A Faded Star (22 page)

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Authors: Michael Freeport

BOOK: A Faded Star
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 “Are the other ships in position?”

 “Yes, sir. I'm getting active scans from all four
destroyers. The convoy flew right past them.”

 “Miss Kelper, fire at will.”

 “Aye, sir. Firing main gun now.”

 The weapon shrieked its destructive power forward into
the oncoming bow of the crab destroyer. Sensors updated immediately, showing a
massive hole ripped into the front of the ship.

 “Damage report on the destroyer, Watkins.”

 “It's heavily damaged, sir. Next shot should finish
them off. Five of the escorts are down, Rapier got a second shot off already.”

 “Good. Fire again as soon as the main gun is
recharged.”

 “Aye, sir. Firing.”

 The destroyer burst into a rapidly expanding
collection of fragments. The ship's reactor failed just after the hit, causing
a blinding flash to illuminate the bridge.

 “Target the lead cargo hauler, attempt to disable
only,” Drogue said.

 “Aye, sir. Firing at thirty percent power, Admiral,”
Kelper said. The shot took the first cargo ship exactly where intelligence
placed the crab bridge. The ship began to tumble immediately, out of control.

 Hanlon said, “Target the next freighter.”

 “Aye, ma'am. Firing now.”

 The second ship lurched to the side and began venting
atmosphere and fluids from the hull breach cause by the impact. The ship made a
wobbly effort to turn away from Broadsword when Dirk nailed the bridge with a
follow up shot. The ship stopped maneuvering and drifted slowly along its
trajectory, carried only by momentum. The other three freighters were all
disabled.

 “Signal to the squadron: Good shooting everyone. Send
a message to the alliance salvage ship to get in here and start picking up this
salvage.”

 “Aye, sir,” Watkins said. He worked at his console for
a moment and then spoke again. “Alliance ship ETA one minute. Also, active
sensors show the crab force mobilizing to head in this direction. Looks like
four battlecruisers, ten cruisers, and twelve destroyers. Unclear on escorts,
the range is too great to get clear readings with all the other large ships
around.”

 “What's their ETA, Mister Watkins?” Hanlon asked.

 “Unclear at this time. The formation is still getting
together. Once they start accelerating, I'll be able to project a reasonable
estimate, ma'am.”

 “Very well. Once you have a good estimate, put it on
the forward display.”

 “Yes, ma'am.”

 The alliance salvage ship arrived. Hanlon turned her
display to view the ship. It was her first time seeing the vessel. It was
strangely unlike the design of the rest of the alliance ships. All of the
alliance ships she'd seem so far were two part designs with large conical
sections at both ends of one to six cylindrical connections between them. The
salvage and factory ship was completely different. A large, ring shaped ship
nearly a kilometer in diameter. It moved in towards the drifting debris.

 “Sir, we're getting a message from the salvage ship.
They recommend we move away from the wreckage.”

 “Very well. Helm set course towards the edge of the
system full thrust for five minutes then drop to zero thrust. Have the rest of
the squadron form up on us.”

 “Aye, sir,” The helmsman said.

 Hanlon said, “What do you think of that salvage ship,
Admiral?”

 “It's odd. None of the other alliance ships appear to
be built with the same design philosophy. I had expected something like the
Broadsword, but far larger with an assemblage of arms and hatches to cut up and
take in as much of the wreckage as possible. I'm not sure how that ship,
despite how massive it is will take in all of the ships we disabled and
destroyed.”

 “It should be interesting to see, sir.”

 The forward display showed the ship maneuvering to
pass all twelve wrecks through its center. The ship slowed to a crawl as it
approached the first freighter. The area in the center of the ship began to
glow dimly, and the ship just appeared to start ripping itself apart. Streams
of ship bits flowed along visible pathways into openings spaced around the
inside of the ring like ship. Hanlon and Drogue exchanged incredulous looks at
one another.

 “It must use some variant of the demolecularizing
technology the alliance installed on these ships. I wish I knew how it got the
materials to flow into the ship so neatly,” Hanlon said.

 Drogue said, “It's an impressive display of
technology. See, it's gathering up most of the debris from the destroyer as
well.”

 The display showed most of the larger fragments of the
destroyed ship flowing into streams of material and entering the alliance ship.
The process It looks for each ship from the defeated convoy. Hanlon fought off
a growing sense of unease.

 “Admiral, I'm concerned about this ship. If it
represents the level of technology the alliance has, I wonder if these ships
aren't just bottom of the barrel surplus they gave us to go get killed in.”

 “I don't think so, captain. If that were the case,
wouldn't the ships Ktenu flew in be more like this salvage ship? Perhaps this
ship is just highly specialized. Its design may be mandated by the function it
performs.”

 “I see. You're probably right, sir,” Hanlon said.

 “We're getting a signal from the alliance ship,”
Watkins said.

 “What do they have to say?” Hanlon said.

 “They've completed their operation and are ready to
depart. Also, the crab force is still more than five hours away on their
current flight profile.”

 “Very well,” Drogue said. “Signal all ships to engage
faster than light transit at the predesignated point. Rendezvous at the next
system as scheduled.”

 “Aye, sir. Signaling all ships now.”

 A series of brilliant flashes of light marked the
departure of the offensive squadron and the salvage ship from the L1131 system.

 Admiral Drogue called for an after action report the
next morning, once everyone had had a chance to rest and prepare written
accounts of their performance.

 Drogue, Hanlon, Watkins, and Kelper walked into the
conference room. Four displays were already on and showed the command crews
from the other four ships in the squadron.

 Admiral Drogue sat down and said, “Good morning,
everyone. We're just going to go over the attack carried out yesterday and see
if there are any areas we can improve our performance. Miss Hanlon, would you
give us the overview, please?”

 “Yes, sir. The total time in action was approximately
thirteen minutes. In that time, all five ships used their main guns to a high
degree of effectiveness. Three ships were destroyed outright; the crab
destroyer and two escorts. All five freighters were salvaged in their entirety.
A report from the salvage ship indicates they are at seventy percent capacity
for material storage. The next trip may bring them over capacity, but they have
a plan for that as well. Apparently, the alliance salvage ship has the ability
to smelt the salvage into large blocks of pure metals and alloys. Those blocks
can be stored aboard the Broadsword as needed. They can also be left at a spot
in space so the alliance can return later to retrieve them.

 “The Rapier has the highest kill count. Three escorts
disabled and one freighter. The remaining destroyers all got one escort and one
freighter. Broadsword took out the destroyer and disabled one freighter. The
attack was preformed exactly as planned. None of the crab ships had time to
react to our attack. Active sensors were engaged forty seconds before the first
shot was taken. With the destroyer defeated in the first minute of action, we
hypothesize there was little to no effective command and control for the
remaining warships. Although three ships did manage to effectively begin
evasive maneuvers against us, the fact that they were surrounded by four
destroyers made it impossible for them to escape. During the attack, only the
Rapier and Poniard took hits, both of them minor.”

 “Excellent summary, captain,” Drogue said. “Our next
stop is M673. The system has a large facility on the surface the alliance
believes is being used as an intelligence gathering point and sensor control
station. If they are correct, destroying it will cripple the crab's ability to
anticipate alliance movements. There is a picket force of three destroyers and
ten escorts in this system. It is the largest force we anticipate contending
with during these raids.”

 Hanlon said, “Does anyone have any questions at this
time?”

 One of the destroyer captains said, “Sir, this is
Captain Erickson of the Saber. Three destroyers and ten escorts is roughly
equivalent to our force. Do we anticipate a way of dividing them into more
manageable pieces?”

 “If possible, we will do so. Alliance intelligence
indicates the force is usually broken into three areas with one destroyer and
three or four escorts each, patrolling the system. With luck, we'll be able to
intercept one of these patrols while the other two link up to defend the
installation.”

 Erickson said, “Another question, sir. If this system
is so important, why is it so lightly defended?”

 “The alliance doesn't attack, they only defend. In the
entire time the crabs have been taking their territory, the alliance has never
launched even a counter-attack, much less an offensive move of their own. This
has made the crabs complacent. Are there any other questions?”

 There were none. Hanlon said, “Excellent. Our arrival
is scheduled for the day after tomorrow at oh-three-thirty. Get some rest and
make any repairs needed. Make sure your crews are well rested for action.”

 The screens winked off one by one until the Broadsword
command crew was sitting alone in the room.

 Drogue said, “See to your duties, everyone. We'll be
going to battle stations once we arrive at M673.”

 

 Hanlon oversaw drills and maintenance efforts over the
next eighteen hours. The evening before the squadron arrived at M673, she
turned in as early as she could to try to be well rested for the upcoming
battle. That night, she had the dream again. This time, she stood, feeling the
freezing winds whipping her hair around her head. When she finally looked up,
the black dot was getting larger and larger. Something about it made her want
to cry out in fear, but she couldn't speak in the dream.

 She bolted out of sleep, sweating and panting. Looking
at her clock, she realized it was less than ten minutes before her alarm.
Sighing, she tried to shake off the feeling the dream had left her with and got
ready for the day.

 The five ships arrived well inside the system. As soon
as they came out of FTL, Drogue ordered active scans of the system.

 “Mister Watkins, get me a location on the crab
forces.”

 “Aye, sir. Scanning now.” An impatient two or three
minutes had passed before Watkins said, “Sir, I can't locate any crab forces in
the system at all. If there are any crabs here, they've powered their drives
down and hidden pretty carefully.”

 “How many planetary blind spots do we have from this
perspective?”

 “Two, sir. The first planet, here.” A plot of the M673
system appeared on the forward display with a highlighted point showing the
location of the planet in question. “There is also the area behind the fifth
planet, where the base is located. If the force is hiding there, we can't
attack the installation without defeating them first. As soon as we stabilized
in orbit, we'd be vulnerable.”

 “Agreed. We'll have to maneuver around the planet to
clear the blind spot before hitting the installation. Helm plot a parabolic
course around the fifth planet. Leave us plenty of speed to maneuver if we need
to. We can swing back to the planet once we've gone around it.”

 “Aye, sir,” The helmsman said before beginning to
calculate his course. A moment later, he said,” Course projected on the forward
display, sir.”

 Drogue examined the course for a moment and then said,
“Execute course, helm. Mister Watkins advise the squadron to stay in loose
formation with us.”

 The squadron followed the course for the next thirty
minutes, clearing the blind spot of the planet. Watkins said, “There's no one
hiding behind the planet, Admiral. Looks like the system is abandoned.”

 “But why,” Hanlon asked.

 “Not sure,” Drogue said. Are you still getting power
emissions from the intelligence station?”

 “Yes, we are, sir,” Watkins said.”

 “Good. Miss Kelper, bring all main guns online and
prepare for planetary bombardment.”

 “Aye, sir. Main guns are ready for firing as soon as
we're in position.”:

 Hanlon said, “Time to orbit over the target?”

 “Eleven minutes, sir,” the helmsman said. “I took the
liberty of breaking and coming about when Mister Watkins confirmed there wasn't
anyone hiding behind the planet.”

 “Good thinking,” Drogue said. You're Petty Officer
Adler, right?”

 “Yes, sir. That's me.”

 “Very well. Mister Watkins, align tactical sensors and
interlock firing data with the rest of the squadron. I want this thing
destroyed as soon as possible.”

 “Aye, sir,” Watkins said. He worked on his console for
a moment and then said, “Targeting sensors are interlocked. All fire control is
ready for the bombardment.”

 The squadron aligned themselves into a tight formation
and rotated to point the five main guns towards the surface of the planet.

 Watkins said, “Squadron is entering geosynchronous
orbit over the installation.” He paused while the ships slowly moved into
optimal firing position. “We're ready, sir. We can fire at your command.”

 Drogue said, “All ships, fire.”

 Five guns shrieked as one. The crab base, which
covered less than a square kilometer, was severely damaged in the first volley.

 Kelper said, “Massive damage to the installation, sir.
It should be non-operational now.”

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