“That’s not a survivable ratio,” Jeffers said. “Our only hope is to get some distance and pick them off as they spread out to pursue.”
The chancellor frowned. “Patch me through to Cochrane. Maybe we should tell him to get out of the way and let us attack the Tacra Un ourselves?”
“I think that would be ill advised,” Solo said.
“She was kidding,” Jeffers said.
“Maybe not,” Roja said, letting loose with an assault level glare as the governor’s face appeared on the screen and she turned her attention to him.
Kitty Hawk: Station-keeping Above New Hope City: Luna:
“Captain Franklin, Ranger is reporting we’ve got activity on the enemy battle group,” the com officer said. They were holding position above the crater of Underhive and shuttling life support hardware to the surface. The Ranger was in position 1,000 klick above them and was working as a communications relay to the L-2 Shipyard. It was also paying more attention to Galileo than her own crew was.
“Show me,” she said, standing up and bouncing forward to the edge of the command riser. Station-keeping at forty klick meant the lunar gravity inside the ship was substantial enough to keep everything in place.
When the screen opened, the group of enemy ships that had been stationary for a week was in motion. “Navigation, plot that,” she barked. “Are they heading our way?”
“Too early to tell, but it doesn’t look like it,” the navigator said as lines appeared on the plot. “Either they’re heading for a hot button-hook that might bring them once around and then back here, or they’re looking at L-2.”
“Com, put me through to Quintana,” she said, glancing at the chrono. It was late thirdshift.
After almost a minute, the admiral’s face appeared on the comscreen on one side of her riser. “Problem?” he said, clearing his throat and sounding like the effort to create another word would have been beyond his voice.
“Sorry sir, but it looks like the fleet is moving in your direction,” she said. “They’re moving too fast for an easy lunar insertion, but we won’t know for sure for a few minutes yet.”
He nodded. “Do you think they’re trying to pull you off your post?”
“Gut level? No,” the captain said. “They’ve got a commit threshold in about forty minutes and we’ll know for sure.”
“How many ships?” he growled.
“Seventy-five. They’re leaving Galileo pretty naked,” she said.
“They know we won’t attack,” he said. “Too much collateral damage.”
“And it leans me on the idea that they’re coming for you,” Franklin said. “Attacking L-2 would guarantee we’d be too busy covering home to consider busting their eggs.”
The admiral laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes for almost a minute before he nodded. “What’s their ETA for here if they hold trajectory?”
“Just under three hours,” she said.
He glanced off screen and frowned. “0530 hours. Why can’t they start a war at a decent time of day?”
“Because Tomlinson doesn’t want you to have a sex life either,” a woman said from somewhere out of the optic’s field of view. Whoever she was, she flashed across the screen behind him as she rolled out of bed.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Hold your ground until we know they’re over the commit line, and then if they’re still pushing for us, bring everything you’ve got after them.”
“From a flat footed start we’ll be an hour behind them,” she said.
“Understood. We’ll hold,” he said. “We’ve got no choice.”
Tahrat Shan-che: Gateway Colony: L-4 Prime:
Saf and Chei were stuck. They were aboard the Shan Takhu ship, but they might as well have been in a parallel universe. They’d made several expeditions inside. If they didn’t make a breakthrough this time, it might never happen. Odysseus was on top of them and they were no closer to understanding how it worked than they were the first time they’d been inside.
They’d spent several days just trying to map out the interior and see if there was any logic to it. So far, they thought they might have found the engines, but even that was debatable.
The Tahrat Shan-che didn’t appear to have a control deck. They’d looked in every place where humans would have put one. The nose, the top, even above the things they assumed to be engines. There was something that might have been an engineering room, but nothing in it made sense.
The lights were on, but neither of them could find their way home.
Chei had reached the end of his optimism, and was descending into desperation, as he leaned against a control kiosk. It looked like the pedestals in the amphitheater except that when he walked up and touched it, the screen refused to activate. He wanted to beat it with his fists, but he was certain it was tougher than his feeble human flesh.
Saf looked almost as dejected as he felt, and she sat crumpled against another obelisk. “What are we missing?” she muttered. “There has to be something we just aren’t seeing.”
He nodded, but didn’t look at her. “It feels like we’re inside a comatose creature,” he said. “Like it’s still alive, but just brain dead.”
“I wonder if that’s possible?” she asked. “Maybe they wiped the brain.”
“Or maybe it won’t upload until we’ve finished some other frakking impossible quest somewhere else in the Tacra Un,” he said, snarling at her. His frustration had reached its end, and he was clinging to the frayed edges of his temper. “I’ve been fighting this fragging beast for most of the last year. It reached out and swatted us out of the sky and then marooned us here. It wants to suck the life out of us.”
She looked at him and smiled sadly. “I think I get that,” she said, getting up and walking over beside him. She leaned forward and put her hand on the obelisk beside his.
It lit up.
“What the hell did you do?” he asked, jumping back like it had electrocuted him.
“I thought you needed some comforting. Or maybe something to distract you,” she grinned. “Sometimes it helps to step outside of things and get a fresh perspective.”
“But you turned it on?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was hoping to do that to you. I can’t say as I usually have that effect on hardware.”
“Chei ahn boss,” Ian said, his voice coming from the pedestal. “Odysseus Un-oola ru. Ashat-nuko eka. Aht.”
“Frak,” he said “The ghost fleet is here already.”
“Yah, I followed what he said,” she said. “And he wants the quantum field dealt with fast.”
“Can you patch him through to us down here?” he asked.
There was a long pause and then Ian came back, his tone excited. “Jeph ahn ashat-nuko naet.”
“The field is off?” he asked, staring at the pedestal in front of him like it had started speaking in tongues.
“Yes!”
“Of course it is!” Chei said, beating his forehead with his open palm and laughing to the point of tears. “I am so stupid.”
Saf stepped back and stared at him like he might be losing his mind.
“How can you launch a space ship, if you can’t open the door?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Armstrong: Station-keeping Above L-4 Prime:
“What’s happening to the gas blanket?” Jeffers said. The main viewscreen showed the horizon of L-4 Prime as they tracked the progress of the battle groups angling for position. An odd shockwave was visible above the upper line of the pseudo atmosphere. It was expanding away from the surface and the gas below it was turning bright. Like it was condensing into clouds of vapor.
“The pressure is dropping below the gradient ceiling,” one of her sensor specialists said.
“It’s also expanding,” she pointed out. “It looks like the gas is escaping.”
“Is the quantum field off?” Roja said, over the com. She was down in her quarters gathering her belongings since Nakamiru w
as not going to let her stay on board. She was listening in on the ConDeck while she packed.
“It looks like it. Stand by and I’ll see if we can confirm it,” Jeffers said. “Helm, give me a short pulse on the aft thrusters, let’s see if we can gain altitude.” They had remained pinned against the inner edge of the quicksand since they’d arrived at L-4 Prime. The only thing they’d made was to rotate to face upward toward the ghost fleet.
“We’re moving!” he said. “Five meters a second.”
The admiral floated onto the deck behind her. “I felt us nudge forward. Are we moving?”
“Yes sir. They did it,” she said.
“Message from the governor,” her com officer said. “He says we’re free to give them hell.”
“We’ve still got twenty minutes until Odysseus comes for us,” Jeffers said. “Should I pass the word to the multicruisers to get altitude?”
“If we start maneuvering, they’ll know we plan to fight,” the chancellor said.
“Or we’re running,” the admiral said. “In either case tell them to get some distance now.”
“What about us?” Jeffers asked.
“As soon as the chancellor is aboard the Katana and they have cleared—”
“But—”
“We are still not arguing about this, Katryna,” the admiral said. “You will be safer in the colony.”
Kitty Hawk: Station-keeping Above New Hope City: Luna:
“The fleet is through the window and still accelerating,” the navigator said. “They’re over the commit threshold and going for L-2.”
“Seventy-two C and D class ships plus three repair tenders,” Franklin’s ExO said as he watched the sensor screen over the shoulder of the tech. “I’d say that means they’re looking for this to be a long engagement.”
“Send the word to L-2 that the big ugly is about to begin,” Franklin said. “Have our attack groups form up on us and let’s make feet.”
“The Carson and the Leon are still ten minutes out,” he said.
Have the Ranger hold back until they can group together. I don’t want our ships traveling in less than wings of three. Better to have them show up ten minutes late than get picked off and not show up at all.”
“All ships report ready,” her com officer said.
“Pass the word,” she said. “Maximum burn. Let’s go get us some bad guys.” She dropped down into her command seat and glancing at her ExO shrugged.
“We’ll be almost an hour behind them,” he said. “L-2 will be lucky to hold until we get there.”
“We’ll push over the line if we have to,” she grunted as the fist of acceleration kicked them back into their seats. “They’re going to be lucky to hold after we get there, too.”
Gateway Colony: L-4 Prime:
Edison Wentworth had his troops stationed a hundred meters back from the doors that were their last defense against an internal attack. They were to be reinforcements in the event that Seva’s and Cori’s squads took casualties.
It was quiet, and if fortune operated in their favor, it would stay that way. If their ships could keep the ghost fleet engaged, maybe they’d never make it down to the surface. Edison knew better than to hope for that though because there were too many ships for them to hold off.
“Chei got the quicksand off and it looks like it’s started the dance party upstairs,” Jeph said on the private com channel that fed to the security teams. “Kiro is docking with the Armstrong and should be on his way back in a few minutes. Chancellor Roja will be in this last run.”
“I assume Odysseus knows we’re not leaving,” Edison said.
“I don’t know, but when it sees the Katana returning to the surface, it’ll figure it out fast,” Jeph said.
“Ja, we’ll move back into the Waltz once that happens,” Seva said. “No point in hiding our intentions.”
“I doubt that Odysseus fell for it anyway,” Cori said.
“Probably not. It was too easy to get it to give ground,” Edison said. “I think it would have told us to leave them behind and it would have killed them. It nuked a million people just to make a point. Executing 200 here would be trivial.”
“If it didn’t intend to let us go, why didn’t it just lead with that?” Seva asked.
“It’s been maneuvering for tactical position for the last hour,” Jeph said. “Maybe it’s been probing for weakness.”
“That would be a valid assessment,” Dutch said.
“Its forces have broken up into several battle groups and they’ve been reducing altitude. They look like they’re closing to engage. The admiral says the troop carrier and its escorts just started pushing hard in our direction,” Jeph said.
“It would be good if they could stop it before it gets here,” Cori said.
“Nojo,” Seva agreed.
“They say they’re going to try to keep it off of us, but I think they’ll have their hands full,” Jeph said. “The way it’s shaping up, Odysseus looks like it’s simply planning to overwhelm everything. The multicruisers are facing a hundred ships each and the Armstrong is getting everything else that isn’t coming at us.”
“The Tacra Un’s sensors have allowed me to monitor the narrow beam inter-ship communications in the ghost fleet. They increased during this redeployment, but most of it was ship commanders seeking clarification on their orders,” Dutch said. “The orders themselves were delivered via encrypted broadstream and are undecipherable.”
“Odysseus isn’t bothering to explain what it’s doing to its own personnel?” Edison asked. “That’s got to be tough on crew morale.”
“Why should it?” Cori said. “Other than repairs, there is no need for it to have even brought crews along for the ride.”
“Initially, it was not providing information,” Dutch said. “There was a short period where several commanders threatened to disengage the autocommand system if they were not given answers”
“Autocommand system?” Jeph asked.
“I suspect this may be instances of the Odysseus awareness itself,” Dutch said. “Subsequent to this resistance against orders, it has begun to provide verbal explanations. It is however worth noting that the instructions are being confirmed by Paulson Lassiter.”
“That’s not possible,” Edison said. “He was at Underhive.”
“Agreed,” Dutch said. “I confirmed this was not him when it conducted several different conversations throughout the ghost fleet simultaneously.”
“They don’t know it’s not Lassiter himself?” Jeph asked.
“Correct,” Dutch said. “They are following an avatar of the Steward into battle.”
FleetCom Military Operations Center: Lunar L-2 Shipyard:
Admiral Quintana stood anchored on the command riser, staring at the tactical plot on the main screen. They had just finished reworking the layout of the riser and he had his entire command staff arrayed in a ring of stations around him. It made it easier for him to see every facet of the battle and still gave them instant access to their teams on the command deck below.
The tension in the air was a malevolent presence as his officers all watched the enemy battle group redeployed toward the lunar side of their defenses in silence. “Looks like they’re moving to attack early,” Quintana said. “I figured they’d wait, and all come at us at once.”
“I expect they’ll start tenderizing our defenses first,” Visser said. “If they’re smart, they’ll lean on one side rather than spread out and take attrition.”
Ducat nodded. “Makes sense. If they can clear some of our laser turrets out of the way, then when the rest of the fleet gets here they can cut us up easier.” The operations officer had decided that, after all their strategic planning sessions, the first officer was the most knowledgeable tactician they had at L-2. His attitude about her had improved despite his disapproval of the personal relationship she had with Quintana.
“We cannot allow them to cut a corridor through the defense net. Obviously we should mov
e our local multicruiser group to keep them facing where they’re focusing their attention,” Hamid Roudini said. The ExO was far less willing to accept Visser’s expertise, and every time he said anything about her planning, he made it sound like he finished his sentence with, you ignorant woman.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not worth the argument. We can always move them back later if we need to.”
“Send the orders to bring the Exeter around to the lunar side,” the admiral said glancing at Sage. “Don’t pull anyone else out of position for now.” The Defense Coordinator nodded.
“It’s moving,” she said. “Three minutes.”
“Is the Saber ready?” the admiral asked. They’d built turrets until they ran out of materials and then outfitted the Saber with racks to deploy them like mines.
“Yes sir,” Roudini said. “Loaded up and ready to fly.”
“Then get it pounding out another layer as soon as we can tell where they’re focusing,” he said.
“Here they come,” Sage said, taking a deep breath and letting it out as the first wave of ships opened fire on one turret in the outer ring. It flashed and vaporized under the concentrated firepower of more than a dozen ships.
“Battle stations,” the admiral ordered. “Let’s get the interceptors out there and see if they really want to play.”
“Code white. All hands to defensive stations. Launch the interceptors. Code white. This is not a drill. We are under attack. Code white.” Ducat ordered over the station wide com. His voice showed no sign of emotion, but as Quintana watched him, it was obvious he was feeling the same thing they all were.
The war had come to them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Armstrong: Station-keeping Above L-4 Prime:
“Is the chancellor aboard the Katana yet?” Nakamiru asked as he clipped his headset over his ear. Once they began maneuvering, it was going to get hard to hear anything said on the ConDeck.
“Not yet,” Jeffers said. “It’s just docked and they’re escorting her to the lock. We’re set to maneuver as soon as they blow clear. We’ve relayed our initial trajectory to the pilot, and he says he’ll swing wide and clear as soon as we boost.”
Shan Takhu Legacy Box Set - With an Extra Bonus Story Page 80