Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War (41 page)
Read Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War Online
Authors: Mason Elliott
Phantoms who owned the night
.
The black was their domain, their element
, and they surrendered it to no one.
Bravo Command
unleashed a torrent of concentrated, interlocking fire against the bunched up invaders. Veils of destroying fire, artillery, and ordnance–a deluge of precisely timed destruction that no living thing could possibly survive.
Within a matter of minutes, a quarter of a million Ejjai invaders flashed and flared into a
sweeping typhoon of white-hot death that overtook them.
Naero had done her job
.
Completely drained of all her mystic energies
for the moment, she could barely stand.
Even as she staggered
away, a full platoon of gigantic Sterodans in phaze armor appeared all around her.
They piled on and overwhelmed her with their greater mass
, and several shock charges that hit and rippled through both them and her. The shock charges rattled Naero’s teeth in her skull.
The Ejjai
and their mysterious masters still wanted her and the KDM alive and intact, apparently.
Naero grinned
.
Yet another trap
, and she had stumbled right into it.
This time
, the enemy thought they had her at last.
Yet Naero knew something they did not, and called
out into her own mind.
Om–you’re up.
They’ve got me.
Take these bastards down
hard and fast!
Call f
or Book Reviews
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About the Author
Mason Elliott grew up loving Science Fiction and Fantasy in all of their myriad forms. That love has transferred into his
dedicated writing. Like most writers he lives a spartan lifestyle and yearns to quit his day job, devote his life even more to his writing, and someday retire on the Pacific coast. So be a fan, buy his stuff and enjoy!
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First I would like to dedicate this book to my own Spacer Clan: my family. And as always, to the readers who have supported and believed in me for so long and on into the future. I will do my best to provide you with more great stories, for as long as I draw the breath of life
.
Once more, none of this would be possible without the tireless efforts of my fabulous editor, Jennifer Cummings, the publishing board, and publicist Josh Marten. Special thanks again to all of my Beta readers, especially Lois, Paul, Doyle, and Katherine. And eternally, constant thanks to my online writing group, my fellow toilers in the salt mines. I know we
will always back each other up
If you have not read the original Naero Books, Please enjoy the following teaser…and excerpt, from the first Spacer Clans Adventure, Book One:
NAERO’S
RUN
NAERO’S
RUN
by
Mason Elliott
“We’ve got more than enough to consider here,” Aunt Sleak said. “We’ll post our final decisions on the Spacer ClanNet. All crew, take a breather. We’re out of jump in less that two standard hours. Everyone on duty needs to be at their ready stations. Dismissed.”
Naero went back to her quarters to do some laundry and a little more reading before they emerged. With regular effort, her quarters were less of a disaster than usual. She’d kept her bunk and her floor more or less cleared off, and slept in her bunk regularly now, instead of on the floor or in zero-G or a float bag.
And definitely not in her flex chair, as she had for years because she either couldn’t get her bunk panel out or it was too piled up with crap.
Being small had its advantages. She could curl up like a cat and get comfortable almost anywhere for a snooze.
But keeping her quarters in better shape was a promise she made and kept–to herself–and her parents.
They emerged from jump with the customary shuddering of the ship. The fleet spread out into is standard formation, emerging back into real SpaceTime.
Naero punched up their positions on one of her screens, even though she didn’t have bridge duty for several hours.
The Shinai
flanked
The Dromon
on the port side, with
The Slipper
posted starboard. Their two smaller ships,
The Nevada
and
The Ardala
,
brought up the rear this time.
A red hot scarlet particle beam, 60mm in diameter, lanced through Naero’s walls like they were paper, disrupting her wallscreens.
A direct hit from a big gun.
At the very least, from a heavy destroyer.
Warning lights flashed immediately.
The rupture in the hull led to an immediate explosive decompression.
Naero held on tight to her bunk and went flat on the floor as the hull sealed itself.
All ships were vulnerable coming out of jump. They couldn’t activate their shields until right after they emerged.
Someone had been waiting for them.
The Dromon
continued getting rocked by multiple hits from what felt like several spinal guns and secondary batteries.
But the big planetoid could take it and give back plenty, her quad main guns humming and whining to life, coming online.
Naero hit her wristcom. All her screens down.
“Bridge. Status?”
“We stepped into it. They were waiting for us. We’re under heavy fire. Multiple bogeys.”
The general alert sounded.
“Battle Stations. Battle Stations.”
Aunt Sleak cut over the com. “All hands. All hands, to your stations. Prepare for battle. All ships, all batteries, return fire. Launch all fighters.”
Naero suited up and raced to the drop bay of her fighter. She met Jan along the way.
More intense fire.
Dromon
reeled and fired back.
She and Jan almost got rocked off their feet again.
A security team intercepted them at the launching bays.
Their fighters had already dropped with their backup pilots.
“The fleet captain wants you two at your secondary defense stations, not out in the mix.”
Jan started to protest.
“Orders are orders. Get to your stations.”
They ran to their remote gunnery stations, small secured cubicles with a chair and a console, operating triple pulse turrets on the hardpoints above them.
Naero brought up her autotargeting displays, weapons already powered up and humming.
The secondary battery gunnery stations operated independently and were well-protected. They were also fully automated, but they still functioned more effectively with a human interface.
Coordinated targeting profiles came online as she watched.
Jan operated a torp turret nearby.
Directly ahead of the fleet. Twelve elite Matayan destroyers, each with a dozen escort fighters.
Half of their number pursued and attacked a convoy of two dozen independent mining freighters.
Aunt Sleak’s fleet scrambled, launched, and deployed a total of threescore fighters in a standard Alpha-Charlie-1 defensive screen.
They were outnumbered two to one.
“All batteries make ready. Incoming torps,” the bridge com sounded.
Countermeasures took out half of the blips heading their way.
Spacer fighters and the forward defensive batteries blasted the rest.
“That attack’s a diversion,” Naero muttered.
Shinai’s
fire control and com computers fixed on and monitored all channels–including those between the hapless freighters and the corsairs.
“Mayday, mayday, we are under intense corsair attack. All ships. Assistance, assistance. Heavy damage and casualties.”
“What do you want?” another panic-stricken voice cried out. “We’ll surrender. You can board us. We have no goods and few supplies. Please, stop firing. Our ships are full of workers–full of people. You’re killing civilians. We’re on fire!”
Scanners displayed an awful, one-sided battle among the transports.
Most of the old bulk freighters didn’t even have weapons.
Each of the heavily armed Matayan destroyers was more than a match for them or most of the ships in Aunt Sleak’s fleet.
Except for the 6m quad spinal guns of
The Dromon
.
One crippled freighter broke apart and exploded under concentrated fire from three destroyers. It didn’t have any shields, and only minimal armor. Its two turrets either didn’t work or had been taken out already.
Static and Matayan battle language rang out in triumph.
Dromon’s
four primary guns cut loose, lighting up the entire sector. Its blue-white blasts ripped into the lead corsair flagship and its wingships, disrupting their shields.
The starboard wingship took two hits and listed to one side. Its aft section exploded.
“This is Captain Sleak Maeris of Clan Maeris. Enemy vessels, be advised: Cease hostilities and vacate this system or be destroyed.”
Matayan curses and laughter her only reply.
“Clan Maeris,” one of the freighter captains cut in. “This is Captain Philsen of
The Botaru
. Help us! Our situation is desperate. The corsairs are trying to destroy us. We don’t know why.”
“Acknowledged. We’re coming in. Disperse if you can. You’re still too bunched up. Scatter and concentrate on defensive actions. Jump if you’re able. We’ll try to draw them off. We’re boosting your distress call.”
Three more corsairs turned on the fleet, with all twelve dozen fighters full front on intercept.
The other trio of Matayan attackers kept after the freighters.
Naero heard the pleading and the screams on the open channel, just before another freighter got blasted to oblivion.
Naero realized she had tears on her face.
Was that how her parents went? Blasted to death by Matayan guns?
The rage she felt nearly overwhelmed her reason.
She checked her systems, gripped the controls of her gunnery station, and forced her emotions to go cold.
Against superior numbers, Naero and her Clan Fleet closed for battle.
