Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (78 page)

The sudden launch of enemy fighters sent what had been a seemingly easy milk run assignment into chaos fast. The Cutlass and freighter blew clear of Kiev, roaring past the lumbering freighter. All three ships split up on divergent vectors.

“Guns, label Kiev Tango three. The other two Tango one and two.”

“Aye aye, ma’am. We're not getting much of a read on Tango two, she's a Clydesdale, but we're getting a lot of plasma from her drive blocking us. I want to know how the hell they tucked nine fighters into Tango one?” She asked.

“Who knows. She just doesn't have the same shuttle compliment we do. Besides, she's big. Almost an LC? Is she a Light Cruiser?” the Captain asked. She turned to look at Leo.

“We're getting mass readings from each ship skipper. Tango one is a destroyer of some sort. Class has been tentatively identified by silhouette as a Cutlass class,” Leo reported, voice tense but professional.

Renee sat back with a frown as she pondered the Cutlass on her HUD. The image spun as its capabilities were shown. She was an ancient warhorse, massive, almost a cruiser in size. She had a big midships boat bay and heavy engines and armor. She was a turtle though.

“Captain, the scout fighters are being chased back to us. The enemy fighters may be forming up for an anti-shipping strike,” the JTO warned, her voice rising in excitement.

“I doubt it,” the sensory officer said. “I'm not getting enough mass readings on the fighters for something like that. If they are carrying missiles they are short ranged, definitely no torpedoes. They are also moving too fast to be carrying a full load.”

“An anti-fighter mission to keep our people at bay,” the XO said with a nod. “Most likely while the big boys escape.”

Renee scowled. She hated leaving people, but she had no choice. Her finger stabbed down on the com channel to the boat bay. “Launch the alert fighters. Send in the defensive fighter to back up the remaining scout.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“The ships though. We can't catch all of them,” Commander Dart warned.

“I intend to try anyway. Launch remaining fighters on the two freighters. Orders are to disable them only. Repeat, disable. They are probably hostages.”

“Aye, Captain. What about the enemy fighters?”

“The two we've got left will have their hands full. Launch a defense drone and see if we can lend them a hand.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Firefly went after the destroyer. The enemy fighters broke up into three flights, three tangling with the two navy fighters while two groups of three went after the navy fighters that were chasing the freighters. Soon a fighter furball erupted in the battle space, a chaos of ships bobbing, weaving, and climbing all in a rough cylinder as the Horathian ships creeped ever closer to the jump point.

The Cutlass launched missiles. “Captain, they are firing on the ship and planet. We don't have anything in position to intercept!”

“Damn it,” Mayweather growled, eyes flashing. Hitting the helpless. Typical pirates. “Launch missiles! Target the enemy missiles!”

“It...we can try with capital missiles Skipper, but it will be tough,” Purple Thorn warned.

“Send a double spread. Fire as soon as you get a resolution.”

“Missiles away,” the elf reported. “We're not going to get them all, ma'am. Stern chase,” Purple Thorn warned. “Our missiles have only a slight edge in speed, but they've got a head start.”

Renee nodded curtly. “Targets?”

“CIC update ma'am, three missiles headed to Kiev, two for the planet... we're also getting scatter, a lot of mass readings headed in a broad cone. Kinetic strike inbound on us and the planet!” A rating said from the overhead.

“Helm, get us out of the cone of fire. Guns hit those missiles with whatever you've got! Communications, raise the planet and warn them!”

---(<=>)---

Captain Chambers saw the explosions of fire, like blinding white puffballs but knew it wouldn't be enough to save his ship. No, he saw the traces of incoming missiles and bowed his head, eyes closed. He sighed, all life seemingly leaving him. There was nothing he could do, he was locked in his cabin and chained to the wall. All he had was the one-way feed to the ship's sensors on his tablet. At least it would soon be over for him and his tortured crew. Those that had survived this long.

His lovely wife, Cora, and most of the bridge crew were dead. They had spent months under the hands of the bastard Horathians, being used as slave labor or tortured for their sick amusement. The bastards had taken vicious pleasure in torturing nonhumans like Bert, and making the others watch.

The Captain had been kept alive out of some form of twisted bond with his captor, Captain Opal. Opal had thought of himself as sophisticated and cultured; the paintings and draperies Cora had collected in their quarters had apparently kindled an interest in Chambers. He'd dined with Chambers several times over the past several months, and they had played chess almost weekly. The man was brilliant, but his cold eyes told Chambers he was also ruthless and without pity. What he had allowed his pirates to do to Kiev's crew had proven that. The missiles were just his way of yanking a yearning hope of freedom from them. At least in a way, they would finally be free of them, Chambers thought.

“Well baby, at least you’re safe in Antigua. Live large kiddo,” he murmured to Toni as the missiles struck. There was a brief flash and then a sense of peace. He knew nothing more after that.

---(<=>)---

The helpless Kiev 221 was hammered by the three missiles fired on her. The cunning act of betrayal was shocking and ruthless. What surprised Mayweather was that anything of the ship survived at all. Her tactical department had fired dozens of missiles into the swarm of kinetic weapons with the intent of vaporizing or knocking as many off course as possible. The nuclear fireballs blotted out their sensors and unfortunately all their communications to the planet.

What also bothered her was that they'd just fired nearly half their missiles. If this engagement continued as it was going she'd shoot herself dry in no time. All to swat a pissant tin can and an unarmed freighter.

“Kiev 221 is down; sensor reading shows her drive is dead. She's been holed in her habitat section as well. There is a cloud of debris around her,” Leo reported quietly.

“She's screaming for help,” Sharif added, voice tight with concern.

“One thing at a time,” the Captain muttered.

“Captain, we can dispatch shuttles to help them and run the other freighter down or help the planet,” Firefly suggested.

The Captain's eyes cut to the AI. She studied him and then nodded. “Make it so,” she said, eyes briefly looking to the ops officer.

“Aye, Captain,” the ops officer said.

“Keep at least one shuttle and a squad of Marines back for our own use.” the Captain ordered, voice firm.

“Aye, Captain.”

Firefly's crew watched helplessly as kinetic strikes headed to the inner system. Some were ten-meter long tungsten poles, no doubt they would hammer the towns and cities on the planet when they arrived in three agonizing days. Most of the kinetic strike was unguided but moving at point one C; they still would do tremendous damage to anything nearby.

The missiles split apart into sub-munitions, four warheads each. The warheads were nukes moving at close to point six C. Mayweather's face went white when she saw them go off in her mind's eye, bright flashes on the surface followed by a disturbing mushroom cloud. Sick dread twisted her gut. She closed her eyes, knowing what would follow, but entirely too helpless to prevent it. Then has to clutch at seat as the ship bucked, going past her limits in inertial dampeners. Her eyes flew open, and she bit her lip. She had to survive to help. To help and get revenge.

---(<=>)---

“We're coming back into extreme missile range now, ma'am,” the tactical officer said quietly but professionally.

“Thank you, Guns. I see it,” Renee said. “Prepare a spread of missiles. We'll test their defenses.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“I hope we get lucky. But I doubt it. This bastard is smart and vicious. He's not going down easy. With all those point defense turrets he's like Argus. He can swat missiles as they come in.”

“But he will go down in the end,” Ensign Drum vowed.

“Oh, definitely,” Renee echoed.

“Why. Why did they do it?” a soft voice asked, foggy with tears.

“They are pirates,” Firefly said quietly, looking at Sharif. The woman looked up, dashing tears.

“It still doesn't make sense, sir! Why? I mean, it's a waste of munitions! Besides, the people on the Kiev...”

“Undoubtedly, some were Horathians,” Renee replied. She frowned. “Though they could have abandoned ship in the initial engagement and programmed the ship to fly that course. Who knows?”

“We'll find out and get the bastards who did this.”

“Damn straight we will.”

“If we don't lose them. Space is big and dark, ma'am,” Sharif warned, and then bit her lip.

“In darkness, one needs to only turn on a light. It's fortunate we're a ship named for a light emitter right?” Renee asked, directing her question to the ship's AI.

“Light them up. Aye, Captain.”

“Sear them good!” Sharif snarled, fists clenched in rage.

“You heard the lady!”

Firefly fired a spread of missiles and then her grasers danced. The energy weapons were technically out of range, but the shots would force the ship into a box as it tried to maneuver out of the incoming weapons fire. With a bit of luck the ship would make a mistake that the missiles tiny computer minds could see and exploit.

---(<=>)---

The Cutlass used a primitive force drone to disable Firefly's missile spread. It was a one shot; when the device went off it exploded a few seconds later. “Damn! Didn't see that coming,” Stephanie said angrily, watching the missiles tumble end over end, crumpled and dead. Another two dozen missiles dead Renee thought.

“Funny how it's annoying when they do something right. You have to remember; the enemy wants to live and win as much as we do.”

“True,” the JTO said. “But they aren't going to. We're going to shove a missile far up their asses.”

“That's the spirit. Now get it done guns,” the Captain said.

“Too late, we're getting energy and mass readings now, Captain. She's charging her hyperdrive,” Leo reported. “Our missiles wont' get through the energy discharge now.”

“I know,” the Captain said, face working as she suppressed her rage into cold iron purpose. She quickly formulated a plan. She didn't like it; she knew the crew and the people outside would like it less, but she had no choice.

A few minutes later the Cutlass abandoned her fellows and jumped. “So much for honor,” the Captain said in disgust. The freighter was hit, but her fighters had been drawn off in the furball. The Horathian fighters were still fighting, despite being abandoned. One even tried to ram another fighter. She dodged it but their shields tangled, sending both tumbling off into the void. Renee breathed deep as the fighter's IFF flicked and then the fighter recovered. She mentally bet the pilot was a bit shook up but ready to get back into the mix to get even. At least she hoped so.

“Status of the other freighter?”

“She's charging her hyperdrive. She's moving at max safe jump velocity, dumping speed...now.” Leo said. “It looks like she's timed it well; she'll make the jump baring something happening.”

“Damn.”

They watched as two of the Horathian fighters attempted to recover by docking with the freighter. One was destroyed by a passing Navy fighter; the other was chased off, clearly damaged.

After a moment the freighter reached the jump point and jumped as well.

“Status report?”

“Two enemy fighters remaining, Captain. Both are headed for the planet,” Leo said. “One is damaged, I'm laying even odds she'll get there, and one in a hundred that she'll survive re-entry to land.”

“Okay.”

“Captain, permission to launch a refuel and recovery drone?” Firefly asked. “We have a lot of fighters and craft low on fuel.”

“Do it,” Renee said with a nod to the AI. “Dump a care package out too and kick it to the Kiev.”

“I thought you'd do that. Am I right on what you are planning?” Firefly asked.

“Depends on what you think I'm thinking. See in a minute,” the Captain said. A finger stabbed down on her communications button again.

“Report from the boarding party, Captain; most of the crew and passengers on Kiev are dead. One survivor found so far, wounded. She reported that the Cutlass has taken on some of their cargo the Admiral had them carry to make repairs or upgrades. They've been hostages for months,” Sharif interrupted before the Captain could say anything.

“Lovely.”

“Com, order our people to recover on Kiev or the planet. Senior officer in charge, tell them to render aid to Kiev and the planet as much as possible.”

“Captain, we're leaving them?” The XO asked in disbelief.

Renee nodded curtly. “Damn straight. I'm not letting the bastards get away and repeat this. We're faster. We'll catch them. Once they are dust we'll be back.”