Author's Preface
If you truly want to scare a Shraphen engineer, just mention you fixed the fusion core MacGyver-style.
Be prepared; you might need spaghetti Bolognese to calm the poor guy down.
— Author unknown, On the Cultural Impact of Reckless Human Engineering , 248 P.I.
The missiles left their tubes, and Botha could feel the whole ship shake under the recoil of the PDGs.
Lieutenant Commander Lindqvist checked the trajectory on the tactical monitor.
“ETA to target, thirty minutes. We’re on target.”
Perfect. Right when the Forbin would meet the Texas , the Argos would have her own little surprise. The missiles would spend most of their fuel while still in Jupiter’s shadow and then switch off their drives. Nothing would warn the Argos and the Mecklenburg .
“Captain, Argos and Mecklenburg are accelerating. They’re leaving orbit.”
“What? Why?”
“Unknown, Sir.”
Browner, the old bastard, must have seen something. Hitting them now with PDGs was impossible; only missiles could change course enough to still strike.
“Calculate another volley, all missiles. Order the Persepolis to interlock with our fire, and coordinate arrival times to be synchronous. We need to overwhelm their PDGs in one fatal alpha strike.”
“Understood, Sir. Targets still Mecklenburg and Argos ?”
Botha thought about it for a second. The Mecklenburg was an older destroyer and could severely damage his ships, but her hull plating was simply not up to Argos standards. While he knew he could hit the Argos multiple times without destroying her, the Mecklenburg might be killed with just a few direct hits. And three hundred personnel with her.
“No, only the Argos .”
“Sir?”
“I don’t want to destroy the Mecklenburg by accident.”
Lieutenant Commander Lindqvist shifted in his seat. Botha knew he wasn’t happy about the decision.
You didn’t attend the academy with the people on those ships.
The Terran Defense Force had to ramp up its recruiting programs at the beginning of hostilities.
Many, like Lindqvist, came from private shipping companies or the terrestrial navies and air forces.
They weren’t shooting at their friends.
“Problems?”
Lindqvist turned around. “No, Sir, it’s just… unconventional.”
“It sure is, but two weeks ago I was serving next to those men and women, and in six weeks we will hold the line against the Batract next to those people out there. If it is up to me, we will kill as few as we can in the meantime.”
“Understood, Sir. Let’s just hope they think the same way.”
Lieutenant Fourie, who had watched the exchange silently, now turned.
“Time until we leave Jupiter’s shadow: eleven minutes.”
The timing had initially been planned to be too short for the Argos to move significantly out of orbit. Even though the ship was fast and maneuverable compared to most alien ships, she was slow and cumbersome compared to the Helios .
Now that the Argos had fought her way out of orbit, Botha’s suprise attack was at risk.
—————
“Sir, two more ships detected, heading 050, 010. They just left Jupiter’s shadow opposite the first hostile group.”
Hostile group…
Browner knew the Texas ; he had served his first rotation on her.
“That was his plan all along. Scan for fast-moving objects. I wouldn’t be surprised if they fired from inside the shadow.”
“Scan for fast-moving objects inside Jupiter’s rings, Sir?”
He stared at the sensors officer. “Well, he won’t be shooting ice particles, Lieutenant.”
“Scanning, Sir.”
“Send out all googly eyes, especially out of the ecliptic. I want an eagle’s-eye view of the battlefield.”
“Aye, Sir.”
The Solar Sensors network would have allowed him to see every floating grain of sand, but the first accords of this… whatever the hell this conflict was… had been that neither side was allowed to access the sensor grid or fire on it.
As long as no one used the grid, no one had reason to damage it. The outer belt colonies had taken control of the network, and it was clear that if one side broke the agreement,the neutrals would choose the opposing side, giving it an instant sensor overview and resources.
Browner began to study the tactical overview.
If he hadn’t ordered them out of orbit ten minutes ago, he would do so now. If there was a volley of… hostile… fire coming at them, they would accelerate into it face-first.
A shiver ran along his neck. No matter how outdated Botha’s ships were the man was everything his personnel file had said he was.
“CIC to Bridge. Our guest might have sent us some advance greeting. Captain, bring us between them and the Mecklenburg and drop heat now. We might be fighting longer than we expected.”
Dropping heat in the form of kinetic gel was wasteful, but heat buildup was one of the most limiting factors in long fire exchanges.
And the hot gel was like a flare to heat-seeking missiles.
He took a closer look at the new group. The Persepolis and the Helios . The Helios especially was surprising. She was still in her original configuration: no rotational gravity and a weak prototype A-Drive.
Why use such outdated ships?
No hull plating to speak of and no inertial dampeners. The ASN used those ships mostly in the Homefleet reserve. They were a capable artillery platform after the refit to a larger spinal gun, but the Helios lacked even that.
“Comms, call the Helios . Ask for Captain Botha specifically.”
—————
“Sir, the Argos is calling us. They are asking for you.”
So Browner knew I wasn’t on the Texas*. That’s why he left orbit early.*
“Put him through.”
The admiral’s face appeared on screen, and Botha immediately asked himself why the man was smiling.
“Captain Botha, very clever trick you pulled off. Next time, hide the puffy face.”
He’s trying to bait me. Nice try. It might have worked with an inexperienced captain.
“Thank you. I’ll remember it for next time. I see you’re leaving orbit. Can I assume you’re giving in to our demands?”
A young cadet handed a dataslate to the admiral. Was the manpower shortage in the ASN so extreme that they put cadets on an admiral’s flagship?
“I am sorry, Captain, I can’t.” Browner read through the report, then raised an eyebrow. “Even though you sent four hundred missiles my way. Respect, Captain.”
Damn, the sensor technicians on the Argos must be magicians.
“I thought I’d show my enemies the respect they deserve. Come on, Admiral, you can’t be happy having one man in control of the whole Human race.”
“Don’t start with the junta crap, son. Am I happy? No. But we didn’t fire first. All of that”—Browner made a wide gesture with his hands—“is because Earth didn’t like not leading the system, and you know it.”
It had been a shock to learn that the attacks on Liverpool and the other archives had been carried out by the Gaian cowards, and the fact that Earth vessels really did fire the first shots was a bitter pill to swallow, but still. The ASN and the Aligned Planets had defended a de facto military dictatorship.
“They were just working from the information they had at the time. Neither of us knows how we would have acted in their place.”
Browner actually nodded.
“So you won’t back down, Captain?”
“I was just about to ask you the same, Admiral.”
Sadness. Botha could see it clear as day through the visor of the admiral’s space suit. He knew the feeling well.
“Stay safe, Captain.”
“You too, Admiral.”
The line closed.
Lindqvist turned in his seat to look at Botha, a tic the rest of the bridge crew seemed to have taken on as well.
“Sir, the Argos has opened fire at the missiles.”
“Let them. Pegasus will cross the terminator line in ten minutes. Then all this is over.”
—————
The PDG fire looked like glowing fingers reaching out into the dark, destroying missiles far away, each hit a small bloom of orange or green.
The fact that an Earth ship used Martian-built missiles with heavy copperized methane as fuel showed the irony of the conflict in glowing colors.
“Sir, Texas and California have begun firing at the Forbin . Orders?”
Botha was no idiot. Why attack the Forbin now?
“Order the Mecklenburg to fire sprint torpedoes. Let’s give the Forbin some breathing space to slowly retreat back to Europa.”
His initial instinct was to counter the attack with force; he just wasn’t sure if that was his opponent’s plan.
I hate 5D chess. If he knows that I know that he knows…
On the screens, he observed the Forbin fighting a battle he had watched play out all over the system for the last two weeks.
Giants sparring each other. The Forbin , slowly turning away from the advancing Texas and California , fired focused streams of PDG rounds at the Texas ’s PDG towers.
One after the other, the forward towers of the Texas exploded.
Simultaneously, the Texas and the California tried to pierce the Forbin ’s PDG shield with missiles, without any luck.
The Forbin was a destroyer, equipped with 32 point-defense lasers for missile defense, similar to the Argos ’s short-range defense, and another 32 PDG kinetics in 40 mm for short- to medium-range defense and offense. Combined with the long-range 56 mm PDG kinetics, she outgunned the Texas and the California together.
The Texas had already lost eight of her 40 mm guns, half of her kinetic armament. The California wasn’t much better off, with only ten guns still active.
What is your plan? You must have known we can outgun you any day of the week.
A dim glimmer on the Texas ’s hull caught Browner’s eye. Zooming in, he saw that the Texas had begun to open her hangars.
“Admiral, one new contact, identified as TDF Pegasus . She’s coming down from Jupiter’s north pole.”
Browner turned to watch the new contact. He suddenly got a bad feeling.
What was the Texas doing, opening her armored hangars?
“Multiple FTL transits registered, vectors—”
The whole ship shuddered under fire. Browner could swear he saw rounds streaking through the CIC. Through the deck plating, he felt the ship’s PDGs open fire at something he couldn’t see. Debris and an odd-looking red mist drifted through his vision as he began to float. The first volley must have hit the grav plating in the ceiling.
“Report!”
He didn’t know the voice that answered him.
“Fifteen small satellites have just transited from the Texas and the Pegasus to us. They were covered in 56 mm PDGs. Hull plating critical, multiple inner and outer hull breaches.”
“Status of the Forbin and the Mecklenburg ?”
If the Argos had almost been taken out, he could imagine how the other ships had fared.
The CIC was in total chaos. Debris and people drifted around. Browner clicked the heels of his spacesuit together to activate the magnets.
A body with a large chest wound drifted by him, the medical indicators on its arm showing the person inside was dead. Browner swallowed heavily, then pushed the body softly aside as he moved back to the tactical table.
“I said, status of the Mecklenburg and the Forbin ! People, focus!”
Another person answered. The comm identification system must have broken down as well; no name was registering.
“Undamaged. The satellites only targeted us.”
“Admiral, Captain Carmichael here. We have critical failures along the PDG network, as well as engines and life support. We can’t take another hit like that.”
Of course. Everyone in the TDF knew the layout of every ASN ship. A clinical strike that had almost taken out the already damaged Argos .
“Captain Botha is hailing us.”
Browner exhaled sharply. “Put him through. Audio only.” He didn’t want to risk giving away how badly they were damaged.
“Admiral, I’m glad you survived.”
“Not everyone was that lucky, Captain.” His mouth tasted bitter.
“And I truly regret their deaths, Admiral. So please, listen. I have a couple hundred more of those satellites stored in our hangars, and I will launch them at you and the other ships if you force me to. Please, Admiral, save what’s left of your crew and retreat.”
Browner swallowed again. Every officer in the CIC was looking at him. Some with anger in their eyes, willing to fight on. Some, like Cadet Six, with barely hidden fear.
He could fight. He wanted to fight. But what for? The whole charade had been for naught.
We underestimated the TDF, and they took the Nixtred frame and turned it into a close-quarters combat weapon.
The ASN needed to rethink its whole rulebook.
“Our engines are damaged.”
“That’s no problem, Admiral. We’ll give you time to repair them, or have the Mecklenburg tug you out. Do you need assistance?”
Most of his crew showed relief. They would fight any alien species to the death, but die fighting Humans? Fighting their friends?
“No, thank you. We will call you with an update when we’re able to retreat.”
“Take your time, Admiral.”
—————
“Captain, Admiral Jellico from TDF HQ is calling.”
Botha wasn’t in the mood. His victory tasted like ash. He had known people might get killed, but that didn’t change the guilt he felt.
“Put him on screen.”
Jellico’s round face appeared, and Botha felt the usual dislike well up again.
“Well done, Captain. Taking Europa has improved our situation considerably.”
Before Botha could answer, the admiral continued.
“But the Prime Minister wants to know why you gave the enemy time to retreat. Why didn’t you destroy, or at least board, the ships?”
Botha wanted to jump up from his seat, but the harness held him back.
“Tell the Prime Minister that if he’s unhappy with how I pulled off an impossible victory, he can climb into a dinghy, row out here and show me how to do my job. Until he moves his cowardly ass out of his bunker, I’ll operate how I like. And I’m not gonna commit a massacre. Understood, Admiral?”
Jellico raised his hands placatingly.
“I already told him that killing Humans isn’t in our interest. Calm down, Captain. I see the Persepolis is mostly undamaged?”
“Yes.” Botha was still boiling with anger.
“Good. We need you to take command of her and the Pegasus . We have a new mission for you. Have you ever heard of Shambhala?”
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