No Way to Start a War (TCOTU, Book 2) (This Corner of the Universe) (9 page)

*  *  *

Truesworth’s
voice broke the silence on
Kite’s
bridge.  “The carriers are launching
now, Captain.”

The
tactical plot cluttered considerably as thirty new fighter symbols appeared every
minute.  The tiny dots buzzed around the larger carrier symbols like frenzied
insects before taking up formation and pacing the group.  “That’s quite a
sight,” Heskan muttered as he watched the ornate dance of the fighter launch.

“Excuse
me, Captain?” Vernay asked.  She pulled herself away from her own display,
still hard at work trying to devise a contingency missile defense maneuver.

“Nothing,
Stacy,” Heskan said as he waved her off. 
Once again, I am the only one with
nothing to do.  It’s remarkable that you work hard, show some ability and get
promoted only to have less work to do while fighting
. 
I understand I
have to be free to stay aware of the “big picture” but it’s vexing to just sit
here idle.

Ten
minutes later, the fighters from
Avenger
and
Eagle
had fully
launched. 
Kite’s
sensor section determined the total number was one
hundred sixty-six, short of the planned one hundred eighty. 
I guess the
other fourteen couldn’t launch for whatever reasons
. 
That’s still a
ninety-two percent fighter generation rate
, Heskan thought
.  That seems
pretty good for our very first combat launch but I wonder if the brass on those
carriers is satisfied.

The
fighters turned in near unison toward their destination, which was neither the
Hollaran fleet nor the Brevic missile fleet but a point halfway between them. 
Kite
and her consorts were still 22
lm
away from the Hollaran fleet but the
missile fleet had closed the range to 17
lm
.

“The
Hollies have to be seeing our missile fleet by now,” Truesworth insisted. 
“Assuming they launch their own fighters, we should be seeing the light from
the launch in ten minutes or less.”

We
should
, Heskan
agreed inwardly. 
There’s no reason not to launch their fighters since they
shouldn’t have any idea that we have our own carrier task group sitting just
outside their detection range.

“Captain,”
Vernay said, intruding on his thoughts, “can you take a look at this?”  She
flashed her proposal over to Heskan’s command chair display.

Heskan
opened the work and tried to make sense of the tangle of information.  He
stared at the contingency maneuver in confusion until he realized Vernay had
overlaid the simple maneuver with several layers of data: expected incoming
missile paths, expected incoming missile volumes, point defense weapon firing
arcs, automated defense missile interception assignments and several other
detailed coatings of data itemizing the possible advantages and disadvantages
of her proposed maneuver. 
Wow, Stacy did all this in an hour? 
He
stripped several layers away to look at the core maneuver. 
Hmm, Kite and Aspis
essentially pinch in toward the center and face a slightly different heading.
 
Wouldn’t that leave our corners of the square weak?
  He added some of
the informational layers Vernay had provided and saw that while weakened, the
addition of the change in facing helped unmask batteries on each ship’s far
side to compensate. 
Weakened, yes, but not completely open and with this
maneuver, the center is better protected.
 
It’s not a silver bullet but
if our center is getting overwhelmed, this gives us a viable option to
reinforce it without completely tearing apart the formation
.

Heskan
closed the window and looked toward his first officer.  “It looks good, Stacy. 
That’s fine work.”

“I
might be able to come up with something better if I had more time,” Vernay said. 
“I just hope we’re not so desperate that we have to use it.”

Truesworth
focused the optical array on the massive Hollaran carrier and broadcast the
time-late picture on the wall screen.  “Enemy fighter launch detected,” he
calmly said.  On the screen, the flash of tiny craft spewing from the Hollaran
carrier could be seen.  Fighter after fighter launched and updated immediately
on the companion wall screen with the tactical plot.

I
have to remember that what we’re watching happened
—Heskan checked the distance
between his fleet and the enemy—
twenty-two minutes ago
.  “Jack, don’t
lose sight of those fighters.  As soon as they start moving away from their
carrier we have to know if they’ve taken the bait.”  Truesworth nodded as a
bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.  This far out, the tiny craft
would be difficult to track.

Kite’s
bridge crew watched as the Hollaran
fighters launched and merged into precise formations.  When Truesworth’s count
of enemy fighters reached one hundred seventy-two, the fighter formations moved
in concert on an intercept course for the Brevic missile fleet.

There
were five distinct combat groups on the tactical display now.  Heskan’s own
Task Group 3.1 was still shadowing the Hollaran fleet outside their presumed detection
range.  The Brevic fighters were sprinting toward a point roughly equidistant
between the Hollaran force and the Brevic missile fleet.  Fourteen light-minutes
from the missile fleet, the massive Hollaran group was still headed ominously toward
Pan.  Surging away from the invaders, the Hollaran fighter force raced toward the
Brevic missile fleet, which had just reversed its course to sail directly away
from the enemy fighters at .12
c
.

Task
Group 2.2 could have fled from the fighters at a faster rate, but its speed had
been carefully calculated to give the Brevic fighters time to intercept the
enemy fighter force yet keep the missile fleet close enough to the Hollaran ships
to attack them before they could threaten Pan.  Over the next minutes, the tactical
situation stabilized as neither force made major course changes.  The Hollarans
were apparently happy to continue their advance on Pan, comfortable in the
knowledge that their fighters would eventually overhaul the retreating Brevic
defense force.  If there were any suspicions about a possible second, hidden
defense fleet or why the missile group was fleeing at only .12
c
instead
of the standard combat speed of .2
c
, they were indiscernible to Heskan.

The chess pieces set
in the fog of war remained in motion. 
Kite’s
tactical display revealed
the Hollaran fighters were an estimated 9
lm
from Task Group 2.2 and the
Brevic fighters, attempting their intercept, had closed to slightly over 5
lm
from their quarry.

*  *  *

The
quiet hum of her console was the only sound in Ensign Gables’ fighter.  The
entire fighter strike force, designated Strike Force A-1, was under communications
blackout so as not to alert any Hollaran sensorman.  Her Pup was just 13.5
lm
from the Hollaran fleet, certainly detectable. 
But are the Hollies even
looking for us and if so, will they be looking in the right location?
she
questioned.  The Pups had almost reached their missile launch point.  Minutes
ago, flight leadership had sent her eight “sensor points of interest” and she,
in turn, had transmitted four of those targets to her wingman.  The remaining
four SPIs assigned to her had been slaved to her missiles’ seeker heads with a
simple, two-second long forward press on her target management thumb switch.  Gables
re-verified that her craft’s four anti-fighter missiles were armed and focused
on their designated SPIs.  Like other missiles, the AFM had an effective
targeting range of 5
lm
and would need only ten minutes to cross that
distance at its max speed of .5
c
. 
The Hollie AFMs might be faster
but ours are more maneuverable,
she thought. 
At least that’s what they
told us at Flight Training
.

She
cracked her knuckles through her flight suit’s gloves as the distance counted
down.  The voice of C-flight’s leader, Lieutenant Walker, crackled over her
headset, “Lock and launch.”  Gables set her targeting computer to active mode
and an immediate high-pitched “growl” indicated her missiles had locked on to the
Hollaran fighters.  She exhaled and then depressed the AFM launch button and
the command-accept-execute trigger split between her flight controls simultaneously. 
Her Pup’s AFMs flew off their hardpoints unheard but with enough force to jolt
her F-3 four degrees off its course.  Inside the fighter, Gables jumped despite
herself but then made the necessary course correction to re-aim her Pup toward
the Hollaran fighter formation.

Of
the one hundred sixty-six Brevic fighters, one hundred sixty-three successfully
launched their anti-fighter missiles.  The other three fighters failed to
achieve missile separation, declared misfires and turned to head back to their
home carriers.  The remaining fighters, free of their cumbersome missile loads,
continued to race toward their adversaries unburdened.

On her
cockpit’s Tactical Awareness Display (TAD), Gables watched six hundred fifty-two
missiles streak away from her strike force. 
Surely the Hollies can’t have
missed that
, she thought. 
Stealth is pretty much out the airlock and
the only question now is whether the Hollie fighter jocks will have enough
warning to jettison their anti-ship missiles before we jump them.

Six minutes
later, Gables got her answer as her fighter’s heads-up display annotated tiny
objects departing the enemy fighters.  She knew the news was a mixed blessing. 
The enemy fighters, still too far to accurately launch their anti-ship missiles
at Task Group 2.2 but facing over six hundred incoming AFMs, had been faced with
a terrible decision.  Should they abort their anti-ship strike mission and
jettison their heavy missiles to increase their chances of evading the AFMs, or
should they keep their missiles and hope to survive long enough to launch them? 
In the end, self-preservation won out and the Hollaran fighters discarded their
unwieldy ASMs before beginning violent evasive maneuvers.  Had the Hollaran
pilots still been watching the Brevic missile fleet instead of the rapidly approaching
AFMs, they would have seen the fleet come about once more to face the enemy
while increasing its speed to .2
c
.

Gables
flew in silence for another five minutes as her missiles and Pup closed on the
enemy fighters.  Her targeting computer told her the Hollaran fighters were
pulling well over twenty G’s as they swung in three dimensions in an effort to
throw off the arriving AFMs. 
Even with their inertial compensators, those
guys must be close to passing out,
she hoped.  As the AFMs and Hollaran
fighters converged, the flashes of successful intercepts highlighted on her heads-up
display.

Of
the one hundred seventy-two Hollaran fighters, eighty percent had four Brevic missiles
tracking them with the remaining thirty-six fighters tracked by “only” three. 
Despite the overwhelming numbers, the Brevic AFMs blotted out just ninety-eight
fighters, merely a fifty-seven percent kill rate.  Scattered and shocked, the
surviving seventy-four Hollaran fighter pilots followed their instincts and
pointed toward the incoming Brevic fighter force, bent on revenge.

“We’ve
got some leakers, Robert,” Gables told her wingman. 
Leakers hell, more like
a flood.  We barely got half of them with our missiles,
Gables thought bitterly.

“I
should say so, Denise,” Lane responded.  “Be sure to throw a stunt during our
first pass.  No sense in giving them an easy shot.”

Gables
double-clicked her transmit button in acknowledgment.  Two minutes later, the
Brevic and Hollaran fighters merged.

Heskan
watched the fighter bounce play out 10
lm
in front of his ship.  The
swirling, twisting mass of two hundred fighters in such a small portion of
space threatened to overwhelm the capabilities of his ship’s sensors and their
operators.  As more and more individual fighter symbols began to overcrowd the tactical
display, he ordered Lieutenant Truesworth to simply designate the general area
of the dogfight and concentrate his section’s resources on updating the numbers
of remaining friendly and enemy fighters.

The entire
bridge watched those numbers tick down over the course of four minutes.  As the
last Hollaran fighters were destroyed, Vernay looked at the total losses and
stated, “Even with the outcome never in doubt, the Hollies really pounded our
guys.”

Heskan
agreed.  The dogfighting Hollarans had been outnumbered over two to one but
their fighters, which seemed more agile or perhaps their pilots more experienced,
had managed to destroy forty-three Brevic fighters.  “The skill of their pilots
is something, all right.  They had terrible odds and little time to prepare for
the dogfight and they still put up stiff resistance.”

Lieutenant
Truesworth replaced the dogfight circle on the tactical display with the
squadron of Brevic fighters, now returning to the carriers.  “It looks like one
hundred twenty fighters coming back to us now, sir.  They’re ten light-minutes
out with a point five-C closure rate making their ETA roughly...”  Truesworth
rapidly typed on his console before speaking again.  “Roughly twenty minutes, sir,
assuming neither the carriers nor fighters change course or velocity.”

“Little
chance of that,” Vernay remarked.  “The Hollie fleet will have to react now
that they’ve lost their fighters and know for certain there are Brevic carriers
in the system.”

“They
also have our missile fleet bearing down on them,” Heskan added.  “With the
successful fighter sweep, the plan calls for our missile ships to stay just
outside missile range and pace them while the fighters land and rearm.  Then we
launch a second strike and the fighters and missile ships hit them in
concert.”  Heskan noted the missile fleet had closed the range to 9.5
lm
.

The
silence on the bridge resumed.  The section officers attended to their duties
while Heskan drummed his fingers nervously on the arm of his command chair.  He
once again looked over the formation of the carrier task force paying special
attention to the position of each escort. 
Is there anything I’m missing? 
Some small advantage we can take?

Fifteen
minutes into his review, the tactical display beeped urgently and Truesworth
called out, “Movement!  The Hollie fleet is reorganizing.”

Heskan
looked away from his console and stared at the optical display on the main wall
screen, trying to make sense of the shuffle of warships within the Hollaran
fleet. 
Almost looks like they’re separating…

Five
minutes later the sensor picture became clearer.

“What
do you make of that, Stacy?”  Heskan asked as he pointed to the optical.

Vernay
sat back as she considered the spectacle.  “I’m seeing three distinct forces,
Captain.”  She typed into her console and flashed information over to the
sensorman.  “Jack, can you update with this info, please?”  The tactical
display changed from one massive formation of Hollaran ships to three smaller
formations.  Each formation bore a new name:  Main, Vanguard and Carrier. 
Vernay used her lite-stylus to highlight the force marked “Main.”

“This
force,” Vernay explained, “seems to constitute the bulk of their battle-line
ships.  My guess is that it’s going to serve the same function as our own
missile task group.  You’ll notice, sir, that it hasn’t changed course and is
still headed toward Pan.”

Chief
Brown spoke up from behind Heskan.  “Yeah, they gotta keep the pressure on Pan
or we’ll have all the time in the world to engage ‘em with our fighters an’
they won’t even be able to fight back.”

Vernay’s
head bobbed.  “Exactly, Chief.  So the Main force keeps the attack going while—”
Vernay highlighted the “Carrier” force, “—the Hollies try to get their presumably
empty carrier out of the system safely.”  Vernay then marked the “Vanguard”
force as she concluded, “And this smaller missile fleet, I believe it’s
basically the same group of ships that led the dive into Sponde, escorts the
carrier out in the event we try to close on it.”

“The
question is,” Selvaggio asked, “will we use our fighters to attack their empty
carrier or to attack the missile force threatening Pan?  We won’t have time to
do both.”

That
certainly is the question and countless lives depend on its answer
, Heskan thought
.  We need to
kill that carrier.  It would tip the balance of power in this sector of the
disputed zone, but would fleet leadership risk the lives of hundreds of
thousands of citizens on Pan to go for the carrier?
  Heskan looked at the
fleet compositions of Task Group 2.2 and the Hollaran Main force, tilting his
head to one side. 
We have one more ship but the Hollies have a battleship which
more than makes up for that.  We can’t risk letting them through to Pan.  The
safe bet is to defend Pan by combining our fighters with the missile ships into
one brutal strike against that Main force
.

Truesworth
spoke before Heskan could respond to Selvaggio’s question.  “Incoming message, Captain. 
It’s from Bulwark.”

“Here
comes our answer, Diane.  Put it on the screen,” Heskan said as he unconsciously
leaned forward. 
Interesting.  If we were going to continue the plan, there
wouldn’t be need for a message.
 

A
wide-eyed and fidgeting Durmont appeared.  “Attention, CortRon Fifteen, uh,
this is your commander.” 
He really needs to stop saying that in every
message.  After this engagement, I’ll try to tactfully tell him the more he calls
himself the commander, the less it sounds like he believes it.

“Task
Group Three-One is going after that Hollie carrier so expect course change orders
at the end of this message.  Avenger’s CAP is rearming for anti-ship operations
and will launch, um, in about twenty minutes against the carrier as well.  Keep
your ships on station, Bulwark remains the squadron flagship.  Durmont out.”

Heskan
looked over to Chief Brown.  “I’m kind of surprised we’re going after that
carrier, Chief.  Does our missile fleet have enough to stop the Main force?”

Brown
shrugged and replied, “They got some damaged escorts which means more of our
missiles should get through than theirs but it’s a pretty even fight.”  Brown
got up from his station and walked over to Heskan’s chair to stand between the
captain and first officer.  “Truth be told, Capt’n, I kind of expected it.  I
bet Admiral Hayes has orders to take out any Hollie carrier we run into at nearly
any cost.”

“Even
risking civilians, Chief?”  Heskan asked dubiously.

Brown
looked almost remorseful.  “Even civvies, Capt’n.  I guess Bree leadership
figures that carrier will do a lot more damage if we let it go than what can be
done to Pan.”

Heskan
understood it was a matter of triage but still disliked the chief’s answer
because he knew just how much damage even a few surviving ships with fusion
missiles could do to a planet.  He looked past Chief Brown and saw Vernay’s
contemptuous expression.

“It’s
not right to potentially write off a planet just because of what
might
be done later,” she muttered.

Brown
turned to face her.  “Right or wrong, even doctors have to sort through the
casualties an’ let some die so they can save others, ma’am.”

“It’s
wrong,” she answered simply.

Brown
smiled knowingly and put his hand on her shoulder.  “I’d expect you to say that
right now, L-T.  But someday you might be sayin’ somethin’ different when
you’re an admiral.”

I
hope not
, Heskan
thought adamantly. 
I agree with Stacy on this one
. 
Why are we
sailing away from the civilians we’re supposed to be defending and chasing
Hollies already running out of the system?  Nevertheless, I might be overreacting
given the past.  It’s not as if we’re abandoning Pan completely… our missile
fleet can probably defend them
.

“Captain,
I have a course change,”  Selvaggio said, breaking up the debate.  “We’re
coming about and matching the Hollie carrier’s course and speed.  We’ll be
sailing parallel to them about eleven light-minutes apart.”

“Maintain
our position in the squadron,” Heskan ordered.  He looked at the returning
fighters on the tactical display.  They were only 1.5
lm
from the
carriers but with the greatly reduced closure rate of .1
c
given the
group’s course change. 
Fifteen more minutes before they’re close enough to
start landing.
  Task Group 2.2 was still closing on the Hollaran Main
force. 
They’re six light-minutes apart and will be able to start throwing
missiles at each other at five light-minutes.  For better or for worse, we’ll
know how that battle goes in about twenty minutes
.  The first feelings of anxiety
began to hit Heskan.  While watching the dogfight, he had been calm, almost
mechanical.  The vicious small craft battle had seemed unreal, as he had merely
watched the total count of fighters diminish.  Not so with the impending
missile combat destined to take place behind him
.  I’ve been in that position
before.  I know the dread both sides are feeling right now, the uncertainty of knowing
their ship can do everything right but bad luck can still conspire to kill the
crew
.  He felt his stomach churn at his thoughts. 
I hate this.  Damn
the Hollarans for coming here, and damn them for starting this war
.

Heskan’s
eyes remained riveted to the tactical screen as he watched Task Group 2.2 close
to 5
lm
with the enemy.  He remained on edge as he counted down the
distance between the two combatants even though he knew he was watching events
that had happened minutes ago given the distance between his ship and the combating
missile fleets.

Gasps
echoed around the bridge as the battle group launched its initial missile
salvo.  Task Group 2.2’s dreadnaught, four command cruisers, missile-converted
tug, four heavy cruisers and two light cruisers simultaneously fielded three
hundred sixty missiles that streaked outward from their formation.  The flashes
from the drives were like a celebratory display that dispersed toward the
Hollaran fleet.  In response, the Hollaran ships had belched three hundred
fifty missiles.  Just twenty seconds later, both fleets hurled their second
salvos.  Neither side held back, each firing over one thousand missiles per
minute.  Five minutes later, when each fleet’s missile magazines ran dry, over
ten thousand missiles raced across space toward their targets.

Kite’s
standard missile defense
software worked overtime to track the onslaught.  Inside
Kite’s
Main
Sensor Control Room, the heat generated from her defense control computers elevated
the room temperature nearly ten degrees despite
Kite’s
life-support
systems working hard to maintain a constant environment.  Each incoming missile
was identified as a new Hollaran “Greyhound” anti-ship missile and every light-second
of its path was tracked in an effort to determine its ultimate target.  The
missiles’ emissions were observed and recorded as
Kite’s
electronic
countermeasures (ECM) section labored to define the best ECM program to counter
the threats.  Even though these missiles had nowhere near the range required to
threaten
Kite
or her task group, Heskan had instructed Truesworth to
behave as if any attack was one against the CortRon.  “Your section can always
use the practice, Jack, and plotting defense against actual attacks is the best
practice there is,” he had told the junior grade lieutenant.

The salvos
launched, Heskan watched as the enormous hulls of the Brevic ships began one
hundred eighty degree rotations to face away from the enemy.  The escorts,
smaller and more maneuverable than the behemoth capital ships, completed coming
about nearly twenty seconds before their consorts but waited stoically before
lighting off their drives to stay in proper formation.  By the time the Brevic
dreadnaught finally completed its turn, the Hollaran Greyhound missiles had
drawn 47
ls
closer at a closure speed of nearly .78
c
.  Massive
Allison-Turner T-88 drives touched off to begin their valiant fight against
inertia and the closure rates between ships and missiles began to drop even as
the stresses inside each ship climbed.  Inertial compensators red-lined
throughout the fleet for two minutes as Task Group 2.2 killed their forward
velocity toward the Hollaran fleet and achieved .2
c
in the opposite
direction.  During this time, the missiles clawed another 70
ls
closer.

Heskan
admired the precise station-keeping of the group’s escorts.  They had patiently
maintained their positions inside the formation despite being nearly
defenseless with most of their point defense weapons masked to the missiles. 
They
have to be itching to make their final turns
, Heskan thought.  A quick
glance over to the Hollaran missiles showed they were slightly over 3
lm
from their targets. 
They have about eight minutes before they’ll enter
their point defense envelopes.  That should be plenty of time to reorient and
unmask their weapons to the missiles.
  He had seen the standard tactic of a
fleet turning away from an incoming missile attack to reduce closure rates
backfire in exercises before.  A malfunction of a drive or thruster or a
miscalculation by a helmsman could send a formation into disarray, resulting in
a severely compromised defensive umbrella for the entire group.  In this
instance, the gamble had paid off for both fleets.  The reduced closure rates
meant critical extra seconds for AMS turrets to do their job.