In the Presence of My Enemies (18 page)

   “I don’t doubt it. Well done, Commander.” He then looked down to Samantha. “How many ships are on approach?” he asked her. 

   “Sensors are showing at least thirty vessels on approach, sir.”

  
Now is the time to turn the tide in our favor.

  
“Commander Kestrel’s signal is coming from the lead Rugorian battle cruiser,” Weberity added.

   “Where do you need us?” Kestrel asked.

   “There’s a Meltranian vessel in low orbit. It’s already destroyed one population center, and it’s taking aim at another right now. Get all your forces to that area and take out the alien there. We’ll continue to hold off the remaining enemy ships.”

   “Understood, sir.”

   Ramos watched on Samantha’s screen as the large fleet of Rugorian warships—battle wagons, cruisers, destroyers, and more blockade runners than he could count—swoop over from their starboard side on their way to the planet.

   And m
ay God watch over every one of them
.

“There was no way of telling what was going on in the minds of the enemy. All we had to go on at that point was the intelligence provided to us by the Kafarans, and half the top brass at Sector Command took everything
they
said with more than a grain of salt. I mean, hell, you have to remember . . . we hadn’t even discovered the alien library at Tellun Impora at that time. We thought that, after a few victories, it entitled us to a puffed chest as we thumbed our nose at the Meltranians. We really had no idea what we were up against, or how deadly our foe really was. And we found out soon enough, didn’t we?” 

—Major General W.R. Queston

5
th
Unified Marine Battalion Commander

The Five Stars: Military Leaders in the Meltranian Incursion, 2
nd
Edition.

   The Rugorian fleet, with Shawn in the belly of the lead battle cruiser, came down on the Meltranian vessel in orbit like a flaming arrow. The Meltranian fighters, sensing a much larger threat, disengaged from attacking the two Kafaran warships and moved in to engage the Rugorians. As soon as the enemy fighters were in weapons range, a throng of lightning-fast Rugorian blockade runners moved ahead of the fleet, blasting away at anything and everything in their path. The maneuver looked far from polished, but the lead ships from the House of Dracton did their jobs well.

   On the bridge of the newly reactivated battle cruiser
Redemption
, Captain Voula watched as his former prisoners began to attack the Meltranians with more tenacity than he had ever witnessed before.

   “Still think
those dissidents should be executed?” Shawn asked over the captain’s shoulder.

  
Voula, too concerned with the battle to turn and face the commander, chuckled lightly. “Their sentences have been commuted by the Rugorian Protectorate for the time being, Commander. For now, they are free men. If they perform well in this encounter, they may even be redeemed,” he said, then turned to smile at Shawn. “In my eyes, that is. I have little say in what the protectorate will decide.”

   “I can understand that.”

   Voula looked over to his weapons officer. “Order all mass cannon crews to target the Meltranian vessel.”

   “Yes, Captain!” came the reply from the new gunner, himself almost too large to sit at the human-sized console.

   “And, Colonel Tausan?”

   The Kafaran looked up from the weapons console. “Yes, Fleet Captain?”

   “I’d should be quite disappointed if you fail to do your utmost to destroy that offensive vessel out there.”

   Tausan grunted, which received a smile from Melissa who stood at his side to assist him. “You will not be dissatisfied with my performance, Captain.”

   As the colonel went to his duties, Voula and Shawn turned to the forward windows and the Meltranian vessel quickly filling it up. Seconds later, heavy blasts of energy sprang out from the two dozen small cannon batteries on the
Redemption
. This was quickly followed by several barrages from the upper and lower mass cannons—large-caliber weapons designed to burst open heavily fortified planetary strongholds. The result was immediately seen. Large sections of the Meltranian warship flaked off, and in several places exposed the innards of the vessel to open space. After a small number of salvos, the mass cannons went silent.

   “I only wish we had more rounds,” Voula said as he watched Shawn brace himself in anticipation. “Not only are they expensive, but they take a heavy toll on our energy reserves.”

   Looking at the devastation that the few rounds had brought about, Shawn was more than satisfied with the results. “I think the Meltranians got the point.”

   “Colonel Tausan,” Voula said. “Continue firing all remaining energy weapons until the barrels overheat or the target is destroyed.” He then turned to one of the Rugorians in the corner. “Communications, order all ships not currently engaged with enemy fighters to open fire on the Meltranian vessel with extreme prejudice.”

   With the odds now in their favor, the Rugorian fleet made little work of the once-powerful Meltranian warship. Surrounded by thirty warships, its attention was too divided from the planet to pose any more threat. As round after round from the Rugorians whittled away at the intruder, it tried in vain to move away from the planet and escape, but the Rugorians were having none of it. It fired off one final shot from its isotonic cannon, missing its target and rocketing harmlessly between two Rugorian cruisers. When at last the enemy vessel stopped moving under its own power, Shawn knew that it was signaling its own death. Once a Rugorian battle cruiser—one similar to the one Shawn was currently on—moved into position, he knew it was time. The vessel sent out several rounds from its mass cannon, neatly severing the Meltranian vessel in two before each half exploded in succeeding fireballs.

   With one enemy ship down and two to go, Captain Voula gave the order to maneuver the fleet closer to the combined Unified-
Kafaran forces. At their distance, Shawn could see the entire battlefield stretched out across two large windows. The Unified forces, huddled together on the right, were facing off against the two intruders. From the left, Shawn watched as the closest Meltranian warship fired its massive isotonic cannon, holing a Kafaran destroyer through and through, and disabling a Unified cruiser with one blast.  

   “How soon until we’re in weapons range?” Shawn asked eagerly.

   “Three minutes,” Voula said as he watched the monitors and read the battle reports from his fleet. “No more. And our ships are completely spent of mass cannon rounds.”

   Shawn felt helpless. He wanted to be in his fighter and out in space. At least then he’d have felt as if he were making a contribution. Out of the windows, he could see the fighters of both friends and foe twisting and twirling around the Meltranian ships. He wondered if Roslyn Brunel and the rest of the Rippers were out there. An image flashed in his mind, one he didn’t care to dwell on, and he quickly pushed it aside. Looking out the right window and scanning the ships there, he quickly found the carrier. The
Duchess of York
—the same class as the
Rhea
but with just enough external difference to tell the two apart—was there, launching and recovering fighters and rescue craft. So was the Kafaran flagship Shawn had witnessed during his last encounter with the Meltranians. Every other Sector Command vessel the Commander could see was far too small to be an additional carrier. He remembered the last report from Admiral Graves telling him the
Rhea
had been disabled.
What was her current fate?
Is she down for good
? There was simply no way to tell. He pushed the thoughts aside, trying instead to focus on the task at hand—although he had very little to do at the moment.

   “Sixty seconds,” a voice called out, but was rapidly becoming distant as Shawn’s attention was divided elsewhere.

   Shawn looked to Melissa, who was busy helping Tausan at the weapons console. She was beautiful. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her, to tell her that he loved her.
That I love her?
The thought was there, and as it lingered, he pondered it. The more he recycled it in his mind, the more resolute the feeling became.
Yes, I do.
He smiled as much to himself, then took a step closer to her, intent on telling her exactly what was on his mind—the battle be damned. That was when the
Redemption
took a direct hit and the ship rocked violently, knocking him from his feet in the process. Coming to his senses a moment later, he saw that he wasn’t the only one picking himself off the deck. Voula had fallen as well, as had a handful of bridge officers.

   “We’re within the range of the Meltranians
’ secondary batteries,” Voula said as he hefted Shawn from the deck. “It’s going to be bumpy from here on out, Commander.”

   Shawn turned to Trent, who was helping out at one of the damage control consoles to his right. With his attention fully taken by his duties it made Shawn feel even less necessary. Sighing, Shawn turned his attention back to the forward windows. The Meltranian vessels were inching closer to the Unified forces, and it was only a matter of time before they fired another round of their powerful weapons. He was without a ship, without a fighter, without a command to give. What could he do but sit back and watch the events unfold before him? In short, Shawn Kestrel felt helpless, and he hated himself for it.

   Then it hit him.

   “We need to get on their stern.”

   “What was that?” Voula asked, bracing himself against the vibrations in the hull from another salvo from the Meltranian vessel.

   “We need to get behind them, take out their maneuvering abilities.”

   “Put them between us and your fleet?” Voula asked, then smiled as the thought of doing so crossed his mind. “They’ll be trapped.”

   Shawn nodded. “And have no way out.”

   “But only if we close the gap quickly,” Voula acknowledged. “There’s still a considerable amount of distance between the aliens and your people.”

   “Then we’ll just have to push them.”

   As the Meltranian vessels got larger in the screen, Shawn could see that Voula was going over the options in his mind. “Shepherding a ship that large is going to be something of a feat, Commander Kestrel. Add to that fact that we’ll have two enemy vessels to herd simultaneously.”

   “You saying your people can’t manage?” he asked brazenly.

   Voula smirked, then inclined his head toward the helm console. “It’s not a job for someone who’s lacking experience,” he said with a smile. “Or audacity.”

   “You offering me a job, Captain?”

   Voula took a quick glance around the bridge. “You seem to have the only idle hands here, Commander. Besides, something tells me you wouldn’t mind taking orders from a bandit.”

   “Well, you’re wrong on that one. I don’t take orders from pirates.”

   “No?”

   “No. But I do take them from friends.”

   Voula smiled broadly. “Take your post, Commander. We’ve got some lambs to lead to the slaughter.”

* * *

   Fleet Captain Ramos, having long since discarded his hat in the heat of battle, ran a hand through his thick black hair. The
Duchess of York
wasn’t taking direct fire from the Meltranians, but she was still incurring damage. As often happens in close space combat, one of the cruisers that had earlier linked up with the
Duchess
while in route to Osa’Mara had made a miscalculation as she tried to avoid enemy fire. The inexperienced helmsman, having not accounted for spatial drift, sent his ship directly into a minor collision with the
Duchess
, sheering off a layer of armor and quite a few sensor palettes and antennas in the process. While no one was hurt critically, there were a few bumps and bruises—to say nothing about the wounded pride of the young helmsman.

   Even before that, the bridge and three decks below had lost main power after a several Meltranian fighters had broken th
rough the outer defenses and landed several solid missile strikes against the
Duchess
’s hull. Air processing units were offline, and the entire bridge was bathed in the blue glow of emergency lighting. Now, far beyond the forward view port, Ramos could see his fighters and the ones carried over from the
Rhea
engaging the Meltranian. He was proud of them, each one a credit to the service and their uniform. He would welcome them home with honors—assuming there was a home to return to.

   “Captain,” Samantha called from across the bridge. “The Rugorians did it!”

   “You’ll have to be more specific, Samantha. To what are you referring?”

   “The Meltranian ship in low orbit has been destroyed, sir.”

   “That’s verified?” Ramos asked.

   Ashlee Kidd quickly tied her long brown hair into a makeshift knot above her head, and wished it was within protocol to take off her uniform jacket.
It’s sweltering in here
. “Confirmed, sir,” she said, quickly bringing up the secondary sensors on her navigation display.

   “Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Weberity reported from the operations console. “The chief engineer is bringing the backup bridge generators online now.”

   I wonder how much longer it will take to
—but the Captain’s thoughts were interrupted when the blue emergency lights were immediately replaced with the normal glow of the bridge lights flickering on. A second later, there was a series of clunks from the overhead, followed by the sound of cool air rushing into the space. Both Ashlee and Samantha breathed a heavy sigh of relief as they leaned back into their chairs.

   Their relaxation was short
-lived, as a series of bright explosions lit up the view ports. The destroyer
Wellington
had just been hit, and looking out at her shattered hull, Ramos held little hope any survivors would be found.