“Hold your course,” Mandy ordered, calmly. “And hold the range open, once we enter firing range.”
She sucked in her breath as the seconds ticked down to zero. There were no clever tricks, no cunning ploys ... merely the clash of squadron against squadron. Her modified missiles might have made a difference, if she’d chosen to use them, but she knew that they were a secret that had to be kept. Admiral Singh might be training her point defence crews on missiles that flew faster and harder than anything known to exist, yet it was possible she wouldn't believe in them. There was nothing to gain by tipping her off before the missiles offered Mandy a chance to win a decisive victory.
Admiral Singh’s ships didn't change course, either to open the range or close it. Mandy felt sweat trickling down her back, wondering just what the older woman was thinking. Rani Singh was ruthless enough, she knew from Jasmine, to soak up losses if it gained her something in exchange, but it would cost her badly. The Commonwealth Navy would court martial Mandy for expending her crews callously; Wolfbane would probably have to assassinate their ruler.
And that raises another question, Mandy thought. Is it really Singh in command over there?
“Captain,” the tactical officer said. “We will be entering missile range in thirty seconds.”
“Fire at will, as soon as we enter range,” Mandy ordered. “And follow up with a spread of drones. We need to see how they react to us.”
***
“Admiral,” the tactical officer said. “The enemy ships have opened fire.”
Rani nodded, resisting the urge to snap at the officer. She could see it on the display, thousands of red icons detaching from the enemy ships and roaring towards her fleet. It was impossible to be sure, but it didn't look as though there were any unpleasant surprises waiting for her. The missiles might be numerous - no one had fired such a large salvo for hundreds of years - yet they looked conventional. Maybe the Commonwealth had been reluctant to risk developing new missile systems that might well be duds.
“Reposition the fleet, then deploy decoys,” she ordered. It wasn't pleasant, but she needed to preserve her battleships, even at the expense of her smaller ships. “The point defence is to open fire as soon as the missiles enter firing range.”
“Aye, Admiral,” the tactical officer said.
Rani forced herself to watch, silently evaluating both the enemy missiles and her own crew’s performance. The situation was far from perfect - there were a lot of missiles bearing down on her - but it did have its advantages. Her ships had plenty of time to chart out firing solutions and adjust their positions, throwing off whatever missile locks the enemy had managed to secure at extended range. Warheads were rarely very smart. If they lost their locks, it was quite possible they would go for a decoy, rather than an active warship.
The point defence opened fire on command, picking off hundreds of missiles as they closed in on their targets. She smiled, rather coldly, as her first impressions were confirmed. There wasn't anything special about the missiles, certainly nothing that could be used to get them through the defence grid. A handful would get through, she knew, through sheer weight of numbers, but they wouldn't be decisive. Her fleet would barely be scratched.
“Hamilton is gone,” the tactical officer said. “Sutherland has taken heavy damage and her CO is requesting permission to abandon ship.”
“Granted,” Rani said. In the bad old days, a commander who ordered his crew to abandon ship could expect a court martial, something that had ensured a great many unnecessary deaths. She knew better than to persecute an officer for something outside his control. It was something of a miracle that Sutherland had survived the four hits she’d taken. “Order SAR teams to pick up the lifepods.”
“The enemy fleet is opening the range,” the sensor officer reported. “They’ll be out of missile range in two minutes.”
“Let them go,” Rani ordered. There was no point in giving chase, not now. A stern chase was invariably a long one, even if one side didn’t have faster ships. “Do we have an accurate scan of the high orbitals?”
“Yes, Admiral,” the tactical officer said. “I have missile locks on the defence network.”
“Then prepare to fire,” Rani said. “Angle the firing patterns to sweep as many of the defenders out of the orbitals as possible.”
And be careful you don’t accidentally hit the planet, she added, silently. A missile striking Corinthian, at a reasonable percentage of the speed of light, would be utterly devastating. It would certainly ensure that she couldn't recover anything of value, along with slaughtering billions of people and prompting the Commonwealth to retaliate in kind. That would be the end of everything.
She scowled. Shortly before the war, Governor Brown had dispatched a couple of starships towards the Core Worlds. One had returned, bringing news of planets scorched clean of life; the other hadn’t returned at all. Rani knew herself to be ruthless in pursuit of power, but there was nothing to be gained by mass slaughter. Planets couldn’t become part of her empire if their populations were exterminated. The very thought was horrific, even to her.
“Two minutes to firing range,” the tactical officer reported. “All weapons are online.”
“Fire on my command,” Rani said.
***
“They’re out of range,” the tactical officer said. “Captain?”
Mandy scowled. She’d expected - hoped - that Admiral Singh would fire a barrage back at her, but the damned woman had held her fire. And she couldn't fault the bitch either, no matter how much she wanted to. Throwing thousands of missiles at Mandy’s squadron would simply be throwing good money after bad. It had to be frustrating to know she could inflict more damage on the enemy, if she was willing to take losses herself, but Admiral Singh had done the right thing.
“Hold our course,” she ordered. It felt like running away - and, in truth, that was exactly what she was doing, leaving Mindy and Jasmine and Colonel Stalker behind as she fled into the depths of interplanetary space. It might have been part of the plan, but she didn't feel comfortable with it. “Launch a final set of drones, then update both the Colonel and the picket ships.”
She leaned back in her command chair, cursing herself under her breath. Once, she wouldn't have cared for her annoying little sister; now, she wished she had more time to know the young woman her sister had become. But she couldn't reverse course, she couldn't go back to help the planet. She had to stick with the plan, even though she knew it would kill her to watch helplessly as her sister died.
“Continue as planned,” she ordered, feeling a little of her heart grow cold. “And keep updating the colonel until we’re out of range.”
***
It was very cold in the fortress’s CIC.
Admiral Amir Melaka watched, grimly, as the enemy fleet grew closer, readying its weapons for the final push. It wouldn't be long before they opened fire, tearing through the planet’s defences as if they were made of paper. Commodore Caesius had insisted that they would have been better off building more warships and, in the privacy of his own mind, he accepted that she had a point. But the planetary government had chosen to put self-defence ahead of mobile firepower and he hadn't had the nerve to contradict them.
In hindsight, he knew, that had been a deadly mistake. He was well-aware of his own limitations as a senior officer. He’d been promoted, at least in part, because he’d had no role in Admiral Singh’s government; indeed, he’d been too junior to do anything more than keep his head down and pray not to be noticed by his seniors. And yet, he was damned if he was just surrendering control of the high orbitals to the wretched tyrant. His family had worked too hard to fit into Corinthian to allow Admiral Singh to ruin it.
And besides, they’re on their way to safety, he thought. He knew he wasn't likely to survive, but it didn't matter. His family would go on. They’ll remember me with pride.
“The enemy fleet is locking weapons on the defence platforms,” his sensor officer reported, grimly. Like the rema
inder of his crew, she was a volunteer. All non-essential personnel had been shipped out-system, just to keep them out of enemy hands. “They’re getting ready to fire.”
“Order the platforms to start shooting as soon as the enemy open fire,” Amir ordered, trying to keep his voice calm. The platforms wouldn't last long, once the enemy started picking them off. He had few illusions, too, about the giant battlestations. They were meant to be backed up by battleships. “And then launch missiles at will.”
The display flickered. “Enemy ships are coming into range,” the sensor officer said. “They have locked on.”
***
“You may open fire when ready,” Rani said.
She smiled, coldly, as the fleet unleashed a hail of buckshot. It wasn't something she would have taken into combat against warships, but it was hellishly effective against automated platforms. The targets couldn't dodge; hell, they’d have problems realising they were under attack until it was far too late. It was a shame the buckshot was useless against heavily-armoured battlestations, but she had nuclear-tipped warheads for them.
“The platforms are opening fire,” the tactical officer reported. “And they’re launching pre-placed missiles.”
Rani frowned, darkly. That could be trouble ... her probes hadn’t detected the free-floating missiles. She made a mental note to have a few words with the sensor crews - the missiles were a nasty surprise - and then watched, grimly, as the missiles slipped into her point defence envelope. Three of her ships were hit, one badly, but the surprise couldn't be repeated. She knew what to expect now.
They must have transhipped their stockpiles to orbit and just left them there, she thought, coldly. Did they have some warning we were coming?
“Admiral, the battlestations are coming into range,” the tactical officer said. “They’re locking missiles on us.”
“Fire,” Rani ordered.
Moments later, the battleship shuddered as she unleashed the first huge salvo.
***
Amir cursed savagely as the seven battleships opened fire, hull-mounted missile pods adding their weight to the wall of missiles slashing towards him. It was worse than it seemed, too; his point defence platforms were programmed to prioritise missiles that might strike the planet itself. He couldn't fault the defence planners - even if a strike was purely accidental, it would be devastating - but it weakened his defences significantly. Every missile that was marked a potential genocide threat forced his automated platforms to target it exclusively.
Bitch is probably doing it deliberately, he thought, as the torrent of missiles roared down on his position. The battlestation couldn't alter position, certainly not fast enough to save itself; he winced, again, as his automated platforms continued to die. He wasn’t quite sure how Admiral Singh was targeting them, but it was working. We’re in deep shit ...
He glanced around the compartment, feeling bitter regret. His crews were fighting desperately, but there was no way they could take out all the incoming missiles before it was too late. Admiral Singh had simply swamped his defences. He’d scored a handful of hits on her ships, yet nowhere near enough to slow her down. And the exchange rate was very much in her favour.
The missiles struck home ...
***
“All, but one of the fortresses have been destroyed,” the tactical officer reported. “The final fortress is heavily damaged. It won’t last long.”
Rani nodded. She was surprised the surviving fortress hadn't tried to surrender, now it had been battered into uselessness. Its point defence had even stopped firing. But in the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that her ships were slowly settling into the high orbitals, plotting their firing solutions for attacking the planet itself. Unless, of course, the population saw sense and surrendered ...
“Admiral,” the sensor officer said. “I’m detecting ...”
He broke off. Rani glared at him. “What?”
“I’m detecting a force shield in the upper atmosphere,” the sensor officer said. “It’s holding solid, right above the capital city.”
Rani stared in disbelief. She’d expected improved point defences and missile warheads, not this. “A force shield on a planetary scale?”
“Yes, Admiral,” the sensor officer said. “The capital city is shielded from us.”
He swallowed. “If my calculations are correct,” he added, “taking it down would require enough firepower to devastate the planet.”
Rani felt her temper flare. How dare they?
Cold logic reasserted itself. Devastating the planet would not only deprive her of any loot, but start a civil war. “Is there any way to take the shield down without hurting the planet?”
“We’d have to destroy the generator,” the sensor officer said. He pointed at an image of the city. “It's somewhere within that rough location.”
She tapped her console. “General Haverford, report to my office,” she ordered. “You have an operation to plan.”
Chapter Sixteen
The problem facing the diplomats, however, was that Lakshmibai and its history simply didn't register, compared to the spacefaring power of Wolfbane. It was decided to send the starships away to prevent the Wolfbane ships ambushing Commonwealth ships (or vice versa). The prospect of being attacked by the planetary natives never crossed their minds.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Role of Randomness In War.
Danielle watched, fighting down the urge to cry, as the final battlestation exploded, showering pieces of debris into the gravity well. They looked too small to make it through the atmosphere and strike the surface, but she knew from endless briefings that it was a very real concern. Hullmetal was tough, very tough. A handful of chunks that survived passage through the atmosphere would do a great deal of damage.
She looked at Colonel Stalker, wondering how he could be so impassive. Didn't he realise that hundreds of good men and women had just died? More people had died in a matter of minutes than had died during the years Admiral Singh had controlled the planet! She knew the crews had been stripped down to the bare minimum, she knew the remaining personnel had all been volunteers, but it was no consolation. Decades of work and years of investment had just been casually brushed aside. A single damaged battleship and a handful of smaller ships was no fair exchange for the battlestations.
“They didn't repeat their demand for surrender,” she said, quietly.
“They’ve detected the force shield,” Stalker said. “They would have started bombarding their targets now, in preparation for a landing, if they hadn't.”
Danielle scowled. “So what do we do now?”
“We wait,” Stalker said. She hated him at that moment, hated how he could be so dispassionate when her world’s very survival was at stake. “The ball’s in her court now.”
***
“The force shield is genuine,” Mark said, in disbelief. “It isn't a trick?”
“A piece of debris struck the shield and was disintegrated,” Admiral Singh said, tartly. “It’s real.”
Mark studied the display, wondering why the thought of building a force shield on a continental scale had never occurred to him. But then, he’d never realised force shields were possible until he’d seen them deployed in combat. Why not scale one up to the point where it could shield a city and the surrounding landscape? If one had the technology and the power, one could make it happen.
“We need to take that city,” Admiral Singh said. “It has to be captured before the facilities can be destroyed.”
“That might be tricky,” Mark said. He’d brought two divisions from Thule - and a third division from Wolfbane - but he hadn't expected a long campaign. Corinthian was supposed to surrender, like most worlds, when the high orbitals were captured. But that damned force field changed everything. “We’d need to adjust the plans at breakneck speed.”
He scowled at the map, thinking hard. Luckily, they had done some planning to establish a forward base that would be independent of the local
spaceports, but it wasn't enough to handle every requirement. He’d need to scale up the plans considerably, which would cause no end of problems. And he’d have to do it under fire, if the intelligence reports were to be believed. Every man, woman and child on the planet below owned a firearm and knew how to use it.
“I can put a forward deployment team here, Admiral,” he said, tapping a patch of farmland seventy kilometres from the city. “And then start funnelling in more supplies, under cover from the orbiting starships. It would still take upwards of a week before we were ready to start extending our control, let alone advancing on the city. I’d really be happier landing further away from the shield.”
“It can't be extended,” Admiral Singh said.
Mark glanced at her. “How can you be sure?”
“The field has a radius of fifty kilometres,” Admiral Singh pointed out. “That forces us to land at least fifty kilometres from the city, depriving us of our chance at a quick victory. If they could extend the shield still further, they would have done it. It would make life difficult for us.”
They Shall Not Pass (The Empire's Corps Book 12) Page 16