Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2)
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It
was at this point that two things happened almost simultaneously. The Helm
Officer returned and main power came back on. Montoya listened to the officer’s
report.

 

“Whatever
hit us caved in part of the hull on the lower side, decks two through seven.
That disrupted power conduits. The XO and the EO figured out how to reroute
main power to the upper half of the ship. The bad news is maneuvering, Skipper.
The best we can do now is 1.1G.”

 

Montoya
thanked her and sent her back to her station. A quick check revealed that while
internal communications were back online, he was still unable to contact any
other ship in the squadron, but the tactical display was working. It was clear
to him that all four ships of the squadron had been hit hard since all of them
were now coasting on a ballistic trajectory. Continuing the mission and getting
away was going to be difficult. The Helm Officer was already calculating
possible trajectories with the ship’s reduced acceleration, and all of them
involved running a long gauntlet of potential missile fire from the FED ships.
If the FEDs had more of those fission warheads, and he had to assume that they
did, then the chances of surviving long enough to micro-jump away were slim. On
the other hand, if the FEDs did fire more missiles, he would definitely use his
AMMs to stop them. He wondered if the FEDs knew that Union ships carried
anti-missile missiles. If they didn’t, then maybe there was a chance to survive
this, but the key was restoring communications with the rest of the squadron.

 

“Montoya
to XO.” He had to repeat the call twice before the XO responded.

 

“XO
here.”

 

“I
still don’t have contact with the squadron, XO. Tell the damage control people
that’s their top priority now. We have to co-ordinate our actions if we want to
get through this.”

 

“Understood,
Skipper. I’m on it,” said the XO.

 

Makassar
Defense Force:

Remington
looked at the tactical display sidebar data carefully. All four bogeys were no
longer maneuvering, just coasting and on a new trajectory too. The fission
warheads had been powerful enough to knock the ships off their previous vector.
She looked at the Weapons Officer. He returned the look and shrugged. He didn’t
know why they weren’t firing more missiles either. She decided to ask the CO.
As she stepped up to the side of the Command Chair, the CO took notice.

 

“What’s
on your mind, Commander?”

 

Remington
bent over and spoke in a low voice that only her CO could hear. “I’m puzzled
why we’re not firing more missiles, Captain.”

 

When
he replied, his voice was equally low. “Commodore Stevens is calling on them to
surrender. No response so far which could be because their communications are
damaged. As you know, we don’t have a lot of Mark 1s right now. If we can get
them to surrender without using any more nukes so much the better.”

 

“Yes,
Sir,” said Remington. As she walked back to stand near the Weapons Station, she
pondered the CO’s answer. Those four bogeys were still getting closer to Makassar.
They could start firing missiles at ground targets any minute now. If it were
up to her, she’d fire at least one more volley of Mark 1s and cripple those
ships as quickly as possible, regardless of how few Mark 1s they had left. What
was the point of having them if they weren’t going to be used? She was still
debating the pros and cons of firing versus not firing when the CO surprised
her with a missile launch order.

 

“Weps,
fire three HEs at each target.”

 

The
WO repeated the order and then confirmed the missile launch. Remington checked
the interception eta. Less than six minutes. Her ship and the bogeys were now
much closer than they had been when she launched the first volley. All six FED
ships were now heading more or less directly for the oncoming enemy squadron.
If neither side veered off, both sides would pass each other so closely that
collision could be a serious risk.

 

Remington
was puzzled by this head-on tactic. Those Union cruisers could launch up to 20
missiles each every 15 seconds. Her squadron’s only defense against missiles
were rapid-fire railgun cannon with six on each ship for a total of thirty-six.
The closer they got to the enemy ships, the less time the railguns would have
to track and fire on incoming missiles.
Why the hell are we fucking around
with these bastards?
she asked herself.
We should be veering off to one
side to keep the range open as much as possible and smother them with missiles.

 

SSU
Task Force:

Montoya
looked up at the tactical display as it pinged for attention. The FEDs were
firing again this time with three volleys of four missiles each. He wasn’t
surprised that they fired again, but he was surprised that they waited this
long to do it. They had given him time to re-establish contact with the other three
ships and discover their status. Two could maneuver to some extent, one had no
ability to maneuver at all. If he was going to go with his plan, they would
have to maintain their present course in order to stay together. He was very
tempted to order all four ships to fire at the FED ships.  It would be very
satisfying to smash those FED cruisers into scrap metal, but doing so would
preclude inflicting the most damage possible on the planet’s industrial
centers, and that was his only priority. His ships could fire at the planet or
at the defending ships, but not both at the same time. He looked at his Weapons
Officer who looked back and nodded. All four ships knew what they had to do.
They were just waiting for Montoya to give the word.

 

“Execute,”
said Montoya.

 

“First
volley is away. All ships have fired, Skipper,” said the Weapons Officer.
Eighty missiles veered away to head for a particular spot on the planet’s
surface. He hoped he’d gotten the timing right. In order to intercept the
incoming FED missiles with AMMs, his ships had to load and fire AMMs no later
than 30 seconds before enemy missile impact. That left his ships with just
enough time to fire five more volleys of HE missiles at planetary targets. He
wasn’t worried about the 12 missiles that were heading his way now. His
anti-missile fire would take care of them. It was the follow-on volleys that
worried him. If the FED waited to see how their second volley fared, they would
see his AMMs and adjust their choice of missile warheads accordingly. But if
they did what he wanted them to do, namely fire their fission warhead missiles
quickly, then his ships might have enough AMMs to intercept them, with a slight
chance of successfully running the FED gauntlet and escaping out the other
side.

 

Makassar
Defense Force:

“Son-of-a-bitch,”
said Remington’s CO as the tactical display showed a new red icon with the
number 80 inside it veering off toward Makassar. After a one second pause he
started to speak. “Commodore, I recommend…” He stopped. Remington knew that
Commodore Stevens had interrupted her CO, but only he was able to hear what
Stevens had to say. “If we switch to Alpha6 I’ll have just enough Mark 1s for
two volleys…” There was another interruption. “Your orders are clear, Sir.
Alpha6 it is.” Turning to look at the Weapons Officer, the CO said, “Weps,
we’re switching to Alpha6. As soon as you have targets programmed and tubes
loaded, you may fire and continue firing until we’re out of Mark 1s. Any
questions?”

 

“No
questions, Skipper.” Remington realized that she was holding her breath and
consciously let it out. Alpha6 under these circumstances meant that the ship
would fire eight Mark 1 fission warhead missiles per volley. Two volleys would
use up all of their remaining 16 Mark 1s. She wondered if the other ships in
the squadron would also fire under Alpha6. Seconds later she had her answer.
The squadron flagship fired eight missiles even before her own ship was ready.
The other four ships of the squadron weren’t far behind. Forty-eight missiles,
composed of six groups of eight, were heading for the Union ships.
We should
have co-ordinated our fire so that they all arrive on target at the same time
.
Stevens panicked. General Trojan isn’t going to like that,
thought
Remington.

 

Montoya
smiled as the display showed first six and then a total of twelve clusters of
eight missiles each heading for his squadron. He was willing to bet that those
96 missiles had fission warheads, and there was just enough time to fire his
volleys at the planetary targets and still be able to intercept the enemy fire
with his anti-missile missiles. If that’s all the enemy could throw at him,
then his ships would get through this.

 

Makassar
Defense Force:

Remington
shook her head in dismay. There were now 480 enemy missiles headed for six
industrial centers on Makassar. Each center had its own ground-based, rail-gun
cannons, and their effective range was enhanced by the fact that Makassar had
no atmosphere to slow down the accelerated metal slugs, but hitting 80 missiles
over an interception window of just a few seconds was a big challenge, and the
industrial centers were too far apart for the rail-guns around one to help
defend another.

 

Remington
watched closely as the two volleys from the FED squadron approached their
targets. The tactical display zoomed in on the enemy ships. She saw multiple
smaller and faster enemy missiles streak out and hit each FED missile. Some of
the interceptors missed, but the enemy ships seemed to have enough to
compensate for the misses. She heard a collective groan when the last of the
two volleys were destroyed before reaching their targets. None of the Mark 1
warheads got through. Remington heard her CO clear his throat.

 

“Commodore,
I have a suggestion.” Stevens must have given him permission to explain. “We
should continue to fire HE missiles. The enemy will have to assume that they’re
nukes and will have to continue using their counter-missiles. With a little
luck, they’ll run out before they pass us. When we see our missiles hitting
their hulls, then your ship and the rest of the squadron can fire their
remaining Mark 1s and they should get through.” There was a long pause followed
by, “I agree, Sir. Alpha1 is the best way to proceed.” He looked over at the
Weapons Officer again. “Okay, Weps, we’re switching to Alpha1 targeting. Fire
when ready and continue until you hear otherwise.”

 

“Alpha1
and continuous fire. Got it, Skipper. We’re reloading now. Firing
in…three…two…one…NOW!”

 

SSU
Task Force:

The
cheers on the Bridge of Montoya’s flagship over the successful interception of
all the incoming FED missiles died away as the tactical display pinged again
and more volleys of missiles headed for the Strike Force. Montoya’s expression
was grim as he counted how many times each FED ship was firing. When the number
reached four he cursed silently and looked away. There was no way that his
ships had enough AMMs to stop all those missiles. If those missiles carried
nukes, the Strike Force was toast. After pondering the situation, he realized
that while all four ships were unlikely to make it through the missile
gauntlet, it might be possible to get one ship through. Checking the display’s
sidebar data, he saw that Charger had the least damage and the highest
acceleration of the four ships. The other two ships plus his own flagship would
use their AMMs to protect Charger as long as possible. Once his mind was made
up, the heavy burden of responsibility on his shoulders seemed to become
lighter.”

 

“Com,
I want a tight beam channel to all ships, and I want the crew to hear this
too,” said Montoya to the Com Tech.

 

“Inter-ship
and intercom channels are open, Sir.”

 

Montoya
nodded. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

 

Makassar
Defense Force:

Remington’s
attention was focused on the front wave of the latest missile volleys. With the
range between the two groups of ships dropping fast, the time to intercept was
now measured in seconds rather than minutes.

 

“They’ve
begun their counter-fire,” said the Weapons Officer.

 

“But
not all of them,” said Remington. “One ship didn’t fire and…” She paused to
make sure she really was seeing what she thought she was. “All the other
counter fire is focused on protecting that one ship!”

 

“Damn.
They’re trying to sneak one through,” said the CO. “As soon as our first wave
hits their targets, the Rebels will realize that we’re not firing nukes
anymore.”

 

It
doesn’t matter,
thought
Remington.
By the time they realize what we’re firing at them, they’ll have
used up most or maybe all of their counter-missiles except for that one ship.
The question will be do we have enough remaining Mark 1s to overwhelm that one
ship’s defenses?

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