The Prize: Book One (14 page)

“Problem, Sir?”

“Yes.  Some unwanted guests turned up, a Thrakee battle group.  Captain Melche has deployed the fleet to engage them as we speak, so we will lose communications for a while when the shields go up.”

“Yes, Sir.  I understand.  Good luck.”  Ellis would have preferred to condemn him to deepest, darkest part of hell, but refrained from saying so.

CHAPTER - TEN:               Alert - Sigma Alpha Prime

After he finished talking with Sub Major Ellis, General Tandy returned to his favorite method of relaxation, happy to leave such mundane matters of Naval warfare up to Captain Melche.  As an army man, he didn't have the experience, or knowledge of Naval tactic to interfere in such things.  Settling down in the immersion couch, he flipped through the recording crystals and selecting one at random.  Plugging it in, he pulled the VR hood down with a sense of delightful anticipation.  For half an hour he re-visited one of his favorite 'interrogations' until a persistent buzzing sound finally caught his attention.  He pulled the VR glasses off with a soft curse, hating it when people interrupted him while he was relaxing.  Some time ago, he'd managed to obtain an illegal sensory input module that he and his victim  wore while 'interrogating' female suspects, thereby re-enjoying the full range of emotions, sights, sounds, and feelings later.  It was one of the many perks he enjoyed as Commander of the special operations group.  The moment he pushed the hood up, an ominous red light flashed on his communication consult caught his eye.  Closing his dressing gown, he ran his fingers through his short hair before keying the comm unit.

“Yes?”

“Captain Var Sarnoff Melche, here General.”  The image of the Captain flashed onto his screen.

General Tandy kept his face impassive, and thankfully, the video pickup just showed his head and shoulders.  Trust the effeminate snob to include his title and rank along with his name.  As if being a Var meant anything to him.  He was a highborn also, with a Var before his name, with an even high ranking than the Captain, but he didn't go around rubbing everyone's nose in it.

“What do you want Melche?”  Tandy asked off-handedly, not bothering to add the courtesy title.  Captain Melche's face tightened, but he managed to hold his tongue in check.

He noted General Tandy's flushed face and briefly wondered what the General was doing before the interruption.  Several things he'd rather not examine came to mind so he dismissed it.  There wasn't much Captain Melche could do about Tandy's lack of courtesy, seeing they were almost the same social rank.  A slight tightening of the jaw muscles told Tandy that is jibe had hit home.

“Our long-range picket ships have picked up a second battle group entering the systems.”  Behind the Captain, Tandy could see heightened activity in the CIC.

“A second battle group?”

“Yes, General.  We believe the second one is Silurian.”

“And what do you propose to do about them?”

“Engage them of course.”

Captain Var Sarnoff Melche cut the connection, thinking that it was a silly question for a military man like the General to ask.  Then again, he was IMPSEC, not regular Imperial fleet, so certain allowances had to be made.   The Captain put the General out of his mind and concentrated on the developing information in the main battle tank.  Even with the forward picket destroyer sending him continuous update, it still took time for light, and radio communication to crawl across the vast distances involved.  Thankfully, the Thrakee fleet entered the system at a different angle and time than the Silurian fleet.  Together, both fleets didn't equal his in tonnage or firepower, and it was doubtful either of them expected to run into anything as large as a Imperial Superdreadnoughts battle group.  Or each other for that matter.   However, together they presented a formidable force nonetheless, but then again they weren't together.  That meant they couldn't coordinate their fire, act in union, and neither could be sure the other wouldn't fire on them.  He, on the other hand, had no such restrictions and could fire at will on both.  It was more a question of which formation would give him the most flexible arrangement to engage both of them separately.  From his position in geo-sync orbit around the planet, he could move in any direction.  His brow furrowed in concentration for a moment before smoothing as he made his decision.  His fingers played across the optical keyboard on the arm of his chair for a moment.

“Helm.  Stand ready to bring us to this course, and two third ahead on all engines.”  He said, sending the new data to the helm and communications sections.

“Aye -aye, Sir.”

“Communications.  Send the new course and heading to all elements of the battle group.  Bring the fleet into combat formation Delta-Sierra three.”

“Aye - aye, Captain.  Sending to all units now.”

“Helm.  Execute new course and heading on my mark.”  Captain Melche forefinger tapped a slow tattoo on the arm of his chair, not in impatient, more as a count.  He knew almost to the second how long it should take for his message to arrive, and a response returned.  The reply arrived within five beats of his mental clock.

“All units have responded and will execute on your mark, Captain.”  Captain Melche looked around the CIC one last time, seeing the tense, but eager faces of his staff.  They were as ready as they could be.  Now it was in the hands of the gods of war.

“Mark in ten.”

As he said it, the synchronized combat clock began to run, counting down the second to each mark, and the battle itself.  The Thrakee fleet remained on an interception course with the Silurian battle group, but with no open declaration of war between the Thrakee and the Silurian government, the Silurian fleet Commander wasn't sure what to do.  That restriction didn't hamper the Thrakee.  The moment the Silurian battle group came within their engagement envelope, they opened fire with a storm of hyper velocity missiles.  Without knowing whether or not the Tellurian's and the Silurian government were acting in concert, they weren't taking any chances.  A slight smile played about Captain Melche lips as the belated information of the Thrakee launch came up on his battle board.

It was one thing he counted on, and the fortunes of war had favored him this time.  As the Tellurian battle fleet drew closer, the information in the 'tank' updated faster until they reach their engagement envelope at one light minute.  By then it could be called 'real' time as much as real time information was concerned in multi-spatial battles fought at such distances.  Until the ordnance arrived one way or the other, a space battle was akin to a slow motion ballet.  Once the ordnance arrived, time sped up, and sometimes felt as if it exceeded the speed of light as the hell fire of a multi-mega ton nuclear warhead detonated near or against the hull.  How many actually impacted on the hull strictly depended on the effectiveness of the point defense systems.  If they were quick and lucky, few if any ever reached the hull, especially the heavy weights ordnance the Superdreadnought and Imperial battle cruiser could throw.  Lesser ships, such as light cruisers and destroyers didn't fare so well.  Many simply vanished in a blinding flash of light and heat in complete silence when their speed and agility weren't sufficient to get them out of trouble.  When that happened, Captain Melche silently, and without comment mourned their loss and that of their valiant crew as he continues the battle.  Tears would come later if they survived.  Surprised, as they were, the Silurian's Commander had sufficient time to launch their own birds and get their shields up before the Thrakee bombardment arrived.  After that, it was just a question of how good their point defense system was.  From Captain Melche point of view it was lacking.  Many of the Thrakee missiles got through and by the time the battle tank updated fully a quarter of the Silurian battle fleet was no more.

“Engagement range in 25 seconds, Captain.”

“Acknowledged.  Send to all units.  Attack formation Sierra-Delta four on my mark ten count.”

“Aye-aye, Sir.  Sending.”  With his hand on his chin, Captain Melche tapped his lower lip.

It was all about timing, he thought as he looked at the attack track on the board.  They would intersect both enemy fleets perfectly if both remained on the same heading, and speed.  The Thrakee were notorious for one thing.  They liked to attack straight on if they couldn't attack from ambush.  There would be no ambush here as the scope was now clear out to fifteen light minuets.  If there were a second Thrakee fleet out there waiting to pounce, it would be too late.  By the time they arrived, the outcome of this battle would be decided, and he still had time to turn and face any new threat.  As he predicted, the Silurian battle group pulled away, back out of the gravity well to the safety of hyperspace.  The moment their intention became clear, the Thrakee fleet Commander turned his attention to the Tellurian fleet.  Sadly he turned his attention back too late to alter his attack pattern and simply went full speed ahead straight toward the Tellurians.

“Mark!”  Captain Melche barked.

As the count reached ten, the fleet around him slowly spread out into attack pattern Sierra-Delta four, splitting into a four-armed star out of the original cone shaped formation.  As the Thrakee drove in, they discovered they'd rushed into an ambush themselves.  Each of the four arms curved out, and away from the center where the superdreadnought sat, almost acting like pivot point.  The Thrakee fleet entered what they thought was a thinly spread cone of ship, finding instead that each of the four arms could pour fire down on them in a concentrated broadside.  That wasn't to say they didn't launch their own storm of missiles, they did, but nothing like the concentrated fire of the Tellurians.  The Thrakee shield and point defense systems were far superior to the Silurian, but the sheer number of successive waves of missiles simply overwhelmed them. 

CHAPTER - ELEVEN:                Party Crashers - Sigma Alpha Prime

Ellis wasn't sure which way the battle upstairs would end.  Either way, they were stuck here until they could get to the pyramid and switch off whatever was causing the gravity effect.  Later that evening a bright flare lit the night sky, followed moments later by a sonic boom.  They watched through an opening in the canopy as something large plummeted down and vanished from sight.  Whatever it was, the bright flash and ground shaking impact came a moment later.  The ensuing shock wave bent the treetops and showered them with leaves, small branches, and dead insects.  Thankfully, the trees, thick vegetation, and hilly landscape protected them from the flash and thermal bloom when the containment field around the fusion bottle gave way.

"Ours or theirs.  Major?” the Captain asked softly.  Major Ellis shook her head and brushed the dead bugs and debris off her sleeping mat.

"We'll know tomorrow, Captain.”

Ellis felt a sense of relief when the General answered her call the next day, not sure why she should, under the circumstances.  The Imperial fleet won the battle by driving the last, unsuspecting enemies' superdreadnought close to the planet where the gravitational effect took over and dragged it to its death.  General Tandy's closing remarks counteracted any relief she felt.

"You can expect company Major,” Tandy warned, “we drove the remainder off, severely damaged, but not before both the Thrakee and Silurian managed to launch a number of assault craft.”  That wasn't the sort of news she was hoping for, but not unexpected.

“We were unable to spot them originally due to the amount of drifting debris, and by the time we did we were too late to stop them.  It is imperative you get to the pyramid before they do as we have no way of knowing if they survived the landing or not.”

"Thank you Sir.  I understand.”  As she signed off, Ellis wondered how long it would be before they ran into trouble.  They got their first inkling the next day when Penn, who was on point as usual, dived into the brush.

“Down!” he yelled.

Everyone ducked for cover but one, Trooper Rune didn't react fast enough and paid the price as a well-aimed burst of fire took his head off.  Blood, bone, and brain matter splattered the nearby troops as his head exploded.  Some swore while others spat the horrible mess out of their mouth, while another threw up as they wiped his blood and brains off his faces.  Troopers, Callis whimpered softly to herself, biting her lower lip to stop from screaming as the headless body of Rune flopped to the ground beside her.  Trooper Gelbow took a non-lethal hit in the side, where the armor was weakest, cursing as he went down.  Clearly, whoever was firing at them knew about the troopers' body armor.  They returned fire, unable to see who they were shooting at in the thick underbrush, simply firing in the direction of the muzzle flashes.