The Lost Stars: Shattered Spear (34 page)

“They know we have changed,” Mercia said.

“Do they?” Marphissa asked. “We have not fought the enigmas before. The Syndicate has, and the Syndicate continues to usually employ the same tactics it always has.”

Iceni nodded again, her eyes thoughtful. “The enigmas know that Black Jack’s fleet fights differently, but they also know that we are not Black Jack. What they know of warships like ours is that they fight like that CEO led them to fight.”

“And that we do not let failure cause us to change our tactics,” Marphissa said. “The enigmas will expect us to do the same as always. They have not fought us before. They have not seen us fight that we know of. We will surprise them if we maneuver on the final approach.”

“Maneuver how?” Mercia asked.

“The enigmas will target
Pele
and our heavy cruisers. They can take out all three of those ships in their first pass if they can concentrate their fire on them. Agreed?” Everyone nodded. “So I will jog the formation upward, changing who the mass of enigma ships encounter.”

“
Midway
,” Kapitan Mercia said.

“Yes,” Marphissa said. “Not a battle cruiser with limited armament and armor and shields, but a battleship.”

Iceni looked down and off to the side, thinking. “Even a battleship will take some damage from an assault like that.”

“Agreed,” said Mercia. “But it is what battleships do. It’s what
Midway
is made for.”

“Is there a risk we’ll lose
Midway
?” Iceni asked.

“Based on our analysis of what we’ve seen of the firepower of the enigma warships, there is only a small chance,” Marphissa said. “Mostly due to the possibility of a suicide ramming such as the enigmas attempted against some of Black Jack’s ships.”

“They attempted the suicide ramming when that seemed their only remaining option,” Kontos pointed out. “And if they are not expecting
Midway
to be where they encounter her, they will not have a ship in position to ram in any case.”

“Hopefully,” Marphissa agreed. “We could hurt them badly during the first engagement. We
must
hurt them badly then, because they will know to avoid the battleship after that, and a battleship cannot bring the battle to warships as agile as the enigma craft against their will.”

There was a moment’s silence as everyone waited for Iceni to render her opinion. Finally, Iceni nodded. “I think your reasoning is sound, Kommodor. I look forward to seeing it employed.”

“Thank you, Madam President. Do you wish to transfer—?”

“No. I will remain aboard this ship.”

Mercia nodded to Marphissa. “Let’s show them what a real battleship can do.”

“Stand by for maneuvering orders,” Marphissa said, then ended the call.

“I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Kontos confessed. “The battleships are so slow, I think I stopped thinking about them as anything but defensive assets.”

She shook her head at him. “The trick is getting the enemy to bash his head against your strongest point, right? These enigmas think they know us, but what they know is the Syndicate.”

The enigmas had begun braking as well. Both forces were sweeping together for a first clash that might well decide who would triumph.

*   *   *

“YOU’RE
in command?” Rogero asked as he knelt in the ruins of a portable command shelter littered with the remains of those who had been in the shelter when the initial enigma attack hit. Most of his soldiers had fallen back to this area, only some scouts remaining to watch the enigma hole for signs of new trouble.

The Syndicate soldier facing him nodded, the gesture wobbling with weariness. “Senior Worker Hams. All of our supervisors are dead, either in the first attack or soon afterward. Are you who I talked to before you landed? You sound like him.”

Rogero nodded. “Yes. What about snakes?”

Hams managed a snort of laughter. “All dead. Some were just wounded in the first strike, but they, uh, didn’t survive their wounds. We made sure of that. What the hell are we fighting?”

“They’re called enigmas. We know very little about them. But we’ve now learned they are very tough in ground combat situations.”

“Yeah.” Hams lowered his head, then raised it again with some difficulty. “We’re about one-third strength, I think. Lost a lot of people.”

“How are the citizens?” Rogero asked.

“Most of them are all right. They were separated from the ground forces and wearing nothing but survival suits, so the enemy weapons haven’t targeted them.”

A warning sounded on Rogero’s armor. He and Worker Hams lay flat as another major barrage by the enigmas swept over the area.

“How long can they keep this up?” Hams asked despairingly as the assault waned again. “We’ve got nobody to shoot at. Just distance weapons tearing us up.”

“Can your people pull back?” Rogero asked. “We’re still sitting over what may be part of their base.”

“We are? Damned CEOs! Why did they drop—”

“Answer,” Rogero snapped, knowing the Syndicate-standard command would shock Hams out of his fatigue-induced rage.

“I understand and will comply.” Hams gestured to his right. “If your unit helps, we can move. Cover us, help us get the wounded moved. We can do it. But the citizens . . . the aliens haven’t targeted them yet. If they start moving, though . . .”

That was a problem. Rogero wished he could rub his forehead through his helmet visor, but the atmosphere of this wreck of a planet was even more toxic than usual thanks to all of the enigma weapons that had detonated in this area. “How many of your supplies are left? My people need active countermeasure reloads and replacement power packs.”

Hams lowered his head again, shaking it slowly from side to side. “Nothing. All blown to pieces. The shuttles just dropped it all over the place, and the enemy weapons have been tearing it up ever since they opened fire. Sir, we’re gone. It’s over. Right? Nobody’s coming for us.”

“Wrong,” Rogero said, as calmly and forcefully as he could. “My side has a flotilla up there, including a battleship.”

“A battleship?” The hope in the question was easy to hear. “But we’re just workers—”

“Listen. One of our heavy cruisers risked itself to pull three workers off this planet who had survived the attack that destroyed the Syndicate base here. You understand? They weren’t our people. They weren’t supervisors. They were just workers who needed help. And our mobile forces came for them. They’ll come for us, too, and they’ll pull you off with us.” Rogero made that sound as if it were a certainty. And it would be, if the Midway flotilla survived the fights with the enigmas and the pirate.

Hams stayed silent, looking at Rogero. “Sir, that’s . . . hard to believe.”

“Two of them came back with my unit. They volunteered to come back. You can talk to them. But first, I need you to tell everyone in your unit that all humans down here are on the same side.”

“Sir, you could have wiped us out if you wanted. I surrender the unit.”

“I don’t want you to surrender, I need you to keep fighting alongside my soldiers! Can you do that?”

Hams nodded. “I understand and will comply.” He sounded a lot steadier now. “Let me get the word out.”

“Go.” Rogero settled back against a broken section of portable wall, breathing deeply and trying to believe that they still had a chance.

MARPHISSA
held her flotilla’s vectors as the enigmas arced slightly down and starward and her own force curved to meet them, rising slightly and angling a little bit to port. Having slowed to point one light speed, the warships had pivoted again so that their bows faced toward the enemy once more. It was a textbook approach to an engagement, technically perfect and totally lacking in imagination.

“All units,” Marphissa broadcast. “Turn up zero one point five degree at time three seven.” It was a very minor adjustment, but given the speeds being traveled and the distances covered, it would produce a significant change in the projected encounter. “Engage targets as they enter weapon envelopes.”

When two formations were closing at a combined rate of sixty thousand kilometers per second, the enemy went from a very distant speck to
right there
in what felt like a moment of time. But even that was a bit of illusion created by the human mind. The ships were moving so fast relative to each other that they were never actually seen when close. They were far ahead, then far behind.

But in that instant, Marphissa felt a thrill of elation as she realized she had guessed right. The enigmas had assumed her formation would not shift its vector.

The enigmas had run head-on into the firepower of a human battleship, while the battle cruiser
Pele
and the heavy cruisers
Basilisk
and
Kraken
skimmed the top of the enigma formation, only targeted by the enigma warships there and able to concentrate their fire on that same fraction of the alien armada.

Marphissa blinked, her eyes fixed on her display as the sensors on her ships evaluated a combat engagement whose duration was measured in much less than a second. Humans had not pulled any triggers in that engagement since their reflexes were far too slow. Only automated fire control systems could choose targets and fire in the time allowed. But with so little time to hit the enemy, the awesome firepower of the
Midway
had been in its element.

Thirty-three enigma warships had entered the engagement. Twelve of those in the center of the enigma formation had been blown to pieces by
Midway
’s broadside. A half-dozen others were staggering from damage inflicted by the battleship.

On top of the enigma formation, five more enigma warships had been knocked out by the combined fire of
Pele
,
Basilisk
, and
Kraken
.

Even the battleship’s shields hadn’t been sufficient to shrug off the enigma return fire, though, and in some places her armor had also been penetrated. Marphissa waited tensely as damage reports scrolled down, seeing that nothing critical had been hit on
Midway
.
Pele
had taken several hits, one knocking out a hell lance battery and another spearing through the shuttle hangar, but was still in fine combat shape, while the other ships in the Midway flotilla had suffered only minor damage as the enigmas tried to take out the human capital ships.

Sixteen enigma warships, six of them bearing significant damage, curved back around toward the human formation.

Marphissa seemed to hear Bradamont lecturing her.
“When the
enigmas get hurt, when victory by conventional means suddenly slips from their grasp, that’s when you have to worry about ramming tactics. You can’t outmaneuver them. But you can hit them hard enough to knock them off a collision course.”

“All units in Midway flotilla,” Marphissa ordered, “pivot zero eight zero degrees. Maintain current velocity.”

“What are we doing?” Kontos asked, not frightened at all but intrigued.

Marphissa answered him with another transmission to everyone. “Assume the enemy intends to attempt to ram our largest warships. Set fire control systems to prioritize enemy ships on courses with smallest intercept distances.”

Kontos nodded. “I see. That’s why we’re holding this vector. The enigmas will accelerate and catch us, but at a much smaller relative velocity, so we will have ample opportunity to destroy them on their approach. Did Captain Bradamont tell you of this enigma tactic?”

“Yes.”

“That woman is an angel of death,” Kontos said in admiring tones that made the label sound strangely seductive.

Marphissa gave him a startled glance, wondering if President Iceni now had a rival for Kapitan Kontos’s chaste, martial admiration.

The flotilla was pivoting, every ship continuing along the same course at the same velocity, but facing nearly backward toward the enigmas who were coming out of their turn and lining up for another charge at the human formation.

About thirty light minutes behind the enigmas was the other enigma formation, tangling with Imallye’s flotilla. The pirate queen had not let up, using the agility of her battle cruisers to hammer the enigmas on pass after pass until only a dozen now remained of the armada that had launched from the planet. Marphissa hesitated, then angrily touched another comm command. “Imallye, this is Kommodor Marphissa. Be advised that according to experience with the enigmas,
when facing defeat they are likely to engage in suicide tactics including ramming of the largest human warships within reach. For the people, Marphissa, out.”

“Let’s hope the warning reaches her in time,” Kontos said.

Marphissa turned a scowl on the young Kapitan. “She tried to kill me. She tried to destroy
Manticore
. And I have to warn her anyway. But I don’t have to like it.”

The enigmas came in at full acceleration, which was significantly better than any human ship could manage. But with Marphissa’s flotilla moving away from them at point one light speed the alien ships were still exposed to human defensive fire for an unusually long run in.

Two of the remaining enigma ships blew up, a third broke in half, the two halves self-destructing as they tumbled away to prevent anyone from learning anything from the wreckage.

One of the smaller enigma ships suddenly veered toward the light cruiser
Falcon
, which had only moments to react. Fortunately,
Falcon
’s commanding officer did the only thing that could have saved the ship, putting the main propulsion on full and abruptly beginning to brake the light cruiser’s velocity. The sudden change in vector threw off the enigma warship’s approach so that it slid past a bare hundred meters from
Falcon
’s stern. Before the enigma could turn again, it was blown apart by fire from
Falcon
, the light cruiser
Eagle
, and the Hunter-Killers
Scout
and
Defender
.

Midway
and
Pele
unleashed a stream of missiles that tore into the advancing enigmas and destroyed four more.
Kraken
and
Basilisk
each accounted for another.

And that was enough. The eight surviving enigma warships broke off, changing vectors rapidly so that the human defensive fire failed to hit. The remaining aliens kept accelerating for all they were worth, heading away from the star.

“They’re going for that new jump point of theirs,” Kontos said. “Shall I pursue?”

“No,” Marphissa said. “Even
Pele
couldn’t catch them if all they want to do is run.” She looked to where Imallye had been fighting the other enigma group. As of thirty minutes ago, one of Imallye’s heavy cruisers was limping away from the fight, but five surviving enigma warships had been tearing away in the same direction as the six fleeing from Marphissa’s flotilla. “Let’s hope we don’t have to fight Imallye now that we’ve dealt with the common enemy.”

*   *   *

“ANOTHER
flotilla arrived at the jump point from Ulindi!” the senior watch specialist cried. “Three hours and twenty minutes ago. A heavy cruiser and two light cruisers!”

Bradamont had just begun muttering a curse when the specialist spoke again, this time sounding puzzled.

“I can’t identify the unit recognition codes they are transmitting. It’s not Syndicate.”

Diaz swept his hand through his own display, peering intently at the data. “They’re calling themselves Ulindi? It must be a trick. Ulindi doesn’t have any warships.”

“Incoming message from the new flotilla,” the comm specialist reported. “It’s addressed to the commander of Midway’s flotilla, as well as President Iceni and General Drakon.”

“At the moment, I’m the commander of Midway’s flotilla,” Bradamont said. “Let me have a look.”

The man whose image appeared looked oddly familiar to her. Along with a satisfied smile, he was wearing a CEO suit that had been modified enough from its Syndicate origins to look distinct.

“I know him,” Diaz said. “From when he was with the Reserve Flotilla, and when he commanded the Syndicate flotilla that Black Jack drove away from this star. That’s CEO Jason Boyens.”

“He was taken prisoner by Admiral Geary after the fight at Varandal and was most recently a prisoner of President Iceni,” Bradamont
said. “She told me she had released him not long ago and sent him to Ulindi. Why is he back and with those warships?”

“Another betrayal,” Diaz said bitterly.

But Boyens’s first words were unexpected. “Greetings from the newly independent star system of Ulindi to the people of Midway Star System,” he said with a broad grin. “And to President Iceni and General Drakon as well. I wanted them to know that their . . . what’s the word? Oh, yes, their
trust
in me was well deserved.”

Boyens indicated the heavy cruiser whose bridge he was on. “These three warships were part of the forces the Syndicate had been massing for a coordinated attack on you. With help and encouragement from covert agents I had sent out, the crews of this heavy cruiser and the two light cruisers mutinied against the Syndicate while in jump to Ulindi Star System, which they were to transit before jumping to Midway to hit you along with a couple of other flotillas. They didn’t like that plan, because Syndicate ships sent to attack Midway have a tendency never to come home again, but were happy to tell us all about it when they arrived at Ulindi and requested asylum. We were in turn happy to grant them a place to stay in exchange for their becoming the first of Ulindi’s own mobile defense forces!”

“I don’t believe it,” Diaz said, looking stunned.

“I’m not sure I do,” Bradamont said. “But President Iceni said that Boyens might do some real service at Ulindi.”

Boyens’s grin had turned smug. “Since we knew you might be in need of a little help against the other attacks, I brought Ulindi’s new fleet to assist. Just let me know what you need. Ulindi, and I, owe you a few favors. For the people! Boyens, out.”

“I’ll be damned,” Diaz said. “What are we going to do?”

Bradamont indicated her display, where the Syndicate flotilla they had been fighting was already twisting about as quickly as possible. “Since they’ve figured out that one of their expected reinforcements has
turned out to be reinforcements for us, I’d say we’re going to chase these guys out of this star system. Once
Gryphon
joins up we’ll more than match Boyens’s flotilla, so we’ll escort them toward the main world so he can talk to General Drakon in something like real time. Unless the general tells me otherwise. We’ve won, and one of our allies has picked up some decent firepower. Our ancestors are watching over us, Kapitan.”

“You may make me a believer yet,” Diaz said, grinning.

*   *   *

COLONEL
Rogero checked his armor’s power levels, then scrolled rapidly through his whole force to see how everyone else was doing. Not well. And the Syndicate ground forces and citizens were even worse off.

Another enigma bombardment swept past like a deadly hailstorm, but by now the human soldiers had learned the best means of hiding from the enigma seekers and few were targeted.

That wouldn’t matter if everyone ran out of power, though. Without power for heat, oxygen regeneration, and water recycling, no one would last long on the surface of this planet.

“Colonel, that big hole is closing,” a scout left in that area reported.

He didn’t like the sound of that. “All scouts, get away from that hole and rejoin us. Move carefully. I want you back here in one piece.”

What were the aliens up to now? Why had they finally sealed that access to their base?

A powerful signal cut through enigma interference that had increasingly been hindering the human comm net. “Colonel Rogero, this is Kommodor Marphissa. I understood there was a big hole I could drop some big rocks down, but it seems to have vanished. What is your situation?”

“Awful,” Rogero said, feeling weak with relief as well as fatigue. “We’re not capable of breaching their defenses. We’ve barely been able
to hang on. The whole force needs to be pulled off planet, but the enigmas have a seemingly endless supply of munitions that they’ll use against any shuttles that try to land now.”

“The area to your southeast looks clear. Keep moving that way. When you’re far enough from the enigma positions, I’m going to start dropping small rocks to keep the enigmas pinned down while we carry out the lift.”

It wasn’t easy, and they lost a few more people on the way, but Rogero got his unit, the Syndicate soldiers, and the citizens far enough to planetary southeast to be safe when the warships in orbit began dropping “small” rocks on the surface over the enigma base. Small meant metal projectiles falling at immense velocity to release their energy on impact, producing massive explosions that not only destroyed anything nearby such as enigma weapons launchers and sensors, but also threw up a lot of dust to help screen the human evacuation.

Rogero sent the citizens up first, dazed men, women, and children who weren’t hysterical only because they were too tired to panic. He then started sending up groups of his soldiers along with the Syndicate soldiers who willingly gave up their weapons. Despite encouragement from President Iceni and Kommodor Marphissa, and perhaps a few orders that Rogero insisted he had not heard due to enigma jamming, he stubbornly refused to leave until the last shuttle came down to pick him and a dozen other remaining soldiers up.