Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Read online

  The foursome leapt over the wall and came crashing down in a heap on the other side.

  “How graceful,” Captain Herin said with a smirk.

  “I’ll show you how to fall gracefully when we get back aboard ship,” Mithus replied, glad to know the Marine was loose enough to make a smart-ass remark.

  “I would be honored to hit you repeatedly.”

  “Ready?”

  Captain Herin checked something on the faceplate of his helmet, then nodded.

  “First team,” he yelled over the commlink. “Advance! Second team, cover!”

  Captain Herin stood up just enough to clear the wall they were using as cover, and let fly with a long series of short, controlled bursts from his rifle. Amateur soldiers and poorly trained conscript armies would simply hold down the trigger and hose everything in sight, recoil and aiming be damned. A properly trained soldier kept the bursts short in order to re-train his weapon on the target and ensure the best accuracy possible. Mithus knew he was dealing with the best. Well, the best who weren’t SAR troops, at least.

  As one, the first team advanced to new positions, then dug in and started to fire so the second team could move up. Standard doctrine was for the advancing team to pass through the dug in team, to switch off who was advancing into enemy fire. While Captain Herin and the second team moved through, Mithus and his bunch stopped at the first team’s dug in position. Mithus and Von would have preferred to be out front, but it was more important to keep the Senator in as safe a position as possible.

  They did this two more times before they were in position on the North side of the plaza. They continued to lose men, and nobody could tell if they were taking out any Primans in the process because they were firing from covered positions.

  “Ok, here’s where it gets tricky,” Mithus said to Dennix and Damar.

  “As opposed to the lazy stroll it’s been so far?” yelled Ples Damar.

  Ignoring him, Mithus continued to talk as he changed magazines in his rifle again. He had already used up half his solid ammo and a third of his energy cells. “Once we’re out of the plaza and onto the street, we hang a left and run for it. The dropship will be several blocks down the street. I don’t know exactly where it will land because there may be traffic in the way or some other obstacle. In any case, what I said earlier stands. You stay with Confed troops, keep your heads down, and run. Ready?”

  The rearmost fire team moved up as the forward team provided covering fire. The second team passed through the first and onto a wide boulevard that was framed on both sides of the street with shorter office buildings in the ten to fifteen story range. The ground floors were often given over to shops and restaurants, all of which were filled with frantically running members of the local population. The street was a mess as well, stopped up with several ground effect vehicles that had crashed into each other and been left abandoned. There were even a few hovercars whose owners must have chosen to descend from the higher traffic lanes and travel on foot because of the dogfights raging in the sky above. It was good cover for the Confeds, but would slow them down. As Captain Herin took stock of the situation, he realized they would need to travel five city blocks to an area large enough for the dropship to set down. They had four minutes to get there before the ship landed and became a target.

  Commander Velk watched as the tables turned again. The momentum of the battle swung back and forth, like a balance scale with two equal weights on each side. If one would bump the scale, each side would take its’ turn bouncing higher, the oscillations slowly dampening, until equilibrium was reached. Velk feared equilibrium. To battle an enemy on equal footing was to risk defeat; any good commander knew that victory was ultimately achieved by stacking the deck so heavily in your favor that you couldn’t help but have a win if you wanted it.

  His main fleet still hadn’t committed itself to decisive engagement, relying on the swarming masses of fighter craft between the fleets and long range batteries to keep the Confeds menauvering. His recently called up reserves, however, were being more aggressive, heading right into the Confed positions and closing to gun range. He noticed that Officer Salm’s ship, the Summoner, was leading the charge towards the landing force capital ships holding position near the derelict Centurion stations.

  “Hail the Birthright,” Velk commanded his communications station. With a nod from the officer, Velk knew the channel was open. “Captain Visat,” Velk began as soon as the Priman captain’s face appeared. Captain Visat snapped to attention and waited for Velk’s words. “I want you to close the range and engage the Confederation fleet with your main batteries. This engagement will not be decided by fighter craft.”

  “Understood, Commander.”

  Velk simply nodded, a gesture that his communications officers knew was his signal to end the transmission.

  “Are you sure it’s wise to order our capital ships into gun range?” This question was posed by Representative Dag. Velk noted that Tash had been conspicuously silent, speaking only when spoken to. While normally not one to keep his own counsel, Tash was also fairly transparent when it came to his plans and desires, politically or otherwise. This was why Velk distrusted him. He knew Tash’s family was next in line to rule, if not Tash himself. Either Tash feared giving Velk the wrong answer to an important question and face retribution, or perhaps he feared giving him the right answer and making Velk look good. Either way, his silence didn’t serve any purpose. Velk decided to change that, and hoped it would also serve to put the man on notice.

  “You tell me, Representative Tash,” Velk commented. “Should I hold our forces back and let the fighters battle it out, or send in our ships of the line?”

  Tash, to his credit, didn’t get flustered, though Velk could see the signs of Tash trying to phrase his answer. “I can see why you have done this, Commander,” Tash began. “Though to tell it for what it is admits a failing on our part.”

  Velk was intrigued now. Was Tash actually going to give a meaningful opinion?

  With no sign from Velk to stop, Tash continued. “We have no equivalent to the Confederation’s Marauder design, and to an extent their Intruder as well. Our ships, while fielding superior long range energy weaponry, do not have the torpedo technology the Confederation has. Their torpedo technology exposes us to concentrated long range guided attacks, which you can see on the holo displays. Since we cannot respond in kind, the best we can do is attempt to thwart those torpedo runs. However, the offense is then one sided. To even the odds, we would have to engage them in main battery range, weapons which are essentially equals to the Confederation ships.”

  Velk was impressed. So Tash was actually paying attention. The downside was that Tash could also have been laying the groundwork for exposing Velk’s shortcomings should the campaign not go well. He would probably even consider this to be his pivotal moment, the day he began calling into question the abilities of his Commander.

  “Excellent analysis, Representative. While we have had success adapting Confederation torpedo technology to some of our interceptors, we’re not nearly on a par with them in that realm of weaponry. So we move in and take advantage of our superior numbers to split up their fleet. I have prepared maneuvers for this occasion, which our captains will be implementing once they engage.”

  Captain Salm watched as the Confederation ships got closer and closer. She had already launched all her fighters to join the rest that were reaching out ahead of their task force, seeking to do battle with the Confederation fighter craft and prevent them from launching torpedoes at their big ships.

  The good news was that her target, which her Intelligence officers were calling the Ninth Fleet, had split its’ forces noticeably. There was an element of seven vessels consisting of the large assault ships escorted by three battleships, four derelict in space around the Centurion battle stations, twelve that had started towards the rear of the main Priman fleet, and another seven that were roaming the area that was obviously considered their area of resp
onsibility. She, on the other hand, was part of an element of twenty vessels that could be concentrated on any target and have vastly superior numbers. The entire Priman force turned towards the hovering Marine Assault ships and their three battleship escorts.

  “This is not going to end well…” muttered a sensor officer as he stood up to make sure people saw him. “Admiral!” the young man called out. As soon as Admiral Illam had turned, the sensor officer continued from his perch at the rear of the bridge in the sensor station. “Admiral Illam, the approaching Priman ships have changed course. They’re headed straight for the assault ships.”

  On the spacious bridge of the carrier Gallant, Admiral Illam stood in the center and let the information come to him. He nodded at the sensor tech, then turned to the main holo display. Sure enough, the Primans were changing course, fighters racing ahead, apparently spoiling for a confrontation. The only problem was that his forces were divided; the new Priman ships were closer to the Assault Ships than he was, and the seven ships of his immediate command weren’t nearly enough to protect the high value assets anyway.

  The Admiral started barking orders without turning around, keeping his eyes focused on the holo display, a small part of him fearing that he would lose his grasp of the battle if he looked away for even a second. It would take him too long to get back into the information flow, so he simply didn’t take his eyes off it.

  “Communications, alert our element to form up and head for the Assault ships at emergency speed. Recall the ships we sent against the Priman fleet.” He looked at the battleship icons guarding the Assault Ships. “And get me a hold of Captain Pencron on the Formidable.”

  Onboard the carrier Galaxy, Fleet Admiral Dant had noticed what the Ninth Fleet was about to experience. Unfortunately, her Third Fleet had its’ own problems.

  The pilotless Talons had swarmed the Priman fleet, performing basic combat maneuvering. It was not exactly inspired flying, but it kept a great many Priman fighters occupied. She even noticed individual dogfights on her monstrous holographic display, seeing how, despite their differences, the pilots of both sides fought with the same drive and intensity. Whether it was a flawed observation, rumor mongering, or just overzealous public relations, there had seemed to be a feeling the Confed fighter pilots and their ships were noticeably superior to their Priman equivalents. And while she knew that any fighter pilot would readily agree that they were the best, the truth was that the Primans were good, too. Not having anything else to do in the depths of uninhabited space all those years was apparently a very conducive environment to learning all about how to fight.

  The pilotless Talons were now, however, dwindling. They had in fact taken out a number of Priman fighters, but their main goal had been to attack Priman capital ships, which had also gone fairly well. Expectations were low, but the project had been relatively effective. Their lead ship during the HQ breakout, the cruiser Defiance, had been mortally wounded and had rammed a Priman cruiser as her escape pods fired the Confed ship’s crew into space. In a fit of vengeance, the surrounding Priman capital ships had made it a point to fire on and pick off every last one of the escape pods, sending the all volunteer crew into the depths of space and time with their ship.

  Now, it was apparent that the Primans were going to close the distance for direct gunnery. Fleet Admiral Dant could maneuver some more and buy a few minutes, but the Third was going to have to engage the Primans sooner or later. With fully a third of her fighter craft destroyed or disabled, she ordered them clear of the impending crossfire and had her combat controllers start planning attacks for the small craft on the periphery of the Priman fleet. The heavy action would be right in the middle.

  She keyed the microphone on her command chair for shipwide intercom. “All hands in the Fleet, prepare for close action. The Primans are headed this way and they aim to get in our faces. I once had an Admiral tell me years ago that you can never go wrong by putting your ship next to that of the enemy, and that’s what we’re going to do. Damage Control parties, man your stations. Third Fleet, let’s give the Primans Hell and get our planet back.”

  Around her on the bridge, Fleet Admiral Dant heard a “yeah” as her crew yelled out in support. She just hoped that everyone would be as enthusiastic when things got ugly.

  Captain Pencron nodded again as the screen, which had a second ago displayed Admiral Illam’s face, went dark and once again became a repeater for a damage control screen on the other side of the bridge. Admiral Illam had confirmed what Pencron’s own computers were telling him- that the under-strength reinforcements he needed wouldn’t get there until after the Primans had been among the Assault Ships for several minutes.

  Unfortunately, after the initial run-in to the system, most of the Assault Ship’s escorts had been reassigned to the element that had taken off towards the rear of the main Priman fleet. There had, of course, been no reason to keep too many ships behind since the Centurions were offline and no other Priman ships were in sight. And so, left with the three battleships that had led the charge into Delos’ atmosphere in the first place, the Assault Ships stayed on station while the rest of the capital ships had been sent away, leaving Pencron and his forces seriously undergunned against the oncoming Priman forces.

  He needed a plan. He looked once again at the marauding Primans, noticed that they were splitting their forces into two elements of ten ships each. Vector predictors on the holo display suggested that ten were headed towards the three battleships, and ten were headed towards the four assault ships.

  He noticed that the fighter escort around the Assault Ships was forming up as well, and would be able to engage the Primans before the capital ships got within gun range.

  “Communications,” Pencron started, “get me whoever’s in charge of the assault ship fighter escort.”

  Cory was watching the developing battle with increasing unease. The Primans, whether on purpose or by the cruel hand of fate, had launched their attack at the absolute wrong time. Or, depending on whose side you were on, the perfect time. Thinking there were no other ships within range, some of the Ninth Fleet had broken off to attack the rear of the Priman main fleet. Now, the Confed ships would be outnumbered two to one until the departed ships could return, and by the time they did it could very well be all over. The comparison of numbers was also not entirely fair, since the Marine Assault Ships had few high powered weapons and relatively poor defenses against ship-to-ship engagements.

  Her comm system beeped, and she saw there was an incoming hail from the Formidable, the battleship that was leading the element of three that Cory could already see surging out ahead of the Assault Ships. She clicked the button that connected her, and saw the face of Captain Pencron.

  “Captain Sosus, this is Captain Pencron on the Formidable.” The man’s proud demeanor and take charge bearing was something she noticed instantly.

  “What can I do for you, Captain?” Cory replied.

  “I’m going to take my battleships ahead and engage the incoming Priman fleet,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “With three against twenty odds, you could probably use some Intruders to help out, I’d say,” Cory replied, knowing that this was her chance to finally do something. She knew Merritt was probably shaking his head in the cockpit of his Talon, resigning himself to trying to keep her from getting shot down.

  “I agree, any help would be appreciated, though I’m comfortable with the odds. Just about fair to them, I figure,” he said with a smile.

  Cory had already begun requesting a video link to Admiral Illam on the Gallant, and soon saw his face and Pencron’s each using half of her secondary display screen.

  “Admiral, I’m requesting release of my entire Assault Ship close support element to assist Captain Pencron.”

  Admiral Illam knew this was coming, as well, and also knew that if he forced her to sit out, she might very well climb out of her Intruder and fly to the Priman ships under her own power, fueled simply by her intense drive and de
sire to take down the Primans.

  “Approved, Captain Sosus. Coordinate with Captain Pencron on your assault; consider yourself attached to his element for now. The Gallant, Avenger, and the rest of us will catch up with you about ten minutes after you engage, so just delay them if you can until we get there so we can all concentrate fire.”

  Cory nodded, knowing this was optimism at best. By the time the seven ships of Illam’s force, including Avenger, Gallant, and the battleship Majestic, arrived, Cory and Captain Pencron’s forces would have been well engaged. Another five minutes after that would see the arrival of the twelve other ships of the Ninth that had been sent off to attack the Priman fleet. Cory knew the odds, but she also had a new maneuver that all the Intruder pilots of the Ninth were prepared to try out.

  Chapter 9

  Mithus steeled himself for what was coming. Urban warfare had its’ own unique set of challenges and advantages. There was lots of cover available, and no real room for aerial support from the Primans due to the tall buildings on each side of the street. Any ship trying to fire on them would have no room to maneuver and would be an easy target. On the downside, the abundant cover would also slow his progress, and there was a virtual guarantee of large amounts of shrapnel and flying object injury from blaster hits and explosions.

  As the other element of Marines cleared the plaza and met up with the forward unit, they quickly decided to have each element take one side of the street so as not to bunch up as targets.