Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (102 page)

“Okay …,” Kyle drawled, clearly still confused but now amused to go with the initial emotion.

“It's what I'm thinking we're doing here. Really we're hunting. They are hunting us, and we're hunting them. My money is on us though; they can't hide forever,” the admiral replied with a tight grin. He didn't like the idea of one or more of those cruisers running into a pack of his destroyers. Hell, the idea of one of those battle cruisers was enough to make him cringe internally. That was why he'd split his battle cruisers into groups of three with each trio set on the BC tracks and the last were squatting on the jump point with
Kittyhawk
and her brood to keep the door firmly closed.

The three squadrons of destroyers had been split into groups of six to run the cruisers and CEV down. The CEV's
Admiral Halsey
and
Admiral Raymond Spruance
were through the largest cone of ships slowly, with their broods sweeping out to find the enemy ships.

Kyle shook his head. “No, sir. Definitely not. We've got recon drones and fighters covering the entire solar system.”

“And out near the heliopause?” the admiral asked.

“That's a problem, sir,” the Ops officer said quietly, studying the star plot. “You know space is vast, sir. I've been looking for potential ambushes or places they can hide easily. The asteroid belt, moons, what have you. But out there …”

“As you said, space is vast. Distance is a major factor in active sensors; the further away you are the easier you can spoof them. As long as you spoof them and don't block them your hunter won't see you.”

“I see, sir. Do you wish me to stop the sweep of the inner system?”

“No. But you can sick some of the reserves onto the space around the jump point. Start with a sphere then expand it outward in random stages. We know where they have to go though.”

“Aye, sir,” the human nodded, making a note of the plan. “To be honest, sir, I didn't expect, well, this,” he said, waving a hand to the situation board. “I didn't think they'd hide.”

The admiral grunted. He hadn't either, and he should have. It was natural for a bully who was suddenly on the receiving end to turn into a coward. “I didn't either. I thought binary solution set. Run or fight. They can't run far with the damage they've got. And I didn't think they'd be this successful about hiding. Not with their damage again.”

“No, sir.”

“But we will find them eventually. Count on that,” the admiral growled.

Kyle nodded, cold sober. “Yes, sir. Definitely.”

“Bet your ass, because you are. Now, find them Kyle,” the admiral growled.

“Aye aye, sir.”

“
Before
they find us preferably,” the admiral said under his breath as the Ops officer walked away.

---<>))))

Apache
and her consort
Lingchi
were the first pair to be run down.
Lingchi
had stuck to the heavy cruiser's wake in order to get some measure of protection. That attempt was her undoing.

Fighters found the heavy cruiser and alerted their mother ship and six pack of destroyers. The destroyers changed course and moved in for the kill.

The half squadron of bombers and fighters were the first on the heavy cruiser as she turned and tried to run. The initial recon ships kept out of range of the warships so they could keep tabs on their whereabouts. The bombers were escorted in.

Captain Bordou saw them coming and set herself. The bombers were coming in together directly for her bow. “Pitch four degrees up by ten to starboard helm. Guns, give them a broadside,” she ordered just as the torpedo alarm went off. Her fingernails dug into her taped up arm rests as torpedoes painted her plot red.

“Damn it!” she snarled as they came in. Her point defense fired, but there were twelve of them, all coming in fast and spitting decoys and jammer signals.

“We can't lock them up! They are too good,” a rating said, voice rising in panic.

“Steady,” the captain barked as the first torpedo exploded. The second walked into the counter fire but the others maneuvered out of the basket. A third went down as the range closed, but then two reached the outer edge of her shield and went off.

Force beams penetrated her already weakened shields, tearing a hole for the follow-up warhead to get through. The first wasted itself on her thick bow armor, but the second got into a piece of uncovered hull and tore into her bow like a rapier.

The ship bucked like a living thing as alarms wailed. The captain righted herself in time to see the other seven torpedoes pierce her ship's failing shields with ease to tear into her beloved ship.

One found her vitals and there was a bright flash and she knew no more.

---<>))))

Commander Maya Gisborn snarled in helpless rage as she saw the fighters and bombers withdraw and head back to the barn. She'd launched too late and only bagged one of them before they drew too far out of her range. When she turned back, she saw the six destroyers move in for the kill. She was utterly helpless as she saw
Lingchi
lumber into a turn in an attempt to run. She didn't know why Captain Senpi bothered; he wasn't going anywhere.

Sure enough before she could return to the ship, the destroyers fired a long-range missile spread. She called in a warning, but her mother ship was already blanketing the area in desperate jamming. She wanted to pound something in rage but couldn't. She saw a few of the missiles get picked off, but all too few.
Lingchi
seemed to waver as one hit after another hammered into her shields. Finally, her shields went down, and she tried to roll, to present her keel to the enemy in a last ditch maneuver to present as small a profile as possible.

It was useless. She watched, rage abating as the missiles tore into the helpless ship. Ten hitting her hull were too much for her. She began to break up, then explode.

“Damn it,” she muttered, feeling her eyes sting. To have come so far … she didn't have time to dash her tears of anger. She immediately plotted a course to the planet.

When the computer spat back the results, she grimaced. It would be tight, she'd have to go ballistic most of the way and conserve oxygen, but she might make it. Maybe. She programmed the computer to follow the course and then closed her eyes.

If she was lucky, she'd make it there. If she was really lucky, the bastards would find her and take her out before she died of oxygen deprivation.

---<>))))

Once SAR duties were completed, the destroyers and
Halsey
turned to help their sister ships run down the rest of the enemy ships.

They were out of position though when a six-pack of destroyers ran down the light cruiser
Calico Jack
halfway to the jump point.
Jack
got a piece of two of the destroyers as she waded into their fire. She shot herself dry of missiles then kept boring in as the destroyers changed course to back off and keep the range open.

Unfortunately for them inertia had to have its way. Captain Quinn knew he was doomed, but he was determined to take at least one enemy ship with him. He expected the ships to spread out to engulf him in fire from all sides, but they remained clustered in tight formation.

In response he rolled his ship, bringing new shield nodes and armor to bear to take the damage while his point defense and counter missiles tried to stave off the inevitable. His ship lasted four minutes and tore into the destroyers
Osborne
and
Bainbridge
, crippling
Osborne
before their consorts concentrated fire found a chink in the cruiser's armor. They ripped into her, unzipping her flank as she tried to speed up her roll. The grasers dug in until they found her main plasma feeds and tore through them.

Plasma tore at the guts of the ship, cutting off the vital material from the power supplies of the ship. The front half of the ship suddenly went dead. The plasma spread throughout the ship's vitals, eating away insidiously at her insides before the weapon fire from outside found something else vital. Fuel and oxidizer powder from an OMS tank was ruptured into the plasma stream and ignited. The ship shimmied like a dog after a bath then started to breakup.

The destroyers stood off, pounding the ship until no answering fire was returned. Then they watched as the helpless ship rolled, her drives flickered, and the surviving crew took to their escape pods or tried to ditch in their suits.

There were very few transponders for the SAR shuttles to pick up.

---<>))))

“There goes another one,” a CIC rating said quietly. “That makes three.”

“Who's left?” the comm rating whispered.

“Us,
Nevada
, and
Jean Lafitte
. Not that it matters. We're screwed,” the CIC rating said softly.

“As you were,” the captain ordered. The two ratings turned to him, then hunched their shoulders and returned their attention to their stations.

Nothing more needed to be said.

Chapter
61

Admiral Frost was sweating heavily when he saw another icon go down. He swore softly as he recognized the code as
Calico Jack
.

“I think Quinn got a piece of them. A good chunk out of the ass of two of the tin cans,” Shantell murmured.

“Good for him I suppose,” the admiral said sourly. “Time to the jump point?”

“At this speed?” Shantell asked, checking the navigator's calculations. “One hundred and twenty-six hours,” she said.

“Start a clock. Maneuver us again. Go deeper into space if you have to. Just get us to the jump point.”

“Sir …”

“Just do it!” the admiral snarled.

“I was going to say any sign of maneuver will be noticeable, sir,” Shantell said through gritted teeth. He stared at her. When he didn't rescind the order, she nodded once. “Very well, sir. Nav, you heard the admiral. Change course. Plot us a dog leg, keep them guessing on our course and speed.”

“Aye aye, ma’am,” the navigator said dubiously.

---<>))))

“What the hell is she playing at?” Captain Post demanded when he saw the flares on the plot. “Shantell,” he muttered.

“Sir?”

“She's drawing them to her. Sacrificing herself to let the rest of us get by. I'm not sure why. It's not going to matter much in the end, not with three
Newmans
after each of us,” he said. He'd gotten enough of a read before the enemy had also gone into stealth to know how badly they were in trouble.

---<>))))

“No, no, this isn't right. How are they finding us?!?” Admiral Frost demanded as he stormed onto the bridge twenty hours later. The twelve destroyers and CEV had locked onto their position and were homing in on them with unerring accuracy each time the battle cruiser attempted to maneuver.

“Sir?” the rating demanded.

“How?”

“Well, um …”

“Each time we maneuver using the main drive we scream here I am,” the captain said from behind them. They turned to look at her. “It's why they are all coming this way.”

“You knew … why?” the admiral whispered.

“Because, you ordered it, sir,” she said simply as she crossed the bridge to her chair. She took a seat. “Guns, time to intercept?”

“We are two hours outside extreme missile range of the first squadron, ma’am,” the tactical officer said. The acting JTO was in the hot seat; her senior had taken time off like the captain and admiral to get some much needed rest.

Not that anyone could rest easy under such circumstances.

“If we're lucky we'll get a piece of them. If we're really lucky, we'll get them to come at us piecemeal and be able to chew up each group in turn,” the captain said. “I for one do not count ourselves that lucky however,” she said as the plot changed.

“Ma'am, three ships have just lit off their drives ten million kilometers out and closing! They are battle cruisers!” a CIC rating said.

“And so it begins,” the captain said setting herself in her chair. “Battle stations!” she snarled, picking up her helmet to set it on her head and then dog it down.

---<>))))

“Probe them guns, see what they've got. I'm betting they've shot themselves pretty dry.”

“They could hold out, ma’am. Wait until we get deeper into their range to be sure of the shot,” the tactical officer warned.

“Quite possible, even probable. Let's see which way they jump,” Captain Samuels of the battle cruiser
Maine
stated. Her division mate
Taurek Ne Dor
was off on their port flank.
Justice
was on her starboard flank low, most likely feeling lonely because her usual division mate
Quenor
was off with
Lady Liberty
and
Freedom
running the other battle cruiser down.

“CIC has fingerprinted the ship as
Nevada
, ma’am. We are closest to them,” the CIC rating reported.

“Nice to know our opponent so we can carve their name on their tombstone,” Lobsterman stated.

“I'm not even going to give them the dignity of a grave,” Captain Samuels growled.

“I almost feel sorry for them,” Lobsterman replied. The captain eyed the A.I. in surprise. “Oh, I know what they've done. That's why I said almost, Captain.”

“They deserve this.”

“Some of them yes. The bridge crew? Undoubtedly so. But the people in the ranks? Enlisted? They followed orders. If the captain surrendered her ship, she and her bridge crew would be brought to trial and most likely executed. But they are selfish. They, she doesn't want to spare her crew the same fate.”

“Don't pity them. They made their bed, Lieutenant,” the captain said firmly.

“I know, ma’am. I don't sympathize with them. But I'm not going to let myself turn into the monster they've become, ma’am. I'm a professional officer bound by duty and honor. I won't forget that.”

Naomi shook herself and then nodded. “Point taken. I won't either,” she answered.

---<>))))

“Sir, they've found
Nevada
. She's taking long-range fire now.”

“I see it,” Captain Post growled, eyes locked on the plot. “Bastards,” he murmured under his breath.

“Sir,
Jean Lafitte
is making a run for the jump point!” the rating said, voice rising with hope.

“She'll never make it,” the captain growled, watching the plot with dread. It was all coming apart, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it.

---<>))))

When the light cruiser desperately lit off her drive, she let every ship in the area looking for her know where she was. She had fortunately maneuvered out of the searching destroyer's basket and even outmaneuvered the fighters and drones looking for her.

But the moment the ship lit off her drive, it screamed here I am to all of those ships. They charged in behind her, dogging her heels as she raced for the jump point.

The battle cruisers
Vigilance
and
Independence
were there waiting for her. Ahead of them came a squadron of fighters and bombers to soften the ship up. Her high speed and course forced them to fire from range and then turn to try to race the ship back to
Kittyhawk
.

The incoming weapons hammered into the bow of the ship's shields, tearing at it. A lot of the hastily fired weapons lost lock and self-destructed.

The battle cruisers launched their fighters then when they too only got a piece of the ship they maneuvered to take the ship between them. Weapon fire thundered out; first missiles, then grasers and force beams ripped at the ships.
Jean Lafitte
did her best to answer the fire with her defiance, but it was too little, and spread between two superior opponents. She never stood a chance. Before she'd gotten halfway between the two mastiffs guarding her exit, it was over. She was a drifting wreck, breaking up as they and the fighters they had launched hastily moved out of the way.

Search and Rescue shuttles were dispatched, but there was little hope of recovering any survivors.

---<>))))

Captain Mueller saw
Jean Lafitte's
run and saw how it ended but she couldn't bother herself by paying too close attention to it. She had other problems on her mind as she fought for her own ship's survival.

The odds were not good. Not good at all. And they were getting worse by the minute she noted absently as the enemy battle cruisers got into extreme missile range. They'd been probing her, throwing missiles her way at extreme range. She'd done her best to dance her ship out of range, but she knew the odds were stacked against her. With three battle cruisers trying to bracket her, it was only a matter of time before one pushed her into the arms of the others.

---<>))))

Captain Post grimaced. They were down to the two battle cruisers.

“Can we call them?” he asked the comm rating.

“I … sir the jamming is too thick. And with their maneuvering, there is no way we could lay a whisker laser on them with any sort of success.”

“Understood,” the captain said, turning back to watch the plot. “You're on your own, Shantell. Spirit of space speed,” he murmured.

---<>))))

Admiral Frost clutched his chest and started wheezing as the battle cruisers used their superior speed to race into their extreme missile range. Since they didn't have any remaining capital ship missiles, they couldn't respond to the fire. And they had to ration their few counter missiles and decoys.

“They are testing us. Testing our resolve, trying to get us to fire and waste missiles. Trying to get us to divide our fire, ma’am. We need to pick a target and hammer them,” the tactical officer stated.

“Tell me something I don't know,” Shantell said as she turned to the admiral. His meaty hand clutched at his chest and his color was off. His lips were blue. He managed to get to his feet just in time to keel over.

“Ma'am, the admiral's suit vitals are spiking! He's having a heart attack!” the Con officer said, turning to help the admiral.

“Belay that. Man your post,” the captain said firmly. The officer blinked in surprise and hesitated. “I said man your post, mister!” she snarled, making him go back to his post.

“The admiral's vitals are flatlining, ma’am,” the XO said quietly.

“Good,” the captain said quietly and coldly.

The XO knelt next to the body after a minute and shut the keening tone off. He checked for a pulse but didn't find one. He looked up to the captain and shook his head silently.

“Very well,” she replied with a nod. “No need to call medical then.”

Captain Mueller delayed calling a corpsman to recover his body. “I wish that fat bastard would have done that two days ago. Hell, months ago. He might have saved us in the end,” the captain growled.

“Ma'am, permission to speak freely?” the comm rating asked.

“What am I going to do, shoot you? What?” the captain asked.

“I just wish you'd shot him earlier, ma’am,” he said. “That was all I was going to say.”

“I wish I had,” she muttered. “I wish I had,” she said again as the missiles began to fly at her ship.

“Incoming! Twelve, now twenty-four, now thirty-six missiles incoming! Now forty-eight and climbing!”

“Guns, defensive plan Kappa. Do what you can. Helm, keep them off our wounded flank as much as you can,” Captain Mueller ordered.

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

“New course,” she ordered, feeling a cool resolve fill her. “Turn us into them. Down their throats,” she growled. “We'll go down fighting and take at least one of the bastards with us,” she snarled.

She thought for a moment and then stabbed her thumb down on the intercom switch. “Attention, this is the captain speaking. We're about to engage the enemy. We are not likely to survive the encounter, but intend to take at least one of the bastards down with me before we go. Anyone who wants to get out, go now,” she said, turning to survey the group. “I personally won't see it as cowardice,” she said, dropping the broad hint that others might. “I can't guarantee you will survive in the void to be picked up. Nor can I guarantee you won't face a trial and execution. But I leave it up to you,” she said, closing the channel.

“Well?” she demanded of her bridge crew.

They exchanged looks. “We'll go down fighting, ma’am,” the XO said firmly. “Not many get to choose their deaths. I chose this—to fight with my crew mates.”

“Thank you,” Shantell murmured gratefully. “Target the nearest Tango to the jump point. Let's see if she's willing to dance.” She eyed the target as her ship maneuvered for what might be the final time. “You're in my way.
Move
,” she growled, showing her teeth.

---<>))))

Since
Maine
was the closest to her and in her way,
Nevada
targeted her initially. “Guns, fire as you bear.”

“She's moving fast, Captain. She's accelerating for us. She'll be in energy range in less than five minutes,” the tactical officer warned as missile spreads began to thunder silently out of their tubes towards the charging ship. “And we're not going to get a big enough piece of her to stop her cold, ma’am,” he warned as the massive ship turned bow on to the threat to absorb the fire with her strong bow shields. The missiles were being picked off by pretty good counter fire. The counter missiles sucked, but they had a fix for that. Instead of firing the crappy contact nukes at the other ship to waste them, they fired them to detonate
between
the two ships, blowing apart the missile spreads
Maine
tried to throw at them.

“Damn it!” the tactical officer swore.

“
Justice
is moving in on her flank. They are firing,” a CIC rating replied. “Broadside engagement commencing. The ship is rolling.”

“She's trying to protect her wounded flank,” Captain Samuels observed.