Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike (43 page)

Sean looked at her for a moment, wanting to
protest, to demand that he be allowed to stay at his post. 
But my post is
nothing in this battle.  Everything has run fine without me. 
Sean nodded
and let her lead him away, the other men and women of the detail forming up
around them in the corridor.  There were some Marines in the corridor as well,
looking all directions to ward off any threat to their Emperor.  The corridor
was otherwise empty, everyone else on the ship at their battle stations.

“We need to hurry, your Majesty,” said the
woman, keeping him moving until they got to the sealed hatch near his
quarters.  At least it had been sealed, up until this moment.  Now it was wide
open, as was the hatch inside the three meters of open space.  And inside of
that was his special ejection capsule, with three acceleration couches waiting.

“In you go, Sir,” said the woman.   “And
hurry.”

“Missile impact in two minutes,” called out the
voice over the intercom.

Sean patted the woman on the arm.  “Thank you,
Catherine.  And get your people to their own pods.”

Sean walked into the capsule and fell into one
of the couches, letting it strap his suit in.  Two of the Marines, a Sergeant
and a Corporal, followed him in and fell into their couches, slapping their
particle beam rifles into the racks provided.  The hatch sealed closed, leaving
Sean and the two Marines alone.

Kind of silly sending a pair of Marines to
guard me
,
he thought, linking into the ship through the pod’s interface. 
If we get
picked up by an enemy, there isn’t a whole lot they can do, except die beside
me.
  He slapped the pistol holstered by his side, imagining using it if he
was picked up by the Cacas, making them kill him so he didn’t become some kind
of hostage.

The missiles were on the way in, on final
approach.  Every escort was jamming for all it was worth, doing all they could
to mask the heavy cruiser.  The
Manila
herself was oriented to put him
into space on a path that would hopefully avoid all the debris if multiple
ships were shattered.

Twenty light cruisers and fifty destroyers,
most of them specialized anti-missile ships, were firing for all they were
worth at the incoming missiles.  Forty of those ships were interposed between
the enemy weapons and the flagship, while the other thirty were further to
spinward.  They were still targeted by the enemy missiles, but most of the
counter fire was directed toward the missiles that could end up targeting the
flag.  Only the weapons they couldn’t bring to bear for the protection of
Manila
were firing in their own defense.  Even the carriers were firing everything
they had at the missiles coming at the flag squadron, ignoring their own
defense.

Sean took a moment to look around the pod,
which was much more advanced than the standard model, with three meters of
armor and its own electromag field.  When he had been told about it, he had
insisted that in the future all pods be improved, if not to this standard, then
at least enough to significantly improve the chances of his spacers.  Then his
attention was again taken elsewhere.

And I’m to blame for this, again
, thought Sean,
watching as the missiles got to the one minute mark, at which time every ship
in the force fired a couple volleys of offensive missiles, followed by plasma
torps, getting the final defensive fire out.  Every one opened up with hundreds
of projectile cannon, the rounds set to explode a light second out and fill
space with metal.

Sean dismissed the thought, and the blame.  He
was supposed to be here.  He was the rallying point for the Fleet, and everyone
had tried their hardest to keep him out of the thick of it.  But the enemy had
used one of their own tricks against them, and no one was to blame for that. 
Even if they had thought this was going to happen, space out here was too vast
to sweep for ships laying cold.

The missiles the Imperial ships had fired were
now detonating, each sending out a hundred one megaton submunitions in a spray
that detonated seconds later.  Lasers were acquiring missiles, blowing them out
of space with a moment’s contact.  The lack of graviton tracking was affecting
the targeting, and they were getting fewer hits than normal.  But still
hundreds of enemy missiles were dropping off the plot.

Someone was thinking in the fleet that day. 
Every ship launched scores of countermeasures that sent a signal out to the
missiles that mimicked those of the radar striking the vessels.  Every ship
projected holograms into space that mimicked their shapes to the visual sensors
of the missiles.  Jamming peaked.  In a normal environment this tactic would
have had some effect.  In an environment without graviton tracking it was
devastatingly effective.

Incoming missiles locked on returns that were
nothing more than small decoys, or were confused by the visual garbage that
filled space.  Most of them, the four hundred some odd that made it through the
defensive fire, went for proximity kills of objects that were actually much
smaller than the target they thought they were going after.  One light cruiser
and three destroyers still took direct hits, shattering from the impact. 
Twelve other ships, including
Manila
, took damage from proximity strikes
that released heat and radiation into their hulls.  And the hyper VII carrier
Zokoku
,
the flag of its task group, was left dead in space after five near misses.  And
then the missile storm was past, a couple of score clear misses sailing off
into space.

The klaxons died, and a moment later the
hatches leading to the pod opened, revealing a smiling Catherine Mays.

“It’s so good to see you again, Senior Agent,”
said Sean, walking out of the capsule.

“It’s good to be seen, your Majesty,” said the
smiling Agent.

“Kelso.  What’s going on?” he sent over his com
link.

“We backtracked those missiles and located the
launching platforms,” said the Admiral.  “Lenkowski is dispatching some ships
to bring them to task.”

“Take them out from range, if possible,” said
Sean, running back into his control room and pulling up the tactical holo.  “I
don’t want to lose any more people than need be.”

He looked at the holo as it came back up,
breath sucking in as he saw what was going on at the moment.  The
Elysium/Klashak force was trading missiles with the enemy inner system force. 
Lenkowski’s main force was closing on the primary enemy fleet, trading missiles
along the way.  And two more of his outer groups were under missile attack from
the enemy hidden in the Kuiper belt.  “And let those two groups under attack
know how to handle that attack.  They might do even better than we did in their
own defense.”

*    
*     *

SUPERBATTLESHIP
ANASTASIA
ROMANOV.

Lenkowski was staring at his own tactical holo
as his ships moved within beam range of the enemy.  The missile exchange had
not gone his way, and he had lost many more ships than the simulations had
shown he would.  The enemy was grievously wounded as well, but still had more
beam based firepower than he did.

Just wish I had a couple of the superheavy
units
,
he thought, as
Anastasia Romanov
shook from another particle beam hit. 
One of his standard battleships exploded, having taken more than her systems
could stand.  A heavy cruiser, then a couple destroyers followed suit.  Moments
later a Caca superbattleship blew.

Looking at the figures, Len was not sure how
much of a command he would have when he flew through the enemy formation.  He
was pretty sure they would have more, just as he was sure that the rest of the
Imperial ships in the system would put paid to whatever enemy were left alive
after he was gone. 
Not that it will do any of the crews of this task group
any good.  I should have come in through hyper and dropped into normal space
just outside the barrier, just like the last task group had done
.  That
group had almost killed its forward velocity in an attempt to come back out and
attack again, and was currently exchanging missiles with the Cacas. 
And now
it’s too late to jump, since we’ll be crossing the barrier any second now.

“We’re taking a pounding, sir,” said the ship’s
Captain over the com.  “Do you want us to switch over to accelerate through
them?”

“No, dammit,” growled Len as the ship shuddered
again.  “Continue decel.  We need to extend this engagement out as much as
possible, hurt them as much as we can.”

“Yes, sir,” said the Captain, looking not happy
at all about the order, but obeying it.

“Sir,” said the Fleet Tactical Officer.  “The
Margravi ships are accelerating.”

“They’re what?” blurted Lenkowski, looking at
the tactical holo that showed the almost hundred vessels of the allied task
force putting on the gees.  “Get me their admiral on the com.”

A moment later he found himself looking into
the spider like face of the alien commander.  “What are you doing, Admiral?”
asked Lenkowski, realizing that he was actually talking to the entire linked
crew of that battleship, represented by this one member.

“We are doing what is necessary, Admiral,” said
the alien.  Its eyes clamped shut for a moment as the bridge behind it shook. 
Len could see the confusion in the six eyes, a sign that casualties had
occurred aboard the ship, and the group mind was having to readjust.  “We are
not important, except as the defenders of our species, and through them, our
allies.  So we are striking in the only way that assures success.”

They’re going to ram
, thought Lenkowski. 
Dear
God, no.  They can’t do that.
  “Admiral.  As your commanding officer, I
order you to go back into deceleration mode and stick with the fleet.”

“And as an allied commander, we must refuse
that order, Admiral, and do what we must.”

The com went blank, and even though Lenkowski
called for his Com Officer to get them back, he knew it wouldn’t happen.  The
insectoids, who really had little in the way of individual identity, respected
the singular minds of their fellow beings.  And saw no choice but to sacrifice
themselves to save those minds.

Len sat back and watched the tactical holo, as
ship after ship from both sides dropped off, while the viewers showed their
massive explosions in space.  And on his right flank the Margravi ships pulled
ahead, aiming for the enemy vessels in a suicide charge.  Several of the
Margravi vessels exploded under enemy fire, small destroyers, followed by some
cruisers.  Then they started to strike, a cruiser plowing into a
superbattleship, a destroyer into a supercruiser.  All hundred of the Margravi
ships died.  Fifty-three struck targets, in most cases larger than they were,
and the Ca’cadasan left flank dissolved into nothing.

*    
*     *

“Get us out of here,” yelled the Great Admiral,
watching as the enemy ships did the unthinkable and took out his entire left
flank in a suicide charge.  “Order the fleet to retreat.”  He felt panic
running through him. 
I was supposed to be the conqueror, and they have
thwarted me at every turn.
  He couldn’t even swear revenge against these
creatures.  His resources were used up, while there seemed no end to the
humans.

“Where would we go, my Lord,” asked the Helm
Officer, while the Com Officer looked back at him with confusion.

“Away from here.  We need to gain space and get
into hyper, so we have a chance at running.”

The Helm Officer gave a head motion of
agreement and started working his board. 
There is no chance of running
,
thought the Great Admiral. 
But it’s either that, or stay here and die.

“Get me the commanders of my task groups on the
com,” he told the Com Officer, then waited for the well-known visages to appear
on com holos surrounding him.  “This is what we are going to do, my leaders,”
he told them, then outlined the plan that would sacrifice most of them, so that
his ship and a force of escorts would get away.

*    
*     *

“Enemy ships are accelerating, your Majesty,”
called out Kelso.

Sean nodded his head as he watched the tactical
holo that showed the Ca’cadasan ships, what were left of them, vectoring away
from Lenkowski’s force at their maximum acceleration. 
The Margravi panicked
them
, he thought, still unable to get the images of the vessels of his
allies sacrificing themselves to achieve victory out of his mind.

“Any way we can stop them?” he asked, watching
as missile icons continued to move back and forth between the forces.

“I don’t see how, your Majesty,” said Kelso. 
“Lenkowski still might be able to kill some of their ships.  In fact, I would
say it’s a sure thing he’ll continue killing them.  But a lot of them are going
to get away.”

“I want their flagship stopped.  Have we
identified it?”

“We think we have, your Majesty.  But it’s
surrounded by other vessels.”

“Send out an order to stop it, at all costs,”
said Sean, clenching his fists.  “At all costs, Admiral.  I want their leader,
alive if possible, but definitely he is not to leave the system.”