Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) (34 page)

“What’s bothering you, sir?” Davis had been relieved again by Ensign Hayashi and resumed her seat to Jackson’s right.

“Besides the horrific losses we’re taking?” He instantly regretted his sarcasm. There was no reason to be unprofessional, even in the middle of a pitched battle. “I don’t understand what the Phage are doing. Where are the Charlies?”

“Maybe they were unavailable,” she said. “We’re assuming they take a long time to refuel, or whatever the proper term is. It’s also possible they aren’t able to take much damage, so the Alphas are sent in first to clear out the system before they make an appearance.”

“Not bad, Lieutenant,” Jackson said after a moment. “Both of those theories are plausible, but I think the second has real merit. If the Phage knew we were going to draw a line in the sand here, maybe they didn’t want to bring in the Charlies too soon and risk them getting hit with a few hundred Shrikes.”

“Of course, that raises another problem, sir.” Davis frowned and leaned in so she wasn’t overheard. “Even if we fight them to a standstill here, we may just be delaying them.”

“It’s something I’m considering,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, I don’t think they’ll let us disengage all that easily, even if I were inclined to leave the citizens of Nuovo Patria to their fates.”

“Understood, sir.” She wisely dropped the subject.

The idea that the entire fleet he’d called to the system might be wasted in what would basically amount to a short delay before the inevitable arrival of the planet devouring Charlies wasn’t something Jackson wanted to consider. He tried to put the line of thought out of his mind since there was little he could do about it at the moment. He’d committed his forces, and now he would have to see the battle to its conclusion.

“Velocity now holding at .17c,” Barrett said. “Helm, cease acceleration.”

The helmsman pulled the throttles back. “Engines answering zero thrust.”

“Tactical, you have command authority for our braking maneuver as well. Assign two Shrikes to each target, and have the auto-mag standing by,” Jackson said. “Coms, try and get in touch with someone on the planet surface, and warn them they have two Alphas incoming.”

“Aye, sir.” Barrett rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

Jackson looked around. Everyone on the bridge was beginning to show signs of fatigue, but not so much so that he was willing to try and get them any relief. At least not until the two targets directly threatening the planet were dealt with.

“We’re ninety-five minutes from our initial decel and just over two hours before we’re within effective range for the Shrikes,” Barrett said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” Jackson said absently. He had two windows pulled up on his terminal—one a tactical overlay from the Link and another a direct telemetry stream from the
Icarus
.

Commander Wright was taking no unnecessary chances with an irreplaceable starship and its crew, something Jackson approved of wholeheartedly. Though it seemed she was keeping to the basic doctrine developed for fighting the Phage, she did bring a bit of her own innovation to the table. The
Icarus
had already fired two Shrikes at each of the incoming Alphas, but the missiles had been programmed so that once they’d expended their first stages two of the missiles would stack in closely behind the first two.

Although that seemed like a common sense method to protect the trailing missiles, tactical officers weren’t normally fans of it, since, when the lead missile was destroyed, the second would more likely than not impact the debris or be taken out by the explosion. The new generation of Shrikes, however, had an ultra-dense alloy penetrator for a nose cone, and the warhead was a fusion warhead, both of which could survive some bumps as they continued on to the target.

Wright had likely insisted on the stacked formation because she would have correctly assumed the first wave of missiles wouldn’t have much of a chance against two Alphas closing such a large gap of uninterrupted space. They’d see the missiles coming long before they were within range of their second stage boost and would easily knock them down.

Once he was certain that Commander Wright had her engagement handled, he quickly scanned through the Link updates to check on the overall status of the battle. The news was bleak. Ninth Squadron was down to four effectives as the
Hyperion
was limping out of the area on one engine, and both Black Fleet battlegroups had taken a pounding, losing six ships between them.

The
Dreadnought
-class battleships were flying by individual skirmishes at high speed and peeling a few Phage units off from the perimeters, but they were largely staying out of the fight, at Marcum’s express orders no doubt. The Eighth Fleet units in sector two were putting up a hell of a fight, but they were getting pushed back toward Nuovo Patria, and most of the Third Fleet ships were now flying in the periphery, either unable or unwilling to engage the hoard of Phage units that were slowly but surely compressing the battle toward the planet.

“Helm, begin decel on my mark,” Barrett’s voice interrupted the relative silence on the bridge. “Mark!”

Almost immediately, the deck began to vibrate, and the soft rumble of the engines firing in reverse drowned out much of the ambient noise.

“Give me an update on our targets.” Jackson forced himself to turn away from his terminal. Commander Wright would either be able to handle her fight or she wouldn’t, and watching the telemetry link would do nothing but distract him from his own task.

“Target A is holding on the far side of the planet relative to our approach vector,” Barrett said. “Target B has placed itself directly between us and the planet, holding station and sitting at an altitude of approximately two hundred thousand kilometers.”

“Coms, has Nuovo Patria reported any enemy fire coming their way?” Jackson asked.

“Negative, sir,” Keller said.

“Another test,” Jackson said softly.

“Sir?” Davis asked.

“These last few movements by the Alphas in our sector make little strategic sense,” Jackson said. “I think they’re gauging reactions.”

“Excuse me, sir, but why would they be playing games and trying to observe behavior in the middle of a pitched battle in which they’re taking heavy losses?” she asked.

“Losses mean nothing to them.” Jackson waved her off, absolutely certain of what he was seeing now. “The intelligence present in this system deliberately pulled the
Icarus
away and now has a target sitting directly between us and a planet with millions of humans. It wants to see if I’ll fire on this Alpha at the risk of hitting the planet.”

“It seems they have more than enough examples of human behavior to understand that we value individual life,” she said. “Why bother with something so elaborate?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Lieutenant,” he said. “But let’s go ahead and throw them a curveball. Helm! Come to port fifteen degrees. All ahead full.”

“Correcting course, aye,” the helmsman said. “Engines answering ahead full.”

There was a harsh swaying back and forth on the bridge as the thrust was reversed and the power cranked back up to maximum.

“Sir?” Barrett asked.

“As you were, Lieutenant Commander.” Jackson stood. “Keep weapons lock on Target B, and calculate a firing solution for the auto-mag that assumes a passing shot with the gun oriented perpendicular to the target.”

“Yes, sir.” Barrett pulled up a new pane at his terminal to get the computer started on the calculations.

“I know a crossing shot with the cannon is less than ideal, but I’m a little hesitant to start firing nukes off this close to the planet,” Jackson explained to both his tactical officer and XO. “It’s unlikely a miss or deflection would detonate on the surface, but the EMP from even a successful strike near low-orbit could knock out the power grid. I’d rather not take away anything they might be able to use for their own defense.”

“Understood, sir,” Barrett said. “So far, the target is maintaining position.”

“That won’t last for long,” Jackson said as the
Ares
angled over, and the engines pushed her out of the original orbital insertion vector. He’d committed the ship, and now it was too late to try and decel. They would be passing the planet while accelerating, and the Phage would know that.

“Target B is reacting, sir,” Barrett said. “It’s dropping back down closer to the planet and pacing us to make sure we can’t get an unimpeded shot.”

“As I expected.” Jackson nodded. “Adjust firing solution for Target A.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Helm, come back to starboard seven degrees, and incline ten,” Jackson said. “Maintain engine power levels.”

“Sir, that will put us within effective range of both Alphas almost simultaneously,” Barrett warned.

“Noted.” Jackson didn’t bother to explain himself further.

“Captain, Battlegroup One is withdrawing,” Lieutenant Keller said. “They’ve taken heavy losses and are less than twenty percent combat effective. The
Tempest
was lost.”

“Understood.” Jackson tried to maintain a calm exterior. The
Tempest
was the massive fleet carrier that flew the flag for Battlegroup One. That ship had a crew of just over five-thousand spacers and more than a few that he knew personally. “Tell whoever is now in command to exit the area as best they can. I can’t afford anyone to fly escort. Randomization protocols are still in effect.”

The next hour and a half were tense as Jackson half expected the two Alphas to take their opportunity to rush him while hoping they would do as expected and try to use the planet as a shield. He wasn’t completely sure what the Alpha on the far side of the planet was trying to accomplish. So far, it hadn’t fired a single shot, and it didn’t look like it was making a move to attack the surface of Nuovo Patria.

“Captain, the
Icarus
is reporting that both Alphas have disengaged before they were within missile range,” Keller said. “They’re now heading back out of the system.”

“That makes no—”

“Target A and B are also disengaging, sir,” Barrett said in alarm. “They’re moving back around the far side of the planet and are accelerating away toward where the rest of the fleet is bunched up.”

“I’m open to any wild guesses as to what this is all about,” Jackson sneered. Although the planet had been spared any enemy fire, it seemed that he wasn’t as adept at guessing the Phage’s behavior as he’d let himself believe.

“Incoming message from the
Amsterdam
,” Keller said. “Admiral Marcum’s personal codes.”

“Put it through.”

“This is Admiral Marcum aboard the
Amsterdam
. I am assuming overall command of the fleet and ordering a general retreat from the Nuovo Patria System. We have taken unacceptable losses and are no longer able to provide an adequate defense. Break contact, and exit the system at best possible speed.
Amsterdam
out.”

“Blunt enough,” Jackson mumbled.

Before he could gather his thoughts and address his crew, a flashing on his terminal caught his attention.

“Captain, the
Atlas
and the
Artemis
are reporting a complete loss of control,” he said. “Both ships appear to be operating on their own and are moving into formation with the
Dreadnought
-class battleships.”

Jackson looked at the flashing light again. Marcum was making good on a promise that Jackson hadn’t fully understood at the time. He didn’t have to order him out of the system. He had the codes to access the remote override protocols for the
Starwolf
-class ships.

“Confirm that the
Icarus
is still under command of the crew,” Jackson said.

“Confirmed, sir,” Keller said.

“Tell Commander Wright to change course and put her ship in high-orbit over Nuovo Patria,” Jackson ordered. “Nav, I want a course for the
Ares
as well… same destination. Helm, get us there at best possible speed.”

“Aye, sir.”

Over the next few hours, the indicator on Jackson’s terminal lit up no fewer than ten times as the override commands were sent from the
Amsterdam
over and over. After that came the inevitable com requests from Admiral Marcum, but the rest of the fleet was now well outside two-way communications range, and Jackson had little interest in opening multiple messages in which the Admiral would no doubt have nothing constructive to say.

“All Fleet vessels with the exception of us and the
Icarus
are confirmed to be leaving the system, sir,” Ensign Hayashi said. “The Link is beginning to break down, but from what I can tell, the Phage are letting them escape with only an occasional shot taken from long range.”

“Herding them along.” Jackson shook his head. “I assume we’ll soon be detecting the Charlies arriving near the vicinity of the Podere jump point.”

“What’s the plan, Captain?” Chief Green asked from the hatchway.

Jackson addressed the entire bridge crew. “We’re going to continue to offer a defense to Nuovo Patria as best we can while continuing to collect data. I have no intentions of throwing our lives away in a meaningless gesture of defiance, but the Fleet has given back as good as it got during this battle, and the enemy is weakened and cautious.” He knew his crew had to be exhausted, but they still looked determined and willing.

“There are still two destroyers in this system that are undamaged and fully armed. We’ll see if there’s a chance to take out one or more of the Charlies when they arrive while picking our engagements with the remaining Alphas. I know you’re exhausted and more than a little apprehensive about staying behind, but I’ll get us through this. Tactical, go full active sensors, and give me a breakdown of what’s left in this system.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Barrett said crisply.

As the Terran ships limped to the jump points and transitioned out of the system, the Phage forces began to move back down and take position just outside the orbit of Nuovo Patria’s second moon, while the two Terran destroyers flew fast and low just outside of the planet’s atmosphere. Nerves began to fray as more and more Phage arrived, and yet no move was made to engage them.