Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) (31 page)

“And the Phage?” Lieutenant Davis asked.

“The
Delphi
reports that half a dozen Alphas and an indeterminate number of Bravos have begun massing beyond the system’s outer debris field,” Keller said. “The
Icarus
is reporting in that both Black Fleet battlegroups are inbound. They sent a com drone ahead of them with their status and armament.”

“That makes the Columbiana debacle not a complete waste,” Jackson muttered. “Any CIS presence making itself known?”

“Not that anyone has reported, sir,” Keller said.

“Tactical, you’re clear to run the active sensors,” Jackson said. “Standard power for now. Establish the Link with the other ships in the system as quickly as you can. Hopefully everyone has the correct key codes loaded.”

Over the next twelve hours, Jackson concentrated on getting their early warning detection systems operational and negotiating with the other captains to determine how they would coordinate the coming battle. It was a contentious argument, but in the end, the holdouts grudgingly conceded operational authority within the Nuovo Patria system to Jackson and agreed that the
Ares
would fly the flag.

Once that little bit of politics was set aside, Jackson began looking over the haphazard formations floating through the system and immediately started issuing orders to get them in position. There was some balking at the fact he was breaking up battlegroups, which spawned a whole other series of discussions to smooth over egos and get them all moving in the right direction again.

He was splitting up the existing formations to best utilize each individual ship by its type and capabilities rather than just keeping them randomly grouped for convenience. At least that was half of the truth that he told the pouty captains. He also wanted to break up existing chains of command that could compromise his ability to have orders instantly obeyed when issued. He couldn’t have a Third Fleet frigate CO calling up to the heavy cruiser in their formation to confirm what they’d been ordered to do.

All while this was going on, and the system was awash in thermal flares of starships firing their main engines to get into position, the Phage continued to amass outside the boundary. They were up to eight Alphas, and there was no way they would attack such a fortified human position with so few of their heavyweights. But there were already dozens of Bravos that could be detected zipping around. If they sent in a few waves of the smaller ships first, Jackson was worried about his total number of available missiles being depleted before the real battle even started. That may be where the
Starwolf
-class ships came in, their superior speed and acceleration allowing them to get in close enough for laser fire and auto-mag rounds.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any starfighters,” Barrett remarked at one of the impromptu planning sessions at the back of the bridge.

“There aren’t any starfighters even operational. Not for many, many years now,” Jackson said.

“That seems a little shortsighted, all things considered,” Barrett said.

“They were never an effective platform,” Jackson said. “Couldn’t carry enough fuel or firepower to make them worthwhile. They were relegated to orbital defense once starships became fast enough to render them obsolete, but better surface-to-orbit weapons were the last nail in their coffin.”

“Well, it’d be better to have something small and quick against those Bravos,” Barrett insisted. “Something other than a missile we can’t get back once it’s fired.”

“Let’s focus on what we actually do have on hand, Lieutenant Commander.” Jackson didn’t bother to hide his irritation.

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s eerie to watch them just sit out there,” Davis said. “Waiting and planning, just like us.”

“But unlike us, they’re gaining intelligence with every unit added and can operate using a single, unified consciousness, and they don’t get tired,” Jackson said. “That’s why I’m debating ordering a preemptive strike now, before they get too many Alphas to risk getting close and before the Charlies show up.”

****

“Captain, the
Ares
is requesting a two-way com channel with you,” the
Brooklands’s
com officer said.

The missile cruiser had been pushed as hard as Lee had dared in order to get to Nuovo Patria in time to be of help. He was more than a little surprised at the sheer amount of Fleet ships within the system. Once they’d established their Link, he was equally shocked to see that the Phage appeared to be simply bunching up outside the system and making no overt signs they intended to attack.

“Put it through,” Lee said. “Main display.”

Senior Captain Jackson Wolfe’s face appeared on the screen. “Captain Lee, I’ll try to be brief.” He, too, was sitting on his bridge and surrounded by spacers and officers frantically moving about in the background. “First of all, thank you for coming. Your load of Shrikes may prove to be invaluable.”

“Anything we can do to be of service, Captain,” Lee said.

“It seems we may have a use for the
Brooklands
sooner rather than later, but there is some risk,” Jackson said. “So far, the Phage seem to be more than happy to hang back and wait while their forces trickle in. I’m operating under the assumption that once the Charlies appear, they’ll attempt to clear a path down to Nuovo Patria.”

“A logical assumption,” Lee agreed. “What’s our mission, sir?”

“I want to kick the hornet’s nest and try to elicit a reaction while they’re not yet at full strength,” Jackson said. “There are still less than a dozen Alphas, so I feel that now is the perfect time to strike, but it will require flying the
Brooklands
quite close to where they’re currently sitting.”

“And we’re not fast enough to outrun them if the reaction we get is a flat out counter-offensive.” Lee nodded. “We’re here to work, Captain, not spectate. Where do you want us?”

“Form up with Ninth Squadron, and I’ll send you the mission parameters en route,” Jackson said.

“Confirmed that we’re joining formation with the
Ares
.” Lee glanced at his display. “We’ll be underway momentarily.”

“Very good, Captain,” Jackson said. “
Ares
out.”

“Looks like we’re to be the first sacrificial lamb in this battle,” the XO said with obvious bitterness.

“Stow that garbage, Mister,” Lee said. “The Senior Captain does not throw away lives needlessly. We came here to do a job, and we’re going to do it, understood?”

“Understood, sir,” the XO replied.

“Nav, plot a course to the trailing edge of Ninth Squadron’s formation,” Lee said. “Best possible speed. Coms, let Engineering know we’re about to fire the mains.” He looked around at the fearful faces of his bridge crew and let out a slow breath.

“We’ve been afforded a great honor,” he told them. “The
Brooklands
will fire the opening shots in what will likely be a long and bloody defensive war against a terrible enemy.
We
will be the ones to punch them in the eye first and stand defiantly. Let’s make certain that when the name
Brooklands
is uttered for years to come, it’s done so with reverence.”

“Yes, sir!” a senior specialist shouted out from the back of the bridge, breaking the silence and causing others to follow suit. The decks began to rumble and vibrate as the
Brooklands
got underway and, despite what he’d just said to the crew, his stomach knotted in fear as he flew the ship and crew to their doom.

****

“Data coming in from the gravimetric sensor net confirms that the Phage are still milling just outside the system, moving in relation to the primary star,” Davis reported.

Since he didn’t really need an XO on the bridge for the new class of ship, Jackson moved her back to OPS so she and Hayashi could split shifts and stay fresh.

“Have the
Icarus
and
Brooklands
completed their maneuvers?” Jackson asked.


Icarus
is in position.
Brooklands
is moving up and will be tucked in within the next few minutes,” Barrett reported.

“Coms, release the
Brooklands
,” Jackson said. “I want her accelerating full bore along the course we’ve designated. Inform Captain Lee that the
Ares
and the
Icarus
will overtake him before they’re anywhere near the target area.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Tactical, have any new Alphas or Charlies arrived yet?”

“I don’t believe so, sir,” Barrett said. “However, the Phage seem to be using gravity manipulation in their reactionless drives, and it is causing some interference with the new sensor grids whenever one of the big ones move.”

“Understood,” Jackson said. “Just keep as accurate a running tally as you can, and make sure it’s available over the Link.”


Brooklands
is now accelerating, Captain,” Lieutenant Keller said even as the bright flare of the cruiser’s engines passed within a few kilometers of the
Ares
on the way out toward the edge of the system.

“Tactical, track the
Brooklands,
and inform the Helm when to get underway ourselves,” Jackson said.

On the surface, it made no sense to send the
Brooklands
ahead first and then run both destroyer escorts as hard as they could go to catch her, but this opening engagement was just as much about provocation as it was positive outcome. By flying a single, slower cruiser out to the Phage, he hoped to make them a little anxious to pounce on it, as it would seem to be a soft target with nine Alphas sitting there, but he was more interested in what reaction two of the fastest ships in the Fleet coming at them would garner. Would they hold fast? Would they break their tight formation and swarm into the system in a frenzy?

Nobody could say for certain, but after exhaustively reviewing Dr. Allrest’s data on the flight to Nuovo Patria, Jackson felt eighty percent certain as to what the Phage would do. With the numbers they had available, the “hive mind” of the Phage would be reaching levels of intelligence that would allow them to think and react strategically, rather than as individual fighters. With the new detection grid in place, he would also be able to see how long it took them to react after he and Celesta Wright began their approach.

The
Brooklands
was so slow compared to the smaller, speedy destroyers, that it was nearly nine hours later before she was approaching the point where she would intersect the arc to travel around the edge of the system. The
Ares
and
Icarus
would take a more direct line and, with their ability to change course more quickly, would be in perfect trailing position to make sure the cruiser had cover while making her escape. Jackson was running the crew on half watches to make sure every six hours, fresh personnel were rotated in, so the tension of staring down a silent enemy wasn’t resting on the shoulders of a few.

“Standby!” Barrett was calling out as Jackson walked onto the bridge, timing his arrival perfectly. “Ten minutes until we get underway.”

“Captain.” Ensign Hayashi leaped out of the command chair when he spotted Jackson. “Main engines are hot and ready to provide thrust. We’re minutes away from—”

“I heard. Thank you, Ensign,” Jackson told the nervous young man.

It had been his first watch in the big chair, and he was obviously terrified of screwing something up despite the fact any movement by the Phage would still give them at least ten hours before needing to be ready. “Tactical, put a countdown on the main display. Helm, when you see zero, take us to maximum acceleration. OPS, make sure the
Icarus
mimics our movement.”

“Engines ahead full,” the helmsman called out, smoothly pushing the throttle all the way up just as the timer reached zero. Jackson leaned into the surge of acceleration as the
Ares’s
engines pushed her ahead harder than could be compensated by the grav generators.

“The
Icarus
went to full power less than .02 after us,” Hayashi reported, now sitting back at the OPS station. “Time to vector intercept… four hours, eleven minutes. We’ll overtake the
Brooklands
forty minutes after turning onto the new course.”

“Tactical, keep an eye out for any movement by the Phage or the
Brooklands
herself,” Jackson said. “Captain Lee has been instructed not to risk his ship if the enemy decides to meet this gambit with overwhelming force. He will be turning back into the system and Battlegroup One from the Seventh will come out to meet the initial rush.”

“Aye, sir,” Barrett said.

Jackson couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he watched the green line on the tactical display that represented the
Ares’s
flight path begin to rapidly overtake the
Brooklands’s
. The cruiser was over fifteen years old, underpowered in her prime, and had been given engines with only basic maneuvering in mind. In the limited distance of this attack run, the old girl would never reach her maximum velocity. The two
Starwolf
-class ships chasing her down, however, would come into the engagement so fast they would be required to brake aggressively if the Phage took the bait and entered the system, otherwise they’d simply overfly the
Brooklands
and leave her as an easy target for the enemy.

The next four hours were brutally dull. Despite his years in service, albeit very little of it in combat, Jackson was always taken by the fact that battle in space seemed to be hours and hours of waiting and a few brief moments of pure adrenaline, followed by more waiting if you survived.

The biggest problem was that Terran ships simply couldn’t accelerate or maneuver in a manner that made the whole endeavor practical, even within the confines of a star system. The Phage could move about in three dimensions as if gravity and inertia didn’t exist, but it took a ship the size of the
Ares
hundreds of thousands of kilometers to change directions or velocity, and even then only in a manner the local conditions would allow.

Even with the available power of the massive main engines, the
Ares
couldn’t simply fly away from a planet when in a holding orbit. She’d have to begin accelerating while staying in orbit, until she could achieve enough velocity to break away. What galled Jackson the most was that the ship had artificial gravity and the miracle of the warp drive, so it would appear that Tsuyo R&D had a pretty good idea of how to create, modify, and nullify gravity. It seemed obvious, at least to him, that by now they should have at least been able to adapt the tech to a working starship engine.

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