Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (67 page)

“So … do we keep up the dance?”

“We do. We've been working our way down the negative Z axis. That's undoubtedly cleared the way for the admiral to go high above the plane to the jump point. If we keep the enemy on us, we can buy him the time he needs to get across the star system.”

“Setting aside the problem of the ships he's currently about to be engaged by, what about those frigates?”

“Ah them. Well, I think we can do something to distract them,” Arnold said with a tired smile.

She nodded once. “We'll get one shot.”

“They don't have to hit. They just have to keep them busy,” he said. “Bank shots off of gravitational wells, anything to keep them busy and more importantly, scattered.”

“I'll get my tactical crew on it.”

“Tap the navigators to do the shots. If your gun crews are anything like mine, I know they are wiped out,” Arnold said.

She nodded reluctantly. “Yes, sir they are.”

“Good. Let's see if we can throw a couple missiles in there too.”

“Missiles?”

“We'll shoot them out on our internal drivers with a time delay to light off their engines. Let them go in for the KEW strikes, then the missiles will come as an unwelcome surprise.”

“Catch them between two threats. I like it.”

“That part we can leave up to our tactical departments I suppose,” Captain Post said. He forced himself to suppress a yawn. He'd cut himself off of caffeine after the second day, stims too. Too much caffeine tore his stomach up and gave him the runs and he could ill afford that distraction at the moment. Every moment was important, possibly crucial. He might miss something vital if he wasn't careful though.

“I'm having my navigators set up the jump too, sir. In case we get more than we bargained for in response,” Shantell said, eying him. He nodded. The yawn finally won. “Quit that. It's catchy,” Shantell quipped with a brief trace of a smile.

When he finished he shrugged. “Damn. Yes, I agree. I'll have mine do the same.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Let's do this,” he said, cutting the channel.

---<>))))

Captain Z'll was one unhappy bug. You'd think that with the mission he'd been assigned it would have been easy. A trap, he had enough forces, and knew the enemy's numbers and timing. But it wasn't going to be that easy he thought, they were going to have to work hard for the win, if they got the chance.

He had seen the opportunity of independent command as a two-edged sword. On one side there was opportunity, opportunity of fast advancement, glory, recognition, and revenge. Now that other edge was coming back to potentially wound him or at least his career.

“Sir, the hyperdrive energy emissions continue to mount. They are definitely charging for a skip.”

“They are insane,” the tactical officer said.

“No, desperate. Vector our fighters in. But warn them to be careful; if they get in too close, they might bite off more than they can chew,” the captain said.

“Aye, sir. Any other orders?”

“Targets of opportunity of course. The longer they draw the enemy down keeping them off them with their shields and point defense the less power they have to charge those hyperdrives and the more time we've got to get someone else in to make the difference. Make their shots count.”

“Aye, sir.”

---<>))))

Admiral Von Berk pounded his arm rests as the engineers gave him their latest assessment. There were all sorts of problems with the hyperdrive and engineering. The ships weren't cooling off fast enough. “Unacceptable! Move! We don't have time! Cut corners if you have to, but we need to jump
now
!”

“We're trying, sir,” Captain Bordou said. She licked her lips nervously. She was aware that the admiral's desperation was making him as much of a threat to her and her ship as the enemy forces bearing down on their position.

“Try harder!”

She nodded once and then went to rally more hands to help the overworked engineers. He looked over to the water dweller Mara. She was draped over the side of the coffin like tank, breathing heavily. He shook his head and looked away.

He knew they couldn't change cold hard math, nor physics. Heat and energy discharges only dissipated at specific rates. They could, however, do their best to route around the problems, and they damn well better get around their own fatigue and mental problems. Otherwise there would be no tomorrow.

His eyes returned to the plot. The first fighter squadron had finished forming up and was bearing down on them. He played with the vectors and noted they were going after the easy fish, the tenders.

“Sir, their targets … should we cover the tenders?” Captain Bordou asked, looking up.

“We will not,” the admiral said tartly. “They don't have the legs or shields. Order them to maneuver closer to the warships nearest them but keep the hyper lanes clear.”

“Aye, sir.” She hesitated, then nodded once and then passed on the order.

It was a race now. He knew the military grade equipment on the warships was far more robust and had enough redundancies in them to recharge faster and handle the strain they had all been under better than the civilian grade crap on the tenders. He felt a brief faint trace of regret at not insisting the ships had been refitted with military grade equipment.

That was water over the damn and under the bridge though, he thought. They were committed. The ships and their desperate crews would jump … or not. And if they didn't the self-destruct he'd programmed into them would finish the job of keeping them out of enemy hands he thought coldly.

He eyed the deployment of smaller ships in the inner system. It took him a moment to realize they were moving to intercept shots from the battle cruisers. That gave him an idea. “Do we have any KEW packages left?” he asked.

“Sir, diverting power will drag down our jump time …” Rick warned.

“Do we or not, Commander?” the admiral rounded on him.

“Let me check. I think we had two or three left on Calico Jack, sir.” The chief of staff nervously tapped at his tablet for the light cruiser's inventory while his admiral drummed his fingers on his hips. He heard a grunt of irritation before he nodded. “Got it. They have three, sir.”

“Only three?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell them to fire on the planet. Hell, everyone fire something. Throw the kitchen sink if you have to. One shot for the other ships.”

“Sir?”

“It'll keep the enemy busy. Hopefully they'll divert forces to try to run the shots down. That will give us more time.”

“Aye, sir,” Rick said frowning as he passed the order along.

---<>))))

Captain C'lax saw the incoming new fire and clacked in anger. The Fourth Fleet raiders had launched another orbital bombardment of the planet; one his two squadrons were ill placed to intercept since the battle cruisers had done the same an hour earlier.

“Order second squadron to interdict the new shots,” he growled.

“Sir! Missiles from the battle cruisers have lit off their drives!” a rating reported.

He swore. The timing couldn't be even more bad from his perspective. The missiles had timed their drive activation to just after the frigates of first squadron had begun to maneuver. It caught them off guard and out of position to intercept effectively.

There was no way they could intercept them Captain C'lax of
Farragut
realized after his ship's computers dispassionately showed him the numbers and course projections. He looked around the

compartment, saw the tension, the desperate urge for him to come up with a miracle … unlikely he thought.

Apparently his last spat of combat in the old girl before his recently acquired promotion and transfer would be tainted. “Warn them,” Captain C'lax said, sounding defeated. “Warn them they are coming.”

“Sir, the OWPs?”

“They'll have their shot but those missiles are coming in fast and hot, near half the speed of light. It's like trying to hit a moving target you can hardly see with weapons that are barely fast enough to do the job. If they throw enough mass in front of them, they might get lucky. I doubt it. The way this engagement has run … warn the planet. Tell them to evacuate. When we know more, they'll know more,” he said.

“Aye aye, sir.” Hating eyes stared at the icons moving to the planet. They were helpless to stop them; not even their missiles could catch them.

---<>))))

Captain Z'll saw the ship's hyperspace charge building and knew his people wouldn't be able to prevent it. He swore in Veraxin then turned to his com rating. “Warn the flag we can't stop them.”

“Aye, sir. Flag is most likely off position, sir, to intercept,” the rating said, pointing to the plot. “If they are smart, they know it.”

“Just as they'd hoped and planned I suppose. Damn it,” the Veraxin clacked in righteous annoyance at being thwarted.

---<>))))

“Sir, we're ready as we'll ever be. We've got a full court press of flies swarming in. We've got less than ten minutes before they are all over us.”

“If we're going to do this, we've got to do it now and make it count,” Rick said.

“Then let's do it,” Admiral Von Berk said, settling himself in his chair. “Captain, rig for hyperspace insertion. Skip when ready.”

“Aye, sir. Fleet signal from flag, rig for hyperspace skip. Nav, we need that data on the helm and the other ships pronto,” Captain Bordou growled. She began to issue a blizzard of orders readying her ship for the jump.

---<>))))

Lieutenant JG Kurosi saw the charging hyperdrives along with the static discharges. The void was crackling with energy, any free atoms in the area were turning blue. He swore viciously and pulled his fighter up and away from them before a random bolt of energy found him. “All fighters and bombers, break off! I say again, break off. If you can't fire, get the hell clear! There is nothing more we can do here,” he said, voice turning leaden.

They'd had their shot but missed it by a tiny margin. But it was just that little bit that was enough to yank his victory and throw it into the jaws of defeat.

---<>))))

“This is going to be close, sir,” Captain Bordou said.

“Perhaps too close for comfort for the fighters. They should break off,” the chief of staff said hopefully. “Unless they want to get fried by our discharge when we jump.”

“They will. But we're pushing things here,” the captain said, shaking her head.

“Do it,” the admiral said as space around the bow of the ship began to ripple and fold. “Too late to stop now. We're committed,” he said.

A few minutes later they came out of hyperspace more or less where they had intended with the forced skip. All eight of the warships had manage the jump into hyperspace with varying degrees of success. All six surviving tenders had also attempted the jump; however, one failed to get into hyperspace and broke up behind the retreating fighters.

As the plot stabilized, the admiral groaned, staring at the status board. The compartment was dim, only the emergency lights were on. Sparks flew from behind a bulkhead. A rating moved in cautiously with a fire extinguisher but the sparks went out. He ignored it, his eyes were only on the status board.

He noted the missing ships and scowled. Apparently Captain Cory had fought his last;
Arrogant
had never made it out of hyperspace when they had exited. Her division mate
Jack Sparrow
had exited the jump over a light minute beyond their position. She had no energy readings however. As he watched she pitched turned into a tumble, a dead stick. There was no response to Rick's hails. He wasn't sure if they should even bother.

Lingchi
had made it, but since she was built off of an
Arboth
hull, she was struggling like the other destroyer-sized craft. He saw her engines puff and her running lights go out briefly before they came back on. Apparently they were still in the fight despite only having one fighter left on board. All the good.

The last two destroyers
Brigadoon
and
Judas Kiss
had nearly collided upon exit. Their hyperspace discharges had torn at each other's shields. Some of the force emitter pods had failed, and they had popped like overripe fruit in the hot sun. They too tumbled, adrift but with signs of life. They were dim signs however. He knew they were done.

So were the tenders he thought sourly, watching them drift too. He should finish them off himself, but instead forced himself to give their crews time to pull off one more miracle.

Even though he privately doubted they could do it. Their string of luck had been pressed for too long. Eventually Lady Luck would tire of her aide in their cause and turn away from them.

---<>))))

Amadeus saw the skip on the plot even before the report came in over the tachyon transceiver. He also saw the ships pop out of hyperspace minutes later, on the positive Z axis, out near the B-95a3 jump point behind him. They came out raggedly, however; the jump had cost them he thought. Not enough though, a small corner of his mind whispered. He noted the lost ships, but they were small compensation for the losses.