Jethro: First to Fight (73 page)

Neutron beams were different. Coupled
with force beams they were a powerful capital weapon, used for strategic ranges
beyond one hundred kilometers but limited to about a half a million kilometers.

The final hard damage system was the
graser. It was a powerful system, combining a Neutron particle beam with a
force gun and a plasma weapon all rolled into one package. Grasers were the top
beam weapons, they could not only hammer through a shield, but do massive
damage to the armor of the ship as well, all in one shot.

Microwave and Ion beams did soft damage
to a target, either by heating the target until a weak point failed, or addling
it's computers, jamming it's systems. Ion cannons disrupted electrical flow in
the system, cutting through shields and burning up electronics.

Some ships still mounted rail guns. The
linear catapults weren't beam weapons, they fired a kinetic payload at a
target.

Firefly had a mix of weapons, most of
them Graser and Ion beams. She mounted two microwave beams and of course a
healthy number of point defense lasers strategically placed all over her hull
for self defense. She couldn't fire all of them at once, not while keeping her
shields up and her drive running.

Spreading and jitter were always an
issue with a warship's energy weapons, which was why they ran constant tracking
system diagnostics and exercises during peace time.

Since no ship could keep a beam going to
do a slicing action for more than a millisecond they relied on capacitors. A
capacitor bank was arranged near each energy weapon. It would draw a charge
from the ship's power net and then release it in one massive energy burst
through the energy weapon to provide the amount of energy and density at a fast
rate of delivery.

But it took time to charge the
capacitors, and the larger the weapon the longer it took to charge her
capacitors. Unless of course you had a lot of power in reserve. Which, a
cruiser had when you compared it to smaller ships like destroyers, frigates,
and corvettes.

“Aye aye Captain.”

“Essentially Bushwhacker three, with a
little four in it for luck,” Purple Thorn teased.

“Right. And execute!”

They had let the pirates chase the drone
like cats stalking an unsuspecting mouse. But it was the cats that were the
prey. Firefly lit off her drive when they hit 1.4 million kilometers out. She
swooped up like a hungry shark, her shields, ECM, and weapons coming online
moments after her drive went to full power.

She fired a tidal wave of missiles from
both broadsides and her bow, at such a short range they went into sprint mode,
not even bothering with evasive maneuvers.

Their own ECM and chaff pods went to
rapid fire. It gave the surprised pirates a massive 'here I am' sign, but it
also threw their plot into chaos.

In less than two minutes the thirty
missiles had crossed the one million kilometer distance and had slammed into
the tin can before her shields were fully up. They hammered the Sirius into
wreckage, breaking the ship into two pieces.

Firefly had unmasked and the fight was
on with the smaller ships. She was already arching up over the wreckage of the
tin can, corkscrewing and firing every turret on any target they could find.

“Let em know where here,” Mayweather
said. She gave Firefly's avatar a long look. “See what you can do there too
Commander.”

Firefly nodded and disappeared.

“Once they get our IFF, jam all
communication channels they are using,” the Captain ordered. “Don't let their
fleet know what's going on.”

“A bit brash aren't we?” Janice asked as
the comm officer keyed their IFF. The communications officer looked up in
confusion, a lot more went out than the basic IFF.

“Just putting the fear of us in them.”

Jane studied the read out. “They don't
strike me as scared Captain,” she said doubtfully.

“Oh they will be,” Purple Thorn
retorted.

“They are scared, they're running
Captain,” the sensor officer reported.

“See?”

“Hello, we're bigger than them? We out
mass the frigates by what? Ten to one our favor?”

“True.”

“They have numbers...”

“Quantity has a quality all on its own
Captain,” the sensor officer said, clacking his mandibles at her. “Remember
what we witnessed on Agnosta? I watched a pack of wolves take down a moose.
Quite impressive. The moose weighed in over a ton, had massive antlers, and yet
the pack brought it down.”

“It misstepped. We won't.”

“Mistakes happen.”

“There had better not be any mistakes.
Get it right the first time people!”

“Here they come!”

“Anything?” Mayweather demanded. The AI
returned. Silently he shook his head. “Well then, we do this the old fashioned
way. Guns, it's on you.”

...*...*...*...*...

Firefly had a stiff fight ahead, with
multiple ships against one. After they announced their presence with a 'bang'
they corkscrewed through the stunned formation, picking off smaller ships
before they arched back in.

The three frigates recovered first,
moving together as one. The corvettes followed suit. Two of the gunships had
been destroyed by Firefly's main guns, another two were tumbling wrecks, with
their main engines torn apart.

The Captain brought the ship around and
then matched the tin can's old course and speed. They used the wreckage of the
first tin can as cover, turning on her side bow on to the ship and using drones
and decoys to look out over her improvised screen like periscopes.

The Elf tactical officer fired a
broadside from both flanks, one of decoy and ECM missiles the second of real
missiles. As the enemy fired into the wreckage of their own ship Mayweather
abandoned it, firing a decoy up to draw the initial fire as her ship yawed to
the port and dropped low.

Firefly was a dancer, pitching,
spinning, and working her way through the enemy fleet. Her turrets spun and
fired, cutting down enemy ships or over heating shields to allow missiles or
other beam weapons through, or cutting down the small amount of counter
missiles the pirates counter fired.

While they were doing that the four
remaining fighters launched. They scissored in, distracting the enemy while
another war, a cyber war, raged on.

“Sir!” Captain Maul said, pounding on
the door to his old quarters. He heard soft sounds then a snarl. If it was
anything less important he would have left it for later, but this couldn't
wait.

“What!” the admiral snarled, yanking the
hatch open. He was naked, trying to belt a robe on that was obviously not his.
Captain Maul looked away from the admiral's flag pole as his boss got himself
covered. He could see a pair of naked legs hanging over the side of the bed.
There was a red hand print on one bare flank.

The admiral grunted in irritation and
the Captain flushed, looking away into the companionway.

“Master, come back to bed,” a silky
feminine voice pouted. The Captain caught sight of a quirt the admiral had in
his hand. The admiral tossed it behind him.

“Sir, sorry, but Sirius has been
destroyed.”

The admiral's red face swelled even
further then paled as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on it. “What did
you just say?” he demanded quietly.

“Sir, Sirius and her group were
ambushed. Something hit them, we're not sure about the details. We were in
contact with them per your orders when something started jamming. My tactical
officer thought it was a malfunction at first, but when we didn't get a reply
he ran a sensor sweep. That's when CIC reported Sirius and the other ships had
gone dark and well, this...” he held up a tablet.

The admiral snatched it out of his
hands. He stared at it blearily. Blood was still collected in the wrong head,
but it was slowly being released. He frowned. “What am I... shit,” he said,
recognizing the infrared overlay of a broken ship. “Damn it to hell, what
happened?”

“I'm not sure sir, but we picked up a
flash of a larger ship and shuttles in the area. CIC reported a drive
consistent with a cruiser. The prey has gone dark as well.”

“That Pyrax ship? But it's too soon! And
they came from Triang right? Not B452A! What the hell is going on??” The
admiral demanded.

“I think we have to assume it's here
sir.”

“And you say it's gone?”

“It's back under stealth. Or at least
gone dark.”

“So it might be dead?” the admiral asked
hopefully.

“We can't assume that. I'm not sure
what's going on.”

“Then find out!” the admiral fumed,
thrusting the tablet back into his hands with excessive force. “Do that now!
Send a recon drone. Send two of them! Hell send ten for all I care! But get me
some damn information!”

“Yes sir!” the Captain said, stepping
back.

The admiral scowled then stepped back
through the hatch. “I'll be on the bridge in ten.” He heard a growl behind him.
He looked over his shoulder for a long moment. “Make that twenty.”

“Yes sir,” the Captain said dutifully.
Technically it was up to the admiral, he really didn't need him holding his
hand or worse, looking over his shoulder and trying to find some way of pinning
it on a certain Captain.

“Get what you can. Get the drones going.
Get the a sitrep on the fleet and station.”

“I'll get it done sir,” the Captain
replied, nodding.

“You do that,” the admiral growled. He
turned, slowly closing the door. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get my
mad out.”

The hatch clanged shut just as the
Captain heard a giggle then a slap and squeal. He shook his head, about faced,
and headed back to the bridge. Unlike some people he had real work to do.

...*...*...*...*...

When the brief battle was over only a
slightly wounded, but triumphant Firefly remained. The Captain ordered the
drive dropped to standby mode, there was no sense giving the enemy a clearer
sight of it. If they were lucky it had been overlooked. Not that she was going
to count on that.

They licked their wounds, treated their
casualties, and recovered the fighters. A SAR shuttle was dispatched. It picked
up the three drifting life pods and pirates who went EVA. Another shuttle
boarded the wrecks and picked a few more personnel off. The pathetic pirates
plucked off the air bleeding wrecks were grateful for any reprieve. The
Dutchman had been pretty shook up, each dropped to their knees and clutched at
their savior's sobbing, or in two cases, went stark raving nuts and had to be
sedated. One guy had curled into a fetal ball while in space, once recovered he
refused to move from that position.

Once they were in a group they clammed
up however. There were sixty seven pirates recovered, all but one were male.
Nine were in sickbay under guard and heavy sedation.

The Horathians filled the ship's brig.
The Marines who had been housed there had been kicked out to the boat bays.
They would just have to deal with it, they wouldn't be on the ship much longer.

“One big happy family,” the Captain
said, checking the camera feed of the main boat bay. It was a sea of Marine
green.

“Yeah. And there is going to be a lot of
empty bunks soon,” Shelby said softly. She'd seen a pair of lovers climb into a
closet to get it on, only to be kicked out by a troop of elves living inside.
She felt sorry for them, they had no place to go and little time before combat.

“Are we ready?” Captain Mayweather
asked, adjusting her uniform.

“It looks that way Captain. All shuttles
have been recovered. All personnel accounted for. We've got two dead when that
buss blew, ten wounded, most of them Marines. Missiles are down to two hundred
forty.”

“So magazines are three quarters full.
And we've got two more playmates.”

“With friends.”

“Yes. Let's move out. Drop us into
stealth again.”

“Captain, if we do that we won't make
the planned timing with the fighter attack.”

“I'm not going to go all the way in
under stealth, I just want to keep them guessing a little longer.”

“Aye Captain, rigging for silent running
now.”

“And Commander...”

“Sorry skipper, devil's advocate. Part
of the job.”

“I know that. I'm fine with that.”

“They will be ready for us Captain.”

The Captain nodded, cold sober. She knew
the risks. One good hit at just the wrong angle and a shot could punch through
their hull and tear their hyperdrive apart. Or worse, blow them apart. They all
knew the risks. But with lives on the line, they were going in anyway. “If they
are smart they'll pull out. Count their blessings and get out while the getting
was good. But if I'm right, this Cartwright may be part political animal. He
may know that if he returned with his tail tucked between his legs he'd lose
his head.”

“I see.”

“So, he'll risk losing it anyway. Let's
be a good headsman shall we?” the Captain asked, smiling slightly.

...*...*...*...*...

Admiral Cartwright came onto the bridge
an hour after he'd intended, but the Captain wisely didn't draw attention to
that little slip. From the look on the admiral's face he had indeed gotten some
of his mad out, but he didn't know at what amount of expense. He frowned
briefly, then shrugged when the admiral looked at him.

“CIC has gone over what we've picked up.
It's sketchy as hell admiral, but I'm pretty sure they are right, it is the
cruiser.”

“Firefly.”

“Yes sir. There is no way a ship that
mass and with that number of missile tubes could be anything else,” the Captain
said, waving to the main plot. The admiral's eyes cut to the frozen display. Up
until his entry the Captain had obviously been going over what sensor readings
and optical footage they had available. Unfortunately not a lot.

“Drones are away, but it will be at
least forty hours before they are in range of the... ambush sight.”

“By that time they could be long gone.
On their way here.”

“Yes sir,” the Captain replied, nodding.

“Which means we'll have to figure out
something and fast.”

“Yes sir.”

“No other drive readings?”

“No sir, they've dropped back into
stealth,” the Captain replied.

“Which means they could come in on a
straight baseline course, reversing the track Sirius's group had followed, or
they could go wide and slingshot in from another angle and hit us from a
flank.”

“Yes sir.”

“Get with the group commanders. I want a
conference in twenty minutes. While they get their shit together, form a
defensive rosette. We don't need any more surprises.”

“We're not going to run?” the Captain
asked in surprise. The admiral scowled at him. “Sir?” he added weakly.

“No. We're not cowards. We're not going
to run. This prize is too important to lose to one ship no matter how big it
thinks
it's britches are. We've got the numbers, we'll use them. We're the hunters,
it's about time we acted like it,” the admiral growled.

“Aye aye sir,” the Captain said, feeling
a bit nervous. It was one thing to hunt unarmed civilian freighters, quite
another to hunt something that could shoot back.

...*...*...*...*...

“Captain, a moment,” Firefly said. The
Captain looked up from the damage report.

“Something?”

“Yes. I have come to understand why I
didn't get anywhere with the gunships. They aren't salvage, they are new
construction.”

“New... did you say
new
construction?”

“Yes. A lot of their parts were off the shelf,
but their computers were apparently based on civilian hardware unfamiliar to
me. And firewalled.”

“Ah. I see.” They had hoped that Firefly
could have pulled off the same stunt admiral Irons and Sprite had pulled off in
Pyrax, taking control and lobotomizing or activating the self destruct on some
or all of the smaller ships. That unfortunately hadn't happened.

“Yes. One of the frigates seems to be
new construction as well. Built from a mix of salvaged civilian and military
grade hardware, on a new hull.”

“Really.”

“Yes. So, we have some strategic
thinking to think about.”

“You mean later. Much later. We have a
battle to win in...” she looked at her chrono. “Twenty hours.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Anything more on their specs?”

“Quite a bit actually. Lieutenant Purple
Thorn?” the AI asked, turning to the tactical officer.

“Yes,” the elf said. “I was going to
finish, but anyway,” she said in irritation. “Here goes. The gunships have two
point defense turrets, one dorsal, one ventral, both mounted near the center of
gravity of the ship. Both are slow firing, we didn't have time to take them
apart so I'm not sure if it is because the ship's have only a tiny civilian
grade capacitors or something else. Two of the gunships have a small class 1
spinal mount neutron particle beam. They also have two cells of missiles, short
range twenty missiles in each cell.”

“How short ranged?”

“Under fifty kilometers of drive times
skipper.”

“Ah.”

“The point defense lasers are ball
turrets, each with a one eighty degree firing arch and a three sixty degree
rotation. They have the standard one meter aperture so they are limited to
about one hundred km range.”

“Okay.”

“Crew of four to five max, she's really
an oversized fighter. Short range.”

“Okay.”

“From the brief look at their wiring and
from going over the footage of the battle, I've determined that they can't fire
both turrets at the same time. They stagger fire, fire one, then as it's
recharging fire the other.”

“I see,” the Captain mused. “Spinal
mount you said?”

“The particle gun? Yes ma'am. One of the
Frigates had a rail gun of all things instead of a particle gun.”

“Really?”

“Yes ma'am. I'm wondering why. A problem
with particle weapon supply?” she shrugged her tiny shoulders. “And why they
didn't apply that to the missiles instead.”

“Not my problem.”

“True.”

“So they can't hit what they aren't
heading towards. Okay,” the Captain said, nodding. “We can use that.”

“The point defense lasers aren't
powerful enough to pierce our shields unless we have more than one attack us at
the same time in the same sector.”

“It's an oversized pop gun with the
shields of a shuttle craft.”

“Really?”

“From the look we got of them, yes,” the
elf said. “Their armor is almost nonexistent. Which is understandable, the
weight trade off,” she shrugged.

“No fullerene? No diamond?”

“There is a refractive coating but it's
cheap. A micron thin layer of aluminum and silica. Our weapons go through it
like tissue paper.”

“Ah,” the Captain replied. “Still, if we
stay out of their engagement basket...”

“How?”

“If they're running they can't hit us
with the particle gun. And if they're running they'll conserve all their power
for their drive not their pop guns.”