Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Read online

  “So, we’re flying CAP again,” he started. “There goes the Killboard Party-slash-Alcohol Poisoning Event I had planned…” He turned to Loren. “XO doesn’t like us at all, does he?”

  Cory looked at Loren, who simply replied, “He’s the XO,” through clenched teeth.

  The jump-off time had come. The Sabre class heavy carriers Gallant, Galaxy, and the newly-commissioned Dauntless formed the core of the fleet, ringed by ten Starshaker class battleships, plus Confederation class cruisers, Pulsar class destroyers, and Crusader class hunter-killers. It was an all-out fleet action which left several other locations underdefended, but it was deemed worth the risk to take out one of the Priman shipyards and knock a supply depot out of commission.

  Squadrons of Intruders, Marauders, and a handful of Prowlers escorted by Talons formed a cloud of fighters that sped away from the fleet to take up their assigned positions. The Talaran fleet, composed of their modular ships with interchangeable sections, was already located ‘above’ the plane of the system, waiting for the timers to reach zero.

  Loren, along with the rest of Avenger’s Air Wing, sat in their hangar bays in launch position. There was no need to have them outside, since they would be riding close escort on Avenger anyway. All he could do was content himself with watching the tactical display while listening to the radio. It was aggravating, to say the least, to not have a chance to get out there and rid the galaxy of some Primans.

  Commander Velk stood on his command platform on the bridge surveying the displays of the system. It was almost time for him to leave. He saw live video of the shipyard, surrounded by tenders and cargo ships, as well as Priman heavy cruisers that would be permanently stationed in the system. There were picket stations as well that were being deployed outside of the system that would alert them to any hostile movements. Additionally, there were three small defense platforms that would be operational by the end of the day. Worst case scenario, the shipyard could power up and leave on a half hour’s notice, though the supplies would have to be abandoned. Still, Velk thought, it was a suitable arrangement.

  Off to one side of the bridge, alarms started to go off at the long range sensor station. Seconds later, close range sensors started blaring out warnings as well.

  Velk strode to the stations as fast as decorum would allow without looking him looking less than fully composed and regal.

  “Report!” he barked.

  “Commander, we have multiple alerts of inbound ships; they are showing up as enemy vessels, though exact hull matches aren’t in yet.”

  Velk watched the in-system displays as ships flickered into existence right on the edge of the gravity wells of the moons around his shipyard. Impossible- not even most Primans knew about this shipyard yet. But there it was, a fleet of almost two dozen Talaran warships.

  “Red Alert!” Velk commanded. “Release all ships to combat status and engage enemies with priority on defending the shipyard. Recall our Theater Reserve Fleet and get them here now! ” Velk turned to his weapons stations. “Launch all fighters, send half against the invaders and keep half in reserve, and get this ship over there now!”

  Crewmembers scrambled to obey, not wanting to disappoint their commander or incur his wrath for a substandard performance. Not that they needed the motivation- they firmly believed this galaxy was theirs for the taking, and that the inferior beings they were fighting would soon lose hope and relinquish their claim on it.

  Velk’s ships slightly outnumbered the Talarans, but the Theater Reserve Fleet would arrive soon and tip those scales further. That was the strategic bonus of being on the attack- while his fleets didn’t decisively outnumber the Confeds, he could choose the place of attack and concentrate his forces, making the enemy react to him, which gave him the advantage. Soon the Reserve Fleet would arrive to the rear of the Talaran formation, and they would be made to pay the price for their audacity.

  Suddenly, a new round of alarms started going off.

  “What now?” Velk bellowed to his sensor operators.

  “New contacts, Commander. Confed this time.”

  Velk looked at the sensor data on the large overhead holo display, and started sifting through the data. He started to recognize names- Gallant, Avenger, Majestic. This force was rapidly earning themselves a spot near the top of his must-kill list.

  With a flicker of motion, the Ninth Fleet materialized just in-system, pointed right at the Priman shipyard and running in at full speed. Traditionally, Avenger and the other Crusaders would have peeled off and made stealth approaches, launching torpedoes from all vectors and disappearing back out into space to repeat the process again and again until they were forced into close-in combat. But with the three-pronged approach, it was decided to keep them with the main force in the hopes that the enemy sensor operators wouldn’t look as hard out into space, and thus perhaps gain a few more seconds for the dispersed Intruders and Marauders to avoid detection.

  The Priman commander split his fighters three ways, one group hovering close to the capital ships, and one each moving to intercept the Talaran and Confed fleets. The Warbirds and Vipers had both launched from Avenger, but were still held in close reserve while the majority of the fighters defending the fleet ranged ahead to engage the Priman craft. The capital ships took a few ranging shots at each other, then started opening up at almost the same time. Into this chaos appeared the Intruders, Marauders, and escorting Talons from their out-system vector. The Priman commander was good and reacted quickly and without panicking; he sent most of the fighters defending his capital ships out to deal with the new Confed attackers, relying on the close-in defenses of his ships while the rest of the Priman fighters pressed their attack on the intruding fleets.

  Loren watched the displays, studying how each side operated. In a fleet action like this, a few surprise moves could sway momentum enough to completely alter the battle. A failed charge or loss of a critical capital ship could alter the direction, giving critical momentum to one side or the other. The Confeds had played it safe, keeping a large Combat Area Patrol near their main fleet to guard against long range enemy interceptors, while in turn launching large numbers of torpedoes in an attempt to batter through the outer layers of the enemy defenders. While Priman jamming techniques tended to have their way with Confed torpedoes, advances in recent versions had improved the ability to resist jamming and in some cases allowed the torpedoes to be manually steered to their targets. Still, large numbers were fired straight out, with ships launching large spreads reminiscent of battles of decades ago when guidance was spotty at best.

  Then, Loren saw the element that could turn the tables on the assault. A Priman task force emerged from hyperspace behind the Talarans, catching them between two Priman fleets. The Talaran’s main objective was to attack the shipyard while the Confeds kept the defenders busy, but that had just changed. The Talarans were now forced to fight a defensive battle, consolidating their forces and trying to beat back a renewed Priman attack on their rear.

  The Intruders and Marauders that had come in from out-system were quickly reassigned, and tasked with attacking the shipyard while the Ninth Fleet ran interference. They ran right through Velk’s fleet, who was expecting the small ships to attack them, not continue on. The attack ships ran straight and true while their torpedoes acquired locks, and in that span of time they were descended upon by the last group of Priman fighters attached to the main fleet. The Talons wheeled around to engage, but all the Primans had to do was damage or knock the attackers off their line of approach and disrupt their target lock. There was a great melee as the Priman fighters and Confed Talons swirled around space, firing, dodging, exploding, while in front of them the Intruders and Marauders drove on at high speed, waiting to get close enough to release their own weapons and turn to fight. Intruders and Marauders disappeared in bright flashes of light and debris as fire rained towards them, and all they could do was fly in a straight line and hope for the best. Every second they inched farther ahead of
the Primans and closer to the release point, and finally they were there. Seventy-two light torpedoes leapt from their rails and lanced through the darkness towards their target: the mobile shipyard.

  The Ninth Fleet was experiencing the fight of its’ life as well, dealing with attacking Priman fighters and the majority of the capital ships in the system.

  Admiral Illam was doing a good job of keeping his ships in their ‘Immunity Zone’, a distance at which his ships’ weapons did their greatest damage while at the same time giving his own countermeasures the best chance of success. The lower range of the IZ was based on laser cannons being at their most effective- at short range, their energy had not begun to dissipate like it did over distance, and the shields of the defending ship were most drained. At the upper range of the IZ were torpedoes- too far away and they’d used up much of their maneuvering fuel getting to the target, and the chances of getting shot down or jammed were higher. In the middle was the Immunity Zone, a range at which laser cannons were effective, torpedoes made more successful short runs to their targets, and countermeasures had enough time to engage incoming torpedoes and concentrate shields at projected laser impact points. Since most Confed ships simply carried varying numbers of the same weapons, it was easy enough to estimate the Immune Zone for your battle group. The Primans, of course, knew this as well, and the action between the Ninth Fleet and the Priman fleet was a series of large scale maneuvers, with brief meeting engagements, only to be followed by more maneuvering.

  The Confeds were trying to use their main fleet to draw the Primans away from the shipyards so their Intruders and Marauders could attack it, Velk knew, but there was only so much he could do about it. The Talarans were tied up with the Reserve Fleet, Velk’s own forces were engaged with the Confed main body, and those damned attack fighters had already released their torpedoes, reducing their remaining armament to lasers and autocannons. He watched the displays as his combat air patrol dispersed the attacking Confed fighters, who managed to break off to regroup farther out. He could count them out for a few minutes, at least.

  He was going to lose the shipyard, he knew. That feeling in his gut was rarely wrong, and as his belly churned he could see what would happen in a matter of seconds. The swarm of torpedoes was too much to counter. The defense platforms couldn’t handle much- they had already taken a pounding from Crusaders making stealth runs on them. Velk’s fleet was behind the projectiles, but in a tail chase like this they couldn’t be caught. The shipyard had several close-in anti-torpedo batteries, but they couldn’t hope to get more than a few. And even half of those torpedoes getting through would seal the fate of the yard, an injustice considering it hadn’t even welded its’ first keel yet.

  Despite the best efforts of his fleet, the inevitable happened. The torpedoes closed on the shipyard, peppering the surface with small initial explosions that turned into a greater number of larger explosions as secondary detonations went off. He didn’t have to glance at the tactical board to know the yard was lost.

  While he hated to admit defeat, it was a worse crime to throw good ships into a lost battle, and he had enough sense to value the preservation of his fleet over the pride of fighting a battle that wasn’t worth having anymore. With the shipyard lost, this system was useless to him. Besides, he wasn’t totally to blame- there was a security leak somewhere, and that would be his first priority. Actually, the second.

  Velk walked over to the comm. officer, and had him open a channel as he watched the shipyard come apart. “Attention fleet, this is your Commander. Unlikely as it may seem, the sneak attack on this system has cost us our shipyard. There’s no reason to stay here and fight for a lost cause when we can do damage elsewhere. Reserve Fleet, disengage and return to the rendezvous point. All other ships, form on my flagship as we pass the yard to pick up escape pods and survivors. Monitor your datalinks for orders to come shortly.”

  He paused for breath, collecting his thoughts and fighting to suppress the rage that beckoned him to lash out violently at something, anything. He turned to his advisors, Representatives Dag and Terir. Though technically they didn’t have a military rank within his fleet, Priman tradition held that these chosen members of the former and future ruling families acted on behalf of Velk when he set them on a task, and their counsel was always considered when making decisions.

  “Representatives, get me a list of the closest half dozen military targets, Confed or Talaran, whichever they may be. They’ve more than likely cannibalized forces from nearby garrisons and I doubt they expected my fleet to be here, so I think we’ll find at least a few of their nearest possessions underdefended. Split the list, and send half to the Reserve Fleet and assign half to this fleet- have the Reserve Fleet leave for their first target right away. We’ll leave for our first target as soon as we pick up survivors from the shipyard. Tell them to not risk losing too many ships if a target turns out to be well defended. This is retribution, not conquest- I want those targets destroyed, not captured.”

  Loren couldn’t believe his eyes. They’d done it. Nobody had expected the sizable Priman fleet to be here, but they’d managed to take out the shipyard anyway. With that resource gone, the Primans were marshaling their forces to pull out. The flagship swung by the shipyard, and his sensors showed them waiting for shuttles and escape pods that were appearing out of the debris field that used to be a new mobile shipyard. Impulse grabbed hold of him and he tapped the comm ‘transmit’ switch on his throttle levers.

  “Avenger Combat Control- This is Captain Stone requesting release for all Avenger’s Intruders and Talons to attack the Priman flagship and shuttles.” This was an opportunity that was only available to them since they’d been chained to their close reserve position, and he meant to take advantage of it.

  There was a brief burst of static, a cue that the source of the transmission had changed.

  “This is the XO. We need you to guard Avenger, that’s your tasking.”

  “I know, sir, but this is a target of opportunity. That flagship will be vulnerable while it’s picking up those ships. We can roll in hot, launch weapons, and be on the way out before they can get anyone after us. Call it a capture-or-destroy mission.”

  “You’re not equipped to capture anything with those ships, Captain.”

  “Ok, just ‘destroy’, then.”

  “Request denied, Captain. Maintain position. We’ll be regrouping soon, so stick close to Avenger.”

  Shae broke the connection, and Loren fumed. Was he doing this just to prove a point? They were wasting a valuable opportunity to go after a fleet flagship, and all the important types who tended to want to fly on the biggest vessel in the inventory. The possibility of disabling or even just causing damage to such a ship was worth the risk.

  He noticed Cory’s Intruder pull up next to him, and using hand gestures she signaled a comm frequency to dial in for a private conversation.

  He changed frequencies and looked over, prepared to hear a witty remark about the XO’s lineage or personal hygiene. But she just looked at him, waiting.

  “Alright,” Loren said, “I agree, you should have shot him on the Torino.”

  As soon as the Priman fleet had disappeared, Confed forces began to disperse. The Talarans were determined to take back the system, which wouldn’t be hard now that there were no Priman capital ships in orbit to contest the landing of troops. With their thanks, the Talarans had told Admiral Illam he was off the hook and free to leave.

  At the Viper’s command duty station, Loren brought up a battle damage assessment and was surprised to see the extent of the damage on both sides. Riding escort to a capital ship kept him shut out of the big picture that you tend to experience while dodging all around in a dogfight. Both sides had lost several ships, with more damaged. It wasn’t anything like the first few climactic battles of the war, though, where dozens of capital ships were destroyed in a single skirmish. With both sides having lost a large number of hulls, battles tended to wind down as soon as a
few major vessels took damage during deep space engagements. When fighting for a planet or other real estate, however, all bets were off and whatever price needed to be paid was done so. Still, in the open-space meeting engagements and recons, more often than not both sides were much more likely to part company than fight to the death. Until production capacity could bring them up to full fighting strength to replace some losses, both Confed and Priman forces were trying their hardest to save those valuable assets for the decisive engagements.

  The newly-commissioned heavy carrier Dauntless had taken the brunt of the Priman attack, and was limping back to Confed space escorted by a Crusader and two Pulsar class destroyers. They’d also lost a Confederation class cruiser/carrier. Nobody was quite sure what to call the cruisers that were finished off as escort carriers, capable of holding twenty-four fighters, since the Navy still didn’t have an official designation for them. The Navy just referred to it as a Confederation class carrier, but those in the service itself simply called them escort carriers. The Primans and Talarans had lost a like number of ships. The problem with the war now was that, after six months, they all knew each other’s tactics and how to counter them. Since nobody enjoyed a decisive advantage, battles tended to end quickly or else devolve into total bloodbaths.

  Loren was so focused on the information on the screen that he didn’t notice someone walk right up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.

  He turned and saw Cory standing there, looking as angry as he felt inside.

  “Well,” she started, “what else can that hump do to us?” Loren needed no explanation as to which hump Cory was referring to.

  Merritt had shown up as well, and Loren noticed that they had the hangar area to themselves; whether it was by coincidence or had been arranged, he wouldn’t want to guess.