Star Force 12 Demon Star (14 page)

If they cruised on through instead, they could do a lot of damage, but then they’d be in the same position we predicted for Trinity-9—having to turn around and come back for a serious assault.

I ordered my little squadron to take a similar but separate course that would have allowed the Demons to overtake us, but place us at long range. We could apparently accelerate faster than the Elladans, a fact I found interesting.

We couldn’t be sure of their ships’ limitations, though, as neither ally had provided specs on their respective ships. I couldn’t really blame them. I wouldn’t have given info like that to a bunch of new people that popped into the Solar System either. Still, I would think that if the Elladans could move faster, they would be doing it in order to get home in time to fight.

The Whales shifted their defenses too, placing their warships behind their moon fortresses, setting them up as shields against kinetic strikes. It was the space borne equivalent of digging foxholes, in case we were correct in our guesses. From their chosen positions, they could strike with beams as the Demon ships went by.

Hansen stood next to me at the holotank as the timer ticked down. “Almost there,” he said unnecessarily. I could see the situation as well as he could.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Good luck, Whales. Now we’ll see if Bradley was right. Glad we’re a long ways away.” We were far ahead of the Demons, of course, on our way to Ellada, though the enemy was coming after us like a speeding freight train.

In the tank, we watched as three hundred red pinpricks suddenly blossomed into thousands and began to maneuver. Contacts broke apart and separated.

“A missile barrage,” Hansen said. “There are more than a thousand new contacts.”

“Targets?” I asked.

“Plotting. It’ll take a few seconds to determine their trajectories.”

It was my guess they were firing at the Whale ships as they flew by. I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. They’d probably spotted us by now as well.

While the enemy couldn’t alter course much, they could spread out, both sideways and front to back, and that was what they were doing. Now, instead of a compact fleet, they became an expanding and moving sphere.

The leading edge of the globe of Demon ships touched the Whale defenses. Red and green pixels winked out by the dozens. I zoomed in on the action and slowed down the recording, intensely curious about what exactly was happening in this titanic confrontation.

Increasing the resolution to maximum, I focused on one enemy. It turned out to be a needle shape, about a hundred feet long and two wide, like a very narrow missile body. It had no thrusters or repeller vanes that I could see, though perhaps it was too distant for such detail.

I followed it in as it struck a Whale orbital asteroid fortress, where it gouged out an enormous crater. Several others slammed into the same installation, and in short order the base had been turned into a smoking wreck.

“Bradley was right, more or less,” Hansen muttered. “Cheap kinetic missiles.” He pointed. “The Whales are taking some out, but they’re so slim that they’re hard to hit from the nose on, and even if they do…”

“There’s no real mechanism to damage. They have to be melted and forced off course by the heat and laser pressure, or they’re going to hit anyway.”

“At least the Whale warships won’t be taken out.”

I saw he was right. The Ketans’ cruisers were either shielded by their asteroid moons, or they were maneuvering to get out of the way of the Demons’ ballistic darts. With space so vast, it was actually quite easy to dodge non-maneuvering projectiles.

The Demon warships were another matter.

At such high speed, the battle took place within the space of minutes. In the end, the Whales had lost most of their relatively immobile fortresses, but only a few ships.

“What about this flock of contacts here?” I demanded, pointing out a swarm that had moved separately, past the rocky moonlets.

“Plotting. There—ah, that’s bad.”

The missiles weren’t heading toward the whale forts or their ships. They were headed toward the planet.

“They’re doing a civilian strike,” I said, watching grimly. “Do we know where they’ll land?”

Hansen shook his head. “We can figure out the coordinates, but not what’s down there in that soupy atmosphere. Let’s hope it’s not a bunch of Whale elementary schools.”

Helplessly, we watched these missiles plunge toward the gas giant. The Whale warships, sensing the threat, moved out from behind cover to intercept. Beams slashed out, taking a few of the missiles out—but the range was extreme and most of their shots missed.

“They can’t stop them,” I said. “But they feel they have to try. They’re out of position, and they’re going to get hurt.”

“That’s probably why the Demons did it, to draw out the Whale warships.”

The strategy was working. Dozens of Whale warships were hit and destroyed once they were out in the open.

We continued watching with tight-lipped concern as the missiles slammed down into the Ketan home world. The impact explosions brightened the atmosphere like lightning seen from above a cloud.

By this time, the Demon fleet had been reduced to half its original size, but most of that was due to their own design and strategy. Their slim ballistic missiles hadn’t been launched, but rather, they’d been split off. In other words, some of the enemy ships had been composed of nothing but a control mechanism and a bunch of darts stuck together to create a ship. When the time came, each traveling body disassembled itself, leaving nothing but an engine and a framework also aimed at a Whale fortress.

“Do you think they’ve saved more of those kinetic bundles for Ellada?” Hansen asked.

“Probably,” I said, “but our side will have an advantage for the next battle.”

He looked at me, questioning. “So, we’re going to get involved?”

“Don’t you think we ought to? They just struck civilian targets before our eyes.”

Hansen looked at the holotank but said nothing.

“The next wave of ships will have to decelerate at Ellada to fully engage,” I continued. “That will let us catch up to them. Unless I miss my guess, we’re going to create a lot of scrap for our factories.”

Hansen’s eyebrows went up even further. “Really? How?”

I smiled. “When I give the battle orders, XO, keep your eyes on the holotank.”

-12-

I spent the remainder of the day thinking. I’d almost decided to confront Sakura about what Kalu had dug up, but I now had decided against it. With us going into battle soon, she was vital to ship operations. Even if she had it in for me personally, there was no evidence she was a traitor to Star Force or wanted to sabotage the mission as a whole.

As long as I was careful and gave her—or whoever it was—no easy opportunities to get rid of me, it made more sense to let sleeping dogs lie.

I did drop by Hoon’s workshop in armor again. Suiting up in armor was a pain compared to wearing a spacer’s jumper, but it made me feel safer.

Hoon didn’t remark upon my equipment. Maybe a critter with an exoskeleton naturally assumed those without were happier when armored.

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Professor,” I began, “it seems you’re in the clear again, at least as far as anyone is.”

“Apology accepted, young Riggs. Now, I have much work to do.” He gestured toward the air-water-lock I’d only just entered.

“I didn’t apologize,” I growled, but then relented. “Whatever, if it makes you happy. I’m actually here to discuss any theories on the slime we found inside the Demon ship. And, I’d appreciate being addressed as ‘Captain.’”

“I’m sure you would. The slime is obviously shielding of some sort.”

I ignored his irascible commentary. “That’s what I thought…but for what?”

“The robot and I have two theories, but they’re farfetched.”

“Farfetched is better than none at all. Indulge me by speculating.”

“I’m not certain you could comprehend the mathematics.”

“Then leave it out and explain in layman’s terms.”

Hoon sighed, or at least that’s what came through my translation software. “Very well. As one of the less idiotic members of your species once wrote, eliminate the impossible and what remains, however improbable, must contain the truth.”

“You’re quoting Sherlock Holmes? You know he was a fictional character, right?”

“I’m quoting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Are you not aware that the author is actually the one who created the quote? Fictional characters cannot create.”

I threw up my hands. I should have known that putting Marvin and Hoon in the same room together was a mistake. “Argh. Go on—the slime is shielding?”

“If you want me to explain, you would do well to cease distracting me with irrelevancies.”

I kept my mouth shut and waited, teeth grinding.

“You do realize that slime, as you put it, has the purpose of preventing biological infections?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “At least, that’s what it does for humans.”

“Very good. But as far as we can tell, these Demons aren’t disease prone.”

“So…the slime prevents something else from getting through?”

“There is hope for you yet, young Riggs.”

“Sure, Hoonie-boy.”

“I find your mode of address entirely too informal.”

“Ditto, Professor.”

“Very well…
Captain
.”

What was with all these fat-brains that made them feel so superior? If they were genuinely so smart, they’d have figured out that scientific capability wasn’t the only measure of competence. “Please, Professor, cut to the chase.”

“That’s it. The mucus layer is designed to prevent the intrusion of biological agents. What kind and for what purpose is as yet unknown.”

I tried to scratch my head before I realized I was in armor. “I was hoping for more clear answers.”

“We all hope for the best, Riggs. We settle for realities and long periods of study. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my work.”

“Fine,” I said, and left.

Out in the hallway, I found myself cursing Hoon. He was smart and useful, but his attitude was extremely irritating.

“They’ve passed us, Captain,” Hansen said as I strode onto the bridge to get the latest update. I’d dropped off my suit at the armory.

“Got it,” I replied. “I had a notification trigger set with Valiant.”

In the holotank, I could see that the Demon fleet had overtaken us, far off to the side, and they were beginning to curve inward toward Ellada. From now on, we would be on converging courses, with our ships still accelerating to match speeds with the enemy.

We were a few hours from Ellada. Assuming the Demons were going to start braking soon, the plots we’d calculated predicted we’d catch their fleet by the time we reached the target planet. This would put the Demons between two forces—ours and the defenders, with the Elladans’ expeditionary fleet—the one that had been at Trinity-9 and was now running for home—also converging from the flank. They would be hours late to the party, but better late than never.

“There they go, right on time,” Bradley said from his usual position standing behind his drone controllers. He stared at the wall screen nearest him, which showed a simplified version of the situation.

I saw that he was right. Most of the Demon ships had begun to decelerate. Those that did not, Valiant marked as kinetic bundles. We wouldn’t be overtaking those. The Elladans would have to deal with them.

Tensely, I watched as our rate of closure increased. With us still accelerating and the enemy decelerating, we began to catch up faster and faster, even as we slid in behind them.

“Missiles?” Bradley asked.

“Not yet.”

“Daggers?”

“Just wait, CAG,” I said. “We’ve got this.”

As usual during battle, my mind had gone into overdrive, and I didn’t like people asking me questions. Then I relented a bit in order to explain. “If we launch drones or missiles now, they have to use their own fuel to keep accelerating. The longer we wait, the longer their range or patrol radius. It would be the opposite if we were decelerating.”

Bradley nodded, clearly worried that we had no drone support placed around our ships, but the range was still extreme. Because the enemy was slowing, they had the same problem with launching missiles or fighters. We were “uphill” from them. The longer they waited, the better their weapons would perform when launched backward at us.

Over the next couple of hours, as we came in from the side to take position behind the Demons, I watched the display. The arc representing the maximum effective range of
Stalker
’s big laser finally reached the rearmost Demon ship. “Valiant, tell Kreel to open fire.”

A moment later, a line of green stabbed at the enemy. “Damage?”

“Moderate.”

“Tell him to keep at it. Put me through to Cornelius.”

“Cornelius here, Captain,” the muscular woman’s crisp Teutonic voice replied a moment later.

“We’ll enter long range for our lasers in less than an hour, Chief. This will be a pure beam fight until we overtake them, so the gun deck is going to get a workout.”

“No problem, sir. We’re ready.”

“Glad to hear it. Stand by, Riggs out.”

The Demons began to alter their motion, wiggling their drives slightly to make their individual paths less predictable while still lined up along their overall deceleration route. This made them harder to hit, but decreased the efficiency of their maneuvers with wasted motion and forced them to spread out as well. All this was good for the Elladans and for us. I’d take anything that multiplied the enemy’s problems.

Over the next half an hour, three enemy ships flared and were marked destroyed as
Stalker
’s massive beam cannon slammed shot after shot into the rear of the enemy fleet despite their evasive maneuvers. Our assumptions proved correct—they were highly vulnerable from this angle, because the Demon ships were designed to fight from the broadside, not from the stern or bow.

While putting an engine in each end allowed for unorthodox maneuvers, it also meant that from this direction, their armor was thin. They had little more than a clamshell that slid over the fusion exhaust port. They didn’t seem to have shields or screens.