Auberon (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 1) (20 page)

All the usual faces were ghosts around the edge of her command table, comfortable in their own chairs on their own bridges.

“So, people,” she began, “normally we drop out of Jumpspace fairly close, and then hit them quickly. Today, we landed as far out as we could scan, and clear at the top of the system, rather than below or on the ecliptic. I was reminded recently of the need to be unpredictable.” She smiled at what
Jouster
had done for her, even accidentally.

It felt strange, both owing that man good favor, and smiling all by itself.

“I wanted time to see what we were getting ourselves into, since they’ve already seen us once.”

She paused to sip her coffee. Others hit their own mugs.

“Giroux, you’ve had thirty minutes to listen to signals traffic. What do we know?”

She was caught by surprise when the man actually looked up from his panels and gauges and made solid eye contact with her projection. He did it so rarely. He dialed up the scale of the projection.

“Sir, you really need to see this,” he said, centering the image on a blue dot orbiting
Ao–Shun
closely.

Jessica read the transponder display next to the signal, twice.

“Confirmed?” she said softly.

“Aye, sir,” Giroux smiled at her. “She is the
St. Albertus Magnus
, a hospital and research ship from the
Independent Cantons of Wilankadu
.”

They shared the smile for a moment until the others began to grow restless.

“So,” Jessica said, “they’ve brought in a medical research ship to uncover what we’ve done. People, we’ve just doubled the cost the Empire is paying to maintain their forces along this frontier, although the ship itself represents a problem.”

“No, sir, an opportunity,” the Flag Centurion spoke up suddenly from across the table. He was practically vibrating with energy.

“Go on, Enej.”

“Aye, sir,” the young man said. “The ship in question flies mercy missions for plagues, disasters, that sort of thing, right? Usually under private and very expensive contract to whoever needs them to come in, sometimes as a charity. It is still a very expensive ship to operate.”

“Correct, Centurion,” d’Maine said from the bridge of
Rajput
. His scowl might have been used to polish granite. “She is also a neutral vessel. Anything we do to her will reflect very poorly on us at our later court martials. You blow her up and you might as well hang yourself and save the Admiralty the trouble, lad.”

“Yes,” Enej agreed, “but she happens to be working in an active war zone, probably under contract right now, directly for the Emperor. That means she’s not a neutral. We could capture her under the formal Rules Of War and ransom her back to
Wilankadu
later, maybe for a single
Lev
, maybe for the value of her hull. And maybe, just maybe, for a pirate’s ransom.”

Jessica watched the shark smiles grow around her. Her people were finally beginning to think like pirates.

“Enej, it sounds like you have some ideas for how to handle it. We’ll talk off–line, but you’ll be in charge of capturing
St. Albertus Magnus
while the rest of us go to work on the defenders.”

Jež cleared his throat at that. “Sir, are you sure it is a wise idea to adopt this particular formation?”

“Meaning, am I insane for putting
Auberon
on point, the whole Flight Wing on one flank, and
Rajput
and
CR–264
on the other?”

“Your words, sir,” Denis agreed with her, “but essentially yes. Are you nuts?”

She smiled. Six months ago, he would have simply nodded and figured out how to execute her orders. Now he was trying to anticipate her and have his own contingencies in place.

She could leave the ship to him and command just the squadron for the first time.

It felt good.

She took a moment to let her smile encompass all of them. “
Auberon
was built on a Heavy Cruiser hull, people. We don’t have all the firepower of a Heavy Cruiser, but they don’t have anything over there heavy enough to fight us toe–to–toe. If they divide three ways to engage us, we annihilate them. Not just defeat them. Annihilate them.”

She took another sip of coffee and let that sink in.

They were a main–line combat squadron, keyed up and trained, taking on country militias, with surprise on their side. As long as the odds stayed in their favor, they just had to be careful and hit with sledgehammers instead of snowballs. Most of the time.

Ao–Shun
had required a snowball the first time. What was coming next would be even worse. Meaner at least. Something like kicking puppies.

“So I expect them to have to decide who to go after, an up–gunned Flight Wing with a Gunship in the middle, a Heavy Destroyer with a Fleet Escort riding shotgun, or a Strike Carrier.”

“They’ll go for you,” d’Maine said, “biggest and most important ship. Best return on their investment.”

Jessica smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter XXXIII

Date of the Republic March 17, 393 2218 Svati Prime system

The launch tube was a dark, forbidding place. It felt cold, but that was purely psychological.

Jouster
sat in his cockpit and listened to the comm traffic.
Southbound
had taken command in his absence, and was doing a competent job. Far less flashy than he would have done.
But wasn’t that the point? He would sit here and do his job and convince the Dragon Lady on the bridge that he was fit to fly. Growing up sucked, but sometimes it had to be done.

Everything out there looked pretty on the scanner.

The four M–5
Harpoon
fighters rode escort for the two Saturation bombers,
Damocles
and
Starfall
, with the big Gunship,
Necromancer
holding station just below them.
da Vinci
rode above and behind, like the stinger on a scorpion.

It was a formation he had originated and perfected.

And he wasn’t there with them. There was nothing else to do but watch them on the scanner and let them do the fighting.

Now he understood how
da Vinci
felt. All Ainsley had to do in battle was watch the screen and keep the bad guys from sneaking up on them.
When was the last time she had actually fired her guns?

Below, it was just like the tactical simulator had predicted. The station they had gutted last time was repaired and operational again, probably at a stupidly great cost.

The pilots over there were much faster off the block than last time, as well. And, instead of the normal twelve fighters that made up an Imperial squadron, he watched sixteen signals emerge from the station.

Nobody seemed to be paying attention. And she hadn’t ordered him to be silent. Maybe it was time to act like a Flight Leader.

“
da Vinci
, this is
Jouster
,” he said, trying to maintain a bored tone to his voice for everyone else listening. He felt like he was being graded by the Dragon Lady every time he spoke. He probably was.

“Go ahead,
Jouster
,” she said after a moment, probably of surprise.

“
da Vinci
, take a really hard look at those last four signals, the group that is at the back of the diamond formation. Imperials don’t break squadrons of fighters up, ever. Live together, train together, fight together.” He took a breath, fighting the urge to look backwards over his shoulder to see if Keller was standing there. “I’m guessing they brought something heavier to the dance and don’t want us to realize it until they get close.”

“Roger that,
Jouster
,” she said. “Stand by.”

Jouster
let out a breath. Nobody had said anything sarcastic or rude.

“Squadron, this is
da Vinci
,” Ainsley announced over the general push. “Credit
Jouster
with the catch. Enemy fighters consist of a standard squadron of A–7b fighters, escorting a quad of A–3f strike fighters. Expect a lot of missiles in your immediate future. All craft, make sure your counter–measures are armed.”

“
da Vinci
, this is
Auberon
,” he heard
her
voice over the comm. Keller really had gotten into his head. He flinched, waiting for the next words. “Acknowledged. Good eyes,
Jouster
. Thank you.”

Wow. Really? Credit? But I’m just sitting here in the forward launch bay, twiddling my thumbs.

Another voice sounded in his head. The woman who had been his original flight instructor, once upon a time. Back when he was a punk. A bigger punk.

Yeah, Pavlovic, she said, but instead of sulking, you found something useful to do. Something that will keep your teammates alive.

Oh.

He went back to the scanner and rotated it 150 degrees to see what things looked like to someone standing on the surface of the planet.
What else could he find?

Ξ

Jessica nodded. Wachturm had justified her paranoia, once again.

That man, that Admiral, that tactical genius was damned good. Mixing up fighters and strike craft, and having them all act alike until they got on top of someone, that was a recipe for disaster for her. But only if she was unprepared.

Hopefully this would work.

She watched the projection in the big tank.
Rajput
and
CR–264
coming in softly on the right flank. Out front, but not far out front. Enough to make you pick your poison. The whole Flight Wing, minus
Jouster
, flying hard and aggressive on the left flank.

Right now, her fear was that the defenders would go after the ships on her right. If they went at the fighters, it would be roughly even for firepower, plus all the surprises she could bring to bear with
Auberon
. But that many defenders could swarm
Rajput
and
CR–264
and do crippling damage before the two ships could be extricated.

“Flag Centurion,” she said, “status on the Imperial squadron?”

She waited as he continued to study his screen. “So far, sir, they are still tracking on us. Sixty seconds to the point of no return.”

“Anybody else threatening us?” she asked, mentally counting down the seconds.

“Negative, per the Science Officer,” came the reply. “Giroux says the station is being very quiet. Most of the traffic in the system is staying put instead of trying to run from us, this time.”

“That’s good,” Jessica observed. “They learned to stay close on the expectation that we aren’t staying around. We should do something about that.”

“Sir?”

“Next time, Enej. We’ll stay on plan today.”

“Roger that. Imperial fighters have passed the way point. If they try to turn now, they’ll miss everything.”

“Roger that, Enej. Tell Jež to alert
Jouster
and Tamara. I expect all hell to break loose shortly.”

“They confirm ready status already, commander,” he said.

“Ahead of me?”

“On plan, sir.”

“Good.” She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Marcelle, could you bring me some fresh coffee, please. They seem to have things under control here.”

“Aye, sir,” The woman unbuckled and rose with a smirk on her face. At least some things never changed.

It was nice not having to share Marcelle with the rest of the crew.

Jessica watched the projection for perhaps ten seconds when the center flashed bright and lights in the room turned red. A mournful horn played softly in the background, in case anybody was not paying attention.

Time for war.

She watched Jež’s face on the projection, even though he wasn’t paying attention to her.

“Flight Deck,” he said firmly. “Enemy squadron has fired everything they have at us. Crash launch
Jouster
. Break. All guns except primaries to defensive fire until otherwise ordered. Tactical Officer has command. Damage control parties stand by.”

Ξ

Jouster
always got a rush from the acceleration pushing him back into his seat. The launch rails literally flung you clear of the ship like an arrow, away and slightly down to clear the bow of the ship in case you had to maneuver. Normally, he redlined things from there, the faster to get to the bad guys.

Today, he held his throttle medium, left the yoke centered, and focused on his scan board. He felt like a small dog on a short leash. Probably looked like one, too.

They had launched missiles earlier than he had expected, but almost to the second when Keller’s simulation had predicted. It was kind of eerie.

The wall of missiles coming at him was absolutely frightening to consider.

Someone over there was just plain paranoid. Twelve melee fighters, each firing two missiles. Except two had failed, so twenty–two missiles inbound. Plus four strike fighters that had each fired six more as fast as they could separate. And each of those had launched cleanly, so twenty–four more.

Jouster
considered forty–six missiles incoming and did the math in his head. That was enough firepower to blow a couple of Republic dreadnaughts into space kibble, let alone one Strike Carrier. He sure hoped she knew what she was doing. This was cutting it awful damned close.

His targeting computer beeped. Not like it needed much of a firing solution for what was about to happen, but it was still nice that the locks were solid.

He thumbed the launch button and felt his craft shudder under the jolt as both missiles jumped away from him.

As he watched his scanners, the two missiles each opened like flowers, shedding their warhead casings to reveal internal arrays of micro–missiles. He hated the
Shot
missiles. Any single one of those sub–missiles was enough to cripple a fighter like his in melee and they were a pain to kill. They were, however, medicine for what evil ailed him today.