Exodus: Empires at War: Book 06 - The Day of Battle

by Doug Dandridge

  Once again the ships released a full spread of plasma torpedoes, again raising a shield of superhot gas ahead of the missiles, with similar results to the first deployment. A thousand missiles still made it through, heading for the nearest target, into the mass of beam weapons and a wall of material fire.

  Augustine I shook with the blasts of a couple of near misses, then shook with the fury of a glancing hit. Fortunately for the ship, the missiles were not travelling more than point zero two light, not enough kinetic energy to break through the twelve meters of carbon alloy armor. The gigaton range warheads did much more harm, serious damage to armor and surface installations, even to weapons and systems underneath the hull. Augustine slowed in her acceleration by forty gravities, and klaxons sounded throughout the ship.

  “We’ve lost one of the wormholes, you Majesty,” called out Kelso over the com. “We have one quarter of our relativistic velocity missile capacity.”

  Sean nodded as he stared at a vid of another his ships, this one of the dreadnought Imperium. The ship sustained two hits similar to what Augustine endured. The next two hit directly head on, detonating and sending its blast waves through the hull and into the ship. At first it looked like the ship was still going to survive. Until the warheads stored internally went off and the entire front third of the vessel disappeared in a flash, while the rest of the ship flew backwards in a slow tumble, dead.

  Augustine and Archduke Leslie both continued to fire, the latter ship still intact. Again they released a swarm of missiles at relativistic velocities, a little more than a half what the three ships had released before.

  “I think we need to consider taking this ship out of action, your Majesty,” said Kelso.

  “This ship will remain in action, Admiral,” said Sean in a tone that brooked no argument. “We need her firepower, right here and now.”

  “Maybe we can get you through one of the wormholes back to the Donut,” said the Admiral, obviously looking for a way to get his Monarch to safety.

  “I don’t know if that is really getting me to safety,” said Sean, looking over at Jennifer. “I can’t retire this vessel. And we need the wormhole. I’m sorry.”

  “Do what you have to do, Sean,” she said, trying to smile through her nervous expression. The ship shook again.

  “We’re starting to fall behind, your Majesty. At least let me order the rest of the force to stay with us, so we can still coordinate our firepower.”

  Sean took a moment to think about that, and decided it was reasonable. “Give that order, Admiral, in my name. But I want us to continue firing on the enemy at our fastest rate.”

  He looked back at the holo, noting that the enemy force was also reducing their acceleration. So you bastards can’t handle that kind of acceleration forever either, he thought. We still won’t be able to catch you, not with this vessel damaged. But we don’t have to. He saw that enemy ships were continuing to drop back from the fleet, those too badly damaged to keep up, and his force was continuing to snap them up, weakening the enemy fleet in a death of a thousand cuts.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  CONGREEVE SYSTEM.

  The Great Admiral stared at the tactical holo that was showing his situation within the system. That situation did not give him much hope for his survival. His main fleet was retreating, and was putting distance between himself and the smaller pursuing enemy force. That was the good news, though that pursuing force was still launching missiles at high relativistic velocities at his ships, which were orders of magnitude more effective than the missiles he was throwing at them. He was getting some proximity hits, and almost wanted to shout as he saw one of the enemy ships explode on the vid, a minute after the fact. That joy was tempered by the realization that he had killed a mere destroyer, and another of his supercruisers was beginning to drift back, where it would be picked off by those impossible beam weapons of the two remaining giant ships.

  I could reverse my acceleration, and bring them to close combat, he thought, dismissing that idea immediately. It was more important to meet up with his smaller force, coming steadily into the system, and blasting his way out, than taking simple revenge on a galling force.

  The rest of the information on the holo was much more depressing. Thousands of objects that had not been there an hour ago. Warships, missiles, everything on the move. Everything heading his way. In the outer system it was no better. The other force, half the size of his, was being chased by missiles fired from outside the system. It did not look to be an overwhelming swarm, but still enough to cause serious loses. Loses he couldn’t afford if he wanted to beat it out of the system.

  “They’re back, my Lord,” yelled out the Tactical Officer.

  The Great Admiral didn’t have to ask the male what he was talking about. The faster than light attack fighters, another of the humans’ impossible but existing weapons, were again in normal space and coming in on the attack. He watched the display, waiting for the icons of missiles to appear. The enemy ships came closer, unleashing blasts of lasers and particle beams. The particle beams winked out after a few seconds, leaving the ships with only the light amp weapons.

  “They are just a distraction,” said the Great Admiral with a smile. “They have no sting left.”

  The beam weapons struck, those coming from ships that were on an approach that allowed them to attack, which was not all of them by any means. They did little against the cold plasma fields of warships. His weapons reached out and killed two score of the enemy ships, some little revenge for what they had done to him.

  And then the attack ships released their final weapon, each dropping hundreds of one kilogram penetrators, boosting toward the nearest target ships with their miniature drives. They were too small and fast for efficient tracking. Sweeping beams still struck some hundreds of the weapons, but thousands hit, their antimatter charges blasting fifty kiloton explosions into the hulls of the ships.

  Most of the damage was superficial. Some wasn’t. Thirty-three vessels, including five superbattleships, lost acceleration, and started to drop through the formation, where they would eventually fall behind to be killed by the human following force.

  “They’re gone,” said the Tactical Officer, looking back with an expression of relief.

  And why are you relieved, fool, thought the Great Admiral, grimacing. A nuisance is no longer within range, and that is all.

  He looked back at the tactical plot, focusing in on his own outer system force, watching as the missile swarm that was heading their way came into engagement range of the force’s beam weapons. Counters had been taking them out by the hundreds before then. A dent in the swarm, and nothing more. Now more missiles began dropping off the plot as lasers and particle beams started to reach out and blast them. Enough of them were dropping off the plot that he was beginning to think they might get through it with minimal casualties. Until thousands of more arrows appeared on the plot, as objects that hadn’t been tracked engaged their engines.

  * * *

  The smaller Ca’cadasan force, after losses of some one hundred battleships and three hundred smaller vessels, was making progress fighting off the enemy missile swarm. The flagship’s AI was tallying the probabilities, and was in the process of presenting the High Admiral in charge that they were likely to weather the storm, with the loss of no more than two score vessels. As there was not a following swarm, the Admiral was beginning to think that most of his force would link up with the Great Admiral’s, giving them enough mass to destroy the bulk of the enemy force on the way out of the system.

  Then the new arrows appeared, tens of thousands of them, velocity and acceleration figures appearing underneath. Most of the arrows were missiles, traveling at point nine light and starting to track onto targets. There were thousands of what had to be attack fighters, not massive enough to be the new impossible ships. But enough of them that they were still a significant threat. Each carried four short range missiles, which they launched moments after appearing on the s
can.

  The Ca’cadasan force was not prepared for the new attack. They fought their ships to the best of their capabilities, and the attacking force was severely mauled in the attack, losing thousands of missiles on approach, and hundreds of attack fighters in passing. But when those fighters had passed, over half the Ca’cadasan force had been reduced to debris and plasma, while most of the surviving ships were damaged to some extent. Most of that force might still be able to meet up with the main fleet, but would not be able to keep in formation on the way out.

  * * *

  “What’s the word on the Donut?” asked Sean, looking away from the tactical holo for a moment.

  “It’s still there,” said Kelso, trying to monitor ten things at once, including their guest from the Lords.

  Sean looked at the Archduke on the holo, and had to admit that the man was holding up well in his first action. It scared the piss out of me, he thought of his first action. He glanced over at Jennifer, who was also holding up well. But then, this isn’t her first action. Not by a long shot.

  “Unfortunately, so are the Cacas,” said Kelso, frowning.

  We’ve done all we can do there, thought the Emperor, trying to diffuse that worry for the moment, as there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Main strike will hit the Caca fleet in four minutes,” called out the Flag Tactical Officer, grabbing the attention of all and focusing it on the matter at hand.

  This was no diversionary strike, there were no ships and missiles coasting in without active engines. What they saw on the plot was what was there. Over a hundred thousand missiles, moving in at well above point nine light all, the total magazine loads of all the ships in the system. There would be no second strike of this density. The only ships that still had missile capability were those equipped with wormhole launchers, a mere thirty-three vessels and just over forty tubes.

  “This is it,” said Sean, holding Jennifer’s hand and trying to will the missiles to their targets. The timer counted down, second by second, as missile arrows fell off the plot as they and their graviton emitting engines were destroyed. Over a hundred thousand went down to under that hundred thousand, then decreased by more than ten thousand a minute, until only eight thousand missiles made it to engagement range. Of these, over eight hundred made hits, while a little over six thousand went for proximity detonations.

  In the blink of an eye half the Ca’cadasan fleet was gone, dropped off the plot. Not as much as the Emperor was hoping for, but about what he expected. More damaged ships started to drop behind the formation, and the pursuing force sent another spread of wormhole launched missiles into those damaged vessels, adding more kills to the total.

  Over the next half hour it was the turn of the Cacas, the missiles they had launched well after those of the humans were boring in on their targets. Missiles that were not that effective against the human pursuing force were much more so at longer ranges, striking at point nine five light.

  Sean forced himself to watch as his own ships started to drop off the plot. Over time, based on their distance from the enemy. Some task groups escaped engagement altogether, while others were treated to truly killing swarms. Entire task groups disappeared, while others were untouched. A half an hour after the first kill it was over, and Sean found himself crying as he thought of all the humans lives aboard the hundreds of ships blotted from the Universe. Eight hundred of them, he thought as the figures started coming back through the AI. Over a hundred and fifty thousand people. Dead, following my orders. It was the largest loss the fleet had endured since the beginning of the war. And, even though they had inflicted the heaviest losses the enemy had yet sustained, it didn’t seem worth it.

  “You had to do it,” said Jennifer, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t kill those people. The enemy did. And they would kill all of us if you didn’t stop them.”

  Sean nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his free hand. My anchor, he thought, looking into her eyes. My balance.

  “Kelso,” he said, looking up at the com holo. “Get me Len on the com.”

  Lenkowski appeared on the holo, and from the haunted look in his eyes, Sean could tell the casualties were also affecting him to the core.

  “It’s up to you now, Admiral,” said Sean. “A thousand of their ships are going to make it to hyper. I don’t want them to get away.”

  “We’ll try our best, your Majesty,” said Len, determination on his face. “We’ve about shot our wad as well. The wormhole ships will still be able to hit them, but I don’t think that will be enough.”

  “Do your best, Admiral. That’s all I can ask. Hurt them as much as possible, but don’t risk too much of your force in close actions. Long range strikes only.”

  “I am already gathering my groups into defensive formations,” said the Admiral. “That will give us a better chance of weathering whatever fire they still have.”

  “Our AI is telling us they can’t have much left,” said Kelso, conferencing onto the com.

  Sean looked at the plot, watching as Lenkowski moved his forces from their pre-battle deployment of concealment to a state of concentration, where the massed defensive fire of his groups could defeat all but the largest of missile attacks. Should have known that Len would do what needed to be done, without me looking over his shoulder.

  “Keep us appraised of your status, Len,” said Sean. He cut the transmission. “Now get me Mgonda on the com.” Mgonda was in command of the small fleet known as the hyper VII Battle Force, all ships capable of keeping up with the Cacas in hyperspace.

  The Duke was on his bridge as he appeared on the holo. His face was also troubled, and Sean knew the man had been following the battle on the wormhole com. He lost friends this day, just like the rest of us. Sean thought about that for a moment, revising those thoughts. The long term admirals, having served many decades longer than he had been alive, had lost many more friends than he had.

  “Are you OK, your Majesty?” asked the Duke, pulling the Monarch from his thoughts.

  “Just thinking, your Grace. How many ships from the scouting forces have you gathered?”

  “Almost all of them, your Majesty,” said the man who had commanded the sector at the beginning of the war, before being given a real combat command. “Do you want me to put the plug in?”

  I wish you could, thought Sean. He would have liked nothing better than to prevent the entire enemy force from leaving, destroying them utterly. That did not seem possible at this time, due to his miscalculations, or to some other factor? “You are not to put the plug in, your Grace. Instead, I want you to follow whatever enemy gets out of here back to Conundrum, and hit them the entire way, at the least risk to your own force. We’ll hit them again in the near future, and finish them.” When that star supernovas, and we can sneak up on them.

  “That’s one order I will be glad to obey, your Majesty,” said the Duke.

  I knew you would. Every commander’s dream, hurt the enemy without risking your own ships. “We have reason to believe that the enemy is low of missiles, so don’t give them an easy target. Sean out.”

  “You did what you could,” said Jennifer, again trying to comfort him.

  “I did enough. This will rip the heart out of their fleet, and I have another surprise coming their way. Soon.”

  * * *

  THE DONUT.

  “We have a track on an enemy force moving by tram to the lower port section of the station,” said the Marine Commander of station security.

  “What are you going to do about it, Colonel?” asked Jimmy Chung. He had a holo globe open so his entire command staff could listen in on the military com.

  “We’re going to send a Company of Marines in heavy armor to the end point of the tram, going outside the station.”

  Cornelius was listening in, and was happy that he wasn’t one of those Marines. They couldn’t pay me enough to go out there with that bottomless pit in the sky, he thought, imagining the black hole that was, to his
mind, waiting for the opportunity to eat anything it could pull in. The two Naval Commandos seemed to understand the problem better than Cornelius and the other seven Rangers in his group.

  Cornelius pulled up the schematic of the station on another holo globe, so that everyone could follow along. The trams they were talking about, really a high speed train, ran both around the circumference of the station, and every twenty kilometers to both sides, giving the people living aboard the Donut a fast and efficient means of travel from point to point.

  “I suggest that we take this tram here,” said the Ranger, looking at the IIA agent and the Marine General on the holo. “We can reach the edge of the station soon after the enemy, then work our way the twenty kilometers up the station to where they are sure to plant the bomb.”

  “But, can we get there in time?” asked Chung, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the schematic.

  “It beats sitting around doing nothing,” said the General, looking over at Cornelius. “I think the Lieutenant is correct. My men will hit them from one side, giving your force a chance to take them from the other.”

  Chung still looked unsure, and Cornelius really couldn’t blame him. It’s out of his experience, and he’s being asked to trust his people to other people he doesn’t know.

  “I know I can’t order you to do it, Chung,” said the General. “But I intend to give just that order to the Rangers and Commandos. We think we have a way to deal with the weapons, thanks to Dr. Yu, but it won’t do much good if we can’t actually get to them. And it would really help if you brought your guns along with them.”