On Silver Wings (29 page)

USS Montana

Inner Hayden System

“Relief Convoy has begun final approach, Sir.”

Admiral Shepherd spared a glance at the plot before nodding, “Well wish them luck. We’ve got enough problems on our own plate at the moment.”

“Aye Sir.”

Shepherd glared at the tactical plot, eyes drawn inexorably to the red icon that showed where the New York had died.
Three gone. Three ships down, so damned fast. Only one enemy in return.

If he wasn’t so damned hard up for time, he’d cry.

“Sir, Indiana reports solid lock on Bandit Two.”

“Tell them to fire at their discretion.”

“Aye Sir.”

The Indiana was leading the Montana in against the bandit, still accelerating as it bore down on the enemy ship. Bandit two was the ship that took out the New York, just a dozen minutes earlier and was now pulling hard gees as it tried to come around in their direction.

Shepherd could only assume that it was bringing its weapon to bear on the Montana and the Indiana.

I guess that makes this a race then.

“Indiana reports weapons away!”

“Missiles live on the plot, Sir!”

“I see them.” Shepherd confirmed, eyes watching the icons of the Indiana’s one shot load of missiles track across his screen.

The enemy ship, which had been turning into the Montana and Indiana’s plot, peeled away. Shepherd’s lips pulled back into a nasty smile, that was the second time the enemy had shown their broadsides to a missile barrage. Against an attack like that, when one couldn’t avoid it, Shepherd personally would turn his bow into the attack and bull through.

You would take hits, to be sure, but under power you could cut through the wave of missiles and present them with a minimum profile to attack in terminal mode. For a missile commander, the dream was to catch your opponent running broadside on to your attack.

So, either they’re not too bright… which seems unlikely,
Shepherd admitted,
or they’ve no experience with missiles at all. Fair enough, we’ve no experience with their gravity valve technology. At least we’re on even footing somewhere.

He studied the plot for a moment, eyes widening as he realized that the remaining Bandits courses had shifted to bring them closer to one another. Along with them, the five remaining ships of his Task Force were closing together as well. He pursed his lips, considering the plot for a few instants before making his decision.

“This is Admiral Shepherd to all ships,” He said, noting the time code on his plot. “Commence Full Court Rush at precisely Oh Three Fifteen, ship’s time. I say again, Full Court Rush at Oh Three Fifteen. That is all.”

When he closed the channel, Shepherd activated a timer. Judging by the distances involved, it would take three minutes twenty seconds for the order to reach the furthest ship, which would give them almost a minute to implement his orders.

Plenty of time.

Now they just had to survive the next four minutes and twenty seconds.

As he was considering that, and mentally making alternate plans, Shepherd heard Captain Jackson’s voice come over the shipwide.

“All hands, All hands, standby for full military acceleration. I say again, All hands standby for full military acceleration. Batten down, and strap in, we’re going for another ride.”

Below the Flag Deck, Neal Jackson was sitting in the midst of a hurricane of activity. With the Admiral ordering a Full Court Press time was suddenly tight again. The more urgent of system strains had been checked and either fixed or cleared as no an urgent concern, but he still had men performing emergency maintenance of a few systems that had been deemed as probably ok but borderline.

They were being pulled back, and should be back into their bolsters before the action was underway. Jackson knew that they’d better be, otherwise they were very likely to become casualties of the situation.

A Full Court Press was a combined fleet action, and the Montana couldn’t be late. It depended on the coordination of every ship available, and was literally a case of better never than late. If he had men unstrapped when the clock ran down, the Montana was going in anyway.

“Systems check.” He ordered, flipping his repeater display over to the overview screen.

“Weapons Green, our remaining missiles are ready to fly, Sir.”

“Engine is green Sir. VASIMR drive is primed, no signs of undue stress on the system.

Honestly, Jackson would have been personally shocked if there had. The VASIMR system was single most robust part of the entire Los Angeles Class design. It had to be to survive the Matter/Anti-Matter annihilation than propelled the ship. A few near misses from an enhanced gravity field shouldn’t be able to have any great effect.

“Navigation is green, all screens are go Sir.”

“Comms online, we’re connected over the fleet wide battle network, Sir. Latency is under three minutes now.”

He nodded, latency would continue to drop as the ships closed on the enemy and each other. He wasn’t sure why the enemy wasn’t trying to jam the spectrum, however. He would, if he had any idea what signals system the enemy were using.

Of course, that could be the exact problem they’re facing.
He supposed,
We certainly haven’t picked up any signs of radio telemetry from them. FTL Comms? I know that R&D is working on some sort of mobile Casimir system for the Cheyenne class…

He shrugged the thought away, in the end it didn’t really matter for the moment. While FTL communications could be an immense tactical advantage, its uses at the current engagement ranges would be of limited impact.

Still, he knew that they had to be talking back and forth somehow. The question was, how?

Neal had to admit, though, it was a bit of a mind job to think that just over one and a half light minutes away there may just be an alien Captain thinking the exact same thing about him.

“Life support is green, Captain. All repairs are concluded, and the men report that they’re strapped.”

“Alright, excellent work.” Jackson said, “Sound battlestations.”

“Battlestations, Aye!”

The alarms sounded throughout the ship, warning every one of the impending action, as if they hadn’t already been aware. Space combat involved such insane distances that it was possible, even likely, to be forced to take a nap between engagements of the same battle. This was something that led to a certain degree of lethargy, Jackson had found, which was something to be stamped out as quickly as possible when found.

With the alarms doing the stamping, Jackson took a moment to examine the plot and the countdown.

He could see what the Admiral was thinking, with both enemies and allies closing with each other at such a rate the odds that favored an action like a Full Court Press. There was an element of risk to the strategy, but Jackson figured that most of those were already at play in the current action.

The Admiral wasn’t quite ordering a Hail Mary play, but it was close. It was probably the right move too, all things considered.

Of course, Jackson knew, it was possible to make all the right moves and still lose the game.

Here’s hoping the Admiral has a little dumb fool luck backing up his core competences,
Jackson through with wry humor as the countdown ticked down to the last few seconds.

“Prepare to engage the VASIMR drive on my mark,” he ordered.

“Aye Captain, VASIMR standing by.”

Jackson’s eyes flicked down to the clock as the last instant passed, then they came up again as he stared ahead at the main repeater display. “Mark!”

“VASIMR firing!”

Simultaneously, across more than three light minutes, five VASIMR drives lit off as one. The effect on the crewmembers of those ships was to be slammed back into their bolsters as their vessels dove in against the pair of enemy ships they faced.

The Montana and the Indiana dove after the Indiana’s own missiles barrage, using it as a distraction and as cover for their own charge. The others led with missile attacks of their own, the remaining ships with full external magazines flushing them at their targets as they accelerated into the teeth of their enemies weapons.

Hundreds of Earth built missiles filled the black between the ships, illuminated by their drive flares and by the explosions of the dying as the alien ships engaged the missiles attack with point defense and their main gravity valve weapons.

Even as missiles were being swatted from the sky, however, the five remaining Los Angeles class destroyers closed with the enemy, their internal magazines primed as they prepared to unload the last of their weapons in their Admiral’s final play.

Through the debris and radiation of the destroyed missiles, they dove, all eyes that could watching as the surviving missiles entered terminal guidance and raked the enemy ships with direct and glancing strikes that would have annihilated any lesser built craft. The large alien cruisers, however injured, were still able to accelerate as they came through the missile storm and turned their weapons back onto the advancing Solari cruisers.

“All tubes to rapid fire on my mark!” Jackson ordered.

“Tubes stand ready, Captain!”

“Captain! Gravity event! It’s centered on the Indiana!”

Jackson threw open the ship to ship, “Max! Get your butt out of there!”

The Indiana shuddered, thrusters burning as it’s VASIMR drive erupted into full force. The big ship turned slowly, edging away as it began to build serious speed. Jackson could see that the ship was fighting some external force, however, as its motion didn’t look quite right.

“Gravity event is moving amidships! She’s reaching crush tolerance!”

“Come on, Max,” Neal urged as he tried to lean forward, only to be held securely by his webbed straps. “Get out of there… move it…”

“Her external armor is failing!”

“God damn it,” Captain Neal Jackson swore, “Let’s see how strong these things really are. Helm, bring as about to One Thirty Nine, Mark two to the positive twelve!”

“Aye Sir, Coming about to…” The Ensign trailed off. “Captain?”

“Do it!”

“Aye sir.”

Jackson knew that the Montana had already built more Delta V than the Indiana, as they were moving to catch up already. As she twisted around onto the new course he did the math in his head and winced as he opened the shipwide comm.

“All hands, brace for impact!”

The Montana struck nose first, angled into the portside aft section of the Indiana, at several hundred miles an hour in the difference. The ungodly scream of metal on metal echoed down the entire length of the ship as the Montana physically
shoved
the Indiana out of the way, spinning the other ship violently as it performed a zero gravity rendition of what on Earth would be called the ‘Pit Maneuver’.

Thrown against their straps, the crews of both ships were deafened by the blaring klaxons warning of dire happenings, both ships still maintaining full acceleration as they moved. The Indiana spun out, spiraling around the Montana as it continued on course through the crash zone.

“Gravity event to port!”

“Indiana reports Gravity event to port!”

Jackson winced, though that was pretty much what he’d hoped. With the Indiana twisting around and now pointing the other way, that put the enemy attack directly between them.

“All power to port thrusters!”

Both ships fired their thrusters as one even as the sudden lurch of the ships threated to thrown them back into each other, pushing against the invisible force threatening to swat them from the sky.

“Increase VASIMR power to fifteen gravities!”

“Aye Sir! Increasing to fifteen gravities!”

The Montana surged again, charging ahead of the twisting Indiana and putting itself between the foundering ship and the enemy.

“Open fire, all tubes!”

“Captain! Starboard tubes are NOT in service! We damaged them in the impact!”

“Rapid fire on port tubes!” Jackson ordered, “shift the magazines’ missile supple to the port side!”

“Aye sir!”

The Montana opened up in rapid fire on its portside tubes as the other three ships pressed the attack as well, firing their own internal magazines as fast as their tubes would cycle them. Now within less than forty light seconds of the enemy the danger increased exponentially for both sides.

Missiles streamed into space from the four charging ships, every passing shot having less and less time to reach its target, making it almost impossible for point defense to effectively target. However, on the other side of the coin, the enemy’s gravity valve weapon could lock with greater and greater confidence and the alien ships were able to maintain locks with much more effectiveness.

“The San Jose is experiencing a gravity event!”

Jackson’s eyes fell on the plot, but this time there was nothing he could do. There was no ship in range to give them an ill-considered push, nor did it appear that they could maneuver themselves out of the predicament.

“Her integrity’s failing! Nuke flash!” The announcement chilled the bridge, to be followed up by a quieter, “She’s gone, Sir.”

“Keep firing.” Jackson ordered tersely as he grunted against the heavy forces of acceleration. “No matter what… just keep firing.”

*****

USV Socrates

Entering Hayden Orbit

Hooking the planet’s gravity in the opposite of the classic ‘slingshot’ maneuver, using the planet’s mass to bleed speed off as fast as possible was a tricky move. Alexi brought his ships in like shooting stars, sweeping into Hayden’s gravity well counter to the planets orbit, and hooking around the planet in a tight spiral that brought them in tighter to the planet at insane speeds.

They were still riding ‘backwards’, drives burning as high as the crews could physically tolerate. The gee forces were on the edge of what Alexi was willing to subject his crews to, knowing that pushing it any further would create unacceptable risk of blackout for mission vital crewmembers.

“Coming up on turnover, Captain!”

“Bring us about, signal the fleet.” Alexi ordered, “Put our noses to the forge.”