Badger (42 page)

As one, all four destroyers climbed up into the wake of the Oduran flagship. Jacob felt as if he could hear the DE sails on
Wolfhound
straining as they accelerated, but he knew it was an illusion. The pressure that pushed him back in his seat, and the tension that dominated the bridge were real, however, and he felt it thicken as the ships drew near their target.

The rest of the chasing element had not followed suit.
Richard
turned back to join the main battle line; Captain Carson obviously hoped his battered cruiser might make a difference for the rest of the main force. The frigates and corvettes had chosen a different route, splitting off to chase after the ships assaulting the
Badger
. Jacob hoped their greater acceleration might mean they would come to the crippled flagship’s rescue.

More reports were coming in of casualties and losses as the battle continued to rage. It was hard not to hear the fear and uncertainty in the voices of the people using the communications network.
Seat
’s communications had gone down under the beating, taking Admiral Lien out of contact. The next in command, Admiral Billings of the
Sword
, had been killed by a direct hit on the dreadnaught’s bridge. A signal went out from
Rifle
when Admiral Ochoa took command, and Jacob wondered how long her ship would last under the unrelenting Oduran assault.

The escorts had virtually no warning. They had been sitting placidly at the rear of the battle, and Jacob imagined they had directed their attention at the struggle between the main battle lines. That decision would prove their undoing, as none of those ships had even begun evasive maneuvers when they fell into engagement range.

Wolfhound
’s gun decks opened fire first, followed shortly by the guns on
Beagle
and
Feist
. As the shells sped toward their targets,
Setter
launched projectiles, sending two torpedoes toward its chosen target and three missiles toward dreadnaught.
Feist
, by comparison, was wavering back and forth between courses, as if Commander Kenning couldn’t decide which would offer the better—and perhaps safer—attack.

Kenning still had not made up his mind by the time the shells hit. Heavy railgun shots tore into one of the frigates, and a half a heartbeat later the ship next to it was hit by the shots thrown out by
Beagle
’s high-speed railguns. Explosions tore both craft apart. The flanking craft fared little better; neither managed to do more than accelerate before the projectiles
Setter
and
Feist
had launched tore through their defenses and set them adrift as burning wrecks.

Those blows paled beside the carnage that followed.
Setter
’s missiles wove through frantic beams of plasma and ignored the last minute decoy flares that shot out from the dreadnaught’s underside. Two of the three missiles made it through; they were more than enough to turn the DE sails of the dreadnaught into a tangled ruin. Crippled, the dreadnaught continued to drift forward, unable to maneuver.

Jacob let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and watched the dreadnaught attempt to fire on its more agile opponents.
Beagle
and
Wolfhound
had shot past the dreadnaught for the relative safety ahead of the enemy flagship. Despite the enemy’s formidable armament, their guns were placed to fire to the sides or at targets directly above or below the behemoth, not ahead of her.
Setter
stayed safely to the dreadnaught’s stern, protected by the carnage of Flint’s first missile volley, as well as the dreadnaught’s similar weakness to attacks from behind. His squadron had a chance to survive.

Then Jacob cursed when he realized where
Feist
was now positioned. Kenning had chosen to twist and dive away from the dreadnaught at a sharp angle, likely hoping he could accomplish his objective and then avoid any further engagement with the enemy flagship. The rearmost gun mounts had been mauled by
Feist
’s lances, but as the flagship slowed, its other banks of railguns along the starboard side twisted around to come to bear on
Feist
’s retreating form. A storm of railgun shells sped after the destroyer, closing rapidly in spite of the
Feist
’s speed.

As
Wolfhound
and
Beagle
turned to face the dreadnaught’s bow, Jacob tore his gaze away to look at the rest of the battle. What he saw horrified him.
Rifle
was little more than a wreck, which meant Admiral Ochoa was now either dead or unable to command. Admiral Warner on the
Star
should have taken command after him, but
Star
was on fire and drifting clear of the battle line. The movements of the Celostian ships were confused, and the Odurans continued to hammer more cruisers apart as he watched.

Jacob shook himself and jerked his gaze back to his own struggle. “Al-shira, bring us around to strafe the starboard batteries. Take out their railguns. We have to get them off the
Feist!
”

As Jacob’s own ship twisted around to dive at the dreadnaught, both
Beagle
and
Wolfhound
opened fire again. This time their gunners targeted the railgun mounts of the dreadnaught’s main batteries. Defense turrets picked off half the shots, and the thick armor of the dreadnaught shrugged off all but a few more, but at least a handful of railgun mounts exploded under their fire.

The fire directed at
Feist
lessened, but it was too little too late. Railgun shells pierced the defenses despite all Laurie could do and riddled the destroyer’s DE sails with explosions. By the time
Feist
had staggered free of the bombardment, her sail rigs were little more than twisted wreckage.
Feist
’s entire aft was ablaze with secondary explosions, and it continued along the course Kenning had set for it. Jacob could only hope the destroyer would manage to continue away from the rest of the engagement, because it would have no chance to maneuver or avoid any other shots directed toward it.

Then again, neither would the Oduran flagship anytime soon. Without their DE sails, the enemy flagship was unable to keep up with the main battle line. The other Oduran dreadnaughts started to slow in order to continue defending the crippled ship, but that wasn’t going to help the flagship escape. Jacob spared a glance for the rest of the fleet, and discovered he hadn’t just slowed their line. First frigates and corvettes, then cruisers and destroyers began to pull back and head for their beleaguered flagship. Some of the dreadnaughts even started to turn back toward the flagship, sending their formation into disarray.

The Celostian ships did not waste the opportunity their foes had given them, and opened fire on the Odurans. Railgun fire tore through the lighter units of the like a scythe through wheat. DE sails were blown apart, bridges were cratered and chaos spread across the Oduran lines. What had once been an organized effort to relieve the flagship was starting to become a rout as the Navy took its revenge.

The Odurans paused, caught between the orders Gates had to be sending to save him and their own sense of self-preservation. Their hesitation must have been terrifying for the crew of the flagship. As if sensing their vulnerability, the gun crews unleashed another frantic barrage at Jacob’s remaining ships as the crippled dreadnaught continued to drift forward, unable to maneuver. Missiles belched from the launchers along the dreadnaught’s sides, which were quickly targeted and neutralized by flechettes from the squadron.

An explosion rocked the
Wolfhound
when a shell made it through the point defense, then another. Jacob gripped the armrests of his chair as the bridge rocked under the bombardment. “All ships, continue firing! We need to cripple the guns at the very least, keep them from tearing
Feist
apart!”

Beagle
responded almost immediately. Jacob’s eyes grew wide as red splotches began to mark heat damage on the gun banks. Isaac was pushing his railguns too hard, and they were running the risk of melting completely, but Jacob could hardly argue with the result. More shots tore at the gun banks of the dreadnaught, and more of the enemy warship’s guns fell silent.
Wolfhound
’s shots reached the dreadnaught a moment later, pounding at the armor on the enemy’s stern. Explosions tore at the armor, ruining more of the plates protecting the flagship’s hull.
Setter
sent missiles and torpedoes screaming in as well, putting holes in the dreadnaught’s thick armor and wiping away railguns, missile launchers, and point defense turrets.

Another hit shook
Wolfhound
, and Jacob looked down to find damage spreading across the ventral decks. He glanced at Al-shira. She caught his eyes and nodded. “We can keep it up sir, but I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to get lucky.”

He nodded and returned his attention to the displays.
Beagle
’s guns were near meltdown, and
Setter
was starting to take more than her fair share of fire as the Odurans focused on the source of the squadron’s missiles. Some cold, calculating part of Jacob’s mind catalogued the damage and was satisfied at the proof of the benefits of his armor modifications.

The rest reeled a moment later when a report scrawled across his display. An agonized groan tore from his throat as he shifted his display to where the
Feist
was drifting. Or rather, to where it
had
been drifting. Unable to target the other destroyers around them easily, the crew of the dreadnaught had decided to use at least some of them to kill the destroyer below them. Railgun fire from the dreadnaughts gun decks had targeted at
Feist
in a nearly unending stream of shells. Jacob watched, helpless, as hit after hit rocked the destroyer, until finally, he heard Commander Kenning’s voice over the squadron frequency. “This is the
Feist
! We are abandoning ship! Repeat, we are abandoning ship!”

Lifeboats sprayed from the destroyer, but railguns continued to pour in. Streams of plasma picked some off, and the remaining armor stopped a few more, but the rest plowed through
Feist
’s hull. In horror, Jacob realized Laurie had to still be at her controls, protecting the ship, and there would be no way she could get off the
Feist
in time.

His realization was proven horribly true a moment later when
Feist
’s reactor sprayed a fountain of plasma up through the dorsal decks of the destroyer. All visible signs of power, from running lights to plasma turrets, died immediately. More railgun shots broke the destroyer’s back, and the entire ship was quickly reduced to a shattered corpse—along with whoever had remained aboard her.

Jacob, half-blinded by tears, brought his fist down on the armrest. The bridge, in spite of the hits that still shook the ship, was deathly silent. Jacob blinked his eyes to clear them and then spoke. “Commander, change course to cross over their topside. I want to hit their bridge if we can.”

“Yes, sir.” Al-shira’s quiet response returned some noise to the bridge, but it was only a quiet murmur compared to the sounds that had preceded
Feist
’s death. The
Beagle
’s railguns had fallen silent as well, unable to continue firing after Isaac had run them to the limit. Jacob could picture his friend, helpless and grieving as he waited for the guns to cool, and a fresh stab of pain went through him. He locked his eyes on the image of the flagship as it drew closer, and punched the button to transmit.

“Squadron,
Wolfhound
will approach the dreadnaught and strafe her bridge. I want
Beagle
to join
Setter
behind the enemy ship until her guns are ready to fire.
Setter
, stay by
Beagle
and prepare another missile salvo for the enemy flagship.”

The other ship captains complied, settling their ships into position with ease while
Wolfhound
made a broad turn to dive at the dreadnaught again. The Odurans continued to fire on the others with their rear batteries, but the two destroyers were making themselves difficult targets. Meanwhile, the rest of the turrets were slowly turning to point in
Wolfhound
’s direction. Jacob had a thin hope he would be able to hit the bridge of the ship hard enough to cause some damage, but he would only get one pass; a second one would get his ship destroyed. The problem was that a single pass had little chance of breaking through their armor, let alone destroying their ship.

Then an idea occurred to him, and he turned to Al-shira. “Naomi—Commander Al-shira—we’re in range of the other dreadnaughts’ missile launchers, right?”

Al-shira tilted her head, her eyes considering the question. Her expression grew grim and she spoke low enough the others wouldn’t hear. “Yes, sir. If they fire, no matter how we maneuver or use our flechettes, they’re going to be able to get us.”

“I know. Unless we give them a better target.” He gestured to the Oduran dreadnaught, and she blinked. Jacob continued. “I need us to take out their communications and then be in position to scrape by the dreadnaught as close as possible. Al-shira, can you get us there?”

“You know I can,
captain
.” She turned to her Helm officer. “Make it happen.”

The
Wolfhound
accelerated, entering a storm of railgun fire as the Odurans targeted his ship with more and more railguns. Fortunately, the Helm was taking them out along the dreadnaught’s starboard flank, so the bulk of the enemy ship shielded their approach from the still-intact railguns along the dreadnaught’s port side. Range to target dropped fast, and then the
Wolfhound
turned to slide under the dreadnaught’s belly.

They skimmed past the dreadnaught, and the
Wolfhound
’s railguns opened fire. A tall, spindly tower that extended along the underside of the dreadnaught snapped apart as railgun shells streaked past the point defense turrets. Reverend Gates’ communications with the rest of his fleet was suddenly gone.