The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (38 page)

“
Tactical?
”

“
It
’
s a Rizr C Class protected cruiser, it is adjusting heading
…
it
’
s now on an intercept course. They
’
ve just established weapons lock on us.
”

“
Fire control?
”

“
We
’
re charging the railgun capacitors, fifteen seconds to firing capability. Point defence is now on standby.
”

Vincent clipped his helmet into place.

“
Panic party?
”
he asked across the intercom.

“
Panic party mustering now, sir,
”
Mamista replied.
“
Closed up and ready.
”

“
Thank you Lieutenant. Coms, I think that
’
s long enough. Send our distress signal.
”

“
Understood sir, transmitting now Skipper,
”
replied the communications officer before turning back to his console.
“
Hawkings Base, this is the Luttrell Express, Raider, Raider, Raider
…”

“
Tactical, your recommendation?
”

“
He
’
s in too close for us to plausibly run for the red line. Recommend we reverse course and head for the planet.
”

“
Okay. Navigator, give helm the least time course back to the planet. Helmsman, make the turn and make it look sloppy.
”

Deceiver
started to slowly turn. As the bows came around the engines went to full power, or at least what would be full power for a standard in-system ship.

“
Skipper,
”
called out the communications officer,
“
we
’
re receiving an audio transmission from the Raider.
”

“
Let me hear it.
”

“
Ship of the Earth,
”
came the flat mechanical voice of a translation matrix,
“
deactivate
…
your engines, we are seizing
…
your vessel. Inflict damage on
…
your vessel, we will destroy
…
you. Leave your vessel undamaged
…
you will be unharmed.
”

They want the ship,
Vincent thought to himself,
thank God for that.

“
Bridge to Lieutenant Mamista, prepare the panic party.
”

“
Standing by sir. Are they going for it?
”

“
Looks like it. Stand by. Bridge to Engineering, I want a staggered shutdown of the engines to put us into a slow tumble. Helm don
’
t, repeat don
’
t, compensate. Starting now.
”

“
Understood sir,
”
replied the engineer across the intercom link. The vibrations from astern faded and instead of the steady pressure of acceleration pushing him into his seat, Vincent felt the ship settle into a tumble.

“
Bridge to Lieutenant Mamista, dispatch the panic party.
”

“
Roger.
”

The hatches for the two shuttle bays popped open, each releasing a burst of atmosphere. One shuttle launched, its main engines firing dangerously close to the ship
’
s hull as it accelerated away. The second rolled out at a safer rate but also started to move away from
Deceiver
, but then hesitated.

“
Infrared spike!
”
shouted Tactical,
“
they
’
re firing. Shuttle two has been hit!
”

Vincent gritted his teeth. He
’
d never liked the idea of the panic party, but they needed to give the impression that the ship had not only been abandoned, but abandoned so quickly that the key systems hadn
’
t been sabotaged. Shuttle Two had been designated as the one that would look as if the crew were thinking about going back, to do what they should have done before leaving.

“
They
’
ve lost a wingtip, hull integrity looks okay.
”

On the display he saw the shuttle take the hit, roll and accelerate away from
Deceiver
on full burn, keeping the Q-Ship between them and the raider. Vincent
’
s attention shifted to the blip representing the Rizr ship, trying to judge whether it
’
s captain was convinced by their performance.

“
Skipper,
”
said the tactical officer,
“
the raider is continuing to close. I think he
’
s going for a least time approach.
”

Of course least time still meant in the region of seventy minutes, waiting for the Rizr ship to enter the effective range of their railguns, during which the alien could fire at any time. If the alien sent their own shuttle, with a prize crew, they could keep the range dangerously long. But that didn
’
t happen. The protected cruiser continued to accelerate in, eager to claim its reward before Faithie and her squadron could receive his transmission.

“
Target has crossed though the ten K mark,
”
Tactical reported about fifty minutes after the panic party left.
“
If he stays at the current deceleration rate, he
’
s going to come to rest relative to us at a range of fifteen hundred kilometres. That
’
s fifteen minutes from now.
”

“
Understood Tactical,
”
Vincent replied. There was a slight croak in his voice after sitting motionless and silent for nearly an hour.
“
Helm, fire control, I intend to engage at three thousand kilometres. When I give the word, be ready to present broadside and fire.
”
Concentrating so intently on the holo display he scarcely heard the affirmative replies. Three thousand kilometres would be well within the range at which they could reasonably expect to hit a target with railguns, but if there was one thing all his training had taught him, it was that
Deceiver
needed to win in one broadside. Anything resembling a fair fight wasn
’
t likely to end well for them.

Another ten minutes inched past as the raider kept closing and
Deceiver
continued to tumble. Finally Vincent heard the blip in his earpiece to indicate the raider was now three thousand kilometres from them.

“
Helm, present port broadside! Fire Control, fire at will!
”

Deceiver
’
s
engines erupted jolting the ship out of its tumble, and swinging it round, bringing to bear her two portside guns. Working from passive sensors fire control had been given all the time they needed to develop a firing solution. The two big railguns were still hidden behind gun ports that were little more than foil, just enough to fool any radar or visual inspection of the hull but not enough to in anyway impede the salvo of three rounds each of them now fired through the ports.

The Rizr ship got a little under seven seconds of warning. They reacted with commendable speed, switching their engines from all-back to all-ahead as the ship started to try to dive under the salvoes
’
projected course. But it took time to overcome the ship
’
s inertia and the six rounds weren
’
t aimed at a single point. Instead they were spread out to cover all of the points
Deceiver
’
s
computer had calculated the Rizr ship could reach in the allowed time.

The protected cruiser had little real armour, but this was inconsequential as no practical thickness of plate could have stopped the rounds from going all the way through anyway. Instead the cruiser
’
s designers had given it heavy subdivision, to limit the effects of any single hit. But the railgun
’
s designers had their own counter to that. The two rounds were more than a single hit each. As they penetrated the protected cruiser
’
s outer hull the tiny amount of explosives inside fired, just enough to fragment the rounds. The effect wasn
’
t unlike a canister blast, reducing two cone shaped areas of the internal volume to little more than shredded metal work.

Much of the forward section of the protected cruiser lost power, including its bridge and most but not all of its armament. Vincent felt his seat jerk as a laser shot cut into
Deceiver
’
s
hull and a pair of missiles arced out from their launchers. On the damage control display two cargo bays went red as they decompressed.

“
Point defence, Commence! Commence! Commence! Fire Control, put him down!
”
Vincent shouted.

“
Targeting their power plant,
”
Fire Control shouted back.

Deceiver
’
s
point defence was feeble by warship standards, but more than capable of coping with two chemical powered missiles. The cruiser wouldn
’
t get the chance to fire again. With the bridge out of action this time there was no evasive action and all six rounds went in.

There were no survivors.

___________________

“
To Commander Espey and the crew of
Deceiver
, a toast to your success, to your skill and to your bravery,
”
Shibanova announced raising his glass. There was loud agreement from all those present. Standing beside the Admiral, Vincent looked appropriately modest. The gathering was being held in one of the smaller fleet meeting rooms on Hawkings Base and almost every officer from the Geriatrics was present. There was Willis noticed, an almost party atmosphere, with much back slapping for the officers of
Deceiver
. At the head of the room Shibanova tapped a spoon against his glass until the volume level dropped. At odds with the atmosphere in the room his expression was serious.

“
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Before we carry on to enjoy the evening, I would like to say a few words. Out here we are fighting what is in essence a forgotten war, one that most of our fellow citizens on Earth don
’
t even realise is happening. This makes being on Dryad Station probably the most thankless task of any within the fleet today. We have been granted few opportunities for success and many for grinding failure.
”
The Admiral paused and looked out upon the assembled officers.
“
We cannot afford to blind ourselves. Yes,
Deceiver
has enjoyed greater success than I expected. Once again I salute Commander Espey, but the loss of a ship will not have diminished the Rizr
’
s desire to take this system from us. Indeed they now need to have something to show for their efforts here. We must be ready for whatever comes next.
”
The Admiral forced a smile before concluding:
“
tonight however we celebrate.
”
There was a cheer but even to Willis
’
s socially insensitive ear it was less enthusiastic than it had been. There was nothing in his statement that she would say was wrong as such, but maybe it hadn
’
t been the right time to say it.

“
Always a cheerful folk are the Russians,
”
Vincent said from behind her.

“
Ah, am I lucky enough to be in the presence of the hero?
”
she replied as she turned.
“
Done dealing with your fans?
”

“
One must always remember the little people,
”
Vincent replied with a smile. The two of them took up a position against a bulkhead. The celebration was getting back into gear as officers who spent weeks living in glorified tin cans looking at the same faces, renewed acquaintances. At least two officers from
Deceiver
were taking  crowds of admirers through a blow-by-blow replay of the brief battle.