Traitor (Rebel Stars Book 2) (32 page)

The Hive vessels ripped through the drone wall and plunged toward the outermost enemy fighters. Caught off guard by the suddenness of the thrust, these wheeled away, dumping missiles behind them like a squid escaping in a cloud of ink. It wasn't enough. Two FinnTech ships were consumed in the rampaging packs of missiles. Three more boosted away at full burn, barely able to scamper to the safety of the counter-barrage launched by their allies.

Arrayed in a wide chevron, the Hive fleet swept into the defenders. Missiles burst so thickly they often screened out the action behind them. Within moments, the formations grew fuzzy at the edges, ships whirling in and out of momentary dogfights. The Hive fleet recohered, rushing at the gunships that had assaulted the station. For a full minute, the screen was so thick with fire and motion that Rada could no longer tell what was happening.

Then the Hive sucked back, as if drawn out by a tide. The FinnTech fleet pursued, lobbing missiles. A counter in the corner of the screen registered five losses for the Hive, six for FinnTech. The defenders sped away in a ragged plane. As they neared the habitat, many of the FinnTech vessels dropped back, but a cluster of fifteen refused to slow, picking at four damaged ships lagging at the rear of the retreat.

Flames erupted from the full circumference of the habitat ring.

"Sweet winking moons," Webber said. "That looks like the opening of the gate to hell."

A colossal circle of missiles leaped toward the scrum of ships. The Hive's retreat reversed course, swinging about to reengage their over-aggressive pursuit. Corralled by missile fire, the fifteen FinnTech vessels struggled to find a lane out.

Heedless of the streaking ring of missiles, an arm of enemy fighters moved to assist the entrapped ships. After a moment, the remainder of the FinnTech force surged forward in support.

Missiles, drones, fighters, and frigates whirled madly. A dozen different dogfights broke out, both sides fighting defensively. Impressive as the station's salvo of missiles appeared, they became just one more stream in the cataract of rockets. Rada doubted its defenses would be enough to tip the scales. Habitats were too immobile and vulnerable to entrust with significant armament.

It was going to be a slugfest. A fight of attrition. FinnTech's numbers were ticking down slightly faster than the Hive's, but they'd brought so many more to the field that their advantage looked insurmountable.

The fight around the station was still in full swing when the
Tine
entered engagement range.

They'd been braking hard on the way in, but still traveled far faster than the sluggish speeds of the two fleets. Tactical blinked with an iterating array of targets and approaches. Near the fringe of the action, four fighters from both sides looped around each other, lobbing rockets back and forth. Rada adjusted course, speeding toward a tube-shaped ship that wasted none of its hull on affectations like tails or wings.

A sprinkle of missiles headed toward the
Tine
, looking to brush them away. The ship sprayed counters in response. Rada pushed onward, cutting across the lead ship's bow and dropping two of the drones the supply freighter had given them. These were small, with limited engines, but she pressed close, relying on the
Tine
's speed to carry them away faster than the enemy's rockets could close. With the reaction space compressed to nil, the tube-shaped fighter broke hard from the drones' missiles, bringing itself directly into those of the Hive fighter pursuing it. It poofed into a reddish globe.

"Damn right!" Webber pumped his fist at the screens. "One down, two hundred to go!"

"And two drones down," Rada said. "Four left."

"Are you a professional buzz-harsher?"

They were already skimming out of range, curving past the backside of the scrum. She made a tight, MA-augmented turn, coming around to take another shot at the dogfight. A message pinged her device, suggesting/ordering they come about and strafe one of the conflicts closer to the center of the battle. She ignored it, returning to the same dogfight as before, where one of the ships on each side had disintegrated to missile fire. The remaining three-on-two boosted away from the main battle, letting space grow between each other, rockets blossoming between them.

Rada pulled a turn that would have snapped the spine of a normal ship and blatted a volley of kinetics at the lead enemy, inducing it to roll down and to port. It disgorged a stream of missiles, which exploded frighteningly close to its tail, knocking out the rockets converging on it. A lone rocket U-turned ahead of it, hanging there, waiting for the ship to enter its burst radius. The ship swung up, directly into the bullets the
Tine
had snapped off seconds earlier. It vaporized into an expanding cloud of matter.

Now facing a single target, the remaining Hive fighters quickly neutralized it. The
Tine
continued to jet away on its relentless momentum, however, and behind it, the overwhelming enemy fleet continued to pick away at the outnumbered defenders. The count on the upper right of tactical now showed the Hive's numbers at 83. FinnTech had suffered more casualties, but remained at 174, with an equal discrepancy in drones.

The frantic spread of missiles slowed. Both sides were depleting themselves, with the Hive ships relying on rocket support from the station's batteries. The shield drones were now gone—from the rear of the enemy, a gunship hung in space, firing steadily. As ships fought and chased through the vacuum, the bullets raced on, unblockable. They shredded through the ribbon of the station, chunks of plastic and metal spinning away from the impact. A streamer of atmosphere smudged the darkness.

Rada swung the
Tine
about, searching for new targets. At the center of the fight, fighters spun about each other, exchanging projectiles; most moved sluggishly, but perhaps one in ten of the enemy ships maneuvered with the grace of Motion Arrestors. The frigates—which, with their mass, were little more than oversized targets—hung at the rear of the exchange. Was that where the commanders were gathered? More likely, they were filled with marines and supplies. Everything FinnTech would need to take over the Hive.

They didn't have to defeat the entire fleet, did they? All they had to do was knock out the freighters. Without those, the enemy would be unable to seize the station. It might be enough to convince them to withdraw and regroup. Even if they stayed in orbit around the Hive, in the time it took them to bring in replacements, it was possible Toman could rally aid from somewhere—an Earth government that had finally had enough, the freebooters in the Belt, a corporation that feared it would be next in FinnTech's sights. Since releasing the footage of the alien ship attacking the
Tine
, there had been growing support for the Hive. The FinnTech assault could be what finally tipped the scales.

But striking the freighters would mean killing hundreds of ground troops and personnel. She could rationalize that as FinnTech's burden—they were the ones who'd started this war, who'd brought these people to the field—yet she knew she'd feel it, too.

She'd deal with it.

She scanned the tactical display, doing a rough count of support/troop craft. FinnTech was doing a good job insulating them from the worst of the fighting, but if all the Hive's forces turned on them at once…

Beside the main screen, the comm video feed flashed on. Toman sat on the bridge of an expansive ship, face painted by the reds, greens, and yellows of the dozens of screens shining from its desks and walls.

"Friends," he said shakily. "I am honored that you have fought for me. And so sad that you had to. That is why I am both pained and happy to announce that it's time to leave. We're abandoning the Hive. Your orders are attached. More to follow."

The screen blanked. The
Tine
's computer showed a new set of orders, instructing them to skim along the front lines and cover the withdrawal.

"He can't be serious," Webber said. "We just got here!"

Rada smashed her palm on the dash. "We can still do this. What's he thinking?"

"Our team has burned a lot of missiles already." MacAdams gazed up at the screens. "Expect he wants to pull out while we can still defend ourselves. If they chase and we run dry, say goodbye to the entire fleet."

Hating every moment of it, Rada accepted the ship's course recommendation. They swung toward the periphery, rockets firing automatically in response to threats. Behind them, the swirling mass of Hive ships began to shift. The movement's purpose wasn't obvious; some ships flew laterally, gaining speed, preparing to break.

"Least we put up a fight," MacAdams rumbled. "Not much a station can do against a navy that size."

Webber leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. "As brilliant as our fearless leader is supposed to be, his tactics were awful vanilla."

"There hasn't been a fleet action on this scale for a generation. Bet you half the officers ain't even seen live combat. 'Sides, defending a station is like running a race with a ball and chain. Try to do too much, and you're apt to break your leg."

Toman reappeared on the screen, addressing the entire fleet. "You've fought hard and deserve an explanation. We're chewing through our ammo. We can't afford to get to the point where we don't have enough to cover our retreat. Even if I wanted to take that gamble with my life—and all of yours—there's a second fleet on the way. It's from the Locker. And despite our best efforts, it's hostile.

"We could stay and make our stand. Make a statement to the System. Do our best to cripple FinnTech's navy, hoping to slow them down enough for someone else to pick up where we left off. Instead, I choose the option that will allow us to continue the fight ourselves. Partly, this is because I don't trust anyone else to step up and continue it. But mostly? The spirit and bravery you displayed today was too inspiring to only experience once."

He stood from his chair. Rather dangerous, given that he was inside a ship in the middle of a battle with no Motion Arrestor to prevent him from getting pulped by a sudden change in direction. He stiffened and saluted.

"Thank you for believing. Let's get out of here safe. This is only the beginning."

New orders followed. The ships furthest from the enemy turned, flying straight back toward the Hive. Rada anticipated the plan—squeeze past the station, which would fire everything it had to keep the enemy from pursuing. Anyway, no point in leaving unused ammo for FinnTech to capture.

The fleet bulged backward, then flowed in wholesale withdrawal. The FinnTech ships moved in behind them, cautious at first, advancing in a funnel-shaped formation. Within a minute, the edge of the funnel nearest to the Hive boosted forward, firing off a thicket of rockets to drive the defenders away from the station. Missiles launched from the circumference of the ring. Defenders flung rockets and drones behind them. The attackers spread out to buy themselves space, slowing.

Orders flashed across the comm. As one, the Hive's ships punched into full burn. Still bearing more speed than most, Rada looped around the rear of the fleet.

The Hive shrank behind them. Hundreds of explosions played out across the darkness as the FinnTech vessels fought to extract themselves from the swarming missiles.

"Think they'll chase us?" Webber said.

"We bought ourselves a head start," Rada said. "They may not be able to catch up."

"If they try, and succeed, wouldn't it have been smarter to stick with the Hive?"

"Staying at the Hive would have been sure suicide. At least this gives us a chance." On tactical, the enemy fell steadily behind. "The major limitation on speed is going to be how much acceleration the pilots can endure. We're literally running for our lives. Our people will be willing to push themselves harder than theirs."

The explosions in the distance faded to nothing. As soon as the last missiles had been dealt with, the FinnTech armada disengaged from the station, accelerating hard after the retreating fighters. The gap between the two sides steadied. For a few minutes, the distance wobbled between smaller and larger as the FinnTech pilots put themselves to as much G-force as they could stand, then eased off for a quick rest.

Then, as Rada had feared, a contingent of fighters peeled away from the main body of the pursuers, angling to the side, yet steadily gaining ground.

She opened a Needle to Toman. "Rada here. Those ships—they've got MAs. They're going to cut us off. Slow us down. And feed us to the main fleet."

To her surprise, a link opened. Toman was thoroughly gripped by his chair, face distorted by the relentless tug of acceleration. "Got any suggestions for what to do about that?"

"Who, me?"

"You've spent more time flying with a Motion Arrestor than anyone on our side. How do we take them down?"

"There's no magic weapon," she said. "The MA doesn't lend them any weaknesses to exploit. It just makes them stronger."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that."

"Have you tried shooting at them?"

"Okay, okay. I'll figure something out myself." He smiled at her. "You've already done more than I could have wished for. It's always been my philosophy to push people until they fail. That's the only way to learn where their limits are—and they're usually much further than we would have believed. You and your team, though? You haven't failed me yet."

"That would explain why you keep assigning us so many wacky missions."

"I want you to promise me something. If they catch up to us, don't stay and fight. Get out of here."

She laughed in disbelief. "You really expect me to leave you to die?"

"I do," he said. "Because you know that you dying with me wouldn't solve anything. You can still be useful. You three are heroes. You can take that status and use it to convince the System to stand up."

"Because we've been so effective as a PR miracle so far."

"It will be different. Before, we knew the Swimmers were out there, but we didn't know what they wanted. This time, we don't know who Those are—but we're damn sure they don't mean us well. Promise me."