Read Valkyrie Rising (Warrior's Wings Book Two) Online
Authors: Evan Currie
Valkyrie Rising (Warrior's Wings Book Two) (34 page)
Caught by surprise, the alien ships were rocked by nuclear fire, and for a moment Nadine had hope that things had gone beyond their best case scenario for perfection. Then she noticed one of the unknown class of ships had vanished from her plot.
Hurriedly, she called up the history of its action, eyes following it as it dove into the planet. Then she glanced up at the live plot to see another vanish around the planet, and the other two on course to follow.
Nadine slapped open the command com. “All captains, watch for ships coming around the curve of Hayden! I say again, enemy ships are performing a slingshot around Hayden!”
She cast her eyes to the plot and paled as she realized that, by the time the alien ships came around the world, they would be caught in a pincer. For just a few seconds, they would certainly be between the guns of two groups of starships, and neither were likely to be feeling particularly charitable at the time.
She keyed open a com to half her ships, the ones closest to the likely path of the second group’s approach. “Redirect fire to intercept them as they clear the planet.”
Those ships fired thrusters, fighting to bring their weapons to bear in time. They just made it as the first hint of the dark ships appeared around the edge of Hayden, and they opened fire at their new targets.
The ships of the squadron were shocked when their fire was answered in kind, blazing blasts of energy racing back across space toward them in dazzling, rapid fire. For a few seconds, they were at a loss. Staring at a weapon that actually looked familiar to them in some way jarred their minds, as they were expecting the invisible crushing killer of the gravity valve.
The first blast struck the HMS Longbow along her port side, annihilating her ceramic plates as they detonated their active countermeasures. The ship shuddered, but the active armor worked as the shaped charge of plasma blew out and destroyed whatever the enemy blast was.
“Evasive action!” Nadine ordered over the com.
The squadron began to break up, drives now flaring in response as more of the enemy pulse fire raked their hulls and the gravity event alarms began to sound as well.
The Kiowa Warrior shook and then was crushed like a tin can under the pressure of an enemy valve, and then a raking blast of pulse fire caught the Longbow along her naked flank where the active armor plates no longer protected and holed through. She vented atmosphere and bodies a moment later, peeling away from the blast either from the force of explosive decompression or the impact itself.
Nadine sent out new orders, most just modifications on her original plan, and watched as the ships formed up around the USF Cheyenne and the HMS Hood. They fired their VASIMR drives and drove into the enemy at their front, pushing away from the ships coming about to flank them, tubes still firing as the ranges closed so tightly that she knew to blink would be to miss the entire passage.
It was then, though, at that last second, that one of the enemy captains did something so insane that she would have been stunned into inaction even had she the time to react. They swung about directly in front of the Cheyenne, either by some suicidal impulse or sheer incompetence, and all she could see was the gleaming white of their hull filling her screens.
“All hands,” Captain Roberts’s voice called over the com, sounding so oddly calm in that moment. “Brace for impact.”
It was automatic, she supposed. It had to be, since there was no way to brace for what was coming, but it sounded good.
The nose of the Cheyenne punched through the enemy ship like it was made of tissue paper. The Cheyenne class, like the Los Angeles ships before, were cast-iron construction made from a single, huge asteroid that had been melted down and shaped through centrifugal force. Her armor was a meter-thick ceramic composite, backed with shaped explosive charges to defeat plasma weapons. Her hull, however, was over a dozen meters thick in places and composed entirely of cast-nickel-iron.
The alien ship was built of super-strong, but lightweight, composites unknown to Earth technology.
Pound for pound, the alien ship was immeasurably stronger and more resilient. However, it massed a mere two million metric tons. The much smaller Cheyenne weighed in at over fifty.
The result was a sudden and catastrophic failure of the alien ship as the Cheyenne punched through her armor and inner decks like a bullet through cardboard. Ceramic plates exploded as they passed, causing additional (yet totally superfluous) damage and calamity within the doomed ship.
Then the ragged and tattered hull of the Cheyenne, still completely intact and spaceworthy, exploded out the other side as the alien ship died in her wake.
Nadine was stunned for a moment as she saw stars again on those screens that were still active.
We didn’t actually just do that, did we?
“Damage control teams to port side, forward! Damage control teams to starboard side, forward!”
I guess we did.
She shook herself, pushing it aside. She’d hyperventilate over it later.
“Captain, can we survive atmospheric entry?” she asked tersely.
“I’d advise against it, ma’am. Our heat shields are
gone
!”
“Understood. Standby to bring our tubes about to bear on our pursuers then.”
“Aye, ma’am. Coming about!”
As the ship slowly twisted around, Nadine was treated to an image of the devastation in their wake. The ship they’d plowed through was nothing but scrap now, obviously, but the disastrous pass had left enemy and ally aflame in their wake. Three other ships of the squadron were down and gone, their icons vanished from the plot, but so were the majority of the enemy ships. One of the new class ships was burning as it drifted close to Hayden, and all but two of the others were floating unresponsive in the planet’s orbit.
My god. Did we really do that?
The sheer level of devastation was such that she almost couldn’t grasp the death she had wrought, even only in human terms. The alien losses had to be astronomical, but they were so unreal to her just then that she had to stifle a giggle at the enormity of it. Nadine was self-aware enough to know that she was likely slipping into shock and just hoped she could keep a grip until it was over.
One way or the other.
“Captain. I don’t believe that there’s any point running now.”
“No, ma’am,” he said in reply over the com. His voice came over the ship-wide a moment later. “All hands, brace for acceleration.”
The Cheyenne’s drives flared first, but one by one, the remaining squadron members of the slyly nicknamed Taskforce Valkyrie lit their drives and began to decelerate right into the faces of the few survivors of their death dive. As their weapons once more began to belch flame and death, it quickly became clear that the enemy had no more stomach for the fight.
The five remaining ships that could move, or at least limp, turned tail and began to accelerate out of orbit and head for deep space.
Nadine stared for a moment then reached for the station controls. She had to slap her hand twice to keep it from shaking.
“All hands…we’ll be decelerating into Hayden orbit, where we will remain while damage control proceeds. I have never been more proud to serve with anyone before in my life, and I sincerely doubt that I will ever surpass that no matter how long I live.”
She took a few breaths, willing her heart to stop beating in her chest, and then signaled FOB Hayden.
“FOB Hayden, this is Task Force…” Nadine paised, a quirk of a smile on her lips, “Valkyrie. We hold the orbitals. I say again-”
As she spoke by rote she briefly wondered what they’d think of her taking on the mantle others had directed at her and her crews with snide undertones in the past. There was nothing to be ashamed of in living up to the name and, by the Gods if they existed, Nadine was certain her crews had done just that.
*****
FOB Hayden
Kayne was in shock when he heard Brookes’s voice come over the com lines.
“… I say again, FOB Hayden. This is Taskforce Valkyrie. We hold the orbitals.”
He stared for a moment then dove for his station.
“Get the Cougars and the Excaliburs back in the field!” he growled. “All ready teams are to deploy immediately! Transports, get ready! We’re moving on the old colony site!”
*****
Old colony site
Kriss stared at his coms for a moment, unable to believe the last message that came through before everything went dead.
How did a fleet get so close without being seen?
He was still stunned when the first sonic shockwave woke him from his stupor, and he looked up to see the low angle contrail cross the sky.
Damn! They hold the orbitals, and they knew we can do nothing about it.
The resumption of the long-range fire was proof of that. No way they would risk exposing those weapons with Fleet ships in orbit, but now there was no support coming for him. No pickup either.
Kriss snarled, signaling his men. “Fall back and regroup! Fall back!”
He signaled the remaining Ross Ell and their Porra guards. He would need every hand, claw, and mind he could get for what was coming. They didn’t have the forces to secure the world, but these people had no idea what a Lucian could do when there was nothing left to lose.
He would fall back into the jungle. The first goal was to secure their landing craft and the supplies and equipment within. It would do them no good to leave the world in it, since it was a local craft only, but they would need those materials.
When they had secured a safe place to use as a base and determined what, if anything, they could eat on this world…well, then they would do what Lucians did.
They would wage war.
*****
“They’re falling back. What the hell is going on?” Mack mumbled, confused.
Sorilla shook her head but didn’t answer. Instead, she consulted her map of the base fiber lines and found a sensor point near their position. She broke off from the group and quickly linked into it, consulting the battle network.
“Holy shit,” she whispered over the team link.
“What is it, Master Sergeant?” Commander Conroy asked as he approached.
Sorilla looked up to where the fireballs in the sky were dying down, being replaced by trails of smoke as debris was flung into Hayden’s atmosphere to burn.
“They did it.”
“Who? Taskforce Five?”
Sorilla grinned.“I think they want to be called Taskforce Valkyrie now, sir.”
About the Author
Evan Currie is the self-published author of four books, Thermals, On Silver Wings, Valkyrie Rising, and Odyssey One. A long time fan of science fiction, his love of epic storylines led him to put several million words onto the net in the pursuit of fanfiction stories, and eventually led to the novel you just finished.
You can connect with Evan Currie online at :
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Or at his home on the net :
http://www.tenhawkpresents.com
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