In Her Name: The Last War (48 page)

Read In Her Name: The Last War Online

Authors: Michael R. Hicks

As for the human fleet, they were just visible on the far side of the planet, also trying to regain the orbital high ground after what must have been an uncomfortably close run to low altitude. Unless the sensors were off, there were far fewer human ships than when
McClaren
had originally jumped in. It was difficult to tell from what the passive sensors could make out, as they were not nearly as sensitive or accurate as the active sensors, but if he was guessing right, Admiral Tiernan and the Alliance admiral were maneuvering to engage the Kreelan force that was staying in high orbit. Sato couldn’t be sure of the number of ships on each side, but he could tell that it was going to be close enough that even a single destroyer might be able to make a big difference. He had no intention of letting
McClaren
miss this fight.

Setting his fears and reservations aside, Sato tightened the straps, the ones that Captain Morrison had neglected to use, on the captain’s combat chair. Opening a channel to the crew, he said, “This is Lieutenant...” Then he stopped himself. He was no longer simply a lieutenant of the Terran Navy. As fate had decreed, he was now the commander of a warship. “This is the captain,” he told them. “As you know, while we have been able to repair much of the critical damage to the ship, we can’t jump into hyperspace and return to the rendezvous point and the repair ships. And even if we could, I wouldn’t: our fleet and that of the Alliance have taken heavy losses, and it looks like Admiral Tiernan,” Sato assumed the admiral was still alive, “is leading an engagement against the enemy in high orbit. We are going to join in that attack.” He paused, thinking about his ill-fated ship’s few minutes in action before they were struck. “The enemy thought they killed our ship and that we are no longer a threat. I plan to prove them wrong. Remember our fallen shipmates, and do your best. That is all.”

Switching off the ship-wide channel, he said to Bogdanova, whom he had moved to the navigator’s position, “Stand by to maneuver.” The ship was still on a ballistic trajectory, rotating slowly about its long axis.

“Standing by, sir,” she answered. She was still afraid, but wasn’t terrified as she had been under Morrison’s lashing tongue. Like the others among the crew, she wanted payback from the enemy. More than that, she trusted Sato. 

“Maneuvering thrusters,” Sato ordered. “Bring her straight and level, helm, zero mark zero.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Bogdanova touched the controls, at first with unsure fingers, but she quickly gained confidence as the ship began to respond to her commands.

For Sato, it was a very tense moment, because they hadn’t been able to test any of the ship’s systems for fear of drawing the enemy’s attention before they were ready. But having repaired the primary kinetics - two of the main batteries were fully functional - along with a pair of medium lasers and the close-in defense lasers on the starboard side, the ship could at least mount a credible defense. And with the pulse cannon, if it were properly used, and a brace of torpedoes, she still packed an offensive punch, too. But the maneuvering systems and the main drives, despite Chief DeFusco’s belief that everything was functional, were still an uncertainty in his mind. 

“The ship is at zero mark zero, system relative,” Bogdanova reported. She had stopped the ship’s tumbling, and now had her level relative to Keran’s orbital plane, pointing toward the system’s star.

“Very good, helm,” Sato said, nodding. “Let’s see if we can’t get back into the game. All ahead one quarter, course zero four six mark zero zero seven.” He was hoping that by not using any active sensors and keeping his acceleration low, the enemy ships might not notice him for a while, allowing them to get closer. He had not tried to raise the fleet for fear of being discovered prematurely by their signal emissions.

“All ahead one quarter, aye.” Bogdanova smoothly advanced the analog control handle, which looked much like a throttle might have in fighter aircraft centuries before, to the appropriate stop. The actual propulsion control system and the underlying calculations behind “one quarter” power and the other standard settings were far more complex than simply moving a handle, but the simpler interface was more efficient for the human part of the control loop. After a moment, Bogdanova reported, “Sir, engineering answers all ahead one quarter, and the ship is now on course zero four six mark zero zero seven.”

Sato’s tension began to quickly fade as the deep and steady thrum of the ship’s drives continued without the slightest indication of trouble. He watched her icon on the tactical display as the
Owen D. McClaren
once again sailed into harm’s way.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

“We’ve got to withdraw whatever ground troops are left, admiral,” Tiernan told Admiral Lefevre over the vidcom. “The Kreelans are sending what looks like another strike force down to the surface. After the mauling our troops took from the first Kreelan attack, there won’t be much left of them after a second.”

While the ships of the combined human fleet had suffered only minor damage from the Kreelan force that had assaulted the planet, both the Terran and Alliance ground troops had suffered heavy casualties. Citing the inhumanly accurate fire from the Kreelan ships and the fearless warriors, General Ray’s last report over his tactical laser uplink had painted a grim picture of the situation before the fleet had lost communications with both him and the general commanding the Alliance ground forces. None of the ground forces had been heard from since, although direct observations from the telescopes and other sensors aboard the human ships left little doubt that their troops on the ground were fighting for their lives. And losing. 

“I agree,
mon amiral
,” Lefevre said. “Recovering your troops must be the priority, as we do not have enough combat-capable lift capacity to retrieve our own.” Those words were a heavy burden on Lefevre’s soul, for he had just condemned tens of thousands of men and women to death if the combined human fleet failed to win the battle in space. 

Tiernan gently contradicted him. “I believe you may be mistaken, sir, based on the projected losses we’re coming up with. Unless we’re badly mistaken, and I wouldn’t mind being wrong on this one, the corps we sent in has maybe a brigade left, if that. And if your units have suffered similar losses, the available carriers may be enough to lift out the survivors.”


Mon Dieu
,” Lefevre whispered. His own operations staff had come to similar conclusions, but he hadn’t wanted to believe them. He still didn’t. There had been ten Alliance divisions on the surface. To think that the survivors of both forces would now fit into six assault carriers was simply unthinkable. And this after only the first Kreelan assault wave. 

“I’ve already dispatched our courier ship to the rendezvous point to bring back our carriers,” Tiernan told him. The four Terran carriers had jumped out to a holding position that was far enough away that they were safe from attack, but close enough in case they needed to be recalled quickly. He just hoped they would be able to return quickly enough.

“I will do the same,” Lefevre said. “But I am not willing to concede defeat.”

“Nor am I, sir,” Tiernan reassured him. “I believe that the enemy is giving us an opportunity in disguise,” he went on, eyeing the second assault force, which was roughly a third of the enemy’s ship strength, as they began to head toward Keran. The first wave, the one that the human fleet had met head-on in the upper reaches of Keran’s atmosphere, had almost rejoined the main group in high orbit. “The timing will be tricky, but if we can engage the second wave as they come up from Keran, we should have at least a two to one advantage in firepower. Of course, that assumes that the remaining enemy ships are content to stay in high orbit.”

Lefevre offered a Gallic shrug. “Something we can never count on, the enemy doing what we would like. Still, it is an opportunity we cannot reasonably pass up. My operations officer will coordinate for maneuvering orders, since we still have no data-link connectivity. Then we will see if we cannot teach our blue-skinned friends a thing or two about naval combat.”

* * *

Aboard the
Alita
, Amelia Cartwright waited tensely as the ship’s navigation computer counted down the remaining seconds to their emergence into normal space. While she certainly didn’t mind helping the fleet by acting as their courier, she also was itching to do more than just ferry messages back and forth. But
Alita
wasn’t built for combat. In any engagement, the best she could be was a target, albeit a fast one.

“Transpace sequence in three...two...one,” the computer announced. “Transpace sequence complete.” Suddenly the swirling nothingness of hyperspace displayed on the screen before her dissolved into pinpoints of light and the glowing orb of Keran. 

“Shit,” Sid, her copilot, whispered as the sensor display stabilized and began to paint the situation in the space around the planet, with the large cloud of blue icons facing off against the red. “The admiral’s going to kick some ass.”

Cartwright nodded, taking a look at the tactical display as she made sure that the ship had come through the jump in one piece. A Kreelan force had headed down to the planet, and it was clear that Tiernan was maneuvering to try and catch the Kreelans on the flip side as they climbed out of the gravity well after their attack. So far the Kreelans remaining in high orbit were staying put, but she knew that wouldn’t last if they had any sense at all.

“Five seconds for the carriers,” Sid reminded her as she maneuvered the ship, taking her well forward of the carriers’ inbound jump point. She had taken
Alita
in first to scout the situation and have a warning prepared for the carriers in case they were jumping into a hot zone. At this point, they were safe.

“There they are,” Cartwright told him, seeing the four blue icons representing the Terran carriers materialize right behind
Alita
on the tactical display. “
Guadalcanal
,” she called over the vidcom, “it looks like you’re clear for now. We’ll proceed ahead of you to make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for you.”

“Roger that,
Alita
,” the lead carrier’s captain said. “We appreciate the assist. I’ve got to contact Admiral Tiernan.
Guadalcanal
, out.”

“You sure you want to do this?” Sid asked her quietly, looking at the swarm of ships ahead of them moving toward a massive clash.

She gave him a determined look. “We can’t just run, Sid,” she told him. “I know we’re not in the Navy, but we’ve got the fastest ship in the system, and we’ve got to help if we can.”

Sid only nodded and readjusted his cowboy hat as he squirmed a bit deeper in his seat. 

With a tingle of fear running down her spine, Cartwright throttled up the engines and led the four assault carriers toward Keran.

* * *

“Dammit!” Tiernan cursed under his breath. “So,” he growled at his flag communications officer, “you’re telling me that we still have no communication with anyone on the ground?”

“Correct, sir,” the commander replied, trying not to flinch. “We haven’t been able to get any voice or vidcom signals from the surface. The only way we might be able to get through is a direct laser link, but it’s going to have to be a very low orbit pass, and the ship will only have a few minutes over any given location before it passes over the horizon and out of range.”

Tiernan wasn’t angry at his officer, just at the damnable situation. Whatever weapon the Kreelans had used earlier that had knocked out much of the human fleet’s communications capability had completely befuddled the communications experts on both the Alliance and the Terran ships. Absolutely nothing that used the radio frequency spectrum would work. Direct laser communications still worked for basic voice and vidcom, but not for the data-link systems, even though there seemed to be nothing wrong with any of the equipment and software. 

Regaining communications with the ground forces was vital in order to get them to assembly areas where the assault boats from the carriers could retrieve them: Tiernan couldn’t have the boats wandering across the planet looking for his people. The carriers had to be able to get in and out quickly, as Tiernan couldn’t afford to detach even a single destroyer to protect them. Without radio communications, which could be broadcast to a wide area, the only way to talk to the troops on the ground would be by sending a ship in low and praying they could make contact over a laser link, which had an extremely narrow broadcast area. 

“What about that courier ship?” his flag captain suggested. “The
Alita
, isn’t she? She could haul ahead of the carriers, get in low, and try to regain contact with General Ray.”

“It’s a civilian ship,” the flag operations officer protested. “They’re not going to do that, and they shouldn’t. They’re not trained or equipped for it.”

Tiernan looked at the tiny icon on the main display that represented a small ship and its two-person crew. “Do they have laser link capability?”

“All diplomatic courier ships have a basic laser link capability, sir,” the communications officer said. “It’s not military grade, but it’s powerful enough. Some of the diplomatic missions they have to serve are in places with pretty rough environmental conditions, and they need communications that can get through, no matter what. And the tactical sensor package that was retrofitted on all the Keran couriers has an improved laser link detection capability, so if anyone on the ground is calling, they have a better chance of picking it up. Assuming they’re in the path of the laser.”

That decided it. “Get me
Alita’s
captain,” Tiernan said.

* * *

“Do you know who that was?” Sid asked, incredulous.

Cartwright threw him a sidelong glance. “Of course I do, Sid,” she said, exasperated. He’d said the same thing five times in as many minutes after Admiral Tiernan had given her his “request.” As if she would even think of saying no.

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