Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) (32 page)

“Crap.” He looked up at the seventeen ship captain images that lined the top of the wallscreen. “Fleet admiral, looks like the enemy is leaving their colony. And taking down our spysats on their way out. I’m damned glad you agreed to have the
Inchon
follow us back here. They would have been overwhelmed.”

“True,” his father said, a grimace filling his face. “Looks like this truce was just to buy time for them to put down their baby wasps. Now they’re heading our way.” The man fixed on Jacob. “You warned me this would happen. Now they’re doing just what they did to you at Kepler 22. Well, I have a few surprises for them.” His father looked down. “Captain Canowicakte, move the
Midway
out of here. Set us on course for planet three. All ships, follow!”

Putting aside his recollection that the name of the Sioux captain meant ‘good hunter of the forest’ in Lakota, Jacob focused on commanding the
Lepanto
.

“Navigation, set us on a vector that puts us alongside the admiral’s ship,” he said quickly. “Engines, give me full power on all three thrusters. Gravity, Weapons and Tactical, bring your teams to full staffing.”

“Sir, both outriggers are fully staffed,” called Oliver from his Weapons station. “The proton laser nodes, plasma batteries, railguns and antimatter cannon are also staffed by first shift. The AM cannon has eight shots holding in her mag storage.”

“Same for Tactical,” called Rosemary, her wide shoulders tensing within her clear vacsuit. “I am cross-linking our targeting sensors. We’re ready to combine our energy beam firing with that of other ships.”

“Captain, Gravity is normalized on all decks of the
Lepanto
,” reported Cassandra from her station. “My techs are standing by at all gravplate energizers. They’re ready to shift power as needed, or to cut all gravity pull upon your command.”

Jacob had no wish to repeat his one-time killing of ship gravity fields in order to escape the black hole field of the giant wasp ship. His Navigator and the Navigators on every fleet ship well understood the need to stay at least 4,000 klicks away from both giant wasp ships. Although he thought the ship once commanded by Hunter One was unable to erect such a field. No matter. It was a prime space battle command now, thanks to his father’s new orders during their voyage into the system and over to the third world. Their watch there had been boring. So they’d left once the wasps put out vacsuited crew to repair hull damage. It was clear that action had just been part of the dance of deception as ordered by this Hunter Prime. Who seemed a far slicker opponent than Hunter One.

“Captain Renselaer,” called Alicia from where she sat strapped in. “My xenolinguist has composed several more English-to-wasp statements that might be used for disruption of wasp ship actions. May I send them to you?”

“Yes. Send them to the XO, to my tablet and out to the admiral.” He stopped before saying it was vital that more than one Battlestar had access to such wasp language date, in case one of their ships blew up in the coming battle. “I’ll review them on our way out.” He looked away from the image of his father and to the situational holo that showed the space around the moon. All eighteen ships were there, including the
Inchon
. Its crew had spent their time heading in-system, then in orbit above planet three, working to restore their knocked out second thruster. They could now make ten percent of lightspeed, although how long the destroyer’s repairs would last was anyone’s guess. He put that aside and focused on the true space imagery that showed the ships of the two battle groups following the
Midway
and the
Lepanto
away from the moon and inward to the third orbital. The wallscreen’s central image of the wasp ships streaming away from planet three now vanished in a flash of white as the last spysat was killed. “We’re heading out.”

♦   ♦   ♦

“It looks like we’ll meet them at the halfway point,” Daisy heard Jacob say an hour later.

“Looks likely,” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice calm and firm.

Presenting a confident appearance to the crew at their duty stations on the Bridge, and elsewhere on the
Lepanto
, was vital. People knew they were heading to a final fight with two giant wasp ships and thirteen smaller, destroyer-size ships. They knew the Battlestar was not invulnerable. The repairs to the deep holes cut into the ship’s belly, nose and top rear had been done well by the engineers at the
Green Hills
. But there was no normal metal that met the exacting composition of armor metal. Which left her ship with three vulnerable spots, although all weapons systems were fully operational. She hoped Quincy, now in charge of the right outrigger’s CO
2
and proton laser nodes, would survive the upcoming battle. This would be a fight to the finish. Either every wasp ship would be killed, or every Earth ship would die in the attempt. They could never allow a fully mobile wasp ship to reach missile launch range of Valhalla. Her memory of visiting the people of Stockholm, seeing their first responders risking their lives after the last attack, and then going fishing in one of the nearby lakes with a nurse from the local hospital, that had imprinted on her a love for that world.

“Tactical,” called Jacob. “What’s the range to the enemy?”

“Twelve point four million kilometers,” Rosemary said. “They’re moving at ten psol, just like us. But they’re slowing now. We’ll meet in less than five minutes.”

Her overhead image of Jacob showed him nodding quickly. “All Ship! Brace for combat! Engines, slow us to one percent. That’s what the
Midway
is doing.”

“Reducing thrust,” called Akira from her station.

Her heart beat fast and she had to work hard at not breathing too fast. Hyperventilation was not something she wished to feel.

♦   ♦   ♦

Richard checked his ship cross-section holo that lay to the right of his seat. It showed all ship weapons systems as Green Operational. That he expected. What mattered more to him was the situation in the hangar next to Silo Eight. His Marines were gathered just outside the three Darts, each wearing a Shinshoni Hard Shell. His pilots were already onboard, making engines and systems hot. He knew he could count on the pilots Linda, Howard and Aaron. The team leaders like Jane were checking the battle loads of each person’s hard shell. Thanks to Auggie losing his Dart, up to six Marines could load onto each remaining Dart. Which were now named
Chao Lee
,
Chapultepec
and
Tarawa
. The last name evoked his memory of the WWII journal
Touched By Fire
. At least in space his Marines did not have to smell the dead bodies rotting and bursting open from hundred degree heat and humidity that drained all energy. Mauritius had been bad enough, fighting the Creole Muslims who supported the foreign jihadists in their fight to overthrow the dominating Hindus. Worse had been the jihadists who killed the Malaysian president, then had retreated to that nation’s thick jungles. He remembered his uniform and boots going very rotty. At least they’d had enough ammo. He put away those memories and focused on what he, his Marines and their Darts might do in the forthcoming battle. He tapped the control patch on his right armrest that gave him a link to the Shinshoni suit frequency.

“Pilots, stand by to launch on the captain’s orders. Auggie, Wayne and Jane, are your teams ready?”

“Ready,” called Jane. “Standing by outside the
Chao Lee
.

“Locked, loaded and powered up,” reported Auggie from the
Chapultepec
.

“Ready to kill something,” yelled Wayne from the
Tarawa
, which was also the assembly spot for some of the Marines who would have loaded into the Dart that had blown on the comet ship.

He knew Wayne would parcel the extra people out to the other two Darts as needed, no doubt being the first to board the
Tarawa
. Wayne was a gyrene of the old school. A fact that Richard quite liked.

“Marines! If we’re going for a board, fill the Darts. If we’re sent out to sharpshoot, just the pilot and a single Marine to handle the laser go out. The rest of you stay in the hangar and shoot dice.”

“Bitchin’,” called Linda.

Richard smiled. The master sergeant was overdue for promotion to first sergeant, except Earth Command reserved that rank for team leaders. Well, Linda was a hell of a lot more than a pilot. Maybe when they got back to Earth and resupplied with a fourth Dart he could put her in charge of its team.

He glanced up at the front wallscreen. Its central true space image showed a telescopic view of the incoming wasp ships. One group of seven, with a giant ship in the middle of a ring of six. A second group held eight ships, including a giant. Which made their formation a six-on-one and another seven-on-one grouping. Well, it was very similar to how the wasps had arranged their first attack using twelve ships to come around the fourth planet of Kepler 22. What kind of formation would the admiral call out now? He couldn’t wait to hear it.

♦   ♦   ♦

Aarhant Bannerjee locked the slidedoor that gave access to his quarters and turned back to sit in his overstuffed chair. He reached out for the bottle of Scotch that he preferred during tense times. Which were now. His assistants were above, in the Navigation control center, which was just one deck under the outer Weapons Deck. Too close to the ship’s hull, in his view. His quarters on the Habitation Deck were near the center of the
Lepanto
, which it made two decks below and four decks above a buffer against incoming energy beams. Short of leaving the Battlestar, staying in his quarters was the safest place he could be.

He swigged down a swallow of straight Scotch, not bothering with the shot glass that stood on the nearby table. His tablet buzzed. He ignored it. Then it spoke with the voice of the Singapore woman who was his first assistant.

“Bannerjee! We’re about to enter battle. Your place is here in the control center,” she said, her English carrying a strong Chinese accent, which clearly said she was upset.

“It’s Lieutenant Commander, you hag,” he replied. “I’m sick with the flu. You and the Kenyan handle what needs handling. We’re stuck in this system until the wasps go away. Do the job I gave you!”

“Understood.”

His tablet gave a soft click as she cut the connection.

Well, she and that gay bastard could take their chances with the Weapons Deck being punched through by one of those wasp lightning bolts. He wouldn’t. And illness was an acceptable excuse from being absent from his duty station, according to Star Navy regs. He knew that. He’d researched it many years ago.

Putting down the bottle of Scotch, he took the wallscreen control, switched off its view of the oncoming wasp fleet, and chose a Bollywood movie that featured a man who looked much like him. The man pretended to be the god Vishnu. His blue skin matched his pretence. Bannerjee did not have blue skin, just the normal dark brown common to most Hindus. But he did have a crown that resembled the one worn by this actor. It was a thing he’d ordered during his last Earth leave. It was something he enjoyed wearing in the privacy of his quarters, where no one but himself could see him.

Or could the AI Melody see him?

No matter. It was not a real person. And he didn’t give a damn what it or anyone else thought of him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Range is 12,000 klicks,” called Rosemary. “Both fleets are slowing to 900 kilometers a minute maneuvering speed.”

Jacob did not like the fact his forehead sweated every time he wore a vacsuit. As did his armpits. The cotton camo he wore underneath the vacsuit did little to help that. Up front he saw sweat showing on the camo shirts worn by Maggie, Oliver, Akira, Louise, Andrew, Cassandra and Joaquin. Only Rosemary and Willard didn’t show evidence of sweating as they faced the imminent deadly fighting. Daisy, Richard and Alicia sat with their backs against their seats so he couldn’t tell about them. And Lori and Carlos were behind him. Anyway, when would his father announce the attack formation? When would—

“All ships! Go to Alpha Scissor Blades formation!” his father said loudly. “One scissor forms on the
Lepanto
and one on the
Midway
. StarFight ships form on the
Lepanto
. Now!”

“Navigation! Move us out and to one side of this vector track,” Jacob ordered.