Authors: Kindal Debenham
The first two shots came from a frigate maneuvering off
Terrier
’s starboard side. Both shells struck aft of the arms containing the gun decks. They ripped into the starboard armor like wrecking balls. Explosions tore chunks of the ship into smoking craters. Shockwaves shuddered throughout the ship as the destroyer continued forward. As severe as those hits happened to be, neither had managed to severely weaken the destroyer’s offensive capability. The officer’s mess was likely open to space, and the training deck was nothing but a smoking ruin, but his crew and weapons were still intact.
Such was not the case with the third blow. It came from directly ahead of the
Terrier
, fired by a corvette that had taken the dubious strategy of speeding up and maneuvering suicidally close to the
Terrier
. It flew past the shattered ruins of its fellows, slipped between the frantic lashes of plasma energy spraying from defensive turrets, and struck cerrafiber weakened by showers of shell fragments, with all the relative velocity of both ships lending it extra force. In the best of circumstances, such a hit would have been a severe blow. With conditions far worse than ideal, it was devastating.
The Oduran shell pierced the layers of cerrafiber armor, shattering them. It plowed through plates of hardened ceramic alloy and carbon nanofiber nets. It punched a ragged hole in the hull metal beneath, passed a few more centimeters, and detonated, turning Gun Deck A into a tiny pocket of hell. Fire and shrapnel vomited out of the breached compartment, and the three guns assigned to that fire control station went still.
Jacob felt lead sink into his gut at the sight of the damage reports from the blasted area. Isaac, the officer in charge of the guns, should have been near Gun Deck A in central fire control. Even as the shockwaves rolled up the ship to the bridge, Jacob felt himself shake inside as he realized his friend might have been killed by that blow, and that he had died still believing Jacob had turned on him.
Grief welled up, but Jacob shoved it aside. A quick check showed
Beagle
had survived the same devastating barrage, though the ship had taken damage. Craters pockmarked the underside of the second
Hunter
class craft, and flaming atmosphere was leaking from the area that held the ensign’s quarters. Still, Leon had apparently managed to avoid severe damage, and his ship was still tucked in alongside the
Terrier
.
Bad as it had been for Jacob’s ships, the Odurans had fared a hell of a lot worse. Corvettes and frigates sported better acceleration and maneuverability, but armor was severely lacking. Shells punched through their hulls like they were paper, and at least one shot hit a
Hawkbeak
class ship in a fusion reactor. The ship fountained plasma, evaporating hull plates, armor, and crew as the super-hot substance spilled over the length of it. Two other corvettes tumbled out of the other side of the engagement, just as terribly damaged. A frigate went with them, its superstructure broken and ruined.
The remainder of the Oduran ships staggered on, their formation ruined and their ships in tatters. Those who weren’t nursing wounds from their run past the destroyers were still completely isolated from their opponents and struggling to turn and fight the
Hunter
class ships now diving away from them. Their obvious desire to avenge themselves on the ships under Jacob’s command almost brought a smile to his face, given how foolish their maneuvers were now. The cost they had paid to achieve that effect was enough to keep him somber, however.
Jacob’s former targets were still coming around when Celostian corvettes and frigates came sweeping in behind his destroyers. Their angle of attack was different, but their velocity and maneuverability were both higher. Unlike Jacob’s ships, they had the leisure of selecting their targets from an already disoriented, scattered pack. Jacob watched in satisfaction as an
Arrowhead
and a
Knife
lined up a run on an isolated
Hatchet
class frigate. The corvette made first contact, sprinting past the blade shaped vessel firing its single railgun. It managed to score two glancing hits, shaking the point defense crews up enough for the
Knife
’s follow-up salvo to rip through the Oduran ship. Other firing runs by the rest of the Celostian ships managed to kill another corvette outright and cripple the last of the frigates. The lone remaining ship, a solitary
Bullet
class corvette with a crater on its prow, turned and dove. Its crew was probably hoping to lose itself in the clash shaping up below.
Jacob turned his attention back to the course his destroyers were following. Directly ahead was another group of ships made up of a
Brute
class cruiser and two
Crossbow
class destroyers. It was an effective formation;
Brute
class cruisers were notorious for their close range firepower, while the
Crossbow
s normally sported multiple missile launchers. Keying the command communications circuit, Jacob snapped out orders.
“Squadron 43, focus on the destroyers and stay clear of the cruiser.
Terrier
, hit the one to port.
Beagle
, take the starboard side. Hit the cruiser with sailjammers, then form up on the far side.”
Even as the words left his mouth, missiles streamed out of the
Crossbow
s, aiming for some distant target below them where the main body of the Celostian task force was plowing through the waves of Oduran craft. Jacob gritted his teeth at the casualties those weapons would cause, but at least they hadn’t realized the danger his ships presented to them. A missile volley straight into his squadron’s teeth would be devastating.
Unfortunately, the cruiser seemed to have realized how much of a threat the
Hunter
s could be. Heavy railgun batteries and plasma lances swept out to greet the destroyers as they moved in for the kill. None of the lances came close enough to make contact, but
Terrier
shuddered as more shells impacted on the armor.
Ensign Remmers called out from his station. “We have more casualties in Engineering. Gun Deck A continues to be offline.”
Flint’s voice was tight. “Transfer control of any operational guns to Decks B and C. All weapons target the enemy destroyer.”
Both destroyers opened fire, and a rain of heavy railgun shells pounded the Oduran craft. Their captains tried to swerve out of the way at the last minute, but the maneuver was too little, too late. Armor plates shattered and fragmented. Flames streamed from the wounded ships.
Terrier
’s target reeled away. One of the branching arms had snapped off where it had met the central hull.
Beagle
’s opponent fared far worse, with its entire forward sections ablaze. Jacob’s ships had shot past the enemy, and he watched with dread as the cruiser’s rear batteries swiveled to target his destroyers’ vulnerable DE sails.
Then four torpedoes slammed straight into the
Brute
class ship, staggering the bulky craft with a terrible blow. A glance at his console told him the projectiles had been launched by the
Crown
class cruiser
Henry
, and he sent a mental prayer of thanks for the timely assistance. The Celostian cruiser closed with its wounded opponent, the two ships exchanging fire in a rain of railgun shells.
Jacob turned his attention forward again. An opening in the Oduran formation would have allowed him a straight line at the enemy dreadnaught. In spite of the incredible defenses the flagship must have offered Al-Mustafa, the general had clearly decided discretion was the better part of valor. The dreadnaught turned to run, giving Jacob’s ships a clear shot at her DE sail rigs. If they could close, they could cripple her and allow the rest of the Navy to catch her before she jumped again.
Just as he was about to give the orders, Al-shira’s voice crackled over the communications line from
Badger
. “Captain Hull, you have incoming enemy corvettes from the rear. Repeat, you have incoming enemy ships from behind you. Watch your backs!”
“Damn it!” Jacob caught sight of the Oduran ships, arcing up from the main fight. Their greater speed had allowed them to turn up and into his course. That meant they would have those same clear shots at his own DE rigs he had wanted on the dreadnaught, and his ships would end up just as crippled. “
Terrier
,
Beagle
, prepare to reverse course and decelerate on my mark. Engage enemy corvettes as they close to close range. Three, two, one, mark!”
His stomach jumped into his throat and he rose, almost weightless in his restraints as
Terrier
flipped end for end. The Helm officer had performed the maneuver perfectly, and as the DE sails reengaged, the corvettes found themselves lined up directly in the gunners’ fields of fire. Though their guns had to still be cooling from the firing run on the destroyers, every gun opened up again, sending a flurry of hurried bursts towards their enemies. The corvettes scattered before the sudden assault. Their own responding shots were badly off target, and the few that were well aimed were intercepted by defense fire.
As the corvettes swept past, Jacob saw the dreadnaught had gained a small screening force. Two
Club
class destroyers and three
Hatchet
class frigates filled the opening he had meant to dive through. Worse than that, a
Scythe
class cruiser had joined them, the large craft already rolling to present the lines of missile bays along its dorsal hull. That ship alone had the firepower to wipe out his squadron if they did not close quickly, but even then the escorts would be more than a match for his ships.
Yet there was no choice. If the dreadnaught was going to be stopped, he had to give the order. “Squadron 43, resume original course and accelerate. Attempt to pass close to the cruiser and target the frigates as we pass. We’ll punch through and try to hit the dreadnaught as she runs.”
Flint jerked visibly. His voice seemed almost on the breaking point. “Sir, if we close with them—”
“I know, Commander. Follow your orders!” Jacob met the man’s eyes for a moment, keeping his face firm as Flint studied him. Then Flint turned to the Helm officer and gave a sharp nod. Again the ship switched directions, this time crushing Jacob down into his seat as they flipped, and both destroyers accelerated madly toward the enemy ships. As quickly as they carried out the maneuver, though, it was too late. Missile targeting alarms began to blare as the
Scythe
’s missile bays opened, and Jacob fought the urge to close his eyes against the barrage he knew would come.
Then a huge shape appeared, drilling into the enemy formation from below and starboard. Railgun fire shattered the forward pair of frigates, and a giant spear of fire raked the forward portion of the enemy cruiser. Jacob’s jaw fell open as the newcomer turned, its batteries still pounding away at the crippled
Scythe
class ship, and then its profile fell into place. He turned his attention to Ensign Dukoff.
“Signal the
Gawain
and give Captain Espinoza our thanks.”
A short cheer broke out on the bridge as a pair of giant explosions rocked the enemy cruiser.
Jacob tapped the command channel again and tried not to look too triumphant. “Squadron, provide fire support for the
Gawain
as we pass, and then lock sailjammers onto the dreadnaught. Captain Hull out.”
The
Knight
class cruisers had been touted by their builders as superb combat ships, and Captain Espinoza was certainly proving that claim correct. Her ship had come around in a clean turn that mocked the efforts of the
Scythe
class craft’s efforts to run. The first plasma lance hit had ruined its DE sails, and as
Gawain
closed, her powerful weapons now tore into the main hull. Missile hits battered the length of the ship, while railgun turrets encouraged the remaining destroyers and frigates to run. Then the lance blazed to life and sliced the enemy cruiser open with terrible ease. Its flaming corpse continued to tumble forward, but the cruiser was clearly no longer part of the fight.
Jacob had one moment to celebrate their triumph before the first missile hit. It streaked in from above the
Gawain
, followed by an avalanche of its brethren. Anti-missile flechettes sprayed out in an effort to intercept the bombardment, but there were too many contacts to track and destroy. Impact after impact rocked the
Knight
class cruiser, until there was no hope it could be saved. Escape boats began to sprout from emergency sections all over the ship, and the cruiser rolled to reveal a flank carved in flame and wreckage. After a few more moments, those flames went out, and the
Gawain
was dead.
A sudden silence filled the bridge, but then Jacob forced himself to speak. “Ensign Remmers, where did those missiles come from?”
The Sensor officer’s voice seemed to be impossibly dry. “The dreadnaught, sir. The damn Odurans must have focused their entire salvo on
Gawain
.”
“Thank you Ensign.” Jacob took a deep breath and tried not to picture
Terrier
keeling over the same way
Gawain
had. It wasn’t easy. “Continue closing with the dreadnaught. We have to get inside her missile range and stop her.”
Flint twisted around in his seat. For a moment, he looked as if he was on the edge of an outburst. Then he restrained himself with an effort. “Sir, are you sure? We have no capability to stop that kind of attack on our squadron.”
“We have no choice, Commander Flint.”
Flint’s expression seemed to close down, and Jacob shook his head. He turned back to the projection. There were no other ships nearby, now; the closest was a
Brute
class cruiser off to starboard that wouldn’t be in range until after they’d made their first attack run. Jacob put that detail out of his mind for a moment and focused on the rest of the situation.