Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (68 page)

He also saw that the BCs had drawn him out of position to intercept them. He was over 6.7 light minutes, just a hair over 122 million kilometers out from Fourth Fleet. The surviving ships were already limping for deep space at their best speed, and his fighters were committed to the battle cruisers.

Mentally he sent a salute to the enemy commanders. They'd played their roles to perfection. “Well played he murmured. “But I'll be there when I checkmate your ass,” he growled, eyes flashing.

“Sir, the frigates have intercepted all of the rail gun rounds, but they are going to miss some of the missiles. The OWPs … the odds aren't good,” Jojo warned, looking at him soberly.

“It just gets better and better. Get them to evacuate.”

“Captain C'lax already put the call in. He's trying to calculate the zones now. The missiles are too far out now though.”

“I know. Keep me posted,” the admiral growled.

“Sir, the BCs are charging their hyperdrives,” CIC reported.

“Of course they are,” Garfield growled in disgust. “They know we can't chase them for much longer.”

“Order the tin cans to go after Fourth Fleet at flank speed. Launch a missile spread when they get into extreme range. I want them to give them a send-off if nothing else. We're going in on the BCs and we're, damn it, going to do the same. Flank speed as well. If they are charging their hyperdrives, that means they can't maneuver radically without screwing up their plotting points. Maybe we can give them a send-off too.”

“Aye, sir.”

“It's all we can do. That and watch helplessly as another planet burns,” Jojo murmured softly. Amadeus winced but said nothing. The feelings of the Xeno war, the helplessness came flooding back at him all at once. He clenched his hands until he felt his nails draw blood. Slowly he released them.

---<>))))

“We made it, but we're hurt, sir,” Captain Bordou said, sweating heavily. She ran a hand over her face then turned a glower on the engineering rating trying to get a handle on the damage. Conduits had burst all over her ship. She knew if it was this bad on
Apache
, the other ships were fairing even worse. She privately doubted many would survive the next jump, if any at all. She had serious doubts her own ship would.

“The heat exchanges are overloaded, ma’am. We need time to get them sorted out,” a harried rating said, tearing into a conduit.

“You've got a minute. If I pass out from heat exhaustion, you better hope the XO shoots you out an airlock before I wake up,” she growled, fanning herself with her tablet.

“I'm doing what I can, ma’am,” the rating said desperately, yanking wires and plugging leads in.

“Do it faster,” she growled, turning away. She knew better than to pressure him into making a stupid mistake but couldn't help it. Her temper was beyond frayed by the tension of the situation. She had to take it out on someone, and he was a handy candidate to vent her ire and fear on.

“The tenders are done, sir.
Lingchi
reports she
might
be able to make one more jump. The same for the tin cans. We can strip their crews off … I think we have time for that,” Rick said, eying the admiral.

“No. We've got the range. Use it. Move us into deep space. Get engineering onto the repairs. I want a damage assessment of all ships. If they can't jump, we'll scuttle them.”

“And their crews, sir?” Rick asked. He caught the captain looking their way.

“If our life support is already this overloaded, there is no way we can take them on. They are on their own,” the admiral growled. The chief of staff stared at him, clearly aghast at what amounted to killing their own people. “They've got plenty of incentive to get the job done now, don't they?” he asked.

Slowly his chief of staff nodded.

“Let them know we're setting their scuttling charges. If they want to live, they'd damn well better get back into hyper,” he growled.

“Aye, sir.”

---<>))))

Amadeus split his force to get some shots through in the hopes of stalling them or forcing them to jump drastically early and perhaps fatally. Seeing three of the ships down helped somewhat, but not much. The cruisers and the CEV had entered hyper successfully. One of the
Arboth
class destroyers attempted it but failed and broke up. When the last destroyer went dead and then ripped apart in an eye-searing explosion of self-immolation, no one felt like cheering. They watched helplessly as the enemy ships jumped just before the missiles entered their final engagement window.

A moment later the last of the tenders reappeared in real space a million kilometers apart and a light minute away from the missiles. They floated, drives dead. But the cruisers didn't make a reappearance.

Their bad luck continued to hold as their attention turned to the survivors left behind as well as the missiles headed to the planet. Instead of targeting land targets, the missiles had been set to go off in the oceans. Eight were intercepted by the OWPs. Two were also intercepted by the wall of metal and ceramic thrown in front of them, but they were not knocked off course. They were turned into bright balls of plasma just short of the planet. They made particularly spectacular fireworks in the night air. The plasma ripped at any radio transmissions and caused an EMP that shorted out electronics for kilometers around.

The remainder two missiles hammered into the ocean water. Their speed was their weapon, they brought with them forces enough to trigger earthquakes.

And with them, tsunami.

Massive waves of water wracked the coastlines of the major continent, sweeping everything in their path aside like a malevolent broom.

And there was nothing at all that the Federation Navy could do to stop it except wait and pray that people got out of the way in time.

Praying was small comfort to anyone who attempted the exercise while watching the devastation unfold however.

Chapter
37

Ghost witnessed the mad scramble on the air ship docks to get people out. The din of the klaxons overrode the screams of terror and fear from the people trying frantically to get out. If she wasn't so terrified, her sensitive ears would have given her a migraine from the din. Or driven her deaf, she thought as she danced on all fours through the crowds. Her small feline size allowed her to duck between people with ease. Occasionally she'd walk on her hind legs to slip between someone or to make someone realize she wasn't a pet. Once she was past, she dropped to all fours again to allow herself to move faster. She weaved herself in and out and managed to jump the gap to board the last airship just as the crew cast off their moorings and got underway.

She immediately climbed the rigging to get away from the trampling feet of the frightened humans.

She looked down from the blimp to see people evacuating on steam- and wind-powered water ships. Even small dinghies overloaded were headed out. Hundreds were left on the docks screaming for someone to save them. She closed her eyes and averted her gaze at that but knew it would haunt her terribly.

When she did open her blue eyes, she saw another vision. The few air cars, helicopters, and air vans on the planet in the area darted in and out of the air lanes recklessly, all in an attempt at moving people as best they could to high ground inland. She saw one human fall off a roof of an air car to his death before she turned away. Even the military was on board she noted. The Marine aircraft were there, overloaded and barely moving above the buildings and tree line to get as many to safety as they could.

When she looked down she saw that the ground roads were saturated with vehicles and people on foot. When the waves came, the Neo feline sucked in a breath in horror. Her cousins, her mother Mamacita … dozens were down there in that mess. She'd been lucky, working the docks when the alert went out. Hopefully they too got out, though she doubted it. Mama would most likely have gone to ground instead of running.

She saw the devastation, the crashing waves and imagined the screams. She turned away, burying her head in shame as tears flowed. She wished her elder sisters Lil White and Lil Red, her mother, anyone else was there to comfort her. But no one was around, her sisters had left the planet months ago. She closed her eyes and did her best to rest and tune the whimpering of the other passengers out of her head.

---<>))))

Lieutenant Locke saw the devastation and couldn't stop swearing. The wolf teams were doing their best to help, but their gunships were ill suited for the mission. They all felt helpless. He knew Santini air was pulling out all the stops to help move as many people out as they could.

“Never enough,” he muttered, eying the waves as the first receded. “Never enough,” he said again. Sinjin and String looked over to him and then back to the new refugees.

“Come on. We've got to help,” Sinjin said roughly.

“How?” Jason asked, looking at the Hawke brothers.

“With our hands if that's all we've got,” String said, eying him coldly. “You comin’?”

“Yeah,” the intelligence officer said with a nod.

---<>))))

Admiral Irons heard of the devastation through the ansible. He stayed near to listen and offer what support he could as Turner did his best to get support equipment and survival gear moving. “This is turning into too much of a common occurrence,” Turner growled.

“Definitely,” the admiral replied, watching the aftermath and aware that the political fallout would be just as severe. The fact that they'd caught some of the bastards was cold comfort. Most were dead anyway.

---<>))))

The small ships couldn't help at all; they had no on board shuttles to get to the ground. The destroyers and larger ships however did have shuttles and volunteers but were out of position to help. DD Second Squadron headed out to the planet at their best speed. The CEV remained behind in case there were any late ships and to guard the derelicts the enemy had left behind.

The marines had other duties, however. They and prize crews were sent to board the enemy ships that had failed to jump and that had been left behind. They didn't find many survivors on the ships. They secured the ship carefully though. Each were powered-down dead sticks; some twisted and torn from their attempt to flee.

Once the ships were considered secured and the prisoners evacuated, intelligence teams were sent over to gather what material they could. While going through the freighter
Honey n Cream,
they found out about the drugs the Horathians had used on the water dwellers to keep them in line.

Two hours after the initial report, Amadeus called it in to Admiral Irons. He wasn't surprised that the admiral was available instantly. Most likely the man had been sitting next to the ansible he thought. If he felt helpless from light hours away, he could just imagine what John was feeling right about now he thought.

“Sick bastards,” Amadeus said when he finished reading the report. “The drugs kept them in line but screwed them up. So far we've found one survivor, and she's catatonic. The medics have put her in stasis. I'm thinking we'll have to ship her your way to get her properly sorted out.”

“Understood,” John replied. After a moment he continued. “Just as well none of the officers survived. We'd put them on trial, and I'm not sure we need the circus.”

“It's a way to shift blame, to let the public vent,” Amadeus replied. “They need to see it wasn't our fault. To be reminded of who is at fault and to show them and the enemy that there are consequences to what they do.”

“True. But you can only be executed once, and we have to do it humanely. But the really scary thought that nags at me … what if they got off? On a technicality? Anything? They were following orders, and the bastard who gave them got away. They could argue that. You and I both know it's been done. It makes me sick, but they deserve a fair court martial.”

Amadeus privately doubted they'd get off. No one would do that … would they? Suddenly he wasn't certain and that thought bothered him.

This was supposed to be a fresh start. A renewal of the social contract between the government and the people—a renewal of civilization. But the barbarians had gotten in despite their best efforts. They'd laid waste to worlds, one of them on his watch. That royally sucked he thought. He knew he was going to have several sleepless nights in his future.

“I admit, it's not good for the navy or our reputation in general. It's been tarnished, no ifs, ands, or buts about that. We've had a major setback. We now look like buffoons who can't get the job done.”

“No, we definitely didn't cover ourselves in glory there, sir,” Amadeus said wryly. “They slipped through my fingers. You know how and why.”

“No, no, we didn't, did we?” Admiral Irons shook his head. “I'm not looking for scapegoats, Amadeus, relax.”

The Neochimp nodded. He knew John, He knew the man wouldn't throw him to the wolves, but he'd been a bit fearful that they'd gone in that direction. He'd been caught up in the works, and it just sucked. “Unfortunately you get to carry the shitty load with the public ire. Lucky you,” Amadeus teased.

“Watch it,” Admiral Irons mock growled. “I just might sick them on you.
You
were the man on the spot after all,” he reminded the Neochimp.

“I know. I'm not looking forward to my next public interview let alone my ground side leave,” he said. “Or sleeping tonight or any night for a while,” he growled.

“I know. There is always sleep aids,” John replied.

Amadeus snorted. He was old school; he refused to take meds to sleep. “Perish the thought.” He paused when CIC put up an urgent message on his wall screen supplemented with an image of the star system plot. “Oh, oops! We've got late customers! One, no two ships just jumped in at the Kathy's World jump point!”

“Go get them then, Admiral,” Irons said.

“I intend to sick Z'll on them actually,” Amadeus replied. “The bug is pissed and will welcome them with open arms.”

“Good. Keep me posted,” Admiral Irons said. “Meanwhile, I've got a press release to go over and a speech to write for damage control. Give ‘em hell.”

“Will do.”

“Antigua out.”

---<>))))

Z'll clacked his mandibles in grim barely suppressed rage when he saw the pair of tenders.

“Sir, they are broadcasting a mayday. One is claiming there is a self-destruct on board that they can't shut off. The other reports their reactor has been scrammed to avoid the destruct.”

“In other words they aren't going anywhere, and they are squealing like stuck pigs,” a human rating said with a grim smile. “Perfect. I say we leave them to let them suffocate. Preferably slowly and with cameras rolling so the people of Protodon can see it.”

There were some mutterings from the crew, most of them in agreement. The captain listened until the XO interrupted. “As you were people,” she growled.

“We'll pick them up. Some might be wanted for crimes on Epsilon Triangula. But others might be slaves or hostages,” the captain said. “They don't deserve to be with the pirates any longer than they have to be.”

“Aye, sir,” the rating said in a subdued tone.

“Glad you agree. Now let's get it done,” the captain ordered.

“Oops, we've got ourselves a runner! The ship claiming her reactor is offline just popped her sublight drive off,” CIC reported. “Heading consistent with the B-95a3 jump point.”

“Apparently they don't like us very much. That's fine; we don't like them either. Let loose the wolves to run them to ground,” the captain ordered. The XO winced. The captain caught the human expression and swiveled his eye stalks in his direction. “What? Too much?”

“No, sir, just about right. Just … the wrong wording of the metaphor.”

“Whatever. It works. They get my meaning,” the captain said, turning to indicate the image of the carrier launch deck as the fighters roared off into the black void.

“Aye, sir, it does indeed.”

---<>))))

Once the star system was considered secure, a detachment of TF22s crossed the void at their best speed to get to the planet. The destroyers were filled with supplies, volunteers, and shuttles. Shuttles and supplies were even strapped to their exterior hulls.

One of those destroyers had caught a tender. The other two relatively intact tenders had been caught at the Kathy's World jump point. One had tried to run, but fighters had easily disabled her drive to leave her to drift until the marines could board.

When the intact ships were boarded, they found despondent and sullen Horathians and a surprising handful of surviving water dwellers. One had died from a drug overdose. Others had been beaten in the pirate's desperation to flee and were in sorry shape.

Inspection teams took control of the ship's computers and found the self-destruct virus Admiral Von Berk had left behind. By disconnecting the computers power, they narrowly stopped the ships from blowing up.

To Trajan's surprise, the inspectors had found that one water dweller had sabotaged the ship
Honey n Cream
. He made it a point of visiting the remarkable individual when things calmed down a week later. He smiled politely when the young man looked up his way.

“You are older human, but different from others who come to see me. Some look on with pity, others curiosity. You have both and neither,” the bandaged genie said from within the floating chamber.

“That's because I am. My name is Captain Vargess. I'm a sleeper, so I'm more familiar with different species,” Trajan said. He was in his day uniform; he wondered briefly if he should have come in formal attire to make more of an impression. “I'm sorry this was done to you and to your people, to your world. We're doing everything we can to make it right.”

“My thanks.”

“You were brave to have survived for so long. And to do what you did … that took incredible courage.”

“Brave? Hardly. I was tired, so tired of it. I couldn't take it anymore! And the thought of doing it for the rest of my life?” the water dweller blinked his eyes and then closed them in pain briefly. After a moment the large eyes reopened, one lid at a time until the black depths stared into his once more. His limbs and fins swished as he moved gently in the antigrav.

“Well, you don't have to,” Trajan said. “Not anymore. You're free.”

There was a touch of hope in the being’s expression, something that rocked Trajan to the core. “Thank you! Thank the spirits of space! But what about the others?” The hope was quickly turning to despair. He was aware that the medics had warned of intense mood swings due to the trauma and the drugs. Hopefully he wouldn't push the lad over the edge he thought.

“That we're unfortunately going to have to work on. But we're not giving up hope and nor should you.” Emory's fish like face fell. “We'll do what we can.”

“Thank you. How can I help? I mean, I want to go home but … my daughter, my mate ….” Thoughts of Anita and Sydney briefly flashed through his mind. Pain came with it, pain and anguish of not knowing.

“Well, if you want, we can sign you up with the navy. I'm afraid it's more of well … what you were doing, but you'll get training, good food, good water, and you won't be a slave.”