“Forward shields are fluctuating,” Xander said. “We have damage to the shield generators.”
“Prize 1 is pulling ahead,” Chug said. On the Tri-V, the larger bulk of the Izlian heavy cruiser was moving in front of Pegasus. Camera views to the side carried a good image of the cylindrical beast as she moved into position. Her shields flashed brightly as something invisible hit them.
“Drones are clearing our firing solution,” Drone Controls said.
“Xander, fire on those ships, full spread.”
“Aye, aye,” the TacCom said. A moment later the distant bump, bump, bump of missiles being ejected from their tubes resounded through the hull. Ten missiles, five from each set of launchers, fired with compressed gas. As soon as they were clear of the ship, their engines ignited, and they turned and streaked away. “Good launch; birds away. Time on top—30 seconds.”
The Winged Hussars’ ship-killer missiles were a proprietary design. Each missile carried two tiny nuclear bombs they’d dubbed “Squash Bombs,” with a nominal yield of five kilotons. They were designed to split shortly before impact, delivering their two weapons one after the other to increase the probability of dropping an enemy’s shield and getting a direct hull-to-bomb impact. A nuclear weapon wasn’t as destructive in space, nor from as far away. However, the lack of atmosphere greatly increased the effectiveness of hard radiation. A direct on-hull hit could be devastating to small- and medium-sized warships, and instantly fatal to unarmored foes.
“And…” Xander said, “impact!” On the screen there were a series of white pings, indicators of nuclear detonations. She scowled at the results. The targets all performed last-minute course changes. “Splash two, repeat, two bogies.”
“Any idea what they’re using on us?” Alexis asked as Prize 1’s shields flashed again and again.
“Not yet,” Xander replied. “Their weapons’ range was at least four times more than we expected.”
“No shit,” Afeeko grumbled. He was managing two DC parties now and was working to stabilize the shields. “Teams have radiological casualties on Deck Four.”
“Dispatching medical to Deck Four,” Glick said.
“Prize 1, status update?” Alexis called.
“Those things hit a ton,” Lieutenant Ewald said. “My sensor operator says he’s getting pretty good resolution. We’ve had to patch our own computers, but it looks like the sensor arrays have been modified. We’re sending you the data.” Xander gave the thumbs-up and information flowed into Pegasus’ computers.
“Can you give us some fire support?” Alexis asked. “The missiles were a dud.”
“Roger that,” he said, “firing particle cannon.”
The big war wagon fired its forward particle accelerator cannons at the enemy ships. Two of the weapons scored hits, and both resulted in kills. They were far more effective than Pegasus’ weapons had been on their first visit.
“Tubes reloaded,” Xander informed.
“Standby,” Flipper said. On the Tri-V, the five surviving bogies came to a ridiculously crazy stop, then began accelerating back the way they’d come. Alexis’ brows furrowed before she remembered the rules in 2nd Level Hyperspace. The ships must have simply cut power, spun around, and accelerated again. She made a mental note to have some missiles modified to take those sorts of maneuvers into account.
“Cease fire,” she ordered, “kill thrust.” Both warships cut their engines and stopped the same way the enemy had a minute earlier. On the display, the enemy ships continued to race away.
“I have some better images,” Flipper said. “These are composites from the data sent by Prize 1 and what I have.” A corner of the Tri-V displayed a ship that looked more like a sea creature than a spaceship.
“It looks like a manta ray,” Xander said. Alexis saw she was right. Long, slightly-swept wings with a thicker central superstructure. Weapons were slung under each wing, giving the ship a slightly fighter-like appearance. It also appeared to have an aft boom, which looked like a tail.
“That’s a most unusual design,” Chug said.
“Hold position until the bogies are beyond sensor range,” Alexis ordered, “then come about and return to salvage operation.”
“It’s unusual, but not unique,” Flipper said. He put another image next to the first. It was the shuttle they’d stolen/salvaged during the first trip into that realm. While not identical, the pedigree was evident.
“Look at this,” Xander said. One of the alien ships was hit by a beam from the Izlian heavy cruiser. The beam bounced off the manta ray ship like a mirror reflecting a laser. Where the beam hit the shield, there was a flashing glow that spread until the beam punched through. Then the alien ship exploded.
“Sato will be most interested in that,” Alexis said. Shields absorbed enemy fire, they didn’t deflect it.
“We seem to have made a powerful enemy,” Paka said.
* * *
An hour later Pegasus was back near the salvage operations. Prize 1 had taken no damage. In addition to her sensors being modified, it appeared her shields were as well. Sato had visited the hull breach, examined the sensor data, and had a conclusion as to the weapons.
“Gamma-ray lasers,” he pronounced.
“Those take an insane amount of power,” Alexis pointed out.
“Yes,” he agreed, “and they’re almost as dangerous to the ship firing them as the one being shot at. Shielding them is almost impossible. I don’t see any reference to them being used since the Great Galactic War. Apparently a few relics remain, though they’re mostly nuclear-pumped lasers enclosed in missiles, and not many of those.”
“Who would use such insane weapons?” Paka asked.
“Someone with nothing to lose?” Xander surmised. Alexis thought that had some validity. If there was a race trapped here, how far would they go in a fight? Every ship so far had been stripped of all biological matter. Were they being attacked by cannibals?
“
“Thanks for that at least,” Alexis said.
“Sato, can we defend against them better?”
“I’ve reviewed how the Izlian heavy cruiser’s shields were modified and have passed along some tweaks to Mr. Opal. It won’t be perfect without physical modifications, and with Kleena and the two Jeha over helping get EG1 ready, tweaks are the best I can offer. Still, it’ll cut down on the penetration factor at least.” Xander flashed a thumbs-up.
“Better than nothing. Thanks, Sato.”
The Izlian heavy cruiser’s systems were more online by the minute. The prize crew had another fusion plant running and were working on its main weapons, a pair of titanic spinal-mounted magnetic accelerator cannons. These were the big brothers of the smaller MACs Human CASPers often employed. They didn’t fire 10mm projectiles, though; they launched one-meter-wide, five-meter-long, super-dense impactors. Sato believed they’d also be quite effective at orbital bombardment.
“Lieutenant Ewald,” she said over the radio.
“Commander?”
“That maneuver of pulling an untested ship in front of my ship in the middle of the fight was one of the most reckless things I’ve ever seen.” On the Tri-V, the young officer stiffened slightly. “I’m placing a letter of commendation in your file.” Now he smiled, but she pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ever fucking do it again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t look the least bit chastised.
“In addition, calling that ship Prize 1 isn’t suitable after it’s already seen combat. Considering the way it stood in the breach and sucked up enemy fire, I’m commissioning her as EMS Stonewall Jackson and granting you a field commission to lieutenant commander.” There was applause from the CIC command staff, and the young lieutenant commander blushed slightly. Ah, youth, Alexis thought with a wry smile.
“I don’t know what to say, ma’am, except thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. Now, I see Pri
ze 2 has her shields up, though weapons may have to wait until we return.” Glick, the SitCon, nodded. “Good, so we don’t have to spend as much time guarding them. Long, how about it?”
“We’ve installed portable fusion plants in the three we’re not trying to get power systems online on. They can all maneuver on thrusters now, though the crews have to remain in spacesuits, because there’s no life support, either.”
“What about the one you’re concentrating on? EG1?”
“It has the same fusion cores we did before the refit of Pegasus last month. They’re difficult to work on for the same reasons.”
“How long, Mr. Long?”
“We’re going to try a cold start in 30 minutes. But there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“F11,” the Jeha engineer said. “We’re running low.”
Alexis cursed. “Are we going to have to bring a tanker with us every time we come here?”
“It appears to be as rare as biological matter,” Sato chimed in from his science bay. “On that note, we took some samples. The ships are utterly sterile. We didn’t find any sort of bacterial residue, even in sealed areas.”
“Could it be because they’ve been there for so long?” Paka asked.
“Unlikely,” Sato said. “Ships left sealed in space are like time capsules. You might get some decay, but once the oxygen is gone, whatever was there is there to stay. No, someone or something cleaned them better than any process we can imagine.”
“If containment fails,” Long explained, “we won’t have enough F11 for another try.”
“Right, all or nothing,” Alexis said. “Okay, we have a little time. Crew rotation for rest, 30 minutes. Combat-ready ships to remain on standby.” She looked at Flipper. “Watch the sensors closely. Those manta ray ships are fast, and I don’t want them sneaking up on us.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the Selroth sensor tech replied.
“Okay, back to work.”
Of course, “everyone who can take a break” didn’t include Alexis Cromwell. She popped her third stimulant, sucked coffee from a bulb, and stayed at her station. As the clock ran down, she waited eagerly for news.
“EG1 is reporting successful reactor start,” Hoot said.
“Yes,” Alexis hissed. “Begin docking operations with all ships.”
“Bogies,” Flipper said. On the Tri-V, a splotch of green marked the extreme range. However, they stayed at range and were joined by more splotches in another quadrant.
“They’ve brought friends,” Paka said.
“Long,” Alexis said. “Expedite that docking.”
“Way ahead of you, Commander. I’ve had my people linking all the ships to the two unusual designs, and this one to the grouping. We’ll be ready in ten minutes.” Ten minutes, she thought, that’s a long time.
“
“We’d assumed as much,” Alexis replied.
“
“Let’s be preemptive then,” she said, then spoke aloud. “Drone Control, configure all remaining drones for ship assault and launch ASAP.”
“Launch in 2 minutes,” Ghost responded in her public persona.
“Docking with Stonewall Jackson and Prize 2 underway,” Afeeko said. With chief engineer Long on EG1, the DCC had taken over for him.
“This is the bad time,” Paka said, and Alexis nodded. With the two larger Izlian ships mated to Pegasus, she lost most of her weaponry and almost all her trademark maneuverability. The shields between the ships would likewise suffer without hours of work to synchronize the field frequencies and power levels. Ships that jumped into enemy territory mated as such deployed as quickly as possible for just that reason. Taking the time to balance shields was something you didn’t do.
Damage control crews rushed to string connection cables between the three ships. Normally ships were set to do that, but they needed to be compatible. The Izlian ships weren’t the same design as the Dusman-built Pegasus, and having hard connections to their hyperspace generators was essential. Had they been smaller ships, Pegasus’ field would have been sufficient to encompass them.
“Drones in the black,” Drone Control announced. A total of 25 blue dots marked every combat-capable drone left at their disposal. Alexis had considered sending some to search for the missing shuttle one last time, then regretfully rejected it. She’d be risking her crew, and all the ships they were salvaging, for the dozen crewmembers on the shuttle. Based on the swarming enemy manta ray ships at extreme range, she was forced to assume the crew was already dead.
The minutes ticked by as their drones raced toward the enemy. When they were halfway out, the enemy advanced in force. “Looks like they don’t want to wait,” Xander said.
“Set Condition One,” Paka ordered. “Shields up. Stonewall Jackson, Prize 2 docking status.”
“They’re secure,” Afeeko said over the intercom. He was aft, assisting. “We can maneuver, carefully. Forward weapons are available. Need another minute to get the hyperspace connections in place.”
“Hurry,” she admonished. “Trouble is on the way. Long, status over there?”
“We’re ready,” he said, “just waiting on you. Computer module you sent is installed and reads status ready.”
“Very well, depart.”
“Commander,” he protested, “we can’t leave you here.”
“You can, and you will. You barely have shields and you’re a massive target. Get home; that’s an order.” A few seconds ticked by. “Long, do you understand? That’s an order.”
“Departing now,” he said. “Best of luck, Commander.”
“And you,” she said. On the Tri-V, they watched as the ancient Egleesius-class battlecruiser EG1 projected a discontinuity in the already strange fabric of 2nd Level Hyperspace. The ship’s hyperspace shunts then manipulated the discontinuity, which seemed to almost suck the conglomeration of ships in like spaghetti. In less than a second, they were gone.
“That looked horrible,” Xander said.
“One wonders if that’s how we look doing the same?” Flipper asked.
“I hope we never come back to find out,” Paka said, the sound of disgust obvious in her voice.
“Drones have engaged,” Xander said. On the screen, the blue dots of the drones were merging with the green dots of the alien ships. Where they’d been attacked by one group of nine aliens before, this time there were five groups. Flipper confirmed there were again nine ships in each group. When it came to tactics with the drones, Alexis always left it up to Ghost to fight her craft. She’d realized early on that the AI was far, far better at this than she’d ever be.
After the first engagement against the alien manta ray ships, Ghost had learned a lot from its losses. This time, clearly, it had a plan. Alexis was a little concerned to see it break her forces in two to engage the closest pair of groups. When two enemy ships disappeared almost immediately, Ghost was once again vindicated. It didn’t make the same mistake twice.
One of the unengaged groups of enemy ships turned to assist the other two. The remainder continued straight for Pegasus.
“We won’t be able to recover your drones,” Alexis said.
“
“Enemy will be in weapons range in 2 minutes,” Xander said. On the screen, Ghost’s drones were kicking the shit out of the enemy ships and were being killed themselves just as quickly. Alexis realized what Ghost was doing; using the drones to ram the manta ray ships. Expensive, but brutally efficient.
“Afeeko, call out when your people are aboard and clear,” Glick said, carefully watching the situation so nothing got away from him.
“Missiles?” Xander asked.
“Save them,” Alexis said and shook her head. A second later Afeeko called in.
<
br /> “We’re secure, go!”
“Chug, do it!” The mollusk manipulated the controls with a pseudopod and his pinplants, and Pegasus disappeared from 2nd Level Hyperspace to instantly appear in regular space. “Checking location,” he said. The big Tri-V reset to show a red giant star dominating the view. “Confirmed, we’re in New Warsaw, in orbit near Prime Base.”
“Have the other ships arrived?” she asked Hoot.
“Traffic Control is calling us. It’s hard to make sense out of the babble in-system because all the new Egleesius-class ships appeared a few minutes ago.”
Alexis sighed and unbuckled. She turned to Paka. “Supervise separation and getting the Izlian ships into the shipyards, then get some rest. I’m going to rest in my wardroom.”
“Yes, Commander,” Paka said. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Alexis said and pushed off hard toward her wardroom. She had just enough time to be surprised she didn’t stop in a few meters before she crashed into the wardroom door and knocked herself cold.
* * * * *
Chapter Seventeen
EMS Capricorn, Hyperspace, en route to the Torgero System
“How’s it going?” Captain Paolo Valenti asked as he looked over First Sergeant Thomas “Top” Mason’s shoulder. Formerly a member of The White Company, Valenti had brought the remainder of the shattered company into Asbaran Solutions after their massacre at the hands of the Besquith on Moorhouse.
“About like you’d expect,” Top said, gesturing toward the monitoring board. Leads from the board ran to 10 CASPers spread throughout the bay, all in simulation mode. They’d been running simulators since they left Earth, trying to train the newbies. They’d trained for the entire trip from Earth to New Warsaw, while they’d been in New Warsaw, and all the way through hyperspace to New Persia. “Most of the troops still look like what they were a couple of months ago—peasants from a backward-ass country. It’s a good thing we were able to pick up some veterans before we left Earth; they’re making a difference in the training.”
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