Hunt for the Saiph (The Saiph Series Book 3) (28 page)

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CARRIER STRIKE GROUP ITUS - GATEWAY STATION - SOL SYSTEM

“Admiral on the bridge!” Called the first officer to spot Vice Admiral John Radford as he strode on to the Flag Bridge of the TDF’s first operational carrier, TDF Itus.

Although not quite as big as the Bismarck class battleships each of the Colossus class carriers could do something a Bismarck could not. The Itus could launch the Mosquito space fighter and was home to seventy two of the deadly two-seaters.

John seated himself and activated the repeater displays which showed him all of the strike group’s available information. The strike group was rapidly moving to battle stations in reaction to the flagship’s signal. John spared a look at the fleet’s readiness state. His eight Bismarcks were slower to react than the smaller cruisers and destroyers but one by one there status updated with green lights by their names.

“What do we have, Tactical?”

“Sir, eight minutes ago Gateway Station received a flash signal from the Rosa Island a Lynx cruiser and the lead ship in Independent Cruiser Squadron 1.6.4. The squadron is conducting a port visit in the Guzman system. They say that four suspected Black Ships have entered the system. The squadron commander is unsure if the Black Ships are aware of his presence but he has moved his ships into positions to intercept any move on the colony.”

“Thank you. Strike group status?” Asked John as he caught sight of Captain Taw entering the bridge and making for the flight operations team. The female Benii’s long legs ate up the distance in easy steps.

Retaining a Benii as his Commander Air Group, CAG, in charge of his six fighter squadrons had ruffled a few feathers. But, the Benii had a wealth of experience in carrier and fighter tactics and to John it seemed the height of stupidity not to exploit her expertise, especially as the Itus was a carbon copy of the Benii carriers.

Built around a central flight deck used to recover the fighters and launch and recover the larger shuttle type craft. The Mosquito fighters launched from four rows of launch tubes, two top side port and starboard. A further two were located lower side port and starboard. A design which should mitigate any damage to a single area of the ship impacting on flight operations.

“All ships report ready, sir.”

“CAG, how are we doing?”

“Alert fighters are in the tubes and ready to fly, Admiral. Alert plus ten are moving into the tubes now and we’re generating a full anti-shipping strike. I recommend we hold position until the strike package is complete, then we can launch in a single flight rather than in separate waves. Fifteen minutes to launch ready.”

“Understood, CAG.” John tapped commands into his chair and a schematic of the Guzman system appeared in his holo cube. He overlaid the downloaded information from the Rosa Island on to it. Four red icons appeared behind Planet III, while four blue icons representing the TDF cruisers, appeared behind the second moon of the colony world.  John assumed the Black Ships were still behind Planet III and had not already made their move and engaged the defending cruisers. Fifteen minutes was a long time onboard a cruiser that was out gunned by an enemy ship with Saiph energy shields.

John glanced at the image of the flight deck displayed in the holo cube above flight operations. He saw Mosquito fighters being armed as quickly as humanly possible, the pilots sat in their cockpits as the ground crew maneuvered them into their launch tubes.

At the far end of the flight deck he saw the wavering energy field that kept the vacuum of space from engulfing the entire deck but allowed transit from the outside such as recovering fighters or shuttles. A Benii invention. Unfortunately neither the Benii nor the scientists of Zarminda had yet perfected the sort of energy shielding the Saiph were able to employ, therefore, during combat operations a pair of massive battle armored doors sealed the flight deck.

John raised his head from the display, a drop in the steady hum of words between various stations alerted him to the entrance of Major Olaz, the Empire of Alona’s military exchange observer or spy, and, as always two steps behind, the imposing figure of marine brevet Major Vanderhoek.

In different circumstances John would have found amusement in the exchange program which paired a six foot four, 240 pound marine with a five foot two ninety eight pound Alonan.

The Alonan and marine had been a constant presence on the flag bridge since their arrival two months ago. John had always wondered how the marine knew exactly when, and where, the Alonan intelligence operative would want to go next. Later! Thought John, I have a battle to win. 

Another set of commands and the space around the colony and Planet III was covered in overlapping spheres… just. John sent the data from his terminal to Tactical.

“Tactical. Review the data I’ve just sent you. I want a cruiser equipped with a dampening field generator assigned to each of those spheres. We must hold the Black Ships in the system until we can close and engage. Assign a single Bismarck and an Ageis to each cruiser. If that generator was the only thing preventing me from escaping the system I would take it out.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

“Navigation, plot a course for the remainder of the group. I want us to come out half way between the colony and Planet III. CAG, what’s the flight time of your birds from there to the Black Ships last known location?”

“Fifty Six minutes,” Taw mentally calculated, “on super cruise, leaving them forty minutes of combat operations over the target with sufficient fuel to return safely without tanker support.”

On John’s display the tactical team’s revised ops plan popped up. Each of the disruption sphere’s location and separation had been refined and ships assigned to each as he instructed. A flashing diamond indicated the task groups expected arrival coordinates.

John’s brain went into over drive as he refined his tactical options, spitting data packets to the tactical section as he ran through the likely moves of his enemy and how he would counter them.  The planning teams of CSG Itus had gamed out hundreds of scenarios over the last six months and John adapted these, on the fly, to best fit what awaited him in Guzman.

The precious minutes flew by. Ground crew rushed to get the carrier’s fighters ready to launch. After an age, the orotund voice of Taw cut across the flag bridge. “Strike package complete, sir. Birds are in the tubes and ready to launch.”

John’s head came up, his eyes flicked to the chronometer before settling on the Benii standing proudly by her operations team. “A full strike package ready with four minutes to spare, CAG. Very impressive.” John took one more look around the flag bridge before flexing his fingers on his armrests. Time to see if the faith Admiral Jing had in the carrier strike group concept would bear fruit.

“Navigation,
Itus
will fold on your mark.”

“Aye-aye, sir. Fold in five…four…three…two…one…Fold!”

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GUZMAN SYSTEM - 47.5 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH

In one moment the space between the Guzman colony and Planet III was empty, in the next, space was filled with millions of tonnes of battle armored warships. As the ships of CSG Itus positioned themselves and their sensors swept the system, Itus was pinged by a communications whisker laser.

“Admiral, we’re receiving a data stream from the Rosa Island… it’s a relay feed from a surveillance drone they have skulking in the dark side of Planet III… There’s four cruiser size vessels in low orbit, they’re Black Ships!”

The blood red icons of the four Black Ships sprang into life in John’s tactical display. “How old is the data, Tactical?”

The commander checked his display and confirmed, “Four point three minutes, sir.”

Ok we can do this, thought John.

“Communications. Signal the dampening field ships to begin transmitting immediately. I don’t want those ships able to fold out of here. Tactical. We’ll go with Savannah Two.”

A press of a stud on his armrest and the head and shoulders of Vice Admiral Gregory Rowe, commander of the strike group’s battleships entered the holo cube in front of John. “Greg I’m going with Savannah Two. Assume command of the ships approaching from system north, I’m taking those from system south. My fighters are launching now…”

John raised his eyes to Captain Taw and gave her a single curt nod, the Benii spun and began issuing orders. Seventy-two Mosquito space fighters spat into space, formed up and accelerated toward the unseen enemy ships.

“We need to be smart, Greg. They might only be cruisers but they have those damned energy shields, but, if we pummel them hard enough we know they fail. With the dampening fields flooding the system we’ve effectively taken out their long range fold missiles…” John scowled.  “However, it’s a double edged sword and we must close with them to bring our conventional missiles and energy weapons into play.”

Greg Rowe was no fool, he knew a bloody battle was imminent. “Don’t worry, Admiral. They’re messing with the TDF and it’s high time we taught them the error of their ways.”

Despite himself John smiled at his subordinate’s remark. “I like your thinking, Greg. Good luck and good hunting.” Terminating the link John sat back in his chair as the Itus surged forward at full power following in the wake of her fighters.

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Commander Bo checked her instruments, as her Mosquito and the other eleven fighters that made up VFA-101, ‘The Mailed Fists’, skimmed at barely a few hundred meters above the cloudy, toxic atmosphere of Planet III. They were closing fast on the last reported location of the Black Ships.

“How are we doing back there, Charlie?”

“Everything is looking good, Commander. The clutter from the atmosphere should mask us until we get within missile range. Assuming the ships are still where we think they are.”

Bo glanced down at her display which showed virtually real time coverage from the surveillance drone, now that they were close to their target. Yeah, they’re still hovering less than five minutes from us, Bo thought.

Charlie was back on the intercom. “Radar horizon breach in thirty seconds… ECM coming online…weapons systems all in the green.”

Bo activated the link to the other Mosquitos under her command. “Mailed Fists. Mailed Fists lead. Weapons hot! Remember we need to get in real close to do the damage. Stay in your pairs and watch your backs. Follow me in!” Bo forced her throttles to the fire walls and the Mailed Fists lunged forward, closely followed by every Mosquito of CSG Itus.

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John Radford was on the edge of his seat as the Itus cleared Planet III and he got his first good look at his quarry. His tactical holo display was filled with flashes of energy weapons as the enemy cruisers flayed at the swarming Mosquitos.

Missiles designed to seek and destroy the large ship killers, fired by capital ships, filled the space around the cruisers but the agile Mosquitos darted between them and released their own smaller, less powerful missiles before strafing the enemy with their rapid fire plasma cannon and needle lasers.

Green energy shields flashed in near constant brilliance as time and again the Mosquitos’ weapons hit home. Unfortunately, it was plainly obvious that the small fighter’s weapons were not powerful enough to penetrate the enemy’s shields. Well, thought John, let’s see how they do against the big boys.

“Tactical. Fire Plan Gamma. Concentrate fire on two enemy cruisers only, Admiral Rowe will get the other two.

CAG, recall and rearm your fighters. The Black Ships know we have capital ships in the system, I fully expect them to make a break for it and clear the disruption generator bubble. Your fighters must be available to chase them down if we can inflict significant damage on their shields.”

The battleships and cruisers of CSG Itus launched their first wave of conventionally powered missiles toward the static Black Ships. The Terran missiles closed on the enemy cruisers and flashes of coherent light came from the targeted ships as they flushed their own anti-missile missiles in reply, an attempt to beat back the avalanche of nuclear tipped warheads bearing down on them.

Missiles crossed and inter penetrated as space was filled with explosions large enough to wipe any earthly city from existence, but, as the plasma cleared, the four Black Ships remained unscathed.

Then, three of the cruisers gathered momentum and slowly moved off, leaving their sole squadron mate in orbit. John slapped his hand hard on his armrest, causing a few furtive looks from his bridge officers before they quickly returned to their duties.

A feral grin spread across the admiral. One down, three to go, thought John. “CAG, how long before you’re ready to launch a second strike?”

“Twenty minutes, Admiral.” Replied Taw as she continued to coordinate the mosquito recovery operation.

John stared at his tactical display. The remaining three Black Ships were accelerating for all they were worth, pulling clear of the battleships’ and cruisers’ weapons range.

He had gambled on the enemy being primarily equipped with long-range fold powered anti-ship missiles, leaving the smaller short range anti-missile missiles to fend off his own heavy missiles. Frustratingly, however, his gamble hadn’t quite paid off, he needed to buy another twenty minutes so his fighters could re-engage.

“Tactical. Detail two cruisers to continue the bombardment of the stranded enemy ship, then send our destroyers in pursuit of the other three. Primary target is the enemy ship’s engines. We need to slow them down.”