The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (39 page)

“Commander,” Tabitha snapped.  “Those missiles are targeted on the planet!”

“Put them at the top of the targeting list,” Griffin ordered.  The Druavroks didn't seem to be aiming at any cities, which almost certainly meant antimatter warheads.  One or two hits would be enough to slaughter most of the planet’s population.  “Everything else will have to cope on its own.”

He gritted his teeth as the enemy belched another barrage of missiles.  This time, they were targeting the remaining warships and the orbital defence network,
knowing
that the defences couldn't waste their fire covering themselves.  The Druavroks might not be able to understand why he - and the other defenders - were concentrating on saving the planet, but that didn't keep them from trying to take advantage of it.  There was nothing he could do about it either; all he could do was watch, helplessly, as his remaining warships died.

“They're targeting us,” Tabitha said.  “Missiles incoming.  I say again, missiles incoming.”

“Deploy decoys,” Griffin ordered.  Thankfully, the last of the planet-bound missiles had been swatted out of space.  “And concentrate on hitting their battleships.”

“Aye, Commander,” Tabitha said.

Griffin watched, grimly, as the flight of missiles closed in on the naval base, the missiles slipping into terminal attack velocity as they approached.  There would be no need to make any last minute course alterations, not against a target that couldn’t move.  But the naval base had heavy-duty shields to make up for its lack of manoeuvrability.  Three missiles made it through the point defence to slam into the shields ...

The station rocked, violently.  “Three direct hits, sir,” Hassan reported.  “Shields at sixty percent!”

“Another wave of missiles incoming,” Tabitha said.  Griffin heard a note of panic in her voice and hastily tapped his console, ready to take over from her if necessary.  “Point defence is attempting to intercept.”

“Take them out, if you can,” Griffin said.  The Druavroks were hammering the planet’s defences hard, even though they’d taken some nasty losses themselves.  But they hadn't fired on the fabbers ... that had to be a bad sign.  They wanted the fabbers for themselves.  “And keep firing!”

The station rocked again.  Griffin didn't need Hassan to tell him that the shields were badly weakened, that the next barrage would probably be enough to finish them.  He wondered, absently, if the Druavroks wanted the base intact, then dismissed the thought.  They’d get neither the base nor the fabbers, thanks to him.  He’d rigged the latter to blow if the Druavroks gained control of the system.  It wouldn't be much of a consolation to the planet’s inhabitants, who were very likely doomed, but if the Captain captured their homeworld or tore the guts out of their industry the Druavroks were screwed.  The Grand Alliance would exterminate them before they could rebuild.

“They’re closing in, Commander,” Tabitha said.  “I ...”

“It's all right,” Griffin said.  The Druavroks had lost over fifty battleships and seventy more were damaged, including four that he doubted could be repaired economically.  They wouldn't recover before it was far too late.  “You’ve done well.”

New icons flashed onto the display.  “Commander,” Hassan said.  “Two squadrons of Grand Alliance warships have just arrived!”

“Warn them to combine their forces with the other incoming ships,” Griffin snapped.  They hadn't drilled for an attack on Martina, let alone organised a command network.  “The Druavroks are too powerful for them to handle alone!”

“The Druavroks are altering course,” Tabitha said.  “They’re heading away from the planet.”

“More friendly squadrons have just arrived,” Hassan said.  “They’re closing to missile range ...”

The Druavroks must have expended most of their missiles
, Griffin thought.  He keyed the console, trying to run a projection.  It was hard to be sure, but Battle Comp thought the Druavroks had expended at least eighty percent of their missiles. 
They know they’re at a major disadvantage.

“Alliance ships have opened fire,” Hassan reported.  “Their missiles are human-grade.”

God bless you, Captain
, Griffin thought.  The Druavroks had prepared for worse, according to the records, but their point defence network had already taken a beating.  He was surprised they hadn’t decided to beat a hasty retreat. 
And if they stay here for more than a few minutes ...

He watched with grim satisfaction as the Grand Alliance ships closed in, firing barrage after barrage of missiles.  The answering fire was slack, almost as if the Druavroks were badly stunned by the sudden shift in their fortunes.  Maybe they were ... they’d been on the verge of taking the system, only to be defeated by the sudden arrival of a whole new fleet.  And to see so many races cooperating to put an end to them ... it had to be a shock.

“Enemy ships are taking heavy damage,” Hassan said.  “I think their command network has come apart completely.”

Griffin nodded in agreement.  Each of the Druavrok ships was fighting its own battle, rather than coordinating with its fellows.  It wasn't anything like enough to preserve them from the wave of missiles, each one sniffing out weaknesses in the point defence network and ripping them open to slam against their shields.  One by one, the enemy ships died, a handful making their escape into FTL before it was too late.  The remainder were systematically destroyed.

“That’s the last of their ships, sir,” Hassan said.  He looked up, smiling coldly.  “I think we won.”

“I think so too,” Griffin said, feeling tired.  The battle had been savage, but surprisingly brief; the Grand Alliance, it was clear, had been a success after all.  “Contact the fleet, ask them to assume position in high orbit.  Then see what we can salvage from the remains of the defences.”

“Aye, sir,” Hassan said.  “Do you want me to bring back the engineers?”

“Yes,” Griffin said.  He studied the display, taking in the clouds of debris where the planetary defences had been.  Thankfully, the fabbers were still intact.  “We’re going to need them.”

And let’s hope that the Captain meets with success
, he thought.  He wanted - he needed - to tell her she’d been right.  The Grand Alliance had saved Martina and taken a stand against the Druavroks. 
If she does, we might just be able to put an end to this war
.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The killer of Barbara Bosworth appeared in Texas today to claim the reward for assassinating a person on the ‘enemies’ list.  It is too early to tell if the reward will be forthcoming, but it is impossible to deny that the assassination has had a cooling effect on media-government relations.  A number of reporters known for parroting the federal line, also mentioned on the list, have taken the opportunity to seek safety in Canada or the Solar Union.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

“We’re entering detection range, Captain,” Biscoe reported.

“Understood,” Hoshiko said.  Three weeks in FTL had done nothing to calm her fears, although the die had been cast the moment she’d made the decision to head to Druavrok Prime rather than move to defend Martina.  “Bring the fleet to condition one, then standby.”

She leaned back in her command chair, pushing her doubts out of her mind.  The latest set of reports from her raiders had insisted that Druavrok Prime was heavily defended, although it wasn't clear just how many starships they had to back up the fixed defences.  Surely, putting together such a large fleet to hit Martina must have forced them to draw ships from the rear, although there was no way to be sure.  Galactic construction rates were far lower than humanity’s, but the Druavroks had been in space for longer.  They might have built far more battleships than she wanted to believe.

“Ten minutes, Captain,” Biscoe said.

“Take us out of FTL at the planned emergence point,” Hoshiko ordered.  She would have preferred to drop out some distance from the planet, just so she could take a gander at what was waiting for her before it was too late to avoid a confrontation, but it was important to give the impression of inevitability.  “And then take us straight towards the planet.”

“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.

Hoshiko nodded to herself, then glanced at the datanet status.  The fleet had been reorganised, in the wake of their previous battle; she’d promoted several alien officers and given them command of mixed-race battlegroups.  Thankfully, the urgent need to keep the Grand Alliance together had prevented any interracial bickering, although the pessimistic side of her suspected it was just a matter of time.  There were old hatreds in the sector that had been in existence long before Christopher Columbus discovered America.

And that’s why the Solar Union must not become involved on Earth
, she thought, as the final seconds ticked down to zero. 
We must look to the future, not to the past
.

She braced herself as the fleet dropped out of FTL and the display began to fill with red icons, hundreds surrounding the planet alone.  The raiders hadn't exaggerated, she noted numbly; there were twenty-four battlestations orbiting the planet, protecting forty-seven fabbers and over a hundred smaller industrial nodes.  It was odd to see a full-fledged
shipyard
orbiting a planet, but the Druavroks had five Galactic-standard shipbuilding facilities hanging over their homeworld.  She couldn't help wondering why they’d taken the risk of allowing so many giant structures in orbit.  A single accident could cause a global disaster.

They must be confident they can break up a falling piece of debris
, she told herself, as newer icons flashed into existence. 
But even that will leave tons of space dust in their atmosphere
.

“Captain,” Biscoe said.  “The enemy fleet is advancing on our position.”

Hoshiko nodded as the enemy icons separated, a third leaving orbit and advancing towards the human ships.  It was an impressive fleet, she had to admit; fifty battleships, a hundred smaller warships ... and countless freighters, shuttles and other small craft.  The latter, she suspected, were planning to ram her ships, rather than fire weapons they might not be carrying.  She just hoped the Druavroks hadn't had time to cram antimatter into their hulls before her fleet arrived.

“Deploy the fleet into pattern alpha,” she ordered.  “And standby to open fire.”

She took a breath.  “Principle targets are the battleships,” she added.  “But watch the smaller craft.  They’re almost certainly kamikazes.”

“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.

“Fire on my command,” Hoshiko said.

***

It was very quiet in the Great Hall.

The nine Great Lords of the Druavroks watched the display, silently reeling at the sight before them.  Prey did not take the offensive, ever; prey did not seek to hunt down the predators and invade their lair.  There were prey that were easy to take and prey that could be dangerous, even to a fully-armed predator, but no prey that actually chased the predator or moved in for the kill.  It was impossible.  It simply didn’t happen, unless ...

A sense of unease ran through the hall, carried by scent.  One race
had
attacked the Druavroks, one race had invaded their system and hammered them so badly that they had forever lost the title of
prey
.  Now, another race had invaded their system ... no,
many
races, with many ships.  The Great Lords couldn't believe just how badly the timing had worked out.  They’d sent a fleet to take Martina and cleanse it of the unworthy prey, only to see a fleet appear in their own skies.  How had things gone so badly?

None of them dared speak, yet.  None of them dared suggest that perhaps they had been wrong all along, that perhaps the universe was divided into more categories than
predators
and
prey
.  But the unspoken thought lingered on the air.  The invaders had brought more than enough firepower to smash the orbital defences, claim the high orbitals and rain down fire on the homeworld itself.  A chill ran through the room as the implications, still unspoken, danced through their heads.  They had imposed the merciless logic of predators and prey on every other race, ever since the gods had departed.  What mercy could they expect from prey who had become predators? 

“The fleet is about to engage,” a voice said.  “The prey will be driven from our system.”

Silently, the Great Lords hoped the speaker was right.

***

“The enemy is opening fire,” Biscoe reported.  “Their freighters are also launching missiles.”

Hoshiko smiled, inwardly. 
She’d
turned freighters into warships because there hadn't been any other choice, but she’d known their weaknesses right from the start.  The Druavroks wouldn't have done the same unless they too had no choice.  They had to have reached the end of the fleet they’d built up over the years. 
And
, she noted, they hadn't managed to cram half as many missiles into freighter hulls as
her
crews.

No doubt they would have worked their way through the problem eventually
, she thought, grimly. 
It isn't quite as difficult as building an FTL generator
.

“Return fire,” she ordered.  “And then order our freighters to slip back into FTL and head to the RV point for reloading.”

She watched, dispassionately, as her ships returned fire, launching a colossal salvo towards the enemy ships.  Her tactical crews had pulled out all the stops, up to and including near-AI missile warheads to provide real-time targeting updates.  The Druavroks were in for a very nasty surprise, she noted, as her missiles bunched up into assault formation and homed in on their targets.  She’d fired enough missiles to smash each battleship twice over, unless ...

“The enemy freighters are moving to block our missiles,” Biscoe reported.  “And their small craft are gunning their engines, advancing on our position.”

“Alert the point defence crews,” Hoshiko ordered, as the enemy missiles swept down on her fleet.  “But their missiles have priority.”

“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.

Hoshiko gritted her teeth as the enemy missiles charged right into the teeth of her formation, despite the best efforts of her crews.  Thousands died, but hundreds survived long enough to slam into their targets and detonate.  Icons blinked once on the display and vanished, marking the loss of a dozen ships, while others stumbled out of formation, bleeding plasma and atmosphere from gaping wounds.  She felt a stab of pain as
Spruance
died, while
Nimitz
took heavy damage ... two more cruisers lost in her war.  Their crews had deserved better than to die so far from home.

And then the small craft raged down on her formation.  They
were
rammers, she realised, as one slammed into an alien battlecruiser.  The enemy
hadn't
had time to load the ships with antimatter, she noted in relief, but they still did immense damage as they struck their targets and battered down their shields.  The second wave of enemy missiles followed them, poking through holes in her point defence network and completing the destruction of nine more ships.  She cursed under her breath as
Nimitz
, already crippled, followed
Spruance
into the netherworld.  The only consolation was that some of the crew had managed to get to the lifepods before the cruiser was blown apart.

“They’re targeting the second wave on our cruisers, Captain,” Biscoe reported.

“Bunch up the point defence ships,” Hoshiko ordered.  Losing her remaining cruisers would be disastrous, particularly if the Grand Alliance still won the battle.  “And continue firing.”

She turned her attention to the Druavroks as her second salvo slammed home.  The enemy fleet had already taken heavy losses, but the second salvo was lethal.  One by one, the remaining enemy battleships were blown out of space with all hands.  She silently saluted their bravery as they stood and fought, even though it was a dangerous mistake.  They should have fallen back on the planet and linked their point defence into the planet’s own defence network.

But that would have had our missiles slamming into their fabbers
, she thought.  It wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility that the Grand Alliance would lose the battle, yet inflict enough damage on the enemy that their ultimate victory would be assured. 
They have good reason to want to keep the battle as far from their homeworld as possible
.

“The enemy fleet has been destroyed,” Biscoe said, formally.  “They do not appear to have even a
single
wave of small craft left.”

“Lock missiles on the battlestations, then launch them on ballistic trajectories,” Hoshiko ordered.  She’d never have dared to take such liberties against a mobile fleet, but the battlestations couldn't dodge her fire.  “Reconfigure the fleet.  Any starships that have been disabled are to return to the RV point, if possible; the remainder is to form up and continue the advance.”

“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.  “Our original fire groups have been quite badly disrupted.”

“We’ll just have to muddle through,” Hoshiko said, tartly.  She understood his concern - she would have preferred to delay matters until she could reorganise her formation properly too - but there was no time.  The only way to win was to convince the Druavroks that they were doomed.  “Continue firing.”

She leaned back in her command chair and watched the missiles as they streamed from her ships.  Ballistic trajectories were slow, but they had the great advantage of being undetectable until the missiles went active, allowing her to hit the battlestations from well outside their own range.  They
could
launch missiles on ballistic trajectories themselves, if they wished, yet it would be easy for her to avoid them.  She ordered the launch of another shell of recon drones, just in case the Druavroks
did
copy her, then settled down to wait.  If everything went according to plan, the battlestations would be obliterated long before her fleet entered firing range.

And if that doesn't convince them to surrender
, she thought,
we can start hitting their planetary defence centres from orbit
.

***

The scent of fear deepened as the enemy missiles started hammering the orbital battlestations, destroying them one by one.  Some of the battlestations were attempting to return fire, but they were just spitting into the wind.  The Great Lords watched in growing horror as, one by one, the battlestations died, debris scattering in all directions.  A handful of chunks even started to fall towards the planetary surface, only to be blown apart by fire from the heavy PDCs.  But that, the Great Lords noted, only ensured the enemy would know
precisely
where to target their fire, when they finally entered orbit.