“Multiple Gok contacts just outside the asteroid belt, sir,” Winterton said. “Teth’s vessel has made an appearance as well.”
“How many Gok ships?”
“Twelve, but they’re spread thin, with several light minutes between most of them.”
“The Ixa and the Gok…” Fesky muttered. “Two species that have never had any trouble getting along properly.”
Husher glanced at her. “Neither have you and I, Fesky. Mostly, anyway. We’ve always had each other’s backs. You haven’t let Snyder get to you enough to forget that, have you?”
The Winger clacked her beak, then lowered her voice so only Husher could hear. “Well, to be fair to Snyder, you’re still pretty annoying sometimes, human.”
Husher chuckled, then toggled his Oculenses till they showed him a tactical display. After a few seconds’ scrutiny, he saw the obvious angle of attack. It was a bit too obvious, which probably meant it was the one Teth wanted him to take, but Husher was content to play the Ixan’s game long enough to feel him out.
For a moment, he wished there’d been enough time to outfit a squadron of Pythons with the ability to enter subspace, but that would have involved a lengthy delay, and probably returning to an IU system. It occurred to him that passing on that game-changing technological innovation to the Fleet would depend on whether he achieved victory, here.
No pressure.
“Kaboh,” Husher said.
Slowly, the Kaithian turned to face him. “Captain?”
“Am I going to have any trouble getting you to follow my orders during this engagement?”
“As long we’re clear that I am merely following orders, and that your actions have almost certainly already destroyed your career—then no, Captain. You won’t.”
That’ll have to do, I suppose. “In that case, set a course straight at Teth’s destroyer and the two Gok cruisers flanking it. Bring engines to seventy percent power.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tactical, I want port and starboard Hydra broadsides at the ready. Depending on how the other Gok ships react, we may need them.”
“Aye, Captain. Commander Ayam just reported that all Python pilots are ready and standing by to scramble.”
“Very good. Coms, make a shipwide broadcast advising all civilians to secure themselves and family members inside the safety harnesses provided to each residence.” In Husher’s experience, people normally kept the restraints affixed to a wall in a closet somewhere, since they didn’t like the visual reminder that the Vesta was a warship and might actually find herself in battle someday. I just hope no one threw them out. If anyone had, they were likely in for a rough ride.
The necessary orders given for now, Husher sat in the command seat, back straight, and watched on the display as his supercarrier neared the opposing ships.
He felt he was doing the right thing, deep down in his gut. And in his experience, whenever you felt that way, you usually were.
Chapter 50
What It Means to Tangle
“The Ixan destroyer has loosed a fifty-missile barrage and has begun to withdraw into the asteroid field, sir,” Winterton said. “She’s yet to come about, though. This doesn’t look like a full-fledged retreat to me.”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Husher said. “Teth’s trying to bait us. But we should focus on the immediate problem first. Tactical, let’s show those Gok cruisers what it means to tangle with a capital starship that’s actually able to fire on them. Loose four Hydras each in a formation that blankets the area around those targets with potential firing solutions—say, twenty kilometers along both the X and Z axes. Make sure the missiles are programmed not to target enemy missile fire. Our point defense turrets should take care of most of those, though I’d like forward laser projectors set to point defense mode, to be safe.”
“Aye, captain.”
Winterton turned from the main display toward Husher. “Sir, the cruisers just added missile salvos of their own to the destroyer’s. Twenty-five missiles apiece have joined the incoming barrage.”
“Coms, relay orders to Commander Ayam that he’s to scramble Pythons at once. Tell him to prioritize the Gok missiles as targets, and that I’ll have further orders for him once he’s finished with that.”
The CIC officers with tasks to complete bent to their work, and Husher watched on the tactical display as his plan unfolded.
Over the next ten minutes, he saw something on the display that startled him: things were going exactly the way he wanted. Both traditional and laser point defense systems worked together to start mowing down the incoming robots the moment they were in range, and Pythons in tight formations swooped in to pick off the more conventional Gok missiles on the large barrage’s flanks. Apparently, none of those had been programmed to prioritize fighters as targets should they appear, given that they just sailed dumbly toward the Vesta’s hull until they were obliterated.
“Hydras ready to fire on your command, Captain,” Tremaine said.
Husher nodded. “Fire Hydras.”
“All Gok missiles have been neutralized,” Winterton put in. “The Pythons are starting work on the ordnance from the destroyer now. The chances of any robots getting through to the Vesta are extremely low.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Husher said, though he still felt bewildered. One of the only constants of space combat—and of warfare in general—was that plans never retained their original form after coming into contact with reality. A warship captain who was going to survive was one who needed to have Plans B, C, and D ready to go, and a captain who planned to survive for very long needed even more than that. Staying ready to turn on a dime was part of the job.
The Gok cruisers seemed to spot the missiles targeting them, since they attempted to maneuver out of the way, but they weren’t ready for the Hydras splitting into several smaller missiles. The Gok had never seen weapons like these, since they hadn’t been around during the Gok Wars, and the species’ military intelligence was even more useless than the IGF’s intelligence.
When the four Hydras split into thirty-two smaller missiles, the enemy cruisers scrambled to shoot them all down, using their own rockets in conjunction with point defense systems.
But it was far too late. The smaller missiles still packed quite a punch, and even two would likely be enough to take down the enemy ships.
Far more than two made it through. Of the first volley, eleven missiles bypassed the target’s defenses, and of the second, thirteen.
Both missile cruisers came apart in violent eruptions, the flames of which were swallowed almost instantly by the airless void of space.
The Vesta’s CIC erupted into cheering and fists pumping in the air. Husher’s heart rose at that, and for the first time, he realized just how long it had been since he’d heard that sound inside a Fleet warship.
“Be mindful of shrapnel from those cruisers,” Husher said to Winterton, and when he spoke, the cheering died down. He didn’t like to dampen the celebrating, but they were the only vessel in a battlespace beset by an unknown number of enemies, after all.
“Aye, sir,” Winterton said, though he’d been among the first to resume scrutinizing his console’s readout.
“What’s the destroyer’s posture?” From the tactical display, Husher could see that Teth was still retreating, but the data overview there only told him so much.
“Steadily accelerating in reverse, though she hasn’t yet come about to face the inner system.”
Husher nodded. Still not committing to a full retreat. Again, he wasn’t surprised. The asteroid belt was the perfect place to lay a trap for the Vesta. “Conduct constant active scans of the asteroid field as we enter it, Winterton. I want to know the instant something pokes a head out from its hiding place. And Coms, order Ayam to have his birds perform recon flybys behind asteroids big enough to conceal a warship within the range we’ve seen from the enemy.”
“Yes, sir,” Winterton and Fry said in rough unison.
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“The other Gok ships should be similarly unprepared to deal with our Hydras, so the broadsides we’ve readied should account for any that decide to show up. If we see another of the warships we faced in Saffron, though, we might have to give it some extra attention.”
“Sir,” Winterton said, “the Ixan destroyer has ceased its reverse thrusting and is now moving toward us under what must be full engine power, or something close to it.”
“Is she within range of our primary?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fire primary at that destroyer, Tactical.”
“Aye, sir.”
“The destroyer is launching another missile salvo,” Winterton said, his hands flying across his console. Moments later, he said, “Sir, the primary laser only made contact for a few seconds. The destroyer just thrusted laterally to maneuver out of the way, the moment it finished launching its barrage.”
“Cease firing the primary, Tactical. Winterton, how many missiles?”
“Eighty, sir.”
Husher swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to give another order, but before he could, the sensor operator spoke up again.
“We’re experiencing superheating along the nose of the Vesta. The destroyer’s hitting us with its particle beam. We’re already seeing major hull warping!”
Winterton seemed about to speak again, but massive explosions cut him off, accompanied by violent rocking that threw Husher against his seat’s restraints again and again.
Chapter 51
Below the Ecliptic
“Answer with our primary!” Husher said. A quick study of the tactical display had told him just how well Teth had boxed him in: to move to port would be to maneuver toward the incoming wave of robots, and a giant asteroid limited movement to starboard.
“We don’t have enough power to fire the primary again,” Tremaine said through gritted teeth.
Husher furrowed his brow. “Why not?”
“The explosions were a main capacitor bank blowing, sir,” Winterton said. “It took our total capacity to around seventy percent, meaning firing the primary once took us below the necessary charge to do so again.”
Husher cursed. That also meant even a full charge wouldn’t let them fire their primary laser twice in succession. “Helm, reverse thrust along an angle that takes us below the ecliptic, now! Tremaine, hit the destroyer with fifteen Banshees and a spray of kinetic impactors along the horizontal axis. Send another spray just below their ship. I want them incentivized to break off.”
“Firing missiles and impactors,” Tremaine said.
“We’re out of the particle beam, Captain,” Winterton said with a sigh of relief. “We took immense damage to the nose of the Vesta. In addition to the capacitors, we lost visual sensors in the area as well as nine crewmembers who were servicing the main gun.”
Damn it. “Let’s turn our attention to the incoming missiles.” Glancing at the tactical display, Husher saw that the Air Group had already managed to cut them down by seventeen, but without the Vesta’s help in dealing with the barrage, most of the speeding robots were still in play. “Tremaine, I trust we have enough charge to put tertiary laser projectors in point defense mode?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Do it, then. Helm, increase reverse thrust by fifteen percent. Keep a close eye on those active scans, Winterton. Now would be the perfect time for Gok to start coming out of the woodwork, especially with the Pythons taken off recon.”
“Will do, sir. The Ixan ship is making no move to refocus its particle beam on the Vesta. It’s resumed backing away toward the inner system.”
Husher nodded. As reluctant as he was to do so, he had to admire the sophisticated game Teth was playing. The Ixan was walking a fine line between luring the Vesta down-system and taking every opportunity to try and neutralize her. If Teth overplayed his hand, he likely figured there was a chance the supercarrier could retreat, or at least maneuver back to a more secure position. But at the same time, if he didn’t take some chances, then he might never get a shot at victory.
Clearly, Teth considered vanquishing Husher a worthy goal, and Husher didn’t consider it immodest to agree, at least inwardly. Other than preventing the enemy from establishing a foothold, Husher’s main reason for attacking Concord was to spur the IGF to action. If he failed, he had every reason to believe the IU would continue equivocating and attempting to bargain. He’d watched them do it for too long to believe they’d do otherwise, unless they were forced to.
“Seventeen enemy missiles left in play, sir,” Winterton said. “We should be able to neutralize the remainder before any—” The sensor operator broke off as something seemed to catch his eye on the main display. Husher watched as color fled the man’s face.
“A ship identical in profile to the one we fought in Saffron has just appeared from behind the large asteroid on our starboard side, Captain,” he said.
It felt like an invisible fist made of ice had clenched Husher’s stomach. For a moment, he couldn’t speak as he watched the massive vessel belch hundreds of missiles that screamed across the battlespace.
Chapter 52
Peacetime Soldiers
Major Peter Gamble moved in formation along a port-side crew corridor with what he considered one of his weakest squads.
Gamble didn’t like to waste time with his strongest marines, even in a potential combat situation—they’d already ingested the right principles from their training, and they lived and breathed them. They didn’t need him there, holding their hands.
No, the marines Gamble spent time with…they did need a little help. Like most people in the service, these were peacetime soldiers who’d never seen combat outside the sims, which got war wrong more often than not. Of course, even many peacetime soldiers had the right instincts for war, or at least instincts that could easily become the right ones, with enough exposure to battle.
The squad Gamble was with now…it didn’t consist of that type of soldier, exactly.
Either way, with Captain Husher back in the command seat, Gamble wouldn’t be surprised if none of the robots even made it into the Vesta. The man certainly had enough experience, and he had skill oozing out his ears. Plus, Captain Husher seemed pretty reluctant to let any more of those little devils inside his ship to wreak havoc.
Gamble had seen fighting during both the Second Galactic War and the Gok Wars. At thirty-eight, he was old to still be pulling active duty, but he’d do it until his body broke down completely or they crammed a promotion so far down his throat that he had to take some desk job. He knew that would happen eventually, and he dreaded the day it did.
For all its faults, Gamble believed in the Interstellar Union, and he’d spend his dying breath protecting it. Maybe its citizens appreciated that, and maybe they spit on him for it. Probably it was a mix of the two. It made no difference. He’d die to protect them nonetheless.
A blast shook the corridor, then another, then another. The Vesta bucked beneath him, throwing Gamble headfirst into a bulkhead.
His combat helmet absorbed most of the impact, but his neck felt sore as he picked himself off the deck. Somehow, I think that’ll be the least of my worries.
“Everyone all right?” he called to the others.
A ragged chorus of “Yes, Major,” greeted his ears, and a quick glance around the corridor found nobody down for good.
Good enough for me.
“Major Gamble,” said Captain Husher’s voice through Gamble’s ear piece. “Come in.”
“I read you, Captain.”
“You’re about to have company. We’re getting hit with a surprise barrage of those attack robots, and there’s no way to avoid it. A few dozen at least are going to get through.”
A few dozen… When he spoke, Gamble tried to keep the shock from his voice. “Sir, should I have Yung, Mews, and Zimmerman released from the brig so they can join in the fight?”
“That’s a negative, Major. Under no circumstances are those three to be rel
eased. When I take disciplinary action, it means something, and I plan to keep it that way. Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it ended the moment the next battle started.”
“Yes, sir.” The captain had a point. Those marines would be itching for a fight, and when they realized they were missing out on one, only then would the punishment feel real.
“I want you to personally take a company of marines to Cybele and secure the city,” the captain said. “Deploy the rest of the battalion exactly as I had you distribute them before, patrolling the corridors and guarding vital systems.”
“I will, sir.”
“Husher out.”
Gamble immediately switched to a company-wide channel. “All marines in Hammerhead Company, double-time it to Cybele and meet me in front of the Epicenter.” He cut the transmission, then looked around at the squad he was leading, a few of whom were looking at him like they were going to be sick. “Get yourselves together, now,” he told them. “Let’s move.”
Under normal circumstances, it was universally understood that only the hatch into the fake desert should be used to enter or exit the large compartment that contained Cybele. But these were not normal circumstances, and Gamble and his squad used one of two port-side emergency hatches instead.
The moment they emerged, it became clear what a good decision that had been. A shriek pierced the air, audible even from this distance, and without prompting, the entire squad broke into a run.
So, some of their instincts are good after all. Gamble wasn’t surprised. Even during peacetime, making it through marine training was no joke. If you didn’t have what it took to be a soldier at least on some level, you simply didn’t make it into the battalions.
Gamble unclasped a pouch at his waste, reached inside, and grabbed three microdrones, which he tossed into the air. While the microdrones had a number of settings, their default was to stay just ahead, checking around corners and zooming up to get a glimpse of upper-story windows and rooftops. That was exactly the setting Gamble wanted, right now. His Oculenses overlaid all three drone feeds onto what he was already seeing, and he could turn the opacity up or down with a thought. He could even give them simple commands that way, or change their settings. With any luck, the drones would prevent his squad from getting blindsided by a pack of killer robots.
Ixan Legacy Box Set Page 21