed the corresponding button to display an incoming message. “Looks like we won’t have to, sir. Message from the Aurora. We’re ordered to move to the local staging point and await further orders.”

  The pilot closed his eyes for a moment, as he accepted that not only had ten of his friends died, but that they had failed at their mission. Both targets were still alive and fighting back quite vigorously. “The last one had been so easy,” he sighed.

  “Sometimes you get lucky,” the weapons officer said.

  “And sometimes you don’t,” the pilot finished. “Changing course for staging point Bravo Papa.”

  “Incoming message from the Aurora,” Ensign Souza announced from the comm station at the back of the Celestia’s bridge. “They’re suggesting that we target the hole in the battle platform’s starboard shields on her forward arm. They also are warning us to keep some distance to avoid incendiary rail gun fire from the platform’s big guns.”

  “Did they report their battle damage to you?” Cameron wondered.

  “No, sir, that was it,” Ensign Souza assured her.

  “Jump nine plotted and locked,” Mister Jakoby reported. “Shall I alter it to put us even with the target’s bow?”

  “Affirmative,” Cameron answered, “and put us another five kilometers out as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Be ready to target that hole in their shields,” Cameron added, calling over her right shoulder to her tactical officer behind her.

  “Yes, sir,” Luis answered from the tactical station.

  “Ensign Hunt, bring our nose around so that we’re ready to fire.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I’d like to try and pull this off without taking any of those incendiary rounds, if possible,” Cameron added. “So don’t any of you wait for my orders. Jump in, fire, jump out.”

  “Jump nine, recalculated and locked in,” Mister Jakoby reported.

  Cameron glanced at the helm console directly in front of her, noting the ship’s current attitude in relation to their course, as well as the current rate at which the ship was yawing to port. “Snap jump on my mark,” she said as she continued to watch the helm’s attitude and turn rate displays. “And……mark.”

  “Jumping,” Mister Jakoby announced as the Celestia’s jump flash quickly built, washed over them, and then subsided. “Jump complete.”

  “I’ve got the target!” Luis reported. “Locking all weapons.”

  “Target is firing main rail guns!” Ensign Kono exclaimed.

  “Stand by to jump!” Cameron warned.

  “Firing all forward torpedoes!” Luis announced as red-orange light flashed repeatedly across the bridge. “Firing plasma cannons!”

  “Incoming fire! Five seconds!” Ensign Kono reported.

  “All weapons away!” Luis announced as the last plasma cannon fired.

  “Jump!” Cameron ordered.

  “Jumping!” Mister Jakoby acknowledged.

  “Lock onto the battleship’s aft end and fire as quickly as possible,” Cameron ordered as their jump flash subsided.

  “Jump complete!” Mister Jakoby announced.

  “Commander!” Ensign Kono called out in alert. “The battleship has changed its attitude!”

  “We’re looking at her starboard side!” Luis realized, “not her stern!”

  “Their shields?”

  “Her aft shields are back up, but only at forty percent!” Ensign Kono replied. “Her starboard shields are at full strength!”

  “No choice!” Cameron realized. “Fire at will!”

  “Firing all forward tubes!” Luis answered as the bridge again filled with red-orange flashes of light.

  “I’m picking up a message buoy!” Ensign Souza reported from the comm station. “From the Aurora! They’re new jump coordinates!”

  “Feed them to navigation!” Cameron ordered.

  “Firing plasma cannons!” Luis announced.

  “Stand by to jump,” Cameron ordered.

  “All weapons away!”

  “Jump!”

  The words had barely past her lips when the blue-white jump flash washed over them again.

  “Jump complete,” Mister Jakoby reported.

  “See if we did any damage to either target, Ensign,” Cameron ordered her sensor operator.

  “Scanning now,” Ensign Kono answered.

  “It looks like the Aurora has us changing our jump angle to account for the battleship’s change in attitude,” Mister Jakoby said as he examined the new jump plots transferred to him from the comm station.

  “Very well.”

  “Uh, sir?” Mister Jakoby said. “You might want to look at these.”

  Cameron leaned forward in her command chair, peering at the jump plotting display. “That’s different,” she said. “Better triple-check your plot on that last jump, Mister Jakoby, or this battle will be over real quick.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Comms, send a message to the Aurora and let them know we received the change in plans.”

  The Jung battleship drifted in high orbit above the Alpha Centauri B system’s only inhabited body, the barren moon known as Kent. Bathed in the pale blue light from Kent’s parent body, the gas giant Rigel, she looked almost lifeless. However, though her main propulsion systems were seriously damaged, she was far from dead.

  Two flashes of blue-white light appeared to either side of the battleship’s aft end. They were no more than half a kilometer astern of the battleship, one to her left and one to her right. The two Terran ships, the Aurora and the Celestia, slid toward one another, and toward the center of the battleship’s stern, one of them high and the other low. With their bows yawing as they passed to keep their weapons trained on the stern end of the mighty Jung warship, the two ships opened up with all of their energy weapons, firing repeatedly as they slid past one another, crossing along the back end of the target. A dozen balls of red-orange plasma overwhelmed the enemy ship’s already weakened aft shields, causing them to fail completely. The rest of the incoming fire plowed into the battleship’s damaged main propulsion systems, opening up her aft end. The shock wave of the explosion reverberated off the inside of the enemy ship’s shields before the rest of them collapsed, redirecting the blast energy back onto the hull of the battleship, causing a cascade failure of her remaining shield emitters as the two Terran ships disappeared in simultaneous flashes of blue-white light. The great battleship was now helpless, her shields down and her weapons silent, appearing all but dead as she drifted in the pale blue light of the nearby gas giant.

  “She’s got nearly zero energy emissions!” Mister Navashee reported excitedly. “All of her shields are down. Weapons, main power, life support.” The sensor operator turned to look at his captain. “She’s adrift, sir!”

  Nathan tried, albeit unsuccessfully, not to smile. “We’ll let her be for now,” he announced. “If we’re lucky, that battle platform will try to protect her.”

  “First turn complete
d,” Mister Chiles announced.

  “Jump sixteen, plotted and locked,” Mister Riley added.

  “Execute jump sixteen,” Nathan ordered.

  “Jump sixteen, in three……”

  “It’s a hell of an asset to leave behind,” Lieutenant Eckert commented. He was not trying to control his smile.

  “Two……”

  “At the very least, we’ve decreased the number of guns shooting at us,” Nathan said as his navigator counted down to the next jump.

  “One……jumping.”

  The Aurora’s bridge again became bathed in blue-white light.

  “Jump sixteen complete,” Mister Riley announced as the jump subsided.

  “Executing next turn,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm.

  “Keep an eye out for the Celestia at her turn point,” Nathan reminded his sensor operator. “We should see them coming out of the jump as we finish our turn, even with the delay.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mister Navashee reported.

  “Damage Control, Captain,” Nathan called into his comm-set. “How are we doing, Chief?”

  “Well, we’re full of holes,” Marcus answered over the comms, “including one in the left side of our bow that’s big enough to use as a second hangar bay. But, at least we got the fires out on those decks, so there’s that. However, anytime you wanna stop putting us in front of incoming fire, feel free. You’ll hear no complaints from me, Captain.”

  “Not exactly the concise report I was looking for, Chief.”

  “Well excuse me, uh, sir. I’m still gettin’ the hang of this ‘Chief of the Boat’ crap!” he retorted, more out of frustration than anything else.

  “How are we doing on casualties?”

  “Plenty,” the chief answered. “Oh, you’re looking for a number, huh.”

  Nathan could hear someone talking to the chief in the background.

  “Uh, fifteen dead, thirty-seven wounded, I’m told, but there’s still about a dozen unaccounted for on D and E decks, forward of that big-ass hole I was tellin’ ya about, sir. I’ve got rescue crews in pressure suits with evac gear searchin’ for ’em now.”