Call to Arms (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 2) (22 page)

“Aye, sir.” Lieutenant Keller rubbed his eyes and tried to shake himself into full alertness.

It took Hayashi another fifteen minutes to get the package ready to send to Flight OPS for review. It was uploaded into the drone with minimal supervision from Davis. Jackson had allotted for three times that, so he sat quietly in his chair, enjoying the sounds of his crew at work around him, while he finished off his coffee.

“Flight OPS reports the drone is loaded into the dorsal launch bay and is ready to fly at your command, Captain,” Hayashi said.

“Flight OPS, this is the Captain.” Jackson held the button for the intercom. The computer would automatically route the intercom channel to where it needed to go. “We’ll be launching the drone while under power. Adjust accordingly, and then launch at your discretion.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” The voice of Commander Juarez came through his speakers. “Drone launching in thirty seconds. Standby.”

“Confirmed drone launch out of dorsal bay two,” Hayashi reported a minute later. “Handoff successful. We’re getting full telemetry downlink.”

“OPS, make sure the drone maintains at least ten kilometers of separation.” Jackson did some quick math in his head as he looked over the tactical display again. It would be close if the closing ships were sharp and alert, but he expected them to hesitate. “Go ahead and sound the general alert and get everyone into their restraints.”

The klaxon sounded twice before Hayashi’s voice came over the intercom. “All personnel, standby for evasive maneuvers. Non-essential crew are ordered into their restraints.”

Another ten minutes passed in tense silence as Jackson, not bothering to tell his crew exactly what he had planned, watched the rapidly dwindling distance numbers that were pinned next to each of the closing ships’ icons on the main display.

“Helm! Emergency stop!” he barked.

To his credit, the helmsman didn’t hesitate for even a second. He slapped the throttles back to the null position, reversed thrust, and shoved them forward again while simultaneously firing all the auxiliary braking thrusters.

Everyone was pitched forward as the gravimetric generators were unable to fully compensate for the violent maneuver. The main engines roared as they ran up to full power. and the
Ares
shuddered as inertia and superheated plasma thrust fought against each other. After twenty-two long minutes, the engines were throttled back, and the normal hums and beeps of the bridge could be heard again.

“Helm answering full stop, sir,” the helmsman said.

“Maintain our relative position,” Jackson said. “OPS, how’s our drone?”

“Still flying straight and clean, sir,” Hayashi reported.

“Go ahead and let everyone out of their restraints.” Jackson popped his own off and stood. “It’ll take the incoming ships fifteen to twenty minutes to fully realize what we’ve done. Tactical, keep the active scans going. Let me know the instant they react to our move.”

“Yes, sir.” Barrett shrugged out of his own harness.

“Might I ask what out next move will be, Captain?” Lieutenant Davis asked from her seat.

“For right now, we’ll wait to see what they do,” Jackson said. “They’ve been reacting to our charge into the system, so now they’ll have to decide whether to correct their course to continue pursuing us or come about and chase after the drone that’s about to bisect their formations.”

“So the rush down into the system was a ruse?” she asked.

“A feint,” Jackson nodded. “Show them one thing, get them to bite on it, then wait until it’s too late for them to do anything about it before revealing what you’re real plan is.”

“Might I know what the real plan is, sir?”

“We need to get in direct contact with those ships tied up in dock,” Jackson said. “I also want a high-power relay close to the shipyards to forward any communications from the NOVA teams. Right now, our intel says the crews have been sequestered on the ships with mooring clamps and dock overrides in place, but that intel is weeks old.”

“And if those ships don’t have crews to fly them?”

“We get our NOVA teams back, and we get the hell out of this system,” Jackson said. “I’m not risking the
Ares
or the
Icarus
for sixteen aging warships that may not even be in any shape to fight.”

As they waited for the Fourth Fleet ships to react, Jackson received a message from Daya Singh. Apparently, the
Ares
set a new Fleet record by coming to a complete relative stop from .35c in less than five hundred thousand kilometers in open space. Impressive. The crew was becoming more tense, more energized as the potential engagement neared.

“Captain, it looks like both groups are reducing velocity,” Barrett said. “Thermals are picking up reverse thrust blooms from every ship, and radar confirms.”

“Are they just slowing down?” Jackson frowned, punching in the commands to magnify that section of the main display.

“No, sir,” Barrett said. “They’re also angling in toward our current position, but not by much.”

“Is there any indication they even saw the drone fly through their formation?” Jackson tapped his chin, a nervous habit he’d picked up recently for some reason.

“None that they’ve shown,” Barrett said. “Not even the escort vehicles turned or slowed when it went through.”

“Then this isn’t actually their strategy. Helm! Maintain relative position. Zero thrust, station keeping thrusters only.” Jackson turned to Davis. “We’ve caught them completely flat-footed. They’re going to slow down and angle in to give themselves more time to react to anything we might do, but they’re completely defensive right now.”

“Could it be because they want to hold us here for some reason we can’t yet see?” she asked.

“Possibly,” Jackson conceded, “but unlikely. They’re giving us too much time to think as well as far too many avenues of escape given our superior acceleration.”

“This is the first thing even remotely close to a combat engagement any of them have ever seen, sir,” Barrett said. “If they’re going through what I did the first time, they’re likely just overwhelmed.”

“The more we observe their movements, the more we’ll know about their intentions,” Jackson said. “Continue monitoring all ships, and stay alert for any surprises they may be trying to spring on us.”

“Aye, sir.”

****

“Jam all the hatches except that one!” Amiri Essa shouted as all twenty-five members of the team piled into the large control room labeled “Master Docking Control.”

At his command, four team members grabbed adhesive-backed thermite strips and, after sticking them on one side of the hatchway, slammed the hatches shut onto them. The impact and pressure activated the device, and sparks erupted from the four hatches almost simultaneously as they were welded shut by the intense heat.

“Only one way in or out now, sir,” Rat said as they deployed around the remaining hatch in a loose defensive formation that allowed them to cover all the angles of approach while staying reasonably covered.

“Colt! Get to work!” Amiri waved away the noxious smoke created by the thermite strips.

Colt ran up with his tile and, pulling out a different lead than he’d used at their ingress point, established a hard connection with the long, multi-display terminal that lined the bulkhead on the far wall.

“Making connection now, sir,” Colt said. “Releasing the docking overrides. They’ll have control over all their systems and coms again shortly.”

“Let’s hope the crews are onboard and are ready to act.” Amiri looked at his chronometer. “We’ve already been here far too long. Establish contact with the
Ares
as soon as you can. I have a feeling our original exfil is going to be a no-go.”

“I’m on it.” Rat moved to one of the unsecured terminals along the near bulkhead. “Let’s hope these guys didn’t secure the terminals before we subdued them.”

When the NOVA team had approached the control room, there had been a lot of frantic conversation about the
Ares
acting aggressively toward their ships, but they seemed oblivious to the fact they’d been boarded. Amiri introduced himself with a pair of flash bang grenades and ten of his men rushing in to tape their mouths and put them in restraints.

Rat fumbled through the menus of the terminal. “I’ve dropped the localized jamming on the standard Fleet frequencies, sir. There’s a repeating broadcast coming in for the ships in both battlegroups from a drone in high orbit. It’s giving them orders and letting them know that we’re about to release their ships.”

“They should have figured that out already,” Colt said. “The overrides have been dropped. All ship functions have been returned to the command crews.”

“Rat, can you get me an open channel to the docked ships?” Amiri asked.

“Yes, sir.” Rat ran through a few more menus before nodding to him.

“Seventh Fleet commanders, this is Lieutenant Commander Amiri Essa, NOVA Team Four. As you likely have noticed, we’re in the process of securing your vessels’ release. Please respond on this channel with your status and begin preparing your ships for flight. Time is of the essence, so brevity is appreciated,” Amiri nodded for Rat to kill the channel. “Monitor that, and let me know what they have to say.”

One by one, all the ships began checking in and confirming their orders, and after fifty minutes, Colt let him know that all but two ships had at least one reactor started and were starting on their primary flight systems. Things were going so smoothly that he wasn’t surprised when a few shouts from the corridor beyond preceded small arms fire into the control room.

“Close that hatch!” Amiri shouted.

Now that some of Marines aboard were aware of their presence, it would only be a matter of time before they released their comrades and assaulted the room in force.

“Tech, keep working on getting those ships out of here,” he said. “Rat, try to get word to the
Ares
and Team Six—”

An explosion against one of the welded hatches interrupted him.

“Sir?”

“Tell them Team Four is buster,” Amiri said grimly. “We’re not getting out of here.”

Chapter 13

“Captain, NOVA Team Four is pinned down in master docking control,” Lieutenant Keller said. “They’re releasing all the Black Fleet ships, but they aren’t able to get to their exfil point. Apparently the Marines stationed on the shipyard have deployed to keep them from escaping.”

“Major Ortiz to the bridge,” Jackson said over the intercom, his jaw clenching in frustration. “Coms, try to raise Team Six and get an update from them.”

“Do you think Team Six could get them out?” Davis asked.

“I’m completely certain of it,” Jackson said. “But I’m not ready to order so many troops to their deaths. The NOVA teams would both lose people, and the Marines would almost certainly be wiped out. We’re just trying to get back the ships that are ours, not declare war on New America in the process. Coms, get ready to transmit a secure text-only message to the
Icarus
.”

“Standing by, sir,” Keller said.

****

Celesta Wright had to read through the new order from Captain Wolfe twice to make sure she was completely certain she knew what he wanted. Any mistake in executing these orders would be an unmitigated disaster.

“Nav, how long until we’re in orbit over DeLonges?” she asked.

“At current velocity, we’ll achieve upper orbit in sixteen hours, ma’am.”

“I need to shave at least ten hours off that time,” Celesta said. “More would be better.”

“Standby, ma’am.” The specialist input new velocity numbers into his calculations. “A full burn for seventy-three minutes will get us there in approximately four and a half hours. We’ll need to adjust our course to account for the increased velocity, and it will require a hard braking maneuver to make orbit.”

“Helm, make it happen,” Celesta ordered. “You’re clear to engage the mains and enter course updates from navigation as they come.”

“Ahead full, aye,” the helmswoman said.

“The clock will start when the engines reach full power, Captain” her OPS officer said. “The thermal bloom from the mains will be visible to anyone looking.”

“That can’t be helped now.” Celesta sat back in her chair. “We were a contingency action that was just activated.”

“May I be so bold as to ask what the plan is, Captain?” her XO squirmed slightly in his seat.

“For right now, I’d rather not make that information generally available,” Celesta said evasively. “Let’s just get this ship into position, and then we’ll worry about that.”

“Of course, Captain.”

****

“We’re running this all on timing with a ship on the other side of the system and no open coms,” Jackson griped aloud as he watched the main display.

The Fourth Fleet ships had redeployed into staggered picket lines, forming a funnel into an obvious corridor between them. It was such a pathetically obvious tactic that he began thinking they had something else they planned to spring on him.

“There’s some slop in the timing though, sir,” Davis said. “The com lag will work in our favor on this as long as those ships don’t hesitate when they get the call.”

“Lots of ‘ifs’ in there, Lieutenant.” Jackson raised an eyebrow. “But we have to be unorthodox since we’re only two ships against an armada. Hopefully, this won’t end up—”

“The
Icarus
has just showed up on sensors, Captain,” Barrett said. “She’s lit up like a beacon, full active sensors and all transponders are pinging.”

“Good, good,” Jackson said. “Commander Wright was able to get into position on time. Nav, get me a course that takes us down on a close pass of the shipyards.”

“Aye, sir.”

“The picket ships will have spotted the
Icarus
over DeLonges by now,” Davis said. “How long until they react?”

“Coms, let me know when the first distress calls come in from the planet,” Jackson said, ignoring Davis. They only had to wait around thirty minutes before the first panicked, open channel broadcasts came from DeLonges about a Black Fleet ship attacking them from orbit.

“Helm! Ahead full!” Jackson barked. “Engage auxiliary boosters. Let’s kick her in the ass.”