Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil (14 page)

"Yes," the
officer replied, "they launched as soon as the Primans entered the system.

"Time has
expired," Captain Vol announced.  He rarely left his command chair while
in combat, and this was going to be no exception; it showed he was calm and in
control and felt no need to run around putting out fires and riding herd on his
people.  "Begin bombardment on the target city."

"They're
opening fire," the comm officer said with forced calm.  Her family lived
in that city.

"Open a channel
to the Primans," Renner commanded, "and send the official request to
the Confeds and tell them to engage."

The officer worked
at her station for a second, then looked at Captain Renner and gestured to the
screen.

The hard face of the
Priman captain appeared on-screen.  "You speak for your people,
officer?" the Priman asked, though it seemed more like a statement.

"That'll be
hard to do, since you're destroying our cities so fast," Renner replied. 
"I don't see how you expect to hear from any civilian authority down
there, but maybe that's the point."

"You insult me
as I conquer your planet?  Is this how you beg for mercy?" 

Renner scoffed at
the man who meant to destroy everything he held dear.  "I don't plan to
beg."  He cut the channel himself with the control switch on his armrest. 
Now, all he could do was hope the carefully crafted timetable they'd laid out
would work as well as they'd hoped it would.

"Mark!"
Cory called over her comm net to her squadron.  All twelve Intruders,
accompanied by Merritt's twelve Talons, made final adjustments to their
formation, then slaved their hyperdrives to Cory's computer.  She would
initiate the microjump, every other ship's computers holding them in formation
through reversion to normal space.

She pushed her
throttles up and over the detent which allowed the hyperdrive to engage, and a split
second later the twenty-four fighters flashed forward faster than the speed of
light.

"Comms,"
Loren said as he gripped the railing that edged the upper platform where it
took a step down from the command level of the bridge.  If he'd had the spare
moment to look, he'd have seen his white knuckles holding the poor railing in a
death grip.  "Give the go order to the Prowler; send the Lightweights on
their way."

He turned to look at
Captain Montari's face in one corner of the big primary display on the forward
bulkhead, behind the 3D holo field which showed everything of interest in the
system.  "Torpedoes are away, Captain."

Montari looked
relieved.  "Good to hear, Commander.  You have your orders; good luck,
Commander, and I hope to see Avenger in good repair on the other side." 
He saluted, something captains were not often known to do.

Loren returned the
salute.  "We'll count Priman derelicts with you later," he replied.           

He watched as
Montari's face disappeared, replaced by the ten-second countdown to Avenger's
hyperspace transit.  All the Confed ships, including Cory's Intruders and the
hyperdrive-capable torpedoes, would enter from and arrive in different
locations within the Lemurian system.  On the plane of the elliptic, the
battleship Majestic would arrive on one side of the cone-shaped Priman
formation as it faced the planet.  Avenger would sneak up on the other side of
the Primans above the elliptic, mag-shield to full and ready to launch
torpedoes from minimum distance after passing the halted Stalwart class
transports.  Cobalt would jump in behnd the Priman force on their rear quarter,
while the Intruders would approach from the other rear quarter.  The
'Lightweight' torpedoes would arrive last, reverting to realspace between the
Intruders and Avenger.  That's as far as they'd be able to go before Lemuria's
gravity well collapsed the hyper field and forced them back to normal space. 
It was a complicated plan that required precise timing.  Once battle was
joined, however, it would quickly devolve into a bloody free-for-all, with the
Confed ships fighting singly until they could manage to link up.  Still, the
element of surprise and ability to hit from many different directions at the
outset was worth the risk.

Loren just hoped it
would be enough.  

Representative
Ravine watched the engagement unfold from her place to the right and behind
Captain Vol's chair.  The six Lemurian destroyers were forming a line abreast
formation and moving towards them.  Captain Vol had backed his twelve cruisers
away from the planet a bit to give himself room to maneuver; he wanted the
ability to let his formation roam and alter positions, and his new position
halfway between the planet and moon let him breathe easier.

"Do you think
they plan to try to cover the transports by engaging us?" Ravine asked the
captain.

"A valid
question," Captain Vol mused.  "I'm not sure what it would
accomplish, sacrificing six ships in an attempt to allow those transports to
escape.  True, there are eighteen of them and we're reading roughly five
thousand life signs each, but why go down in flames over those ships?  We'd
still control the planet and could operate with impunity if their destoyers
were wiped out."  Vol looked at the tactical display and tried to see what
the enemy captain might be looking at.  "I admit there is a chance that,
wasteful as it might seem, they'll attempt to hold us off to let those
transports leave.  We can't allow that."

Captain Vol turned
to his weapons officer.  "Weapons," he began, "target a spread of
the new Talaran torpedoes at those transports and hold the lock.  I might call
on you to fire on them while we engage the Lemurian destroyers."

"Yes,
Captain," the officer replied quickly.  With the largely successful Priman
pacification of the Talaran Collection, they'd collected, analyzed, and
improved the torpedo designs the Talaran navy used.  The Primans traditionally
had no expendable ordnance like torpedoes that could run out; instead, they
relied on improved long range laser batteries.  However, after dealing with the
Confederation navy and their torpedo tactics, the Primans had decided they
wanted to have their own torpedo option, and so they'd confiscated the Talaran
design.  Since their ships weren't designed to carry the torpedoes, the weapons
were carried externally on hardpoints that couldn't be reloaded during battle. 
Only a few of his ships had the weapon; his flagship was among them.

Captain Vol was
eager to try out the new arrow in his quiver.

Chapter Seven

"The enemy
destroyers are almost in range of our primary batteries," announced the
weapons officer to Captain Vol.  Vol had considered attacking with his long
range laser batteries, but considering the paltry force coming to meet him he'd
decided to get in close and obliterate them in what he hoped would be a
demoralizing demonstration for the Lemurians and whoever was next on their
target list.  It was time these beings learned to fear the Primans once again.

Captain Vol
grinned.  He opened his mouth to give the order to fire when the weapons
officer yelled.

"Captain! 
Incoming hyperspace signatures!"  The young man, excitement getting the
better of his training, faltered for a second as he savagely worked his control
panel.  "Confederation ships: a cruiser and a battleship.  Working on the
ID signatures now."

Vol was distracted
but not entirely surprised by the news.  He'd seen the sensor data of two
Confed ships leaving the system and had allowed for their possible return. 
Whether they were working with the Lemurians or on their own recognizance was
immaterial at this point.  The Confeds were still badly outnumbered.

"Based on
previous sensor logging," the weapons officer continued, "the cruiser
identifies at Cobalt and the battleship as Majestic."

Vol recognized the
battleship's name; he'd fought her before and had the scars to prove it.  With
the exception of the huge motherships, the Primans built their vessels in
numbers rather than a wide array of ship types, and they had no direct answer
for the Confed battleships.  There were designs in the works, but they were
taking too long in the development stage.  Regardless, none of that would help
him in this situation.

"We anticipated
this," Captain Vol addressed the bridge crew.  "Split up as per
Attack Formation Blue and engage."  Vol had programmed in several
contingencies to the combat computers, and this was one of them.  The Priman
formation executed a skilled turn, bringing their bows to face the incoming
Confed ships.  Two cruisers peeled off to deal with the Lemurian destroyers,
leaving Captain Vol with a full ten ships to deal with the Confederation's
two.  This was still his battle to lose.

No sooner had
Captain Vol allowed himself to relax a bit than he was hit with the next wave
of arrivals.

"Captain, more
Confederation ships!" called the weapons officer.  He was more in control
now,  but the crack in his voice as he spoke worried Vol.  Either this young
officer wasn't up to the task or he'd seen something truly troubling.

"Out with
it!" Vol commanded impatiently.  He was leaning towards having the
youngster relieved for this battle and replaced after their mission was
complete.

"Putting them
on the display," the officer stammered. 

Vol spun around to
look at the main tactical display, and was not pleased with what he saw.  From
his original position between the moon and Lemuria, Vol had turned to starboard
to face the incoming Confed cruiser and battleship.  Now, from the opposite
side of the system and approaching in his force's baffles, appeared a flight of
Intruders, a spread of six torpedoes, and a Crusader class attack ship, all on
different vectors but all converging on him.

"How many ships
are there?" Vol demanded.  "Is there another Crusader behind that
flight of torpedoes?"

"Sensors aren't
picking up anything behind them, Captain," the weps officer replied,
"but their cloaking fields have been improving.  I can't be one hundred
percent sure."

"Bah!" Vol
yelled.  "Be sure or I'll have you executed!" 

The bridge crew
cringed.  Captain Vol had once been known to terminate those he'd felt were not
up to the task, but hadn't done so in a long time.  They hoped he didn't revert
to his old ways while they were present, and all redoubled their efforts at
their own stations.

"In
range," Renner's XO announced solemly.  The bridge of the destroyer was
fairly small in comparison to a Confed ship, allowing for a crew of only
seven.  As such, his XO was also the weapons officer and sat right next to him
on the elevated platform against the aft bulkhead.

"Fire,"
Renner commanded.  "Target all batteries on the lead ship; the only way
we're going to do any damage is if we concentrate all our fire on a single
target and take them out one at a time."  Left unsaid was that his
destroyers probably wouldn't last long enough to take out more than one of the
Priman cruisers.  Oh well, it was going to be a hell of a fight.

The two enemies
opened up on each other at the same time, charged energy bursts passing each
other in the dark and impassive emptiness of space.  The cosmos didn't care what
these life forms did to each other; it just set the laws of physics and watched
the energy bursts reach out from one group of ships to the other and took note
as materials, life forms and even oxygen suffered, exploded and were rendered
back to the basic elements of creation.

"Report!"
Renner yelled over the din on the bridge.  Warning klaxons, damage control
notifications, and target lock alerts all vied for his attention even as he
tried his best to plan their next move.  His ship had already taken several
solid hits and had lost one of its precious five laser batteries.  A shower of
sparks lit the forward port section of the bridge, the sudden change in
illumination from combat-dim to electrical-arc bright temporarily blinding
him.  He blinked furiously, trying to get his eyes to work right and clear the
smoke that had gotten in them and caused tears of irritation.  When they
adjusted, the corner was dark, the immediately distinguishing features being a
large scorch mark on the crew station and an unconscious or dead crewwoman
lying on the floor. 

"Laser Battery
Two is out," began the sensors officer, who also had the grim task of
running Damage Control.  "Forward shields are at twenty percent, active
sensors are down entirely-"

"Can we still
fight?" barked Renner.

"Yes sir,"
came the swift reply.

"Good,"
Renner said, satisfied.  He rapidly tapped commands into his chair console's
screen as he talked.  "Comms, ready a databurst channel; I'll send it when
I'm done here.  Helm, get ready to maneuver; we're going to do it just like
your exercise against Cobalt a few days ago."

Renner finished his
instructions and hit the 'commit' button, sending the command to the five
destroyers still holding formation with him as they charged into the withering
Priman fire.  A second later, they acted.  Three of the Lemurian ships changed
course and pitched ninety degrees nose up, then began accelerating on the new
vector.  The other three changed course ninety degrees to port on their
original plane of maneuver, desperately hoping to split the Priman cruisers
apart.

"Captain,"
beckoned the helmsman, "the Lemurians are splitting their forces."

Captain Dorcot
studied the display for a second in contemplation.  Their fire had weakened his
shields, but had not diminished his combat effectiveness.  "We shall
oblige  them then; it will be easier to finish them off three at a time.  Helm,
follow the ships raising their bows, Comms, instruct the Vengeance to pursue
the other three."

Captain Dorcot
turned to his weapons officer.  "Keep firing until I tell you to stop.  We
can't give them a chance to catch their breath."

"It's
working," the XO commented just as the ship received another hit, this one
jarring them all in their seats in spite of the inertial compensators.  There
was a resounding bang, and another section of the ship turned black on the
wireframe schematic, signifying a complete loss of that section.  "Are you
sure we wanted it to work?"

Renner only smiled
grimly.  "Yes.  Yes, I did.  Tell the other element to rejoin now."

The woman sent the
command, and the other three destroyers pulled their noses up past ninety
degrees, which sent them angling towards Renner's ships. 

"Helm, twenty
degrees to port," Renner commanded.  He watched the tactical plot and his
plan in motion.  The other three destroyers were now heading towards his ships
on an intercept vector, which he was making easier with his course change
towards them.  The point of the maneuver was to have the other three destroyers
cross behind his ships and his Priman pursuers.  This would expose the Priman
ships' sterns to continuous fire from the second destroyer element.

Renner was starting
to feel the dangerous emotion of hope.  Hope had a tendency of letting you get
your spirits up and start thinking unrealistically, too far ahead, and then
sending everything crashing down as harsh, brutal reality took hold and smashed
those happy thoughts.  That is exactly what happened as one of the destroyer
icons in the trailing formation winked out suddenly, along with the data feed
from it.

"What
happened?" he asked his XO.

"Must have been
a couple of simultaneous hits," she replied darkly.  "Their shields
were almost wiped out, then they started showing massive damage."  She
looked at her captain out of the corner of her eye.  "Either way, they're
gone."

Renner just gritted
his teeth.  He'd assumed that none of them would survive the day, but he needed
to take out some Primans first to make their sacrifice count for something.

Commander Loren
Stone sat in the Captain's chair of Avenger, and he had to admit it felt
right.  He'd spent so much time thinking about getting another chance to make
the Primans pay that now, with a ship at his command, he felt truly in his
element.  He knew what he had to do, and how he'd do it.

"Fire." 
He spoke the single word that the weapons officer had been craving.

"Thank you,
sir," the weps officer replied, and with a tap of a touchscreen sent a
flight of four torpedoes launching from Avenger's forward tubes in a ripple
fire volley.  Each one was fired a split second after the last, which gave
their IFF computers time to identify the friendly weapons in their vicinity
while still under Avenger's control.  Loren had tasked two torpedoes to each of
two Priman cruisers.  In a few seconds they'd know if the latest round of
software upgrades were enough to counter the Priman's extraordinary sensor
jamming techniques.  He glanced at the chrono above the main display and saw
that he was only a few more seconds away from the tubes being ready for another
volley.

"Tubes One
through Four ready, Commander," the weps officer announced.

"Fire on the
next round of targets," Loren commanded.  If the range rings on the main
tactical display were right, they'd be about within reach of the long range
Priman laser batteries right, about... now.

"Incoming!"
called Lieutenant Caho at the Sensors station.  "Long range lasers, right
on schedule."

Loren watched in
morbid fascination as tiny red lasers lanced out from the Priman cruisers in
the big holo field in the front of the bridge.  They radiated out in all
directions from the enemy formation at the three Confed capital ships, and
Loren saw plenty of their number converge on Avenger.  Unlike torpedoes, lasers
couldn't be shot down and were hard to dodge.  It was easier to double up on
shield coverage since the computers could plot the impact location from such a
long distance, though.  

Captain Vol was
furious.  He only had a split second to decide how to engage the Confed
forces.  Keeping his ships massed was the most sound strategy, but his enemies
were approaching from too many different directions.  If he continued to face
the battleship and cruiser, the most powerful threat to him, he'd be letting
the Crusader class ship- now identified as the perennially troublesome Avenger-
along with a flight of torpedoes and her Intruder attack fighters, have a clear
shot at the sterns of his entire formation.  The principles of defeat in
detail, the goal of isolating and destroying the enemy formation in bits and
pieces with superior numbers, dictated that he keep his ships together. 
However, reality was stating that if he didn't detail at least some ships to
keep Avenger busy, he'd never be able to focus on the big battleship the way
he'd need to.

"Task Spite and
Revenge to attack Avenger and keep our baffles clear," Captain Vol
commanded to the communications officer.

"Will only two
ships be enough?" Representative Ravine asked softly from her place next
to him. 

"It will have
to be," Vol said with finality.  After a pause, he continued. 
"Launch all fighters and send them after the Confederation Intruders and
their escorts."  Small fighter craft had never been a crucial part of
Priman combat doctrine, but the reliance of the Confederation on such craft had
forced a shift in theory.  Yes, Vol lamented, his people were reacting to the
Confederation, and he didn't like it one bit.  He had two cruisers in his force
that had been largely hollowed out and turned into makeshift carriers, each
holding twenty-four fighters.  They didn't have room for the more capable
Reaper ships, but he'd make do.  He watched in satisfaction as the small craft
boiled from the two cruisers and formed up to engage the Confed fighters. 

All the varied
elements of the battle came to a head in the next handful of seconds.  Two
Priman cruisers turned one hundred eighty degrees to meet Avenger.  The six
'Lightweight' torpedoes converged on the main Priman formation.  Cory's
Intruders bore down on the main Priman formation while being covered by Merritt's
Talons of Viper Squadron, all while the Priman fighters closed on them.  The
remaining five Lemurian destroyers converged within gun range of the lead
Priman cruiser in pursuit of them.  And last but not least, the torpedoes and
long range lasers of the main Priman force and the assault force of Majestic
and Cobalt began to find their mark.