Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) (33 page)

“They’re not going to make it,” Davis said.

The display showed two Alphas and eighteen Bravos that had broken off to pursue the seven Asianic Union ships. There was nothing Jackson could do. Any radio transmission he made would take over ninety minutes to reach them, and the data he was seeing was nearly as old already. For all he knew, the Third Fleet ships were already destroyed.

The outcome was all but inevitable as they watched the data trickle in. The Alphas ran through the formation, seeming to disable each ship before the Bravos swarmed in and finished them off. One by one, the Third Fleet warships winked out of existence on the tactical display. A few pixels switching colors to signify the loss of thousands of lives was vulgar, but it was the reality Jackson had chosen. All the ships in the star system were there at his request, and though they came willingly, the loss of so many weighed heavily on his soul.

“Coms, patch me through to the Fleet,” Jackson said. “This is Captain Wolfe aboard the
Ares
. We now have a large hole in our picket line with a Phage formation poised to exploit it. We’re outnumbered three to one and spread thin. It is imperative you hold the line.
Ares
out.

“Lieutenant Keller, tell Seventh Fleet Battlegroup Two I need them to move into a blocking position just beyond the orbit of the fifth planet, where that squadron just left a gap. I’ll send more help as I get it. Make sure the
Brooklands
holds back near Nuovo Patria.”

“Aye, sir.”

Jackson had carefully arrayed his limited resources in small formations flying concentric circles with Nuovo Patria as the epicenter. He made sure they were all maintaining their forward velocity since Terran ships didn’t have the ability to sit at a relative stop and then accelerate after the faster Phage ships. He hoped that by keeping everyone moving, they would be able to more quickly change course and pursue during individual skirmishes.

Of course, his plan hadn’t counted on the fact that no matter how brave the ship crews had been when they’d entered the system, there would be some who would bolt as they got their first real look at an enemy they’d been hearing about for years. After watching an entire squadron flee after first contact, he began to reevaluate what he would actually be able to bring to bear in this battle. The answers he came up with didn’t make him feel any better.

“Captain, we’re within range of the
Amsterdam
for two-way communication,” Barrett announced after a few more hours of easily keeping ahead of their pursuers.

“Lieutenant Davis, you have the bridge,” Jackson said. “Lieutenant Keller, send a signal to the
Amsterdam,
and inform them I’d like a private two-way channel with Admiral Marcum. Send it to my office, and do not hesitate to interrupt if something happens.”

“Aye, sir.”

****

“Captain Wolfe,” Marcum said neutrally once the channel had been established. “I assume this isn’t a social call, given we’re in the middle of a pitched battle.”

“I just wanted to make sure I had the chance to personally thank you for bringing those battleships, sir,” Jackson said carefully.

“You left me little choice.” Marcum shrugged. His neutral, almost cordial, demeanor was strange given their previous interaction. Marcum was certainly a politician first and a Fleet officer a distant second. “A com drone entered the Ark System, and before we could intercept it, the message had already begun broadcasting. It stirred the blood of some of my younger officers, and before I had a full-fledged mutiny on my hands, I asked my flag captain to draw up plans to provide support.”

“I see, sir,” Jackson said.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m going to bring you up on charges for that little stunt?” Marcum asked.

“Honestly, sir, I’m not sure I even expect to survive this battle,” Jackson said. “We’re quite badly outnumbered, and more are streaming in.”

“I see that,” Marcum said seriously. “Would you like some advice… and maybe a bit of a warning?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Use the
Dreadnought
-class ships as a quick-reaction force to shore up any holes that appear in your lines,” Marcum said. “It took me a minute to figure out what in the hell you were doing with your formations, but I can see that you’ve done an admirable job of maximizing your coverage and giving our ships a fighting chance by making sure engagements happen at speed. These battleships are very, very fast for as big as they are, so keep that in mind when deploying them.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson said. “And the warning?”

Marcum sighed. “I don’t want to be here. More specifically, I don’t want half the Fleet here making some idiotic last stand for a strategically insignificant planet.”

Jackson began to protest, but Marcum held up a hand to silence him.

“You’re a captain and, despite all previous indicators otherwise, a damn good one. But you’re sorely lacking in perspective when it comes to the big picture. Part of the deal I made with my captains for showing up here is that on my order, we’ll break and head for a jump point if this battle looks lost. I will not risk losing our most advanced starships in a symbolic defeat that won’t save the people of Nuovo Patria either way, and when I say our most advanced I mean
all
of our newest generation starships currently here.”

“You’ll order the Ninth Squadron out of the area?” Jackson asked, somewhat surprised.

Before he could tell the Admiral that he had no intention of complying with such an order, Marcum cut him off. “I will do what I feel I must, Captain. Marcum out.”

Jackson wanted to punch his terminal when Marcum’s face disappeared from it. Having the six battlewagons in the area of operations had been a huge morale booster and an ace in the hole. Now he was being told they’d more or less flown in as a show of force and that Marcum had no intention of allowing him to utilize the ships to their full potential, despite his grandiose announcement when they’d transitioned in.

“As if this wasn’t a big enough pile of shit to begin with.” He sighed, logging out of his terminal and getting up a slight groan.

He’d had very little sleep, hadn’t had a proper meal in the last two weeks, and his prosthetic seemed to be acting up at odd times. What made him feel very, very tired was the realization that the battle for Nuovo Patria had barely started.

When he returned to the bridge, he saw that things had begun to heat up along all fronts, as the Phage spread out from their three-point incursion and began testing the Terran fleet’s resolve. Even though the humans were greatly outnumbered, a lot of that was due to all the Bravos flying around the system. While they were formidable in groups, a single Bravo wasn’t much of a match for even their oldest frigate.

Jackson watched the tactical board for a moment before coming to the obvious conclusion that he was unable to manage the battle on the far side of the system due to the delay.

“OPS, group our forces into three sectors, and then give me the listings on my terminal.” Heslid into his chair.

“Aye, sir.” Davis pulled up a new menu to quickly comply.

“Tactical, what are our friends behind us doing?”

“The four Alphas are beginning to close the gap, sir,” Barrett said. “The Bravos split off ten minutes ago. I’m tracking them through the grav sensors. I think the Alphas are just going to herd us back to where the rest of the fleet is operating.”

“Agreed.” Jackson looked over the lists Davis had sent to his terminal. As he’d hoped, the fleet was still well distributed around the planet.

“Coms, I’m sending you three lists marked sectors one, two, and three. We are sector one. Inform Captain Forrest aboard the
Artemis
that she is in command of sector two, and tell Captain Koon aboard the
Myeong-ye
that he is in command of sector three. Make it a general order on the command channel, so that the other COs aren’t confused by the switch.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Make sure Forrest and Koon understand they’re still reporting to me and that my orders still stand,” Jackson said. “I don’t want any freelancing out there.”

“Understood, sir,” Keller said.

“Captain, the four Alphas pursuing us are breaking off,” Barrett said, obviously confused.

“Breaking off to where?” He stood and took a few steps towards the main display.

“Unknown, sir,” Barrett said. “We’re still far enough away from the main battle that they could be heading anywhere.”

“Is there someplace where Phage forces have taken a particularly hard beating?”

“Yes, sir,” Davis spoke up. “Battlegroup Two has taken out three Alphas and over thirty Bravos near the sixth planet in sector two.”

“Black Fleet!” Master Chief Green shouted, pumping his fist.

Jackson couldn’t help himself and smiled at the chief’s enthusiasm.

“Coms, tell Senior Captain Fergus that he’s doing an outstanding job,” Jackson said. “Then warn him that four more Alphas are probably heading his way.”

“Captain Fergus asked me to tell you, and I’m quoting, ‘We’re taking all comers. Tell the Wolfe that any fucking Phage that comes into my skies gets turned to slag,’“ Keller said after a moment.

“He seems like a… colorful… individual,” Davis said.

“That’s an understatement, Lieutenant.” Jackson remembeed the times he’d met the over-the-top, bombastic captain from the New European Commonwealth. The small smile died on his lips as he realized that Fergus, and all his crew, may die in this system following him into battle.

As the battle began really heating up, and both sides began racking up losses, Jackson tried to remain focused on the big picture. The
Ares
was still roaring down into the system with the
Icarus
following closely behind, but they were more or less alone in their area of responsibility.

The battle was roughly a constricting sphere that would eventually shrink down to be fought over the skies of Nuovo Patria, and there were ships constantly streaming through sector one, but the two destroyers were neither being pursued nor had any targets to pursue themselves. Why? Could the Phage actually recognize the
Ares
and know that it was a ship that had already taken out a few Alphas singlehandedly? The strangeness of two ships flying alone, unprotected, and being left unmolested was too much for Jackson to dismiss as happenstance.

“Coms, send a fleet-wide message that randomization protocols are still in place, even for stricken vessels exiting the area.”

Two more Eighth Fleet ships limped away from their respective engagements. This time, it looked like the Phage had no interest in running down the wounded and were concentrating their forces on the formations putting up the biggest fight. Oddly enough, this left the newer battleships barely straining to pick off the occasional attack by an Alpha or group of Bravos while the two Black Fleet battlegroups were fighting for their lives and had lost three ships already between them.

“Also, message the
Amsterdam
and get them moving over to cover Battlegroup One so they can withdraw that heavy cruiser with the damaged engine.”

“Aye, sir.” Keller’s voice was beginning to leave him after ten hours of near constant talking into his headset.

Jackson still felt like he was being toyed with. The Phage were executing fast, flanking attacks on the perimeter that forced the Terran ships to break orbit to pursue or pull back in toward Nuovo Patria so they could remain in range of the other ships nearby. The result was a continual, and alarmingly fast, shrinking of the picket lines Jackson had tried to set up. Most ships would retreat inward under full power after brief exchanges of fire and now, less than twenty-four hours in, it looked like they’d be within striking range of the planet long before he’d hoped.

“Captain, there are two Alphas that made it through Eighth Fleet’s picket line and are heading straight for the planet,” Barrett said. “They’re accelerating too fast for the Alliance ships to pursue.” Jackson looked at the plots on the tactical board for a few long seconds before replying.

“Coms, tell the Eighth Fleet ships to hold their position and to
stop
giving ground,” he said. “Tell them we’ll deal with the two ships that broke through.”

“Aye, sir.”

“OPS, get ready to—”

“Two more Alphas peeling off the formation at the edge of our sector, Captain,” Barrett said. “They’re coming right at us.”

Jackson rubbed his eyes and tried to think. This wasn’t a coincidence. The Phage knew the
Ares
and the
Icarus
were basically bystanders so far by virtue of being positioned so far away from the main body of the battle. So they rush a pair of ships to the planet and two more at him to try and force a decision. Will he turn and defend himself, or will he continue on to defend the planet?

“Coms, tell Commander Wright she’s clear to break away from the formation and engage the two targets approaching us out of sector three,” Jackson said. “She’s free to use anything at her disposal to keep them at bay. Nav, give me an intercept course for the two Alphas approaching the planet.”

“Course ready, Captain,” Accari said.

“That was fast, Specialist.” “I’ve had multiple courses being updated simultaneously,” Accari said. “One of them was in anticipation that we’d need to break hard for Nuovo Patria.”

Jackson nodded his appreciation for the forethought, tremendously impressed with the young spacer’s instincts.

“Helm, all ahead flank,” Jackson ordered.

“Ahead flank, aye!” the helmsman said, sounding happy to be doing something other than cold coasting down into the system. “Helm answering new course.”

“Tactical, begin calculating when we’ll have to start braking compared to when those two Alphas will reach orbit,” Jackson said. “I want to know how much speed we need to put on or, more specifically, how much we
can
put on before we’ll be unable to slow down enough for a high orbit.”

“Yes, sir,” Barrett said.

The rumble of the engines and hiss of the air handlers was the only sound on the bridge for several minutes as his crew worked furiously to get the ship ready for her first taste of combat since the battle had started. It was a strange change of pace to be in command of the overall battle and not actually have his ship right in the thick of things. Unfortunately, if he was being honest with himself, he’d taken the bait the Phage had dangled in front of him, and in the process, taken himself out of the fight. In hindsight, he should have been more patient or sent two other ships to escort the
Brooklands
.