Counterstrike (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 3) (19 page)

****

“All of the hull breaches are repaired to the point that Commander Singh feels comfortable clearing the ship for warp transition,” Hayashi was saying as the rest of first watch filtered onto the bridge, all of them holding some sort of liquid stimulant in their hands. “The cube has been secured and the shuttle crew has been cleared to return to duty.”

“Good, good,” Jackson said. “Any word on if they were able to locate the bodies that were missing from the EVA mission?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but no.” Hayashi looked down at the floor. “There was simply too much debris from the destroyed Alpha and our own engine to pick out the small profiles of the EVA suits on radar.”

“Very well,” Jackson said. “Tell the crew that we will have a memorial service for our crewmembers directly preceding the planned service for the
Artemis
. Inform Engineering that I intend to begin accelerating for the jump point as soon as the
Atlas
and
Hyperion
join the formation; the other ships will follow two days later. Given that we’ll be limping to transition on a single main we’ll all arrive in the X-Ray system more or less together that way.”

“Yes, sir.” Hayashi bowed his head again. “I will prepare a brief and inform the crew.” Jackson watched as he hustled away, and he made a mental note to make sure the young officer was taken care of if they survived the upcoming fight. He had no illusions about his own future; he had no chance of ever advancing past captaining a destroyer and he was just fine with that. He would retire with a collective sigh of relief from the Fleet brass, but he had a talented crop of junior officers that he wanted to see given every chance to go as far as they could. Barrett and Davis in particular had command written all over them, and Hayashi needed to be given experience past the OPS station. There were also some hard-charging enlisted spacers like Accari whom he would like to see given the option to attend the Academy’s accelerated officer training program.

He shook his head to clear out all the fluff. What the hell? He had to be completely focused on the task at hand and put all the administrative crap on hold until they were in a position to worry about such things. The damnable, unfair misery of it was that the whole thing was just a form of mental masturbation meant to accomplish one thing: distract him from the fact that he was leading these men and women to almost certain death. It wasn’t just the numerical superiority that had him concerned; he was still quite shaken at how the
Ares
had responded in her first real bare-knuckle fight with a Phage heavy. While the gravity bombs were a unique and unpredictable element to the fight, it hadn’t taken much and she was now missing an engine and streaming atmosphere from a dozen temporary hull patches.

The
Blue Jacket
had taken harder hits on the chin during her engagement with a Phage Super Alpha and wouldn’t lay down, kept coming back for one more round. The
Starwolf
-class was maybe too clever, too dependent on the exotic materials and cutting-edge structural engineering methodologies. There was something to be said for the old iron. His previous ship had a hull that was three meters thick of solid alloy in most places. But maybe the problem was him. He was given a new ship that was faster, nimbler, and loaded with tech that he hadn’t even dreamed of years ago and he still tried to fight her like she was a drunken bar brawler instead of playing to her strengths.

“Are you okay, sir?” Davis asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jackson smiled absently. “Just thinking.”

“Yes, sir,” Davis looked unconvinced. “We’ll be ready to get underway shortly. Engineering is just making some final inspections of the drive.”

“Very good,” Jackson stood. “You have the ship, Lieutenant. Make sure everyone knows that it’s dress blacks for the service unless they’re working in an area that precludes it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said somberly.

“Transition successful,” Hayashi announced.

“Position verified, sir,” Accari said. “We’re right on target and in the X-Ray system.”

“Tactical, full passive scans of the system,” Jackson said. “This is still contested space. Use the cube’s detection equipment if you need to. Helm, push us out of the jump point on thrusters, maintain our carried-over velocity from transition.”

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said. “Pushing off to starboard.”

“OPS, have Engineering perform a full set of checks on the warp drive and on Engine One before we fire it up,” Jackson said. “Let’s not take any unnecessary risks with our only MPD pod.”

The
Ares
slid into the system with the momentum she carried from the warp transition, while Commander Singh’s crews worked feverishly to make sure she was ready for the next short warp flight to the Xi’an System before the long burn all the way to New Sierra. Jackson spent his time reviewing the new technical data the Vruahn had transmitted over, specifically the rough mission parameters they’d set for the attack on the Phage core mind. The plan was pretty cut and dry, which was good in some ways. They were fielding the largest armada in the history of human spaceflight and there were a lot of moving parts. Command and control would be an issue no matter what, so Jackson did lean towards the elegance of a simple plan that everyone could understand.

The bad part was that the Vruahn weren’t exactly tactical geniuses. A good strategy didn’t have to be overly complex to be workable, but it also shouldn’t be too obvious. The idea of using a Phage transponder to allow them a close approach was a good one, if it worked, but he had no illusions that they would be so easily fooled for long. A species that was able to communicate across such vast distances almost instantaneously would be aware when one of their big boys had dropped off the map without a trace. Having it just pop back up next to one of their most strategically important installations was sure to put them on the defensive almost immediately.

As he read the synopsis provided with the Vruahn battle plan he started to recognize certain themes. The Phage were vicious and instinctual, but they were not unthinking beasts. While they certainly reacted to stimuli in a way that gave the appearance that they were mostly animalistic in nature, Jackson had observed them employing increasingly complex tactics against Fleet forces based on their limited experience with humans, even to the point of dabbling in the nuances of psychological warfare, tiring the easily stressed humans to the point of rash action. The Vruahn seemed to think that the Phage were just advanced constructs that, in spite of the core mind’s influence, were incapable of higher reasoning and that the simple, blunt methods they’d laid out would secure a victory.

Or … they knew that it wouldn’t but the battle would effectively eliminate humanity’s military strength while weakening the Phage to the point that they wouldn’t threaten the Vruahn for many years to come. Could their new allies, a species of avowed pacifists, really be so coldly calculating with the fates of entire species? The answer he had for that question sent a cold chill up his spine.

“Captain, we have a standard Fleet hail coming in from the inner system,” Keller said. “No registry or callsign attached.”

“I see,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Please transmit our greeting to Agent Pike and ask him if we have clear skies back to Xi’an.”

“Yes, sir.”

While still going through the Vruahn data dump Jackson kept an eye on the mission clock above the main display that had started an elapsed time count the moment the ship had shuddered her way back into real space in the X-Ray System.

“Sir, a reply came back with a generic CIS transponder code requesting a private channel with you,” Keller said eventually. Jackson looked at the clock again: thirty-three minutes. Pike must be on the near side of the system, likely watching the jump point and waiting for them to pop out.

“Send it to my office, Lieutenant.” Jackson pushed himself up out of his seat with a certain amount of dread. If Pike was waiting for him to come back from the Zulu System it probably wasn’t for a congratulatory cheer; the CIS agent was much too valuable to his superiors to waste time sitting in an empty star system waiting for a few ships to straggle through.

“How did you know it was me?” Pike grinned widely on the display.

“Who else skulks around in the dark, harassing me at every turn?” Jackson settled into his seat. “What brings you all the way out here, Pike?”

“I’m mildly insulted by that,” Pike sniffed. “I see you’re not bringing all your ship back with you.”

“No, I’m not,” Jackson said. “I’m also not bringing back all of my squadron.”

“The
Icarus
?” Pike sat up quickly, causing Jackson to narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“No … the
Artemis
was lost with all hands in the opening shots of the battle,” Jackson said slowly. “But we were successful in our mission. Thanks for asking.”

“Yes, of course,” Pike composed himself. “Well done, Captain, and the loss of the
Artemis
is a huge price to pay. So is the Alpha still in the Zulu System?”

“I’ll fill you in later as well as send you a private copy of the report I’m filing with Admiral Marcum,” Jackson said. “It’s not so simple as bringing back a crippled Alpha, but to answer your question, we were successful and we didn’t leave anything alive in the Zulu System. So, not to be rude … but what the hell are you doing out here?”

“The usual,” Pike said. “Things have become a bit more complicated in the DeLonges System since you’ve left. The sky has been polluted with com drones as all the political wrangling has started up again. President McKellar has tried to reassert his authority from the Ark and, believe it or not, Earth has now entered the fray claiming that they are the de facto seat of power now that Haven is gone.”

“Funny, since Earth has no military power with which to exert their political will,” Jackson snorted. “I assume there’s much more going on behind the scenes within the enclaves to cause them to make such an absurd statement.”

“You betcha,” Pike said. “Anyway … Marcum asked me to come out here and give you warning that your name has been tossed around quite a bit in all the posturing.”

“He could have done that with a com drone,” Jackson said.

“I was also supposed to look for your remains if you were gone for too long,” Pike said.

“I’m flattered,” Jackson deadpanned. “Are you going to escort us all the way back?”

“You should be able to beat me back,” Pike reminded him.

“The whole squadron is pretty banged up,” Jackson shook his head. “We won’t be setting any records this flight. How about I forward you some files for the admiral and you get back to New Sierra and warn them that we’ll need at least two full-service berths.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Pike said with a crooked salute. “Anything else?”

“Just tell me we’re clear all the way back to Terran space and that will be enough.”

“Nothing simpler,” Pike shrugged. “You’ll have a nice boring flight all the way back. See you there.” The channel closed abruptly and Jackson couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Under any normal circumstances a personality like Pike’s would have grated on his nerves like a nuclear-powered belt sander, but after all their interactions he had to admit that he considered the quirky agent a friend.

The rest of the Ninth made it through the jump point and out to the Xi’an jump point in a sad, battered procession without incident. Jackson was just happy they were able to make it in a straight shot and the
Ares
was able to simply maintain velocity and not limp along ahead of the rest of the formation.

It was with a great sigh of relief from almost everyone aboard that they transitioned out of the Xi’an System and onto the last leg, albeit the longest one, before they would find safe harbor and be able to lick their wounds and properly mourn their comrades. Jackson stared at a live video feed of the stasis cube as the warp drive engaged, hoping the cost they had paid so far was worth the price of admission when the time came to use it.

****

“
Ares
, departing!”

Jackson walked down the gangway that had been attached to his ship after she’d been dragged into a fully enclosed maintenance dock by the harbor tugs. He felt much older than his forty-two years and a strong sense of dread as the reality of the coming campaign stretched out in front of him. The location of the core mind had been discovered, and it would take the Terran fleet nearly six months of hard flying to get there. It was so much further than their longest reaching exploration efforts had gone, and this wasn’t some tireless automated probe. This would be an entire armada made up of dissimilar warships, supply vessels, and over a hundred thousand spacers that would be exhausted from the journey before the fight even started.

“Senior Captain,” Admiral Marcum returned Jackson’s salute and stuck out his hand. “Welcome back and well done.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Jackson shook the proffered hand. “It’s certainly good to be back. You got the data I sent ahead?”

“I did,” Marcum nodded. “Along with your report. A terrible tragedy, losing the
Artemis
like that, but it wasn’t your fault. The strategy was sound.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m serious, Wolfe,” Marcum said as the pair turned to talk along the docking arm and out of earshot of the others filing off the destroyer. “Forrest knew the risks when she went along with the plan. I need you to move past this and be completely focused on what’s ahead of us.”

“I am, Admiral,” Jackson said. “But I must admit to having some misgivings about this. The simple logistics of it are—” He trailed off, trying to couch it as least offensively as possible.

“Impossible?” Marcum provided. “Absurd? Suicidal? Trust me, Captain … I’ve been hearing it from my advisory staff since you came back from Vruahn space. However, time is not on our side with this one. Yes, we could simply amass our fleet facing the direction of the Phage core mind and deploy a detection grid along the Frontier.

“Then we could wait. And wait. And wait. Now how long do you think we’d be able to maintain wartime footing like that? A year? Ten? Twenty? What does time mean to a species like the Phage? They’ll sit and watch, and wait, and when we let our guard down they’ll hit us so hard there won’t be any coming back from it. You know I’m right.”

“I do,” Jackson spit out. He wanted desperately to disagree with the admiral’s assessment, but the proof was in orbit right over his head. Complacency had led to a human martial force that was a military in name only. Black Fleet was supposed to be exactly what Marcum was referring to, and in the span of two generations it had turned into a dumping ground for worn-out people and equipment.

“I’m onboard, sir. It’s just been a long mission.”

“Understood,” Marcum nodded. “Let the crews here on facility get the
Ares
ready to fight again. I want your crew to take as much time off as they need.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Jackson said. “I’ll see that they’re well-rested, but I also don’t want them sitting around reflecting too much on what’s happened. I need to keep them busy and focused.”

“They’re your people. Do what you need to do, but make sure you’re all ready when the time comes. The Ninth will be the pointy end of the stick on this one … that means
you
will be the very tip of the spear. I need you at your best.”

Jackson watched the admiral walk away and felt sick to his stomach all over again. That there wasn’t anyone else far more qualified than he for the job in all of humanity scared the shit out of him. How many more times could he possibly get lucky and manage not to fail as completely as he knew he inevitably must? He felt that the admiral was rolling the dice one too many times by tossing him out in front and hoping that it would work out again.

****

The repairs to the
Ares
were accomplished at an astonishing speed. A lot of that had to do with Tsuyo having a large technical staff stationed permanently at the New Sierra Shipyards which included a group of engineers familiar with the particulars of the
Starwolf
-class ships. The main engines were actually fairly simple pieces of equipment, and a replacement had been manufactured and tested by the time the aft pylon had been repaired and the intricate, layered material of the hull had been fabricated to patch up the breaches caused by the original engine exploding.

What chewed up most of Jackson’s days in the beginning of the process were the Tsuyo reps wanting to rehash every detail of the engine failure that caused all the hull breaches. This was the first engagement that had really tested the new ships and there were mountains of data to pore through. Jackson appreciated that they at least pretended to be as concerned as he that the ship seemed have a glass jaw. They explained to him, again, that the hull was built to be able to absorb and dissipate the incredible heat of a Phage plasma blast, not shrug off kinetic strikes like the old
Raptor
-class destroyers. Jackson told them, again, that he fully understood that but a warship had to be able to handle debris impacts as well. It was the same conversation he’d had with them when the
Starwolf
-class was first coming out of development and into production, and in the end he was given the same patronizing nods and empty promises that they’d “look into it.”