No Way to Start a War (TCOTU, Book 2) (This Corner of the Universe) (16 page)

The
question was answered fourteen minutes later as Heskan watched the Hollaran
fleet rotate one hundred eighty degrees and begin to decelerate.  Specialized
shuttles ferried missiles between the supply ships and combatants, and the
battle became a race to see if the logisticians could replenish the Hollaran
inventories before Brevic fighter anti-ship missiles rained down on them. 
Admiral Hayes had launched six of the possible eight squadrons against the
Hollaran force, comprising one hundred sixty-eight fighters now racing toward
the enemy.  The two squadrons held back were to constitute the carriers’ CAP.  The
fighters of VF-19 and -20 sat patiently on their launch decks, anti-fighter
missiles hanging from their stubby wings.

“Jack,
how long until the ASMs reach that fleet?” Heskan asked his sensors officer.

Truesworth
quickly computed the time for the fighters to reach their missile launch point
and then the missile flight times before answering, “Estimated forty-two
minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

Heskan
noticed a slight nod to his left from Vernay.  “The Hollies will barely be able
to fill a third of their magazines with so little time,” she said.  “They
gambled on stopping our attack at the tunnel point and now they’re caught
outgunned and low on ammunition.”

Maybe
the Hollarans are starting to fall apart,
Heskan thought hopefully.

Selvaggio
turned toward Heskan and Vernay.  “We finally have maneuvering orders, Captain. 
The task group is to sail on an intercept course for that Hollie fleet at point
two-C, sir.”

Lieutenant
Truesworth added, “Task Group One-One is beginning to dive out of Helike.”  His
console chimed once and he looked down.  “Incoming message from Admiral Hayes.”

Heskan
quickly accepted the communication request and saw an irritated Hayes looking
at him from the main wall screen.  “Why am I talking to you again, Commander?”

Because
Durmont has abdicated all authority and has all of his messages auto-forwarded
to me, Admiral.
 
Heskan hesitated as he searched for a quick and suitable answer.  Before he
could come up with one, Hayes spoke first.  “Commander Heskan, tell Durmont if
he wants to remain in command of CortRon Fifteen, he better be available for all
future conversations.”

This
simplified Heskan’s response significantly.  “Yes, sir.”

Hayes
nodded curtly at the affirmation.  “I’m calling because one of the destroyers
in Task Group One-One had her tunnel drive knocked out.  She has functional conventional
propulsion so she’ll be staying with us for the foreseeable future.  Contact
Tomahawk and insert her into your squadron.”

“Doing
that now, Admiral,” Heskan replied as he quickly looked down to send his comm
request.  When he looked up, Hayes was gone.

In
Hayes’ place, a wild-eyed lieutenant peered back at Heskan.  His shocksuit was
singed black.  The strain on the lieutenant’s face manifested in deep grooves
and his voice was pure stress.  “This is Tomahawk.”

Wow,
that kid looks like a wreck,
Heskan thought.  “Hello, Tomahawk, I’m Lieutenant Commander Heskan, the vice
commander of CortRon Fifteen.  I hear you’re coming for a ride with us.” 
Heskan smiled and tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible.

“Captain
Barnes is dead, our bridge got hit,” the lieutenant answered.  “Operations got
there as soon as possible but the fire suppression system malfunctioned and it
was… horrible.”  His glassy eyes took on a distant look as he trailed off.

Heskan
again tried to smile supportively.  “That’s all right, Lieutenant.  That’s why
we have multiple command stations.  Are you the acting captain?” he asked.

“Yes. 
The bridge got hit and there was a fire and everyone was burning.”

Heskan
and Vernay exchanged anxious looks.  
This guy is in shock
, Heskan
thought. 
He’s not fit to command.  In his condition, he’ll do more harm
than good.
  A broader realization struck Heskan and he sat upright. 
I
will face this head-on this time.
  “Lieutenant…?” Heskan prompted.

“Carpenter,
sir,” came the reply.

“Who
is second-in-command right now?” Heskan questioned.

The
lieutenant stared at him blankly.  “I’m not sure.  The captain was burned real
bad when the bridge was hit… they all were.  I went in with Operations but
their bodies… all curled up… so small, like children…”  He squeezed his eyes
shut and swallowed.

“You’ll
be okay, Lieutenant.  You can designate one right now.  Please do so,” Heskan said
slowly.

Heskan
watched as the young lieutenant looked around before finally saying, “Lieutenant
Grant is the second-in-command.”

Heskan
nodded encouragingly.  “Good, Lieutenant.  Now listen to me.  Transfer me to
Lieutenant Grant, then go to Medical and tell the doctor you need an assessment. 
Do you understand?”

Carpenter
nodded slowly and brought a severely shaking, blackened glove into view as he
tried to manipulate the console in front of him.  The image blinked and went to
static but the voice of another crewman came over the channel.  “What do you
need, Justin?”

“Lieutenant
Grant, this is Lieutenant Commander Heskan from CortRon Fifteen.  You are in
command of Tomahawk.  Acknowledge that.”

After
a brief silence, the reply came.  “Sir?  I think Lieutenant Carpenter has
seniority in Auxiliary Control.”

“He’s
undergoing medical treatment so you’re it.  Get your butt over to Aux Con and
take control,” Heskan ordered.  “Do you know Tomahawk’s situation?”  Heskan
immediately berated himself
, that was a poorly phrased question
.

“Heavy
damage.  Missile launchers Two through Eight are gone.  Heavy GP laser batteries
Three and Five are out—”

Heskan
cut him off.  “Not what I meant, Lieutenant.  Are you aware that Tomahawk is
joining CortRon Fifteen?”

“I
know we can’t dive for Kale,” he answered.

Heskan
looked at Lieutenant Vernay as he spoke.  “Right.  By the time you get to Auxiliary
Control, my first officer will have sent your navigator sailing instructions to
join up with us.  You aren’t going to provide much help in missile defense but
at least you’ll be inside our defense screen and protected.  Get up to date and
call back if you have any questions.  Heskan out.”

As
soon as he cut the channel, Vernay said, “On it, Captain.  Jack, tell him the
news.”

Heskan
turned his puzzled look toward Lieutenant Truesworth.

“Sir,
that Hollaran heavy cruiser is Komandor Lombardi’s ship.  It’s clearly identifiable
from the damage it sustained at Sponde.”

Tomahawk
pushed her drives hard for seven
minutes before finally taking her designated place inside CortRon 15.  Vernay
positioned the damaged destroyer not in the heart of the defensive screen but
off-center and shaded slightly toward
Bulwark
.  Heskan wanted to ask why
she had decided upon that location but did not want to give the impression he
was second-guessing her decision
.  I’m sure she has a great reason and I’ll
ask her after the engagement when I’m compiling the after-action report
.

The
remainder of Task Group 1.1 had dove from Helike.  The Kale tunnel point, 1
lm
behind the advancing Brevic fleet, was a desolate patch of space inhabited only
by the broken hulks of the Hollaran fortresses and debris fields left by Brevic
ships.

Avenger
and
Eagle
sailed at a measured
pace toward the enemy fleet even as their fighters ate the distance more
rapidly.  The fighters were 11
lm
from the Hollaran ships, an estimated
twenty minutes from their missile launch point.  Hayes’ task group, moving
slower and having started their progression well after the fighters, had only
closed a fraction of the original 15
lm
distance between the opposing
fleets.

Their
quarry had agreeably remained stationary, attempting to make profitable use of
every second they had until attacked. 
Kite’s
optics monitored the
supply ships stubbornly holding their position amidst the frantic efforts of
their shuttle tenders transporting anti-ship missiles into the loading bays of
the Hollaran military ships.

Very
brave
, Heskan
admired as he watched the unarmed replenishment ships stand their ground to
restock their protectors.

Seventeen
minutes later, they began to move.  “The supply ships are running, Captain,”
Truesworth confirmed while
Kite’s
tactical computer split the enemy
fleet into halves on the main display.  An uncertainty zone appeared around the
supply fleet’s symbols, indicating how far the ships may have progressed during
the twelve minutes it had taken the light of their initial movement to reach
Kite
.

“They
waited until the last second,” Vernay observed.  “Our fighters could easily reach
them if they wanted to.”  Although unarmed, the replenishment ships were a high
value prize.  The adage that colonels discuss tactics while generals discuss
logistics had remained a military constant since the inception of warfare.

“I doubt
they’ll try for them, Stacy,” Heskan answered as he rested an elbow on his
right chair arm.  “We can’t ignore that missile fleet or it might try to close on
us and we’re not exactly outfitted for a heavy laser engagement.  However, I
wouldn’t be surprised if our fighters visit those ships on the next strike.”

The
minutes passed slowly until the Brevic fighters reached their launch point.  Six
hundred fifty-six missiles leapt off the rails of the snub-nosed Pups, which
immediately spun in half circles and began to return to the carriers.  Four
fighters lagged behind the main group’s deceleration, encumbered by hung
ordnance on their wings.  With a closure rate of .5
c
, the fighters were
1
lm
from the carriers when their missiles breached the point defense
shell of the Hollaran fleet.

The
missiles raced in as one, colossal wave.  Heskan sat on the edge of his seat as
he watched the eight-minute-old battle.  Earlier,
Kite’s
sensor section
had identified the Hollaran fleet composition as Lombardi’s damaged heavy
cruiser, three light missile cruisers, two missile destroyers and the six-ship
escort squadron that had previously guarded the late Hollaran carrier,
Onesti
. 
Interestingly, while the ships of the escort squadron were top-of-the-line
units, the missile ships were older models. 
Have we hurt the Hollies that
bad?
Heskan pondered.  Although he was hopeful, he suspected the appearance
of the older classes was more likely a result of Bree’s swift push into Helike
than the Hollaran Commonwealth beginning to run low on front line units. 
Still,
those older ships won’t have near the throw-weight the newer ones do.  I have
to confess I thought rushing into Helike was a mistake but perhaps I was wrong
.

Heskan
knew the outdated missile ships would have lesser point defense capabilities
against the latest generation Brevic ASMs, and while the escort squadron was a modern
unit, its six ships faced a veritable wall of over six hundred missiles
. 
Heskan
was surprised that rather than feeling the elation of impending victory, he
felt something closer to dread. 
I guess it’s just that I’ve been in that
position myself, facing an attack I knew I couldn’t stop but knowing I had
civilians to protect
.  Heskan sighed quietly. 
I know they’re the enemy
and I know they’d kill us if they could but I sure will be happy when this war
is over
.

The
missile wave began to wash over the Hollaran ships. 
Kite’s
count on the
tactical plot reduced quickly as the Hollaran escorts successfully engaged
missile after missile.  In the ten-second interception window, an astounding
ninety-three percent of the Brevic missiles fell from space.  However, the surviving
forty-six missiles avenged their brothers.  Heskan watched the time-delayed
optical as the escort squadron intrepidly took the brunt of the hits.  One
escort light cruiser disintegrated under eleven nearly simultaneous strikes. 
Not
even an ELTI from it
, Heskan thought grimly as he watched a second escort
light cruiser vomit a short-lived inferno of debris under the combined assault
of seven missiles.  The stern began to crumple inward as its inertial compensators
failed and the drives of the light cruiser, still operating, pushed themselves
into the ship’s internal structure.  Seconds later, a bright blossom of light
erupted from its center.  At the same time, an escort destroyer staggered from
the onslaught of six missiles streaming into its side in nearly perfect
sequence.  Its hull tore open from bow to stern.  After the initial gush of
flame, blackened debris poured from each chasm.  Closer to the center of the
enemy formation, an escort frigate simply vanished as five missiles ripped
through the little ship.

Despite
being sheltered by the escort squadron, the Hollaran missile ships were not spared
from the carnage.  The remaining seventeen Brevic missiles streaked toward Lombardi’s
damaged heavy cruiser, positioned between the incoming missiles and the older
ships.  Its GP lasers lashed out desperately to swat four missiles away even as
a fifth cratered into the cruiser’s side.  Although over 8
lm
away,
Heskan winced as the missile savagely gashed another wide hole amidship.

The
last twelve missiles streaked past the heavy cruiser, locking instead on a
destroyer and light cruiser behind it.  Each elder ship managed to intercept
two missiles apiece but then weathered a quartet of blows from the remaining
missiles.  The ships buckled and rocked at the assault but remained under power
as they sailed, sides burning brightly, out of their own debris fields.

Almost
immediately after the missile assault, Heskan watched the surviving ships begin
to rotate away from the Brevic fleet.

“It
looks like they’re running, sir,” Truesworth said exultantly.  “As soon as they
stop trailing debris, I’ll get you damage estimates on the fleet.”  The young
lieutenant began talking excitedly into his helmet’s mic.

Heskan
did not need a damage report to know the remaining nine Hollaran ships, while
still dangerous up close, were finished. 
If they set a course toward us,
we’d just run from them while we recovered and rearmed the fighters for a
second strike.  I guess they’ve decided to make a last stand at the doorstep of
Salus.  Either way, they’re as good as dead.  The only question is whether we
strike the planet next or finish the Hollie ships first.

Task Group 3.1
pursued the Hollaran fleet as both groups sailed toward Salus.  After
forty-five minutes, Heskan received word over the fleet command channel that
the fighter strike force had been successfully recovered and would be launching
for Salus in ten minutes.  The fleet would be 40
lm
from the planet when
they launched.  Admiral Hayes’ orders were to follow the fighters toward Salus
to reduce their return time to the carriers, unless the surviving Hollaran
fleet, now 8.5
lm
away and still running toward Salus, came about in an attempt
to close with the carriers after the fighters launched.

*  *  *

Inside
Eagle
, Ensign Gables watched her ground crew chock the landing struts of
her Pup and then duck underneath her fighter’s stubby nose to begin the
after-sortie checklist.  The ASM mission had been pulled off with textbook
efficiency and she was quite pleased in general. 
The new pilots are fitting
in nicely and with us veterans around to give them advice, even the recovery took
only fifteen minutes longer than anticipated.
  Gables’ own landing had been
rated satisfactory and she was beginning to believe that she might be
developing into a suitable pilot.

Oblivious
to the chaos in the hangar around her, she looked at the next mission profile. 
Although the information was only half-complete, she could tell they would be
conducting strikes against Salus next.  Specific targets were not yet
designated but the ingress of the fighter strike force and the launch profile
suggested a maximum range attack. 
That should keep us well clear of any planet-based
attack craft.  Any atmospheric craft that can also travel in space won’t have
the speed or range to reach us
, she thought happily.  It was unknown if
Salus had received dedicated fighters with AFMs but apparently fleet leadership
was not taking any chances.  Gables smiled as she reviewed the cautious
approach.  
It looks like the admiralty is looking out for us this time. 
Maybe we’re not so expendable after all
.

From
the corner of her eye, Gables saw Rhodes passionately gesturing at the weapons
load crew approaching her Pup.  His fierce, almost violent, motions denoted a deep
dissatisfaction.  He was in animated discussion with a red-suited petty officer
third class when he shoved the ordnanceman away from the F-3.  Gables punched
the canopy release button and could hear Rhodes’ hostile voice as the cockpit
seal was broken.

“Pull
your head out, man!”  Rhodes was screaming as he pointed at nearby LAM-22
fusion-warhead missiles.  “You’re not putting those things on my Pup,” he
insisted.  “Check your orders again!”  Rhodes’ ground crew had taken up
positions on either side of him and looked equally stern, arms crossed below
faces of stone.

Gables’
stomach lurched at the sight of the fusion missiles.  Over C-flight’s
communication frequency, she asked her flight leader, “What are they putting under
my wings, Twenty-one?”

While
she waited for an answer, the situation around her Pup calmed as the ordnancemen
moved away from her stall.  She strained to see into the fighter stall across
from her own and thought she saw twin fusion missiles being attached to Ensign Lane’s
F-3.

“Zip
it, Twenty-five,” Lieutenant Walker admonished over her headset.  “We’re
getting a mixed load of conventional and fusion missiles but the release of
fusion weapons has not been authorized.”  Realizing the entire flight was
listening, Walker continued, “Relax, mates, we’ll get an explanation once we
receive the rest of our briefing after the launch, but right now the CAG has
ordered communications silence.”

That’s a load of crap
, Gables thought as she shook her
head. 
They can’t possibly want us to turn that planet into a cinder ball. 
Gables’
ground crew was still standing idly near the Pup while Rhodes talked into his
headset, shaking his head emphatically. 
That’s comforting.  If Rhodes has
anything to say about this I won’t even have them on my bus. 
The comfort
was short-lived as the redsuits reappeared with an armed marine escort.

*  *  *

A
moment after his sensor console beeped, Truesworth announced, “Uh, we have an incoming
double-encrypted message from the admiral, sir.”  He quickly ran the decoding
algorithms before reading it.  “It says the fighter launch is delayed.  Avenger
and Eagle will launch in another twenty minutes.”

Odd
, Heskan thought. 
Why bother to
slap double-encryption on that?
  He shrugged.  “Okay, Jack.”  Heskan looked
over at Selvaggio.  “Maintain our position in the formation, Diane.”

Lieutenant
Selvaggio was about to reply but was interrupted by Truesworth.  “Bearing
change on the Hollie fleet, Captain.”

The
optical sensors focused on the Hollaran survivors and displayed each of the
nine ships turning to starboard and veering away from the planet.  The move was
not unexpected.  By changing course away from Salus, the Hollarans were forcing
the Brevic commanders to choose openly between the two targets. 
It’s even
possible
, Heskan mused,
that the Hollie fleet could open the distance
enough to move out of our sensor range while we sail toward the planet.  Will
Admiral Hayes change his mind and decide to go after the Hollie fleet first?