Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) (3 page)

“This is the third incursion in the last six months,” she said. “Do you think they’re finally gearing up for a major offensive?”

“I truly hope not,” Jackson said. “We’ve not come along nearly as fast as I’d hoped the last few years. We’re nowhere near ready to meet this enemy head on.”

“I can’t argue there,” she said. “Shall we remain on normal watch schedules?”

“Yes.” Jackson checked the mission clock and compared it to ship’s time. “Stand down from general quarters for now since we’re skirting well around the two major engagements. That puts first watch back on duty four hours before we begin braking for our Xi’an orbital insertion. It also means I want you to split your time on second watch with Lieutenant Davis.”

“Yes, sir.” She logged off her terminal and stood to leave the bridge. The pair had become much more comfortable around each other during the manic pace the previous three years. From having to train on an entirely new class of ship, to working at rebuilding a crew around the survivors from the
Blue Jacket
, they had been around each other almost constantly. While they still maintained a strict professionalism between them, they had become much more efficient at commanding a starship as a team and not just two ranking officers.

“Lieutenant Davis, work with Lieutenant Commander Barrett to break down the data the
Brooklands
sent over,” he ordered. “Alert me if you find anything in there that will affect our current tactics.”

“Yes, sir,” the pair said, nearly in unison, as each pulled up the data packet and began dividing the work between them.

The bridge crew efficiently went about their tasks as Jackson leaned back in his seat, debating whether he needed another cup of coffee or not. He looked around the bridge of the
Ares
, the second
Starwolf
-class ship to come out of the yards and the first put into active service. She still had the “new ship smell” as the new upholstery was still outgassing from the adhesives used, and the crew hadn’t had time to fully break her in.

The bridge required significantly less people than the old
Raptor
-class destroyer did. In fact, there were usually only seven people on the bridge at any given time. It made for a much less chaotic environment once his crew became accustomed to passing tasks down to their respective shops and then funneling the information back to him.

“Captain, we’re getting returns from the far side of the system,” Barrett said after another hour of relative silence. “The last known target data from the
Brooklands
is still accurate, we should only have ten individual targets over Xi’an when we get there.”

“That’s assuming they don’t have forces on the surface they can call on,” Jackson reminded him.

It hadn’t taken them long to learn that with their reactionless drives, the Phage could land significant forces on a planet and give a Terran fleet a nasty surprise if they came barreling into orbit thinking they had an advantage.

“Keep updating the existing target tracks, but have the long range radars sweeping in high-power mode. They know we’re here and roughly where we are already, so I want to favor intel over stealth.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jackson wasn’t overly concerned with the ten targets heading to Xi’an. The
Ares
would make short work of them before they could even get close to within weapons range. Beyond all else, Jackson was worried that in what appeared to be the early stages of a full out war, they’d yet to see any tactical assets from the enemy other than the small, easily defeated attack craft CENTCOM had unoriginally named
Bravos.
There were also a smattering of sightings of what appeared to be enormous cargo haulers, but so far, there hadn’t been anything even remotely like the monster, or the
Alpha
, that he’d fought across four-star systems.

Was that because they were so rare and difficult to produce? Or had humanity not demonstrated itself to be a great enough threat to warrant sending more? The absence of accurate information made him want to scream in frustration, and the apparent lack of movement on the part of CENTCOM made him want to do physical harm to an inanimate object.

“
Icarus
and
Atlas
have reported in.” The young ensign at the coms station interrupted his thoughts. “All Bravos chasing the
Brooklands
have been destroyed, thirty-two Hornet missiles expended between them.”

“Excellent,” Jackson said. “Order the
Icarus
and
Atlas
to begin their push toward Xi’an. Inform Captain Lee that he may fly the
Brooklands
at his own discretion… He can depart the system or wait until we’ve cleared out all the Bravos.”

“Aye, sir. Transmitting now.”

“Are we overdue for a status from the
Artemis
and
Hyperion
?” Jackson eyed the mission clock.

“Negative, Captain,” Lieutenant Davis said. “They will not engage the enemy for another three hours.”

“Very good,” Jackson said. “Keep me updated if we get anything from them or the Third Fleet ships.”

The bridge fell into an eerie silence. The Tsuyo engineers had made the ship too comfortable, too sterile. He could barely hear or feel the main engines that were currently at full power, and the acoustics of the bridge had been so carefully planned that he was unable to hear the chatter between his bridge crew and their backshops. He didn’t like the isolated feeling or the false sense of security it induced. A warship should feel like what it was: an instrument of destruction, with all thought of crew comfort coming in a distant second.

Four more hours of the cursed silence slowly ticked by.

“Bravos have abandoned the pieces of the
Dao
and are now coming out to meet us,” Lieutenant Commander Barrett finally reported.

“Sound general quarters. Set condition 1SS.” Jackson ordered. “Are you still tracking ten Bravos, Tactical?”

“Yes, sir,” Barrett said. “Updating tracks and sending targeting info to the forward missile batteries.”

“Activate port battery, tubes one through twelve,” Jackson said. “Keep five more on ready reserve.”

“Aye, sir,” Barrett confirmed. “Missiles one through twelve now linked and updated with target package. We will be in optimum launch range within six hours.”

“Very good, Lieutenant Commander.” Jackson stood up to pace a bit. “Bring the forward laser projectors online as well. Lieutenant Davis, give Engineering a courtesy call that we’re bringing the tactical systems to full power.”

“Yes, sir.” Jillian Davis turned to make the call to Engineering. She seemed to be mouthing the words silently into her headset as the clever acoustic panels absorbed all the sound.

Jackson made a mental note to ask his Chief Engineer, Daya Singh, if it would be possible to replace or remove all the panels so he could hear what the hell was going on. Commander Wright and Lieutenant Keller rushed onto the bridge, the former looking like she’d been waiting for an alert and the latter looking like he’d been sound asleep.

“Bravos accelerating hard and splitting up into two groups,” Barrett said, his voice strained. “It looks like they’re going to try a pincer movement.”

“Helm, braking thrust, all reverse!” Jackson nodded to Celesta as she pulled up her own terminal to get caught up. “Cut our relative velocity by seventy percent, and then go to no-thrust.”

“All astern full, aye,” the helmsman called out, suddenly very alert. “Helm answering braking maneuver, reducing closure velocity by seventy percent.”

“Tactical, fire the Hornets just outside the optimum range.”

“Aye, sir,” Barrett said. “Updating firing solution now.”

The plots on the main display now updated much more quickly as the range between them and the Bravos decreased. The computer interposed a blue line between them that was his optimum firing range. Another line, this one flashing red and further from the enemy’s position, indicated where Jackson wanted to fire his missiles. The computer’s passive aggressive jabs at the perceived errors in his commands were a bit more tolerable than his old ship’s habit of simply not performing any action its computer deemed outside acceptable limits.

Now that the enemy had reacted to their presence, the tension on the bridge was palpable, even with contact hours away. The crew of the
Ares
was one of the most battle hardened groups in the Fleet, but there was still no way to ever be comfortable or complacent when barreling toward an engagement with this terrifying enemy. Three and a half tense hours passed slowly until they were nearly in range.

“Hornets away,” Barrett reported. “All twelve birds are away clean and tracking true.”

The icons representing the missiles split up into two groups, deciding between them which target each would pursue and accelerating toward the Bravos that still looked like they wanted to flank the
Ares
and catch her in a crossfire.

“Helm, all ahead full,” Jackson said calmly. “Maintain course.”

“Ahead full, aye. No course deviation.”

The reaction was almost immediate. As the
Ares
shot between the two groups of Bravos, they decelerated quickly, turning hard to come about and pursue the destroyer after the unexpected maneuver. They also slowed and actually flew back directly into the paths of the incoming Hornets. The missiles slammed into their designated targets, the hardened nose cones punching into the organic armor of the Bravos before detonating. Unlike the Alpha Jackson had battled before, the Bravos didn’t seem to have the ability to heal after taking heavy damage. The warhead from a single missile was enough kill or disable it.

“Ten for ten!” Barrett whooped. “Sending the self-destruct signal to the remaining two Hornets.”

That had been easy. Maybe too easy. “Still no new contacts?”

“None we can see,” Barrett confirmed. “High-power scans have been active since entering the system.”

“Very well,” Jackson said. “Helm, all engines zero thrust. We’ll just coast the rest of the way to Xi’an without lighting up the sky. OPS, are the pieces of the
Dao
going to miss the planet?”

“Engines answering zero-thrust.”

“Standby, sir.” Lieutenant Davis calculated possible trajectories from where the Bravos had abandoned the four enormous pieces of the destroyed battleship. “Affirmative. They’ll be turned in by the planet’s gravity but should continue on past it. We’ll overtake the prow section before it crosses Xi’an’s orbit.”

“Identify each of the four pieces and report back to me which sections of the ship are still intact,” Jackson ordered. “I need the information before we start braking for orbital insertion.”

“Yes, sir.” Davis turned back to her station and took control of the tactical sensor array.

“It seems odd that they would try an assault with only ten Bravos,” Celesta said as the post-battle excitement settled down.

“I think they may have been sent as a distraction,” Jackson said. “There was no logical reason for them to abandon their prize when they could have easily gotten the
Dao
pieces to Xi’an before we could have closed the range to stop them.”

“But to what end? Deorbit them?” she asked. “As far as we know, they haven’t reestablished their operation on the surface since the CIS Prowlers nuked the slicks from orbit.”

Jackson shuddered at the mention of the Phage “slicks,” enormous tracts of a viscous substance that was essentially digested material, organic and inorganic, that they used to build their ships. During his only encounter with one, he watched it eat one of his crewmen.

“And between the nuclear fallout, the debris cloud, and the atmospheric damage the Phage did, we can’t get a clear picture of the ground,” he reminded her. “Either way, Commander, we’ll need to get over Xi’an and ascertain exactly what they were so interested in that they would risk an engagement with thirteen Fleet ships.”

“Of course, Captain.” She nodded.

Jackson could tell she wanted to argue for a quick flyby of the planet and a fast flight back out to their jump point, but she had worked with him long enough to know when he wasn’t open to debate.

“Xi’an orbital insertion in three hours,” the chief now manning the nav station called out. “Braking maneuvers in two.”

“Confirmed, Nav,” Jackson said. “Helm, you’re clear to execute course and speed corrections from Nav.”

“Aye, sir.”

“You have the bridge, Commander,” Jackson said, standing up. “I’m going to grab a couple hours in my office before we begin decel.”

“Yes, sir.” Celesta transferred her terminal over to the command chair and sat in the vacated seat almost before he could get out of the way.

While it was a great comfort to have an XO who was maturing rapidly and showed all the necessary aptitude for command, Jackson often wondered if she regretted her decision not to take a ship of her own when it was offered.

Chapter 2

“Captain Wolfe! Report to the bridge immediately!” The harsh call over the intercom was immediately followed by a klaxon calling everyone to general quarters and the subtle but distinct rumble of the engines coming back up from idle.

Jackson rolled off the small couch in his office and sprinted back to the bridge through the open hatch, his prosthetic leg whining in protest. It was only about a twenty meter run, but before he could make it, the
Ares
bucked under the unmistakable impact of enemy fire.

“Report!” he yelled as he ran onto the bridge.

“Indirect plasma fire coming from the surface!” Lieutenant Davis said. “We were clipped by the last one, but I don’t believe we’re being specifically targeted. No significant damage reported.”

“She’s right,” Celesta said, looking at her display. “It looks like they’re shooting up out of the atmosphere indiscriminately. I can’t tell if they even know we’re here or not.”

“Can we penetrate that cover now that we’re closer?” Jackson asked.

“Negative, Captain,” Davis said. “There’s too much particulate matter suspended in the upper atmosphere. The long-wave thermal optics are useless, and radar is completely ineffective below thirty kilometers.”

“Understood.” Jackson took his seat. “I assume we’re accelerating off course to avoid our original orbital path since it was full of incoming?”