“What is it?” said Lucero.
“I have some data on the explosions of the missiles. It appears that at least one of the enemy missiles detonated itself as a reaction to the close proximity of our own missile. We’ve just read a weak electromagnetic pulse from that explosion.”
“Shit,” said Lucero.
Lund looked at her. “You’d better make sure that none get through,” she said.
Lucero nodded, “I’ll do what I can.”
“They’re gone,” said Walton. “I’ve lost all data from the missiles. That wasn’t us.”
“Their countermeasures seem to have been effective. They launched nine missiles, they took ours out,” said Baldwin.
Kostovich paced. “Okay, okay,” he said. “That was just to feel them out. Here’s what we do. Walton, prepare three nukes and three EMPs. And three standard explosive missiles.”
Walton took her eyes from her terminal to look at Kostovich directly. “Nukes? Seriously? You want to fire nukes at a USAN ship?”
Kostovich couldn’t hide his irritation. “Prepare the missiles, please. We’re not going to fire nukes at it, we’re going to fire nukes near it.”
Walton turned her gazed back to her screen, but she was not placated. Kostovich sat in front of a terminal and typed. “Keep all eyes on Ephialtes,” he said to Baldwin. “If they fire anything at us I need to know immediately.”
“We’re not in their range for another ten minutes,” said Baldwin.
“That’s what we think we know,” said Kostovich. “Just expect the unexpected and keep monitoring that ship.”
“Will do that,” said Baldwin.
Kostovich brought up a missile flight plan and patched it through to Walton. “When those missiles are ready fire them according to this flight pattern.”
“You don’t want to use the regulation flight plans?” said Walton.
“Did I stutter?” said Kostovich. “Load this flight data into those missiles and launch them as soon as you can. Okay?”
Walton was rattled. “Okay,” she said quietly as she thought about punching Kostovich in the face.
“When are those missiles going to be ready?” said Kostovich, anxiously.
“We’re waiting on the nukes. Safety protocols in the arming routine take a little longer on the nukes. We should be good in a couple of minutes.”
Kostovich scanned his terminal. “How’s Ephialtes? Any change?” he called to Baldwin.
“Steady as she goes,” said Baldwin. “No further missile launches.”
Kostovich nodded. “As soon as we’ve launched this volley of missiles prepare the same again,” he said to Walton.
“Same again, acknowledged,” Walton replied. “Less than one minute to launch for volley number two.”
Kostovich rubbed his chin nervously. Though they were based on the surface of the planet, and protected by a further four missile batteries, Kostovich felt like he was aboard Parry 5. He could feel the intense vulnerability of the little platform floating above him, and he could feel the massive weight of the task resting on it. He double-checked the missile flight plans he had sent to Walton and ran through various scenarios in his mind, testing and probing his tactics for weaknesses. He couldn’t find any, but something nagged away at the back of his consciousness: ‘What if you’ve missed something? / What have you missed?’ “How are we doing on those missiles?” he shouted across to Walton.
“Ready in a few seconds,” she replied.
In sharp contrast to the first volley time now appeared to be running at an accelerated rate, individual moments seeming disjointed. It seemed that immediately - or was it simultaneously or even before? - Walton had said there were seconds left she said, “Missiles away.”
At that same now-earlier-later moment Kostovich looked down at his screen. He saw the nine blips streak away from Parry 5 and then, as planned, they drew closer to each other forming a single large blip on his screen. He felt relieved to see the flight plans working but he worried that Ephialtes may have seen the original nine blips on their screens too. What would they have made of it? Would they figure it out? How would they try to counter it, even if they did figure it out?
‘What if you’ve missed something? / What have you missed?’
“Telemetry from all missiles is currently good, all missiles are behaving as expected,” said Walton.
“No response as yet from Ephialtes,” said Baldwin.
“Good,” said Kostovich as he watched the blip move across his screen towards a large blip on the other side.
Lund was still on the bridge when the second fusillade was launched.
“We have a fresh missile launch,” said a signals officer.
“What configuration?” said Lucero.
“It appears to be just one, but I doubt that’s the case. It’s probably a very tight formation of multiple missiles.”
“How long till impact?” said Lucero.
“Approximately four minutes,” came the reply.
Lund checked her comdev; the new routines had finished loading.
“Launch countermeasures,” said Lucero.
“Aye, aye, sir, preparing to launch countermeasures.”
“Listen,” said Lund, “we have three fully armed dropships ready to go right now. I suggest launching them immediately.”
“Thank you for that suggestion, but how is that going to help us right now?” said Lucero.
Lund nodded at the screen. “If one of those is an EMP and it gets through we are dead in the water. At least if we have some ships out of the blast range we might maintain some capability.”
“If all we have left are three dropships then the mission’s a bust anyways. Defending Ephialtes is our number one priority here.”
“I’m not talking about the mission, I’m talking about maintaining some capability in order to rescue us if we’re hit with an EMP.”
“Whatever, Lund. Do whatever you think is right,” said Lucero before barking, “Are those countermeasures ready?”
“Offensive missiles are in range, sir, launching counter measure in three, two . . .”
“Go,” said Lucero to Lund. “Get those birds in the air.”
“Missiles away, sir.”
Lund barked into her comdev, “Steiner, Meades, Hayes. I need you back in your dropships now, ASAP! This is an emergency,” as she ran back to her office.
The commanders had been following the attack on a large screen in the day room. Steiner, Meades and Hayes were still suited up from the test earlier. They ran to the hangar deck, half jumping down the stairs and cursing the artificial gravity as they stumbled to the bottom.
Lund was already loading the bay door opening routines as the three commanders clambered up into their dropships.
“Initiating checks,” said a slightly breathless Meades.
“No checks,” said Lund. “Follow emergency launch procedure, this is not a drill.”
“Emergency launch procedure initiated. Hey Lund, can you decompress?”
“Decompression is happening right now, prepare to launch.”
Hayes cut in, “I have a warning for reserve power on drone five here, please advise.”
“Ignore it, initiate emergency launch procedure,” said Lund, her mind now purely focused on launching the dropships as quickly as possible. Everything else had fallen away from her.
“Initiating launch sequence,” said Meades.
“Initiating launch sequence,” said Hayes.
“We’re about to launch here,” said Steiner, “any chance you could open the doors for us?”
Lund keyed a button on her terminal, “Initiating dropship bay door opening sequence,” she said as she flipped to another terminal showing the video feed from Steiner’s cockpit. The drop bay door was directly in front of the ship. Lund stared at the door with absolute focus.
On the bridge Lucero was staring intensely at her terminal. She could see her missiles moving towards the blip approaching them and she was w
aiting for something to happen. She wasn’t sure what it might be but she felt it might happen at any moment.
Suddenly, the approaching blip forked. There were now two blips, with nine of her own racing out to meet them.
“What just happened?” said Lucero
“I think we have a minimum of two missiles, taking different tracks to us,” said the signals officer.
“Send three of ours after the group taking the longest course. Keep six on the one still heading straight for us,” said Lucero.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the weapons officer.
Lucero saw three of her missiles peel away, adjusting their course to meet the blip that appeared to be veering away from them. “What are they doing?” she said. “How long until we have them?”
“Twenty seconds,” said the weapons officer.
As Lucero looked at the screen she could see the blip headed at them elongate and then split in two. There were now three groups heading toward them; two in line, growing further apart, and one that had split off at a tangent and was now being chased down by three of her defensive missiles.
“Hold three back for that second wave,” said Lucero.
“I can’t do that, sir,” said the weapons officer, “they’re all at full speed. We have no brakes.”
Lucero saw the tactic moments before it happened. The forward batch of the in-line group detonated as it met her own missiles. They were gone. The rear group of the pair adjusted course, taking it out of the blast radius of the three forward nukes, then adjusted again back on course for Ephialtes. There was now nothing standing between them and the approaching EMPs.
Lucero looked at the three missiles that were chasing the decoys. “Can we turn our remaining three missiles back on this pack?” she said.
“Negative, sir, our remaining missiles won’t make it back,” said the weapons officer.
“Prepare nine more missiles for launch,” said Lucero.
“Preparing missiles, Commodore.”
Everyone on the bridge understood that the missiles would take a minimum of thirty seconds to prepare. The oncoming enemy missiles would arrive at Ephialtes in less than twenty seconds.
Lucero knew she had been outmanoeuvred. “Get on the cannon,” she said to no one.
“I have the cannon, sir,” said another weapons officer. He had brought up the control program for the two plasma cannon mounted on the front of Ephialtes. They had been placed there for largely cosmetic reasons. Having limited functionality their purpose was to look suitably military and to fire the odd salute on special occasions. Now they were Ephialtes’ last thin hope of surviving a missile attack.
Lucero thought about saying something poignant and understated to the weapons officer manning the cannon but she decided against it. ‘Now we’re screwed,’ would have summed up their position nicely but, she thought, wouldn’t reflect well on her in the history books. She decided to stick with the prosaic.
“Fire at will,” she said.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the weapons officer.
Lund nearly crumpled as she saw the first drop-bay door start to open. The relief was physical. Until it happened she had no awareness of how tensed up she had been. She quickly flipped up the feeds from the other two bays; they were opening too.
“Bay doors are opening, prepare to launch,” she said.
“Ready to go here,” said Steiner, Meades and Hayes concurring.
Lund had the radar screen up on one of her terminals. From the corner of her eye she saw Ephialtes’ missiles disappear and the final wave of attack missiles swerve gracefully as they continued on towards Ephialtes itself.
“Launch NOW!” she said.
“Dr Lund, the bay door -”
“NOW! Launch Now! Shoot the doors out if you have to!”
Steiner’s ship dropped from its mount and sped out of the bay. “I’m clear,” he said.
Meades too dropped and launched, scraping the not quite fully open bay door on the way out. “Clear,” he said.
Hayes’ door had been the last to open. It was still only halfway down when she dropped from her mount. As instructed she fired a blast of cannon at the bay door as she accelerated towards it. The door broke into fragments and her dropship half flew, half scraped its way through. “I’m clear, multiple debris strikes, will advise,” she said.
The junior weapons officer manning the cannon had little hope against the three missiles streaking towards him. Even with aiming assists, the speed of the missiles meant the window during which he would be able to fire would be less than a second. If he hadn’t been so scared and focused on his task he may have reflected on his small part in history. It would have something of the flavour of the Alamo, or Rorke’s Drift, or maybe Custer’s Last Stand. Perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t have time to give it any thought.
History buffs and lovers of useless titbits of information would, in future years, revel in the fact that against all odds, and with a greater reliance on luck than skill, he did manage to successfully shoot down two of the approaching EMP missiles, a fact that, while interesting and extraordinary, meant little to him or his crewmates at the time. They were forced by immediate circumstances to look at the incident from another perspective; that one EMP got past him and detonated less than three hundred metres above Ephialtes’ starboard bow.
C H A P T E R 2 8
Blast Radius
Lund was in darkness. There were no windows in her office. She had been aboard Ephialtes and Otus before when there had been power-outs. The lights would dim and flicker, and the auxiliary power would kick in, powering only essential lights and thereby changing the ambience of the ship. Lund quite liked the mood of the emergency lighting; it made the familiar seem new and intriguing.
This was nothing like that. It was total blackness and near total silence. Distantly she could hear voices, beyond that nothing. She was floating.
She had briefly frozen with fear. She didn’t let the fear take control. She let it flow through her and allowed herself a moment of panic. Then she pushed it to one side and thought about what she needed to do next.
She craved light. She had never liked the darkness but until this moment she had never really feared it. Now she did, for she knew what it represented. She was determined to fight against it. Feeling her way, she pulled herself to her office door. Touching the frame she knew she had achieved something; she had taken her first step towards the bridge.
Steiner had accelerated away from Ephialtes at maximum speed. It was a drill he had practiced over and over; the emergency launch. He guessed Meades would have done the same, too. He tried to check in with Hayes.
“Hayes, how’s that damage?”
-
“Hayes, report on your damage, over?”
-
“I think she’s off-coms,” said Meades.
“Do you have a visual?” said Steiner.
“Negative,” said Meades. “Her transponder has stopped. I wouldn’t even know where to look.”
“Okay,” said Steiner. “What’s your sitrep?”
“I have three bogies, inbound.”
“Roger that,” said Steiner, “I have them on my screen. Those three chasing are ours.”
“I know that,” said Meades, “I’m taking evasive action and deploying countermeasures anyways.”
“Roger,” said Steiner. He had taken a different course to Meades and was now hundreds of kilometres away. Meades had turned starboard to follow Ephialtes’ course. He was now in range of the decoy missiles, which were rapidly closing on him.
“Change your vector,” said Steiner. “Those things must be nearly out of juice. You can out run them.”
“Can’t do it,” said Meades. “The speed I’d lose in the turn would be enough for them to catch me. Countermeasures and Hail Marys only.”
“How long to impact?” said Steiner.
“Twenty seconds,” said Meades. “I’m releasing chaff and flares right now, preparing anti-missile m
issiles.”
“Do that,” said Steiner. “I’m coming in.”
“Is that wise?” said Meades.
“No,” said Steiner as he put his dropship into a tight turn. He prepped his anti-missile missiles and sped towards Meades.
“Missiles away,” said Meades.
“Roger,” said Steiner, “I’m coming straight at you, make sure your transponder isn’t damaged. I’m going to fire missiles, too. Mine won’t have to turn like yours and I have a better shot.”
“Roger that, transponder is on,” said Meades. “Don’t miss.”
Steiner could see Meades’ position on his HUD. As he hurtled towards it he could just pick it out visually through his cockpit window. Meades was racing towards him with three missiles gaining pace behind. Behind those Steiner could just make out three more missiles, trying and failing to catch the three ahead of them. He could see from his HUD that these were friendly. His transponder would alert them that he was friendly too, and they should pose no threat to him. At that moment they posed no threat to the enemy missiles either.
The closing speed of the two dropships was very high. When Steiner pressed the missile release button he felt maybe he was too far out. By the time his missiles were away he worried he had left it too late. “Missiles away,” he said, and as he saw Meades’ dropship grow large in its approach he broke right.
Immediately he felt the impact of the explosions, and alarms sounded in his cockpit. Before his HUD flickered and died he saw that the enemy missiles had gone. The three useless friendly missiles continued on their harmless way.
“Are you there, Meades?”
-
“Meades, do you copy?”
“I copy,” said Meades, weakly. “Nice try, but I don’t think we made it this time.”
“Meades, what is your situation, over?”
Meades’ unbloodied eye roved around his cockpit. The only console that was working was lit up like Christmas with warning lights. He could see he was venting gas out into space. With all the effort he could muster he lifted an arm and pushed the main control stick. There was no response. Briefly, he lost consciousness but quickly came round and focused all his energies on replying to Steiner.
Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1) Page 41