Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Crusade Page 2

  No sooner had he nodded at the Lieutenant than the message was away.

  “New orders for the Ninth,” Illam resumed, and the Qualin officer opened the channel again. He looked at the holo field just in time to see concentrated fire from the Primans pummel and shred the back half of a Confed cruiser. He added that to the tally of damaged or destroyed Confed ships he was keeping in his head. Before that cruiser, it had been a Starshaker battleship that had lost containment on a fuel bunker and suffered an uncontained explosion through the ventral aft hull, knocking it out of the fight with no doubt a hefty number of casualties. Grimacing, Illam began drawing course lines on the holo tank for the various Confed elements, intersecting the lines of the Ninth, Elco’s Crusaders, and Rowan’s destroyers at several points. “Follow this course. Obviously, the Primans will probably not oblige us with an easy and spectacular death, and most likely won’t follow this plan to the letter, much to my chagrin. But you see what I’m after- we can lead them around and whittle away at the edges, and they only have so much time on their side. Good hunting.”

  Almost immediately, the Qualin Lieutenant spoke up again. “Admiral, we’re being sent a message from Captain Sosus’s formation through Avenger.”

  “Put her through,” Illam replied.

  “Admiral,” came the calm and pleasant voice of Corinne Sosus. In the middle of combat, she was in her zone, and sounded as comfortable as someone sitting on a couch reading a great novel on a lazy weekend afternoon. “We’ve taken care of the Reapers, and I still have twelve torpedoes that I’d rather not bring back. Is there a target we can have?”

  Illam glanced quickly from the holo tank to a more traditional large flat panel screen. In a second, he called up her unit’s data. She had lost several Intruders and a few more Talons than that, but it appeared that the Priman fighters were breaking off now that the ships they had been charged with defending had been destroyed. The Reapers were so new, Illam had seen, that the Primans were still trying to figure out doctrine for their use. They’d tried everything from cruising them right next to their capital ships as a close anti-fighter screen, to sending them out in advance with fighter escort and everything in between. Success was mixed in each case. Today, it worked out for Confed, but he assumed sooner or later the Primans would figure out the winning combination. As long as it wasn’t today, he could live with that. Cory’s quick and obvious desire to continue fighting was no surprise, either. A hard charging attitude like hers worked wonders, right up until it got her killed, which was more common than not among that personality type. He hoped she’d survive long enough to get promoted out of a fighter, but until then, she had a job to do.

  He highlighted two more Priman ships, destroyers who were screening a wounded Priman cruiser on the port upper flank of the formation. “Captain, see if you can’t take out these destroyers for us so we can get at that cruiser at our leisure. Torpedoes only; we’ve got this battle under control, there’s no need to risk too much right now with autocannon runs.”

  “Understood, Admiral,” she replied, and was gone.

  Down in Avenger’s C3, Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk went from station to station in the pit, making sure everything was running smoothly. While Commander Loren Stone ran the show, it was up to her to make sure his orders were carried out effectively.

  She risked a quick glance up at Loren, who noticed and nodded back. He was engrossed in the display he was standing by, plotting new targets for Avenger’s main batteries and torpedoes. He was good at his job- he had an eye for the unconventional, could plan an attack with the best of them, knew the equipment like the back of his hand, had the trust of his crew, and wasn’t afraid to find out the answer to something he didn’t know. The only problem was that he was completely eaten away on the inside. He masked it well, and Mastruk knew that only herself and a handful of others saw it, but it was there. With the capture of Toral, where his wife was, and now the Priman DNA virus incubating among the population there, he was consumed by a combination of anger, grief, and frustration at being unable to help. He compartmentalized well, and on rare occasions still seemed like his old self when he was so busy or occupied that he forgot the fear and pain tearing at his guts.

  Today, however, he was in better spirits than usual. Mastruk knew, of course, that was because they were killing Primans. It hurt her to see how he had changed just a bit, but if this war or at least the imminent danger to Toral ended, she was sure the man would heal.

  Walking back up to the command platform, she approached the XO to give him an update.

  “Laser battery Three is back to full power,” she started. “Not sure what the problem was, but it’s on secondaries and everything’s smooth.”

  “Thanks,” he replied sincerely. “Next run is going to be down the port side, so we’ll need that battery online.” He looked at the main holo plot once again, then turned to Sarria. “How long before you think the Admiral’s going to call in the Marines to beat the Hell out of the surface?”

  Mastruk looked at the data, thought for a moment, and came to a decision. “Care to wager?”

  “You sound very sure of yourself,” he replied with an all-too-rare grin. “In that case, how about a nice bottle of whatever it is you use to self-medicate?”

  She smiled quickly, the reference to a secret stash of alcohol reminding her that even out in the ass end of space, there were still some universal currencies. She also knew Loren wasn’t a big drinker and didn’t go for quantity, so he probably only had the good stuff.

  “You’re on, sir,” she replied. “I say ten minutes.”

  “Personally, I’d say fifteen. Closest to actual wins?”

  “You’re on, sir.” She started walking away.

  “Something up?” he asked after her, noticing the determination in her stride to get somewhere.

  “Yes, I was going to call Admiral Illam and tell him to call in Torino and her sisters immediately,” she said with a straight face.

  Loren was already starting to think that he had lost the bet. He was looking at the main holo field again, and saw that the Priman forces were splitting up, the most severely damaged ships falling into positions to block the serviceable ones, which seemed to be orienting themselves for a run out-system.

  Cory’s Intruders and Talons were covering the ships of Pursuant’s squadron as they made their run on the two Priman destroyers. While destroyers had a better than average chance of shooting down a fighter or torpedo, if a torpedo did get through, the ship was most likely going to die because of its’ small size.

  Her fighters weaved around a bit as they tried to prevent anti-fighter turrets from locking onto them, hampered by their own sheer numbers as they all charged in at once. Her theory was that with all of her Intruders making the run, it would be much harder to determine who was going to launch on them than if there were only twelve.

  “Cory,” came a voice over the comm. Only one person would actually use her name like that at a time like this.

  “Yes, sweetie?” she replied innocently on Merritt’s channel only.

  “You can’t have many autocannon rounds left, can you?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because something tells me you’re nutty enough to consider a run on that cruiser once the destroyers are gone. And even if you don’t have any rounds left, you won’t tell your people to do something that you aren’t a part of, either.”

  “Well, you’ll be happy to know the Admiral told me not to,” she replied with a chuckle. He really did know her well enough to worry about that.

  “I really like that guy,” came Merritt’s relieved response. “Need to remember to send him a fruit basket tomorrow.”

  Cory just chuckled again as she led the way in. Fire from the destroyers was at its’ max now, just before the launch point. She risked a quick glance at her displays to see the torpedoes streak ahead of her ships just as a Priman blast glanced off her forward starboard shield segment. There was a sharp, loud cr
ackle at the energy was absorbed and dissipated, and her displays flickered for a second before recovering. That was close-

  Another blast caught her Intruder right in the hyperdrive engine pod on the top rear of her ship. It was most likely a stray from a main laser battery, but definitely not a point defense laser as it tore straight through her shields with abandon. There was an explosion, her displays went dark, and her controls stopped responding as she heard her engines surge.

  Merritt saw it out of the corner of his eye and shouted in alarm. The blast knocked her ship on a wildly spinning course as her engines flickered and went dark. Panels from the top of her Intruder wobbled and tore off as her ship gyrated madly. Her controls must be dead if she wasn’t bringing that tumble to an end. He looked around and saw the rest of the fighters start peeling off in their standard starburst maneuver, torpedoes gone and uncomfortably close to the destroyers guns.

  Loren in C3 happened to be watching Cory’s run and saw everything happen. It made him go cold when he saw her ship get hit, and he felt the icy dread he’d experienced when he had lost or thought he’d lost others; his wife, his friend Delgin Marks- the former XO of Avenger. There were of course others he’d lost to action while under his command, but those two were the worst.

  He quickly confirmed some data on the platform’s port side screen, then ran back to his command station and clicked the channel to the bridge and Captain Elco.

  “Loren,” Elco replied when the visuals went active. “What news do you have?” Elco wouldn’t have access to the simple volume of information that Loren did, so he filled him in quickly on what had happened to Cory’s ship.

  “And you’re calling because you have something in mind?” Elco replied easily. Loren was one of the most loyal people he knew, and he also knew the man would probably tread the line between good military practice and overriding devotion to a friend.

  “If you look at the plot Admiral Illam has us all on, we’ll all merge up again in about a minute. At that point, we could break off and rescue Cory’s ship, or at least drop off a shuttle to rescue her. I show one other damaged Talon in the vicinity as well.” Such were the vagaries of space combat that most pilots didn’t get to eject from a damaged ship. They had limited life support endurance from their suit, but nine times out of ten the small fighter craft simply ceased to be. An opportunity to rescue two pilots was somewhat rare, something Loren no doubt knew that Elco would have to be aware of.

  Elco looked at his own screen and tried to be objective. Nobody would order a capital ship out of formation to cover two fighters, not with the solar system on the line. Elco tried to think of options, but the clock was ticking.

  Down in C3, Loren was realizing he’d asked for too much. He just wished he was out there in a fighter again. He could cover for Cory. No doubt Merritt was in the undamaged Talon holding station on her wing as well, though he didn’t have time to run to the holo field to confirm it. His mind raced, then he saw something that was both problem and solution at the same time.

  When Cory’s ship had been hit, she’d tumbled off on a vector that carried her roughly away from the Priman ships they’d attacked. The destroyers had both been hit by their torpedoes, one essentially vaporized and the other broken in half, shedding parts and oxygen with enthusiasm. The cruiser, perhaps realizing it had lost its’ escorts and was not going to rendezvous with the main Priman force anymore, was turning starboard back towards Cory and Merritt. This was bad for the Priman ship; the maneuver was going to put it into an extended short-range laser battery envelope with the Crusaders who were trying to catch up to the flanks of the Confed formation. While Avenger’s mag shield, just like the other three Crusaders, was powered up to full, at this range the Primans should still have seen them. The fact that they didn’t seemed to at the least indicate a failure of their sensor hardware.

  “Captain, I have a new idea.” Loren began immediately.

  “I see it, too, Loren,” Elco replied. “They must not see us at all. If they did, they’d be running to catch up with their comrades. Or at the least, they’d be making their circle to port in order to keep the range open between us. Either way, their mistake.” Elco replied without pity.

  “I’ll order a Search and Rescue shuttle to drop out once we’ve passed,” Loren added.

  “Approved, XO,” Elco said. “We’re almost in range already, I’m just going to give the order to Challenger, Wayfarer, and Pursuant to clobber that cruiser as we pass by. That should be enough.”

  Cory had finally managed to get her Intruder under control, but much more than that was going to be difficult. She’d lost her main reactor, but could at least make half acceleration on her sublight drives. Well, make that drive, singular. Her portside engine wasn’t responding, which meant she could only use her starboard engine for propulsion. However, since the thrust wasn’t on centerline, unless she wanted to just spin around in circles until the end of time, she could only accelerate at a level that her roll and yaw thrusters could keep up with, which wasn’t much without the directed thrust of her portside engine. At least, in space, it wasn’t like you fell to the ground and exploded if the engines died. You just sat there, using up oxygen at as slow a rate as you could, hoping somebody would find your beacon.

  It felt good, of course, to have Merritt on her wing. He wouldn’t leave no matter what, and she felt another surge of love for him. She supposed she was going to get an earful about her wild and careless ways which had led her into this mess.

  The good news was that their torpedoes had taken out both destroyers. Though her comms were down, she had given Merritt hand signals which he relayed for her, ordering her squadron to their rally point. Out of torpedoes, there was no immediate need to risk hull-runs on the Primans with their autocannons.

  Yes, she thought, I’ll just sit here and enjoy Merritt not being able to tear a piece off my hide for a few minutes… Then she saw the Priman cruiser start its’ turn and noticed a couple of the anti-fighter batteries take a few potshots in their direction. She realized exactly when Elco did; if the Priman ship wasn’t going to make it out, it might as well avenge itself on the people sitting helplessly right behind it.

  “Oh damn,” Merritt muttered to himself. A second ago, he’d been planning out the exact bullet points of the rant he meant to unleash on Cory about her obvious desire to get blown up before they could get married. Now, however, he was pondering the certainty of that event.

  The Priman cruiser completed its’ turn and headed for them. They were most likely too small for primary laser batteries to target correctly, or perhaps they were damaged. Either way, his scanners told him they’d be in anti-fighter battery range in thirty seconds. He maneuvered his Talon up and in front of Cory’s Intruder. He sure as Hell wasn’t going to watch her ship get blown out from under her, and his guns still worked. Maybe he could destroy a couple turrets, or lead them away from her. He wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he’d think of something.

  Chapter 2

  Cory yelled helplessly at Merritt as he moved his fighter in front of hers. She knew he couldn’t hear her through the vacuum, couldn’t even get her through the comms since hers were offline. But it was a damn fool thing to do. Maybe she was a sitting duck, but he didn’t have to be. And yet she knew he would do nothing less. Helpless, she watched, but then something amazing happened. She saw four flashes, in rapid succession, from high to starboard, and she looked up to see the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. It was Avenger, rippling off all four forward torpedo tubes in rapid succession, from port to starboard. It was almost too short ranged for torpedoes, but she’d also noticed that the Priman cruiser didn’t seem to be fully operational, so it was highly probable their point defense systems wouldn’t shoot the torpedoes down. As soon as they cleared her hull, her portside laser batteries also opened up on the incoming Priman. Stabbing out through the darkness, she saw the bolts illuminate the shadowy Priman cruiser’s hull in the split second before impact. The cruiser’
s shields held briefly, even as she saw fire from three more Crusaders mercilessly open up on it. More torpedoes followed, and soon Cory’s own ship was eclipsed in shadow as one of them passed between her and the system’s sun.

  They were doing a quick firing run in their way out in pursuit of the rapidly-dwindling Priman fleet, but they’d done some damage in the meanwhile. She saw the cruiser absorb hit after hit, dozens, then too many to count, as laser batteries caused explosions to blossom all over the hull. With the cruiser mortally wounded, there was no point in firing the limited number of torpedoes Confed ships carried- they just unloaded a saturation bombardment of laser fire. There wasn’t even a series of explosions to see; it just became one gigantic, ever-expanding fireball that was fed by the few torpedoes that had already been launched before the cruiser had let go.

  It was frightening in its’ beauty. The utter destruction, the release of so much energy, the fury and might of those four great warships all concentrated on one lone target. It was too bad Crusader was not a suitable name for a person, or she’d be campaigning for that very name to Merritt if they ever got to have children.

  “Well, that about takes care of that,” Loren replied happily and with obvious relief. He saw the dissipating debris cloud of the Priman cruiser and focused his concentration back on the events ahead.

  Mastruk had ordered the launch of the SAR shuttle, and if nothing else it could shepherd Cory and the other damaged Talon back to a Confed ship once things cooled down.

  There was a multi-toned chime and one of the data techs raised his hand and pointed to a secondary repeater screen as Sarria had asked him to earlier.