Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (60 page)

“Yes sir. It looks like Intel got that part right, they were
short,” Sprite replied.

“Very well,” Irons said. He studied them. Cobras were his
favorites, they were a multirole fighter. Cutlasses were a generation older but
were his second favorite. They had been made in massive numbers and had still
been in production when the Xeno war had started. They were one of the few
multirole fighters that didn't require an augmented pilot to fly. They had been
designed to be used by reserve or militia forces that didn't have the time or
credits to spend training and augmenting pilots.

They had also been favorites of pirates and privateers, he
thought with a pang. Which was what they were seeing here.

The Raptors were ancient, over fifteen hundred years old and used
by militia forces. They had still been in production, the fighter was little
more than a ship wrapped around a destroyer's laser. She had only particle
shields, little defenses, no missiles, but she was blistering fast.

The Sabre was tricky, she had been built by the alien Riska to
defend their homeworld, but the design had been licensed out to several
corporations. She was a U shaped fighter with weapons mounted on the forward
swept arms. The arms had powerful force emitters embedded on the inside edges.
They could create a near impenetrable forward shield, or a force beam that
could tear into a target. She had two grasers mounted in the wing roots as
well, as well as six missile hard points on her ventral and dorsal sides.

The Executor however was the most powerful of all the fighters.
She was an E class, designed for modular components and multirole ability. Her
core was the same as that of an Emperor, Eliminator, Epsilon, Essence, or
Etenger class.

He agreed with Bounty, most likely the squadron Commander,
possibly even the Arrow’s CAG was on board. She was Veraxin in design, with a
bug shape, all angles, points, and curves. She had four drive pods, two point
defense lasers, two internal missile tubes with six missiles each and most
importantly of all, two
capital
ship grasers, one on each flank.  To top
that off, her drive pods put out an impressive shield as well.

“Time to fighters reaching outer defensive shell four minutes,”
Miss Nobeki said.

<----*----*----*---->

The Horathian fighter squadron was unprepared for real war, but
angry and eager to strike back. That was good, but most had stopped listening
and paying attention. That was bad. Their discipline also fell apart when the
shit hit the fan Commander Trevor Halsey noted angrily. He had finally gotten
them into formation and off in the direction of the enemy. “Quit fooling around
and wasting fuel!” He snarled over the squadron link.

“CAG! Where do we go?!”

“Form up on me and we'll take the fight to them. All the way in.
Orient on my IFF. We're going after Bounty. The traitors will pay for what
they've done.”

“Sir, we don't have the firepower to scratch that ship!” a voice
said. Halsey checked the link. It was Ensign Fred Rogers, the rookie.

“Lock it down rook. We'll get in and tear her a new one. I've got
enough firepower alone to make her regret ever changing sides,” the Commander
growled.

<----*----*----*---->

The Admiral noted that the fighters were finally getting their
acts together. They had finally formed up into a coherent formation and stopped
moving off to attack his fighters or a nearby corvette. “They are certainly
stirred up Admiral. Like Nubian Wasps,” Enric reported. “They are concentrating
on us. The other ships can't support us.”

“They are swarming indeed. From their speed, mass, and energy
readings, I do not detect any torpedoes you should note,” Bounty, reported.

“Well, that's a good thing,” Enric replied. He sounded momentarily
relieved.

“Even the sting of a dozen wasps can inflict damage,” the Ssilli
replied. “That is if we let them sting us.”

“Not if we can help it,” the Admiral growled. “Move beam one out
to intercept.”

“Aye sir, moving beam one out on a reciprocal path. Be advised,
we're going to lose it Admiral. She's low on juice,” Lieutenant Nobeki said,
using her implants to order the beam platform moved.

“It can't be helped,” the Admiral replied. “You call the shot
Lieutenant,” he said.

“Aye sir, guns...” Nobeki bit her lip, focusing with intense
concentration on the feed in her mind. “They are entering outer range now.
Passing through the outer range, initial targeting on the greatest mass, we
have lock. Firing,” she said.

When the fighter's entered the outer defensive shell range
Lieutenant Nobeki hit them with force beam emitter 1. The beam emitter platform
lined to take as many fighters as possible in one shot.

The pilots received a threat warning and instincts warred with
orders briefly. A few jinked high or low, spreading the formation.

Seven of the fighters managed to get
out of the weapon platform's engagement range
. The other five fighters drifted lifeless, their ships
dead, their pilots gasping their last breaths of priceless air.

The squadron Commander took revenge on the unmanned weapons
platform by making a firing run before it could recharge. It was blown apart.
Then he turned on the ship that had launched it. His scattered force regrouped.

“You have to admire a fighter jock. More balls than brains. In a
situation like this, against a prepared foe, he should back off.”

“But he's not.”

“Probably more afraid of getting in trouble with the brass if they
thought he was a coward,” Bounty replied.

“That only happens if he survives this. Which he won't,” Sprite
replied. She paused a moment. “I've tried to get in, the fighter's computers
aren't accepting input.”

“Understood.”

<----*----*----*---->

The surviving fighters hit one of the decoys, and crowed over the
destruction. “Yes! Now that's what I'm talking about!”

“Can it! Get it together people! By the numbers,” Halsey snarled.
He'd lost five fighters, but the others still hadn't wised up. Blowing apart
the decoy had thrown his formation into chaos, and again he had to haul them
back into formation. If they were going to have a chance in hell at hitting the
Bounty they needed numbers. Or at least he did, the others had little chance in
surviving.

Three of the ships lost had been raptors; the other two had been
his Sabre and a cutlass. Roger's last Raptor had a snowballs chance in hell of
surviving what was about to come, but the kid was stubbornly sticking in there.

“Sir, there is another platform coming up above us. Bearing one
o'clock high,” Rogers reported.

Halsey frowned, looking at it for a moment. It was clouded in the
snow of sensor jamming, but he did pick out one thing which made him relax
slightly. “Ignore it. Another damn decoy. It doesn't have any force emitter
signatures,” he said.

When they passed the defense platform it erupted, hammering at
them with point defense weapons. Lasers that were good at hitting fast moving
missiles were equally good at striking fighters. Four of the fighters were
destroyed; another tumbled away missing a wing and an engine.

Furious Halsey took his fighter in a tight banking loop. He
rounded on the platform, hammering it with a pair of missiles but the platform
fought back, shooting them out of the sky and then firing on him. Angry he
fired all his missiles and then hit it with his main guns, winging it as it
jinked and fired on the missiles. The capital beams tore into the unarmored
platform like it was tissue paper. Unfortunately the beams hadn't killed it.

“One more to be sure,” Halsey muttered as he swung about to take
another pass at it.

The platform self destructed a moment later, taking his fighter
out as it made another firing pass, this time too close to evade the explosion.

<----*----*----*---->

The last two fighters came in gallantly. Bounty's tactical witch
took one out with precision fire with a laser. The second made a single
strafing run, hitting the shields with a weak Gauss rifle before it tumbled off
into space with a hole in its stern from Bounty's return fire.

“And that's that,” Miss Nobeki said, smiling. She had sweat
beading her forehead. She looked tired but game.

“Good job guns,” Irons replied. “Take a moment and relax and get
some food or visit the head. Bounty, Sprite, and I will cover for you,” he
said.

“Sir are you sure?” Enric asked, sounding concerned.

Irons looked at the plot. “We're okay. We've got a few minutes.
Don't leave the bridge,” he said, pointing to the small door near the back that
led to the head and washroom.

Enric nodded and got up. He waved to the tactical officer. “Ladies
first ma'am,” he said, smiling politely.

She returned the smile, flexing her hands over and over to get
feeling into them as she headed to the head. Her knees felt like jelly but
strangely she felt good. Some of her friends had no doubt died, but so far so
good.

“Sir! Enemy fighters coming in bearing one twenty one, mark one
ten low!” a rating called out in warning. Bluefield looked up at the plot in
sick dread in time to realize things were going from bad to worse.

He had been handling the damage control since Mister Travesh had
been electrocuted and had been sent to the overloaded infirmary. The ship was
heavily damaged by the missile attack; he was just getting a handle on it when
this happened. He could barely see, the bridge environmental was still dealing
with the smoke and ozone. Burnt smells clogged his nose, making his eyes tear.
Angrily he wiped at them, forcing himself to focus.

“What the hell are they doing? There are only three of them!”

“It's a torpedo attack,” Guns replied coughing. “We should have
kept a CAP flight to cover us,” he said, coughing again. “Our keel has been
torn up. Captain, we need to flip,” the tactical officer said.

“Helm, roll us one eighty! Evasive! All defenses fire!”

He realized his error; he should have kept a better eye on the
larger picture while someone else handled damage control. Unfortunately there
wasn't time anymore for self-recrimination. No time at all.

<----*----*----*---->

The trio of Cobra fighters came out of stealth five hundred
thousand kilometers away from the remaining enemy warships, coming up from
below and on their starboard side. The three little fighters came in loaded for
bear. They made a torpedo run on the remaining enemy warships. Their target was
the battlecruiser.

“We can't go up against that!” Ezri said as the three ships
erupted in defensive fire. The fighter's small dumb AI plotted the weapons fire
and firing arches, giving them an angle of attack. They could see all three
ships attempting to maneuver, rolling to keep their damaged hull away from the
threat.

“Stick to the plan Ezri!” Meia ordered.

“Hell with that!” Ezri replied. At the last minute Ezri lost his
nerve and changed targets to the Antelope destroyer. Dita and Meia followed the
plan and shifted targets to the Arrow at the last minute.

“Fire one! Fire two! Torpedoes away! ” Dita and Meia sang out
together. They missed Ezri's report.

They each launched a pair of torpedoes. A lucky hit slammed into
both the Arrow and the destroyer, taking the destroyer's shields down and
scramming her reactor with an EMP burst. It drifted, lights flashing as her
crew went to work to contain and handle the damage.

The Arrow was less fortunate, she was half way through her roll
with her slit of a flank pointed at the fighters. She took one of the torpedoes
in her flank, right into the notch leading to her open carrier deck. The Arrow
lacked sufficient armor on her carrier deck; the fusion warhead tore her apart
from the inside. Captain Bluefield had one moment to realize his ship was
doomed before he knew no more.

“We did it!” Ezri crowed, grinning as he swept near the
battlecruiser and raked it with fire for good measure.

“Ezri get out of there! You're too close!” Meia warned.

However Ezri's fighter had strayed too close to the battlecruiser
as he crowed victory. The large capital ship lashed out, blowing apart the
fighter in revenge for its fallen comrades.

Dita flinched as Ezri's crow was cut short. “He's gone, just...
gone,” she said and then her ship bucked as it took fire. She jinked and wove,
doing her best to avoid the lashing beams and flying metal. Something bucked,
hitting her in the port wing and she spun, now out of control.

“Meia!” Dita cried as her fighter took fire.

“Dita move!” Meia said, jinking and kicking out decoys and flares.
She scissored behind Dita's fighter as the ship took a glancing hit on her
shields, knocking them down. One of Dita's decoy's exploded, pinging her stern
with tiny bits of debris. Her engine sputtered briefly.

“I'm in trouble!” Dita said, voice rising in anxiety.

“I can see that!” Meia replied in disgust. “Always I've got to
save you,” she said as Dita's fighter took a glancing hit on her port wing,
throwing her into a corkscrew. Dita screamed over the radio until the computer
cut her off.

Dita’s fighter was critically hit, forcing Meia to tractor her out
of range of the fight. With her covering her wingman all the fighters were a
spent force.

<----*----*----*---->

“Admiral, we're all that is left. Dita is down, Meia is towing
her out of the battle space. They passed through the enemies lines, Meia
reported that she would attempt to bring them to Echo if possible.”

“She doesn't have the range,” Nobeki replied. “Not with Dita on
tow,” she said.

“If Dita recovered maybe,” Bounty replied. “Or jettisoned and
Meia picked her up.”

“Either way, out of our hands now,” the Admiral replied. He
looked at the sitrep.

The wounded Antelope destroyer tried to cower behind the
battlecruiser for cover.

“Kick the force platform down mark ninety. Target their belly.
Fire when you have a lock,” Irons said, looking at the tactical station. Nobeki
nodded.

<----*----*----*---->

“Force beam attack on our keel Admiral!” a rating called out,
looking at Admiral Rico in fear.

“What do you want me to do about it?” the Admiral demanded.
“Damage control!” he said just as the weapon fired. “Bridge roll!”

<----*----*----*---->

Bounty had kicked the last force beam emitter out down the
negative Z-axis to get a clear shot. The force beam emitter hammered the
destroyer and the battlecruiser. The destroyer was left adrift, helpless with
her shield pods exploded like over ripened fruit.

The battlecruiser was maimed, her port side force emitters had
been torn apart. Half her electrical systems were out on that side as well. But
she was still alive, and now fighting mad.

“And now we're down to one. Mano e mano,” Sprite said. “David and
Goliath.” The Admiral glanced at her and then back to the status board. “She's
regaining her footing Admiral,” Sprite warned.

“Target the Adrienne with our missiles. Fire all,” the Admiral
ordered, looking at Nobeki. She nodded, not looking up from her station.

The packs jettisoned from their mother ship. Once clear they
oriented and fired. Bounty had a dozen surviving packs, each with six missiles.
Thirty-six missiles went into immediate sprint mode as they came online.

Adrienne however had recovered part of her systems. She picked off
half the incoming missiles as she rolled to protect her damaged flank. Force
beams lashed out in a broad arch, killing another seven missiles. Six more were
picked off by point defense fire. A decoy sucked one off. The remaining two
slammed into the ship, one wasted itself on the dorsal armor wiping away part
of her main guns, but the other exploded near her bow, kicking the ship up and
crumpling her nose. After a moment the ship began to show signs of recovering.

“There goes our last Sunday punch Admiral,” Bounty said.

“We're not out of it yet. Keep us bow onto that port side. Don't
let her get away. Keep hammering her until we hit something vital.”

“We're out of missiles Admiral,” Irina said, clawing her way back
onto her couch.

“Then use counter missiles. They won't penetrate but they will do
some damage. Keep hammering.”

“We don't have a big enough hammer,” Sprite said. “And no, I can't
get in,” she said. “All her communications are down. My viruses and bombs did
some damage though, that's probably why we're still alive.”

“Great,” the Admiral growled. “Then we'll have to do it the hard
way,” he growled, hands gripping the hand rests. “Helm, keep us bow on to the
beast. Guns, keep firing as our weapons cycle. Don't go for her vitals if they
are too thick, which they are. Just tear into her. Eventually something's got
to give.”

“Admiral, she's a battlecruiser. We're a fricking Destroyer. She's
got layers of armor, not to mention redundant systems one on top of another on
top of another.”

“We can't run, can't hide. Fight,” the Admiral said simply. “It's
our only option.”

“Since it's our only options left you mean,” Sprite muttered. The Admiral's
eyes cut briefly to her and then back to the status board.

Bounty tried to keep its bow locked onto the side of the wounded
battlecruiser like a wolf on a moose. The wolf had it wrong though, her prey
wasn't a moose, she was a bear, an angry wounded bear. One with blood in its
eye.

Damage in both ships mounted. Neither backed off, they both knew
this was a contest to the death. The battlecruiser was ten times larger than
the destroyer, capable of dishing out and receiving incredible amounts of
punishment, far more than the destroyer could handle. Admiral Rico knew time
and tonnage was on his side.

Still, her wounded portside represented a problem. The ship
attempted to roll to keep it away from the destroyer, but the destroyer stuck
to it, keeping it locked on like a mastiff.

<----*----*----*---->

The Admiral frowned when he got a priority call. He turned. “What
is it Lieutenant?” he asked when Sprite put the identifier up on his HUD.

“Sir, I have a plan,” Gustov said as the ship bucked. Irons held
onto his armrests, glad his implant force emitters were keeping him tractored
into his seat. Mister Enric wasn't so lucky. The young man picked himself up
off the deck though and climbed back onto his couch. He was favoring one wrist
though.

“A plan?”

“Yes sir. I'm in the boat bay. I have the surviving marines with
me. We've got the new powered armor and mechs ready. I am so glad you insisted
on replicating them sir. Sir, I want to take them over. I think we can make a
difference."

“Board in combat Lieutenant?” Irons asked, tapping at his
controls. “Are you serious?”

“It's something sir. If we can dig our way in we can distract them.
Maybe do some damage from the inside. We're not getting through her armor.”

“True,” the Admiral replied.

“Admiral,” Bounty said. “It's suicide,” he said.

“I know,” Irons replied. “Volunteers only,” he said. “We'll think
of a way to help you get across somehow.”

“Aye sir, we're all volunteers,” Gustov replied. “And I've thought
of a way to help us a bit. We're loading them now,” he said.

“I see,” the Admiral said, checking the image to the boat bay. He
nodded in appreciation at what he saw.

<----*----*----*---->

A few minutes later the boat bay signaled the shuttles were ready
to depart.

“Admiral, this is suicide,” Sprite said. “There is no way they can
survive to get over there, let alone board! And it's hopeless odds!” she said.

“Doing something is better than nothing Commander,” Irons replied.
He was glad she was talking to him alone and not to the entire bridge. “We all
play our part,” he said. He looked over to Miss Nobeki who bit her lip. Her
face looked troubled, but she was too focused on her station to say anything.

Gustov took a volunteer team of nine of his surviving marines and
boarded the battlecruiser. The Admiral's launch, the last remaining decoy, and
the four recon drones were used as decoys to draw the large ship's fire.

The Admiral's launch was on autopilot. She was unarmed, but she
had something better, her shields. She made a spiral pass around the wounded
leviathan. She was blown apart as her shield emitters interacted with the BC's
and tore them to shreds. The decoys and drones lasted a moment longer before
they too were gone.

Fortunately their sacrifice had not been in vain, the distraction
allowed the stiletto of marines to slip through her defenses in the pinnace, to
cross the void and get in close to the ship's wounded side.

“Sir, we're ready. I'm looking for an airlock,” the pilot said,
glancing over his shoulder briefly.

“Hell with that! They'll expect that. Find one of the breaches and
wedge us in there good and tight. We'll take it from there,” Gustov said.

“Yes sir,” the pilot replied.

“Good man,” Gustov said, pounding him on the shoulder before he
left the compartment at a run.

The marines came in with the pinnace, raking the ship's already
wounded side. Then they performed a hard dock on a wound in her hull and forced
their way inside.

Gustov had stuffed the shuttle with every bot they had as well. A
swarm of bots, cleaner bots, security dogs, cargo movers, and bipedal security
robots stormed the ship, absorbing the first initial fire of the arriving
ship's security forces. Fortunately it was light; there was only a pair of
guards with the damage control party.

“Go! Go! Go! Move em out!” A marine snarled, pushing some of the
robots out ahead of them.

The robots moved forward with the suicidal bravery of the
lifeless, digging deeper into the bowls of the ship. The security robots and
marines followed in their wake. Gustov had a plan, dig in as deep as he could
and hopefully find and take out something vital. He just wished he'd had a nuke
to bring along. Unfortunately none had been available.