Star Crusades Nexus: Book 09 - The Black Rift (28 page)

He pointed and left a mark on the display. The computer had already assessed the timing required for the ships to hit their targets before they would be moving away, but not too early that they might be able to change their course. Captain Marcus and the tactical officer both looked at his projection with a growing level of apprehension.

“Very nice,” said Captain Marcus, “So we hit them at their point of no return, and then what?”

“By the time they move away, we will finish off their fleet, right here.”

He indicated the heart of the shipyards.

“What about the Ark?”

Admiral Lewis sighed.

“We will do whatever damage we can. They will head to Micaya and enter a low orbit. Once we’re done here, we can regroup, and then hit them when it’s convenient to us, not them.”

“Uh, Admiral. At this range we might have a chance,” said Lieutenant Vitelli.

The officer moved his tracking plans over to the display. They matched up with the projected course change for the Ark. Both of his senior officers looked at the data with interest.

“You think we can disable the Ark from here?”

The man nodded, the weight of his idea now beginning to dawn on him. Admiral Lewis looked at the data and shook his head in surprise.

“That’s a risky proposition. You’re suggesting we hold fire until the Ark is already leaving and then hit from the rear, at this point?”

Lieutenant Vitelli nodded, but he was too nervous to speak. Captain Marcus appeared less convinced.

“Admiral, if we do this, the Ark will gain nearly eleven minutes worth of time to rake this entire site. Any ships they identify will be in flames before we can launch an attack.”

“True, but if we can strike with my force, plus the Byotai, we can hit them from behind. Their escort is minimal, and we will be able to pursue them all the way to Micaya.”

He licked his lip as he finished. The idea of surviving the battle had been his original intention, but the faintest possibility of getting the upper hand on one of these Arks was just too good a chance to let up.

“Communications, I need a priority directed narrow-range briefing with Admiral Anderson.”

He looked back to his tactical officer and then to Captain Marcus.

“Anderson can hold the rest of their forces, especially with ANS Warlord entering the fray. If we can do this, we’ll protect Micaya and destroy their fleet in a single action. It’s going require the greatest of resolve. Can we do it?”

* * *

ANS Warlord, near Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

Admiral Anderson watched the mainscreen as though his very soul depended on it. The crew managed their approach toward the shipyards, and for this short moment he found a few seconds of calm. The ship shuddered continually from the rain of gunfire, yet nothing seemed to harm her. Particle beams ripped off chunks of the ablative armor on her bow, and entire sections of plate tore from her flanks, yet on went the massive vessel.

“What’s their status?” he asked.

“Sir, we count thirty Biomantas destroyed plus eight Ravagers. That still leaves them with one hundred and fifty-three ships, plus the Ark.”

“Yes, so our forces look equal. With Admiral Lewis and the Byotai, we will have twice their numbers. Good.”

“Admiral, the Biomechs are redeploying.”

“Show me.”

The layout of the shipyards was a mess. The vast central structure was relatively uninvolved in the fight right now. Instead, there were two large spokes surrounded by ships, many of which were now damaged. Half of the Biomechs moved about at will, to attack whatever they could find. At the same time, the rest was heading to the outer limits to head off the Alliance reinforcements.

“I see, so what exactly is in front of me?”

“A single Cephalon, thirty Biomantas, and half of the Ravagers.”

“Admiral, flash message from Admiral Lewis. For your eyes only.”

He nodded and turned about in his chair to look at a smaller screen. A videostream appeared, along with a tactical plan. Before he spoke, he had already scanned through the schematic and the key points.

“Admiral Lewis, that’s an interesting idea.”

He shook his head as he continued.

“There’s something I never did tell you though, about our little surprise.”

The two Admirals looked at each other until finally the data arrived on Admiral Lewis’ screen. The data transmission was a focused laser system that could only be identified or monitored by directly blocking the line of sight, something that was currently clear.

“Good God, will that really work?”

Admiral Anderson grinned.

“Why do you think I put her so far from everybody else? The Helions said this part of the station was defunct. I think it would be a fitting end to its service, don’t you?”

Admiral Lewis looked at the imagery but found he was unable to even speak.

“That’s exactly what I thought when Commander Erdeniz brought up the idea.”

“Erdeniz? He’s the man that had the great idea with Endurance. You trust his judgment?”

“That’s why I put him in command of ANS Explorer. He assures me the timing sequence has been corrected. Apparently, the issue last time was the proximity of the entry and exit points. The Rift distortion overlapped and caused some kind of feedback loop.”

Admiral Lewis didn’t seem convinced.

“So it was like having a microphone too close to a speaker?”

He shook his head.

“All I know is that ship was lost and caused almost as much damage to my own ships as to the enemy. We estimate our crew losses were over five thousand following the blast.”

“Yes, there is a great risk. But as in that tragedy there was still good. You won that fight, one that looked far from possible.”

“And if he’s wrong, Admiral?”

Admiral Anderson breathed in slowly through his nose.

“Nothing is certain, but if this works, we’ll cripple them in ways they have never even considered. It is my intention to develop this system into a major weapon, if it works.”

Even Admiral Lewis shook his head as he tried to imagine the power of this weapon.

“This will make the weapons on the planets seem inconsequential. This an apocalyptical weapon.”

Anderson smiled.

“I like that.”

What if the Alliance had never built that fated Spacebridge to T’Karan? Some postulate that humanity would have expanded as a natural phase of its development. There are many more that consider humanity would have fallen apart, due to the hidden enemies waiting on Hades and Mars. The Biomechs might have shattered the backbone of the Alliance but not invaded for perhaps another century. In the meantime, the machines would have smashed the Helions and become vastly more powerful. Instead, the Alliance was able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other races in time for this epic war.

The Unforeseen Consequences

Battleship Retribution, Taxxu, Uncharted Space

There was nothing but blackness and a slight feeling of a cool, slightly chilled atmosphere. Spartan could sense the stillness around him, but he refused to open his eyes just yet. His body was upright, and he was able to stand without moving a single muscle; the feeling it gave him was almost of a weightless sleep.

You will strike, and you will kill. Cut off the head, Spartan, and the body will die.

The voice was familiar but as distant as the many other times he’d heard it. With his eyes shut, he could still sense everything around him. The connection between the Thegn armor and the machine allowed him to sense warmth, moisture, and sound, as if his skin was actually exposed, even though he was encased inside the metal machine. He could hear and feel a slight scraping on his armor, like a nail being drawn slowly across a board.

Open your eyes.

He opened them, even though it wasn’t what he had intended to do, and let out a long, shallow breath. The oxygen-rich feed inside the armor allowed him to exert himself to levels he could never have managed on his own. His pulse had slowed, and he felt calmer than he had been for a very long time. He looked upon the Rift in space and imagined what might be waiting on the other side. The Ghost Warriors waited patiently, with every one of them connected directly to the machinery of the ship. The shape to his right was Thayara, but he ignored her for now and concentrated on the view being projected in front of him.

“How much longer?” he asked rhetorically.

Another shape moved, and this was the form of One-Zero-One.

“Forty-five seconds.”

Spartan looked at the machine and found himself surprised the time had finally reached that final minute. The procedure had been running for so long now, but even as the minutes ticked by, he had no doubt in his mind as to what would happen. He looked down at his right arm and the short but deadly cutting blades. The blade was marked, and flakes of colored material showed where he had been scratching at something. He looked to the left arm. He leaned in close, but the voice of the machine spoke again.

“The fleet is ready and awaits your recommendations.”

Spartan looked to Thayara and back to the machine.

“We go through and assemble on the other side. I will make a proclamation, a challenge to their citizens. Yield before me, or face atomic destruction.”

“Why would you do this?” Thayara asked.

Her tone was flat, but the words cut deep. Spartan knew she would try to undermine him, to prove her way was best. Spartan was having none of it, though.

“I will sow the seeds of doubt and terror in their hearts. Some will fight, others will argue, and the rest will cower. My proclamation will spread to every world and remind them that man and machine are now one. I know their dispositions, their strengths…”

He then looked back to Thayara.

“And their weaknesses.”

The Rift flashed once and then changed into what looked like a reflective pool.

“Spartan, the Spacebridge is open and stable. Are you ready?” asked the machine.

Spartan crashed his fists together.

“Hell, yes. Send them through. The invasion begins now!”

Thayara turned to walk away, and Spartan reached for her shoulder. She avoided him and twisted around in a position that would have made a normal person fall onto their back.

“”What is it, Spartan?”

“Prepare the assault team.”

One-Zero-One looked to the projection of the Rift and then to Spartan.

“Assault? I thought you intended on striking their ships and then making for the Helion homeworld. Have you changed your mind already?”

Spartan sighed.

“My plan will change as I see fit. Will you be second-guessing me at every stage? My skills and knowledge will win this fight, but not if you doubt me.”

The machine waited and then spoke.

“You have proven yourself in the trials. It is time for you to face your kin. We are ready.”

“Then take us in.”

Spartan could see no officers to direct, just the great projection showing all of the space around the ship. There was no way to tell through touch, but he could already see they were making their way to the Black Rift. One of the massive Rift Engines pushed deep inside the entrance, and half of the vessels immediately vanished. Two-dozen Biomantas followed next, and then it was their turn. The mighty battleship Retribution pushed through the Rift, and then with a single flash, they were in a completely different part of space.

Now fight!
said the voice.

The view of the Helios System was anything but impressive. At this distance from the star, they would take weeks to get anywhere. Spartan moved his eyes and watched as ship after ship appeared on the model. There was a modest number of Helion and Alliance ships, but nothing close to a fleet. One-Zero-One highlighted them all before speaking.

“The enemy has deployed a small group of ships to defend the Great Seal. What are your orders?”

Spartan took a step closer to the ledge and looked down at his warriors.

“Spartan?”

Again he closed his eyes and blocked out every sound and sensation. Inside the armor he could choose what he wanted to feel, and right now that was nothing at all. He had the image of the Black Rift on both sides in his mind, as well as the massive fleet of almost inconceivable numbers. Hundreds upon hundreds of ships, thousands of warriors and battleships that were more than the equal of anything the Alliance could muster. He could visualize the six battleships, each bristling with nearly a hundred Ghost Warriors, and every one of them under his command.

I can send them anywhere, or send them nowhere.

His previous simulations shifted behind his eyes, battles with the Helions, Khreenk, and the Alliance. Space battles, land battles, sieges, and raids. He had tried them all, but there was just one thing he knew had to be done here.

I have to fight with such terror that the war will stop before it starts. I will protect lives on all sides by making this painless.

His mouth curved into a cruel smile as images of those that had wronged him sprung to mind. It wasn’t something he’d intended, and yet they came to him, one at a time. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Thayara and One-Zero-One who had both moved in front of him.

“What wrong with him?” Thayara asked, “Should I take command?”

Spartan reached out and grabbed her arm.

“No. Rejoin the warriors and prepare a boarding party.”

She tried to struggle free, but Spartan kept a firm grasp of her armored limb.

“Look at the ships. This is not the fleet we need to defeat. It is not even a fleet that should concern us.”

One-Zero-One extended one of his mechanical limbs to the projection.

“Yours orders, Spartan?”

“Bring in the rest of the fleet and assemble in battle array right here. I want three hundred ships and our assault force deployed out in front of the Rift. We are not scared of any of these enemies. We are not even concerned. Deploy ready, but do not open gun ports or any other action that looks like we are waiting to attack.”

He nodded to himself with amusement.

“Let them sweat and debate. Are we here to negotiate, surrender, or fight? Trust me, very soon they will know.”

Spartan pointed at the area of open space nearly fifty thousand kilometers from the Black Rift. He could sense the machine already doubted him, and now his own impatience was beginning to rise.

“Put me on an open channel. It is time for my announcement.”

* * *

ANS Warlord, Micaya Shipyards, Helios Sector

Admiral Anderson watched the slowly moving formations of ships inching closer the closer. His own battleship was now directly in front of a Cephalon command ship, and they exchanged gunfire like two great warships of old. The great battle wasn’t what concerned him; instead his attention was on the vast shape of the Ark. Even his own ship would be no match for its power.

Not much longer.

The counter to the right showed the number of seconds until he could begin the next phase of the battle. The timing was critical for so many reasons. Admiral Lewis’ ships would require enough time to power up, and the engineering vessel would need its own window to be able to power its systems. At the same time, the enemy fleet needed to be fully committed to battle with the ships already invested in the fight. Lastly, the Ark had to be on a course that was irreversible.

I wait too long, and they could reach our hidden ships. Too early, and the Ark will change course and head for the heart of the shipyards. This must be done to the damned second!

The numbers were moving slowly, but no matter what was happening out in space, he could see there was less than a minute to go. The nearer it came to that final moment, the faster time seemed to move.

“Sir, two more Cephalons are closing in on our position,” said Captain Decker.

“Good, that’s what we need.”

He moved his hands about the tactical display and selected two squadrons of Crusaders and a pair of battlecruisers. The Cephalons were escorted by a similar number of their own heavy warships.

“Focus fire from all allocated squadrons.”

The Alliance ships were already close by and quickly moved into the requested formations. There was a large amount of space between each vessel, and they presented their bows toward the approaching ships.

“Sir, shouldn’t we hit the Cephalons first?” asked the Captain.

Admiral Anderson shook his head.

“No. We will deal with this situation using good old ratios and mathematics. I want their numbers reduced to increase out combat potential. The Biomantas go first, then the Ravagers.”

“And the Cephalons?”

Admiral Anderson smiled at the question.

“If we’ve destroyed everything else, then I’m sure we can deal with the last of them.”

A buzzing sound reminded him that the timer had run down. He reached for the ancient looking intercom and pulled it to his mouth.

“Phoenix is a go! Light the fires.”

He replaced the device and looked to his crew.

“Give me every ounce of firepower we have remaining, and let’s burn some ships!”

The formation of ships moved straight at the Cephalons, but when they opened fire, it was the two nearest Biomantas that took the brunt. Particle beams exploded entire sections of the ships, but it was the massed volleys of railguns that tore them to shreds. No sooner had one been destroyed, and another would start getting pummeled by projectiles.

Beautiful,
he thought.

Both fleets moved close enough; they effectively merged into a single massive group with ships at different positions and angles. Even in such chaos, the Alliance ships continued to focus their fire on one ship at a time. It was a technique he’d seen the enemy use before, and in such messy situations it made tactical choices much easier. It wasn’t perfect, however, and the Biomechs were already changing their positions to aim at different targets. He watched as multiple groups split off and made for different sections of his fleet.

“ANS Samson is gone!” said Captain Decker, “And Agincourt has lost main power.”

The images on the mainscreen showed three Ravagers moving about the Crusader class ship and hitting the vessel from different sides. The firepower from the much larger enemy ships was superior, and between them they made short work of the vessel. The bow had been torn off, and flames licked through her hull from the innumerable mortal wounds. Anderson looked to the tactical display and how the enemy was changing their attack pattern.

They are working in groups of three, each of them targeting one of our own. This is going to get bloody.

“Sir, shall we assist them?”

Admiral Anderson swallowed. This was the part of combat he hated the most, where he was forced to make decisions that left his own people, damned good people to die. He could split his fire to help the wounded escape, but that would effectively create more deaths by giving the Biomechs more ships and time to fight.