Starhold (28 page)

Rhaab’s voice was remarkably composed as she reported to Haldryn and Balasi. “We have massive damage to the ventral hull. Three docking bays are gone, and at least two dozen compartments are open to space—we’re sealing the ones that didn’t self-seal. I’m sure we have well over two hundred dead and even more trapped inside damaged sections.”

A stunned Haldryn was still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. “So, those two were never on the ship?” he asked to no one in particular.

Balasi thought the question was aimed at him. “My guess is that they were on the surface, remotely controlling the ship and feeding their comm signals through it.”

Haldryn quickly stiffened to compose himself. “Balasi, round up all the Black Caps you can and meet me in the forward shuttlebay.”

As the captain rushed off, Rhaab glanced down at a report scrolling across her station screen, frowning as she read the message. “My Lord, engines are off-line. In addition, one shield generator was destroyed and two others have been severely damaged. Right now, we only have aft shields.”

“Captain, do what you can to bring things under control. Reinforcements will be arriving in a couple of hours. I’m going planetside.”

At first, Rhaab thought maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. “You’re going planetside, sir?”

“Yes, to hold Carr to his word.”

* * * *

Denlora was a wiry young Asian girl. When she and her four companions showed up at Korab’s earlier in the evening to take the foreigners to their ship, Carr thought she looked more like a high school student than a freedom fighter. It turned out he was almost correct—all five of his escorts were students at a small school that was the Bakkoan equivalent of a university.

Korab assured Carr he would be in good hands and besides, it was Denlora’s bunch or no one. The young Underground members certainly didn’t lack confidence. “Don’t worry chief, we’ll get you there,” said Denlora when introduced to Carr. “Besides,” she continued, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to a cute thing like you.” Carr laughed, but out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw Sanchez give the girl a dirty look.

In the early morning darkness, as the youngsters stood guard outside
Kite,
Sanchez and Carr worked inside the vessel to pull off their grand deception. Sanchez had slaved
Kestrel’s
controls to
Kite’s
command system and had piloted the other ship by remote. Their video transmission to
Imperial Wrath
was fed through
Kestrel
to give the illusion that the two Sarissans were on board.

Once
Kestrel
started docking procedures with the Rhuzari titan, Sanchez relinquished control to the ship’s own computer with instructions to land, open the hatch, and detonate the explosive package. The opening of the hatch was unnecessary drama, but Sanchez and Carr wanted Haldryn and Balasi to see how they had been deceived—hopefully, just before they died. Call it a bit of vengeance for Susan Mumphrey.

“
Kestrel
should have blown roughly thirty seconds ago,” said Carr. “Wonder how we did?”

Sanchez nodded. “Let’s find out. Ship, access the nearest Task Force Nineteen picket drone and display data at my station.”

“Acknowledged,” responded
Kite’s
computer voice, displaying no emotion regarding the loss of her sister. “Drone R-44 accessed. Data at your station, Commander.”

Suddenly, Carr noticed a disturbance outside the ship—someone was shouting. “Ship, give me an external view.”

The images showed Denlora and her four comrades lined up and kneeling on the ground, hands behind their heads. About a dozen Bakkoan greenshirts held guns on them. “You in the ship!” yelled the officer in charge. “Come out now with your hands in the air!” Then, as if an afterthought, he added, “And don’t try to sabotage anything. If something funny happens, these kids all get it, be it now, or a week from now.”

Carr and Sanchez looked at each other and then both unbuckled their safety harnesses and rose from their seats. “Remind me why we decided not to do this from orbit,” said Carr.

“More chance of being noticed, remember? We didn’t want to get caught,” she replied, almost giggling. “Carr, just out of curiosity, how did you get the idea for this plan anyway?”

“It hit me during that whole business of you and Mumphrey thinking Shannon was my wife,” said Carr as he moved toward the hatchway. “It occurred to me that we might be able to use
Kite
and
Kestrel
to pull off a similar case of mistaken identity.”

A voice came from outside again. “You in the ship! You have ten seconds to get out here!”

“You know, we could have just taken off,” Carr said opening the hatch.

“Not your style,” answered Sanchez, “nor mine.”

Carr walked outside, raising his hands. “So, when you checked the drone data, what did you see?” he whispered to her. “Did we get them?”

“Well, we didn’t kill them, but we sure clobbered them good.”

29: Attack!

Union cruiser Tempest

Sol System

“Ship, increase the plasma level by six percent and repeat simulation.”

“Level increased. Running simulation. Simulation completed with negative impact.”

Commander Mullenhoff pounded her fist on the work console. “Dammit!” she shouted to no one in particular. Taylin Adams put down the datapad she was working on and rubbed her eyes as David Swoboda passed her the coffee thermos.

“No, no more for me,” Adams said. “If I drink another cup of that stuff I’ll have a hole in my stomach. David, that’s it! We can penetrate those shields by spraying them with your coffee.”

Swoboda finished his umpteenth cup of the stuff. “Actually, that’s the best idea we’ve had so far.”

“I wouldn’t say that in front of the Captain, if I were you,” said Adams. “He probably isn’t—” The door opened and Chaz Pettigrew entered as Adams clammed up. Pettigrew sat down, placed his elbows on the conference table and interlaced his fingers.

“Anything?”

Mullenhoff ignored his presence. “Ship, increase the plasma level by nine percent and repeat simulation.” When the computer sim again failed, the engineer turned to face her commanding officer, remaining silent.

The captain mustered a fatigued smile. “I’m going to take that as a ‘no.’”

“We did have a promising idea about an hour ago,” replied Mullenhoff, “but it would take more energy than even a battleship could generate, let alone a cruiser.”

Pettigrew closed his eyes and rested his chin on his hands. “Marcus Aurelius said that the secret to victory lies in the organization of the non-obvious. We must be missing something.”

“Ya think?” Mullenhoff snapped. “Maybe we could get Marcus in here to show us what that is,” snarled the chief engineer, whose face then turned red. “Wow, I am so sorry. That was completely uncalled for and I apologize, sir.”

Pettigrew shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “I wasn’t helping. You three have been at it for how long now, five hours?”

“How much longer do we have, Captain?” inquired Adams. Time was running as short as Mullenhoff’s patience. The main enemy fleet was creeping closer on their sprint from Saturn.

“Maybe another two hours. I’ve been in a holo-meeting with the fleet captains. The consensus is that we have no chance of success in attacking the enemy titan if we can’t find a way through their shields. Maybe Parker Knox was right after all.”

Adams flared. “He may have been right in his tactical appraisal, but everything else about that sorry performance was wrong, as wrong as it could be.” Forgetting herself, she poured another cup of coffee and took a drink.

“You’re right about that,” said Pettigrew, “but clearly Knox has some emotional problems.”

Adams swished the coffee around in her mouth, and lacking anywhere to spit it out, she gulped it down. “I know, I know. Attempted mutiny just makes it hard for me to be sympathetic. Speaking of Knox, has anyone checked on him lately, sir?”

“The guard looked in a little while ago and said he was asleep.”

Adams tilted her head, listening to her earpiece as a smile came across her face.

“Good news, Commander?”

“Of a sort. The bridge reports we’re receiving a tight-beam data dump from the scout ship
Kestrel
, and it’s tagged with the ID codes of the OMI operatives. It’s genuine, sir.”

“This could be the break we need. After they scrub it, have the data sent directly to this station. Maybe the agents discovered something we can use.”

“You know,” said Swoboda, “in all the data that
Vespera
sent us about the enemy, the thing that amazes me the most is that they’re humans. Where do you think they came from, Captain?”

“Beats the hell out of me, Commander. They might be—”

The frantic voice of Lieutenant Nyondo called over Pettigrew’s comm badge. “Captain, you need to come to the bridge—now!”

Pettigrew got to his feet and rushed out of the compartment. “Keep at it you three!” he yelled as he ran off.

Mullenhoff turned back to her console. “Ship, increase the plasma level by ten percent and repeat simulation.”

* * * *

“It just blew up,” said Lieutenant Rojas.

Pettigrew settled into his command chair. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

“No, sir.”

The captain crossed his arms and thought for a moment.
Could we really have gotten this lucky?

“Is there any indication from any station on this bridge that this could be an enemy trick of some sort? Could they be feeding us false data?”

No one said anything and Rojas turned to his CO. “Everything checks out, sir. There was a large explosion inside the enemy vessel, as well as several secondary explosions.” Rojas listened to his earpiece for a second before turning back to Pettigrew. “Sir, CIC reports that the enemy shields are down.”

“Mr. Rojas, are you absolutely sure of that?”

“Positive. They still have aft shielding, but eighty percent of the ship is showing unshielded.”

Providence had given him an opening. There was no time to formulate a plan and no time for hesitation. As bad as the damage appeared, those shields could be back up soon. He had to act and he had to act now.

“Ensign Davis, fleet channel—on the double!” he ordered. “Commander Adams,” he spoke into his comm badge.

“Adams here.”

“You three drop what you’re doing and report to your stations.”

“What’s go—,” Adams was saying as he cut her off.

“Sir, you’re on with the fleet,” prompted Davis.

“This is Captain Pettigrew. It looks like the Many Gods have given us a break. All ships immediately form up on
Tempest
and head for that enemy titan at battle speed.”

Adams and Swoboda ran back onto the bridge and sat down at their stations, their faces bewildered upon seeing images of the enemy ship.

“Chaz, Gambell here.” It was the captain of the other surviving cruiser,
Sinopa
. “What’s the plan?”

“No plan, Aaron, or not much of one. When we arrive at the objective,
Goshawk
and
Brigand
are with
Tempest, Banshee
and
Rasiel
are with
Sinopa
. Captain Gambell, you approach from the enemy’s eleven o’clock low and we’ll go in at one o’clock low. I want to keep on their underside so that we can exploit the damage caused by that explosion. Try your best to stay under the firing arc of their forward batteries. Let’s move! Pettigrew out.”

Adams walked over from her XO station. “A headlong charge into the enemy? Not quite your style,” she said in a voice meant only for his ears.

“Style won’t cut it today, Taylin. We need to attack before they can reactivate those shields. Besides,” Pettigrew said with a wink, “Admiral Getchell once told me that I think too much.”

The six Union warships hurtled toward
Imperial Wrath
traveling nearly sixty thousand kilometers per second, and still it took almost twenty-five minutes to reach their objective. The Rhuzari titan was in a bad way, as various explosions continued to rock the behemoth. That was the problem however, it
was
gigantic and even severely wounded it was a dangerous beast.

“Any movement on those three enemy bandits near the shipyard?” asked Pettigrew, his ships maneuvering into attack positions.

“No movement, sir,” Adams responded. “They’re sticking close to the yard.”

“And the main body of their fleet?”

“ETA in eighty-eight minutes.”

Pettigrew nodded. “Should be enough time. We’re going to make our attack run, then double-jump. We’ll pop outside the system, recharge the jump engines, and then back to the tankers to refuel. Even with our recharge time, the enemy fleet will be too far away from Jupiter by then to catch us. After that, we’ll head for home. There’s no way we can take on those other twelve enemy ships and win, but I’ll be damned if we’re going to let this titan survive while we have a chance to kill it.”

Adams looked uncomfortable as she checked something on her console. “Sir, if we double-jump,
Goshawk
and
Banshee
won’t have enough hyperdrive fuel to make the translation back to Jupiter.”

“Then we’ll abandon those ships outside the system and take their crews aboard the remainder of the fleet.”

The half-dozen Sarissan vessels were almost in attack position and Pettigrew was studying his displays. “Mr. Swoboda, are
Sinopa’s
missiles slaved to your station?”

“Aye, Captain, and we’re entering the firing envelope… now.”

“Fire all missiles.”

“Missiles away.”

The smaller warships had expended their supply of missiles during the first attack on the enemy titan. Only
Tempest
and
Sinopa
had any remaining, and Pettigrew meant to make them count. The missiles took a preprogrammed track forward and underneath
Imperial Wrath
, where most of the ship’s defensive weaponry had been damaged or destroyed. Then, like a flock of lethal birds, they turned in unison and headed up and over the port side of the enemy vessel. Without its shields, the
Wrath’s
defenses were overwhelmed as nearly a hundred Union warheads slammed into the dorsal side of the mighty warship.

On the bridge of Task Force 19’s new flagship, there was no time to celebrate the well-executed strike. “
Tempest
squadron,
Sinopa
squadron—commence strafing run.”

On the underside of the titan, a huge cavity stretched seventy meters wide, belching debris, gases, and the occasional body from the bowels of
Imperial Wrath.
Whatever exploded to cause this destruction had been incredibly powerful.

The Union warships, three on each side of the huge gash, proceeded underneath the enemy’s hull. They used their pulse cannons to repeatedly blast at the injured enemy vessel. Damaged though it was, the rival ship managed to strike back, like a wounded animal defending its last breath of life. Two focused plasma beam batteries struck at
Banshee
, digging deep into the destroyer’s armor until the beams broke through the outside plating. Another blast sliced completely through amidships, a fatal blow as
Banshee
heaved and ripped apart, ending the lives of more than two hundred souls.

As the five remaining ships passed under the stern of the titan, enemy missile batteries lashed out at
Tempest
and
Sinopa
. Pettigrew’s ship, with its full complement of anti-missile missiles and point defense arrays, got off with light damage. Her sister was not as fortunate. Four missiles broke through
Sinopa’s
defenses, slamming into the vessel and severely damaging it.

“
Goshawk
and
Brigand
—move to protect
Sinopa
,” ordered Pettigrew as the five Union ships limped further away from the enemy titan, which appeared to be making an attempt at coming about.

Adams spotted it. “Captain, they’re trying to maneuver.”

Pettigrew glanced at his tactical display. “Well, we can’t have that. Commander Swoboda, are all of our ships far enough away yet?”

“Aye, sir, we have good distance.”

“Very well—detonate the mines.”

As
Tempest
and
Sinopa
were passing beneath the enemy ship, hitting her with pulse cannon blasts, they were also disgorging their entire complement of remote mines. As the manta-shaped
Imperial Wrath
tried to maneuver to pursue its opponents, a sea of force and fire erupted beneath the ship. The tip of
Wrath’s
port side ‘wing’ broke off and began to drift away. A cloud of debris engulfed the mighty vessel, spewing upward from underneath the ship, pushed in that direction by the force of the mine explosions.

It was amazing that the
Imperial Wrath
still existed in any form. Considering the damage it had sustained, the warship should have been destroyed a hundred times. The grand ship was a remarkable feat of engineering and construction. But no matter what humans build, other humans can destroy, and now life pods were beginning to eject from the shattered main body of
Wrath
—a great many of them.

“Comm, get me
Sinopa
,” ordered Pettigrew, as he watched data streaming across his command console. “Aaron, what does it look like over there?”

Sinopa’s
bridge appeared on the main viewscreen. Captain Gambell was strapped into his command chair as crewmembers and objects floated around him. “We’ve been better. Twenty-three dead and more wounded. As you can see, we’ve gone zero-G, but right now our biggest problem is that our jump engines are off-line.” Gambell paused as an ensign said something to him as she floated by. “Chaz let me get back to you in five. Gambell out.”

It would be around fifty minutes before the main force of the Rhuzari fleet arrived. If
Sinopa
couldn’t get their jump engines up and running before then…

“Commander Adams, what is the status of those three enemy vessels nearby? Have they moved away from the shipyard?”

“No, sir—still hugging mama.”

Pettigrew rubbed his chin. “That’s really odd. If anything, you’d think one or two of them would break away to pick up those life pods.”

“About those pods, sir,” spoke up Swoboda from his tactical station. “They don’t appear to have any kind of thrusters. They’re just drifting out there.”

“Spit it out, David,” said Adams. Swoboda was a fine officer, but he tended to prevaricate.

“The problem is we’re so close to Earth that some of those pods are starting to feel the gravitational pull. If someone doesn’t recover them soon, they’ll start to fall into the atmosphere. And without heat shielding…” Swoboda didn’t have to continue.

At the helm, Sephora Nyondo was staring straight ahead, but Pettigrew could tell from her rigid posture that she was straining to listen for his response. Rojas, Davis, all of them were going about their business, but their minds were focused on him.

He had chosen this life, with the burdens of command and the crush of the gray areas. Balancing the right thing and the best thing was never an easy task. Few could do it and even fewer could do it well.
That could just as easily be my crew out there.