Defying the Prophet: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 2) (23 page)

Per Admiral Kalis’ standing battle orders, Ben ordered his entire flotilla to use only their big main weaponry as they came into extreme range, and to hold all missile and secondary armament fire until they finally came into range of the cats’ weaponry. Had he been consulted on the matter, Ben would have preferred to use everything they had, at as long a range as possible, to minimize the number of enemy ships that ever got into range in the first place.

But Kalis wanted the cats to see, with their own eyes, what kind of punishment battleships could stand up to. He wanted the enemy
to
know
they couldn’t hurt the human fleet. He wanted them to feel utter discouragement. Ben didn’t quite see things that way, but the old
Gray Fox
got paid the big bucks for making decisions like that, and he hadn’t lost one yet.

Still, here he sat… right in the dead center of the bulls-eye.
Defiant
was on point, and so became the primary target in the biggest battle that humankind had ever fought — bigger than humanity had ever even imagined. Ben felt niggling little doubts trying to worm their way into his consciousness. It had certainly all sounded good on paper, but right now the
theory,
that literally thousands of 3-gigawatt pulse-laser hits wouldn’t penetrate or degrade a battleship’s armor, wasn’t really enough to prevent Ben’s balls from trying to escape what was coming, by hiding up his asshole. 

At least if I’m going to die, I’ll do it sitting next to the most beautiful woman in the known universe. 

Ben really wasn’t overly concerned about the prospect of his own death, but there was just something fundamentally
wrong
with the idea of a goddess being blown to atoms. Ben unconsciously glanced to his right and there, a mere four feet away, sat Dorothy Fletcher… ensconced in her own battle armor and looking for all the world like a queen to Ben’s king on their two elevated command chairs, uncannily resembling thrones. Ben couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d had to have her battle armor custom made to accommodate her magnificent… 

Goddamn it, Stillman! Get your mind off Dorothy Fletcher’s tits and pay attention to your damn job! Watch the war, man. Watch the war!

* * * *

By the time the leading elements of the gigantic Rak fleet finally came into firing range, the human’s unbelievably powerful, long-range energy weapons had destroyed another 3,000 Rak warships. Few still believed the destruction of their station might have been an accident. None could imagine exactly
how
they might have accomplished it, but the entire Rak fleet was firmly convinced it was somehow the human’s doing. Enraged at the devastation they’d suffered at the hands of these audacious aliens, their initial volley was not well coordinated with fire discipline — almost a thousand Rak warships unleashed all of their forward weaponry… virtually all at the same target! A hellish barrage of thousands of 3-gigawatt blasts totally engulfed the monstrous human ship leading their formation, completely obliterating it from sight within a wall of flame.

* * * *

Ben thought he’d been blinded, as the entire Combat Information Center aboard
Defiant
suddenly disappeared in a blinding flash of yellow and orange. The entire ship rang like a gong being struck by a thousand air-hammers, and the blinding glare seemed to go on forever. That impossible sound made Ben feel like his head was inside a cathedral bell, as it summoned the faithful to mass. After a couple of seconds, which felt more like a couple of eternities, the filters in Ben’s faceplate finally polarized and he was extremely relieved that his vision actually returned…

…and was rather startled to find Captain Dorothy Fletcher at his side, clinging to his arm.

Ben flipped a switch on the arm of his chair and opened an internal comm channel and more calmly than he felt, said, “Well, if that wasn’t just the set falling out of somebody’s academy ring, it would appear that we’re finally within range of the kitties’ weapons and we’re still here, folks,” Ben said. “Secondary weapons free…”

Dorothy Fletcher dived for the switches on the arm of her command chair and yelled, “This is the captain… all batteries, fire at will. I repeat, all batteries — fire at will!”

Ben flipped another switch opening fleet communications and said, “Flotilla… this is Flotilla Control… missile release: authorization code zero, alpha, zero, six… FIRE!”

* * * *

Instead of being reduced to a metallic lump of flaming wreckage as expected, the massive human ship emerged from within the blinding glare of thousands of nearly simultaneous energy bolts, obviously singed and scorched, but amazingly unhurt. It immediately unleashed a spectacular energy barrage of its own, from 10 twin 5-gigawatt turrets and 16 twin 3.5-gigawatt mounts. The Raknii barely had time for their shock to register when the entire human flotilla unleashed a barrage of several hundred ship-killer missiles.

* * * *

The Rak warriors at Golgathal had all completed extensive training concerning what the survivors of Tzal’s OverFleet had discovered about the incredible capabilities of the human warships during their first attack on the human aliens two cycles earlier. All were fully aware that human warships possessed unimaginably thick armor, and they had been drilled repetitively that, only by getting behind them for a stern-shot, could they find a point vulnerable to the power of Rak energy weapons. 

But although they
knew
these things intellectually, it was quite another thing entirely to actually witness that enormous human warship virtually disappear within the glare of thousands of hits… and then emerge
unscathed
. The mind screamed that it just wasn’t possible! 

The
Defiant’s
unexpected survival of such a hellacious barrage, and then immediately returning fire from her 52 secondary armaments, staggered those Rak close enough to have seen it. Many just froze, staring in wide-eyed disbelief as the
true
hunters in this nightmare came for them. Others came to the sudden realization, deep in the core of their beings, that that ridiculous prophecy of gloom and doom that had called these humans
ultimate predators
was horrifyingly true. Regardless of what their training had told them about these creatures, their own eyes testified that what they had just witnessed just wasn’t possible within this physical universe. 

Their psyches were also screaming — screaming these humans couldn’t be mortal, but were, without doubt, demonic. Visions of legendary horrors from ancient tales crept up from their subconscious to manifest before their eyes. One was especially common… perhaps the single most sinister and feared entity in all of Raknii mythology — an invulnerable and unstoppable arch-demon having no name, known only as
Stalking Death
. 

Then the almost simultaneous launch of hundreds of shipboard missiles from the other 104 ships that followed the supernatural survival of the human monster ship unnerved them completely. For those close enough to have witnessed them, these unprecedented events had introduced the Raknii to an entirely alien emotion…
terror
. 

To the complete bewilderment of the OverFleet-Masters positioned more deeply within the massive Rak fleet, hundreds of those Raknii warships closest to the onslaught reacted in a way unthinkable, unimaginable just a single turn before…
they fled
. Never in all of Raknii history had Rak warships fled from any foe, or withdrawn from the joys of glorious combat without orders. The OverFleet-Masters were stunned, and couldn’t imagine what could have possibly caused so many Rak warriors to behave so shamefully.

Was it possible that the humans might have somehow taken over control of those ships remotely? Nothing seemed impossible where these unfathomable aliens were concerned. 

Messages flashed amongst the fleet. It was eventually decided to divide the fleet, sending half of it after the retreating human fighters, lest they rearm and again wreak havoc from far beyond the Rak’s effective firing range. Dol only knew how many of those infernal “missiles” the humans had with them, so it was imperative that they destroy those fighters in their nest. The remaining half of their fleet should be sufficient to deal with those few ships just ahead.

Shouldn’t it? 

With light-speed delays in communications, by the time a consensus was reached and a decision finally made, the combination of energy weapons and ship-killer
missile fire had reduced the Rak numbers by another 3,500 ships. With hundreds of Rak ships that were closest to the enemy suddenly veering away, it was considerably more than just the half of the fleet ordered to pursue the fighters that did so. 

About 500 Rak warships ignored orders completely and reversed course, following in the wake of the fleeing hundreds. Only about 30% of the remaining Rak fleet… those approximately 5,000 towards the rear of the formation, who had not witnessed what happened further forward, obeyed orders to continue the attack on the massive human ships dead ahead. They tried desperately to get behind the
monster ships so their weapons could be effective, but there was just no getting behind them. The way the human ships were staggered, getting behind one meant flying directly into the teeth of the ones farther back.
Compounding the Raknii problems was the arrival of 750 of Thorn’s reserve
Raptor
fighters and the 3,000 anti-ship missiles they carried. Yet in spite of all that, thousands of Rak
ships stubbornly persisted, obsessed with getting behind the humans to gain stern-shots… and died in the attempt. 

Rak numbers quickly dwindled to below 800, and the Raknii OverFleet-Masters overseeing this
part of the battle realized they no longer had any reason to hope for victory against such unimaginable warships as the humans had thrown at them. They reluctantly ordered their few remaining ships to reverse course and pursue the cowards that had fled earlier. They had a new priority now…to track down and discipline almost 1,200 of their
own ships for cowardice in the face of the enemy — something else unprecedented in Raknii history.

* * * *

When the surviving Raknii ships turned away, Admiral Ben Stillman ordered the missile bombardment to cease, in order to conserve those the flotilla had left, and for all ships to report their damage and remaining missile inventory status. Half a dozen flotilla ships had been damaged due to the enemy managing to get in a few stern-shots before being destroyed.
Defiant’s
bridge crew identified which ships were closest to the damaged vessels, and Stillman ordered them to render assistance, now that the Raknii attack was finally over, and it was safe for them to do so. The remainder of the flotilla continued on in pursuit of the fleeting Rak ships, pounding them with their long-range main guns, until new orders came in from Flag.

About 20 minutes later, Fleet Admiral Kalis issued ship-specific orders dividing the flotilla. Stillman was ordered to take
Defiant,
Admiral Hunter’s 75 frigates and the 76 flotilla ships having the most missiles remaining and reverse course, making best speed in support of Thorn’s carriers. Kalis would take
Malice
and the remaining 17 ships with lower missile inventories and continue pursuit of the retreating cats.  

* * * *

Thorn’s long-range scanners showed what appeared to be just over 14,000 of the small alien warships completing sweeping arches in two columns to get out of the flotilla’s effective missile range, but she knew they would continue their turns and come after her carriers. They were still a long way off, so she was relatively confident she’d have time to recover, rearm, refuel and relaunch her assault fighters before the enemy got within range. Unfortunately three-fourths of her total fighter contingent were also a good ways off yet, coming back in three waves, so she ordered her remaining
Demons
with their nearly 4,200 anti-ship missiles launched to go play tag with those incoming Rak ships, and give those cats something to think about, during their long ride across empty space.

* * * *

Alliance Vice Admiral J.T Turner was nervous. The scanners showed over 14,000 of those small enemy warships were now heading directly towards Admiral Thorn’s 45 carriers, with nothing between them but a relative hand-full
of fighters and his 120 destroyers. J.T. was always up for a scrap and had been itching to get into this fight, but he hadn’t really counted on doing it from the deck of a lightly armored destroyer. Primarily designed to provide anti-fighter support, destroyers normally carried only about 20 anti-ship missiles and a single, fast-cycling 5-gigawatt energy gun. Knowing they’d not need anti-fighter missiles, each destroyer now carried around 15 extra anti-ship missiles in their place, but they’d have to be wrestled into the auto-loader racks by hand when the time came, and that would take time… time J.T. wasn’t sure they’d have.

Unlike the battleships and cruisers of the assault flotilla, relatively thin destroyer armor was all too vulnerable to the 3-gigwatt weapons the enemy used. They were too similar in size to the enemy warships and the aliens had him badly outnumbered. The only advantages his destroyers had were speed and range, but 14,000 “corvettes,” each carrying six 3-gigawatt guns vs. 120 destroyers, each carrying one 5-gigwatt gun was not odds that instilled confidence in seeing this battle’s end.