Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 21

  “Be ready to target those engines, Gunnery,” called out the Tactical Officer.

  “Yes!” Laurent said slapping the side of his chair.

  Then just as the Furious Phoenix was about to bring its port side broadside into line with the Destroyer the Imperial warship’s engines cut out and flashed twice flipping the Destroyer end over end moments before the Furious Phoenix opened fire again.

  “Murphy Wept! Helm, bring us around as soon as port gunnery has had their chance to fire,” barked Laurent.

  “Aye aye, Captain,” said the Helmsman.

  “Captain based on their current course and speed unless we are able to slow them down we’ll never catch up to them,” said Navigation.

  “Belay that and stay focused on the task at hand,” Laurent said and then the port side gun deck opened fire, “Sensors is there any way to cut through this sensor fog?”

  “I’m working to resolve their jamming field but there’s more than just one or two sources. This is going to take some time,” reported a Sensor Operator, a specialist added to the team soon after the MSP’s last run in with superior Imperial jamming technology during the last battle for Easy Haven.

  “Time is something we don’t have,” the Captain grumped as laser blasts thundered through the void all around the Imperial Destroyer.

  Then a pair of heavy lasers struck home causing the Destroyer’s shields to flare, punching through the hull, before the regenerative shielding kicked in spreading out the majority of the drain to shield nodes on the other side of the ship. Unfortunately thanks to Imperial technology the heavy lasers did little more than scratch the Destroyer’s paint job.

  Moving away at top speed and with their targeting sensors being jammed so that it was hard for Gunnery to get a lock all Laurent could do was glare at the screen as the Imperial Destroyer started to reach the end of their firing envelope.

  One by one the broadside of the Furious Phoenix fell silent and then like the finger of the blessed Saint himself reaching out to touch the enemy Destroyers a single Turbo-laser punched across the void and hammered through the Destroyer’s shields.

  “Yes!” said Tactical pumping his fist back in satisfaction before immediately getting back on the microphone and urging the gun-deck to fire again.

  “Enemy Destroyer is experiencing venting and they are now starting to turn,” reported Tactical.

  “I’ve isolated one of the jamming sources it looks like a mobile drone or shuttle of some kind,” reported the Sensor Operator in charge of overcoming the jamming, “I’m relaying best known position to tactical.”

  “Tell gunnery to put a few medium lasers on it,” ordered the Captain, “and give me an update on that Destroyer. Did we hit her hard enough to slow her down?” he asked urgently.

  “Too soon to tell, Sir. All I can say for sure is that they’ve flipped around and engaged their drives,” said Sensors.

  “Blast,” said Laurent as the helmsman turned their ship towards the Destroyer and belatedly tried to catch up.

  While the Furious Phoenix was still struggling to get up to speed half a dozen Corvettes went streaking around her in hot pursuit of the Destroyer.

  “The Phoenix winged her but it looks like the Imperials are going to reach the hyper limit before we can stop them, Captain,” said the Corvette’s sensor warrant.

  Captain Shepherd stared at the holo-screen.

  “Getting that Destroyer across the hyper-limit is one thing. But her captain escaping this star system is another,” said the ship’s captain in a contemplative voice.

  The bridge crew who had been looking down and disappointed immediately perked up.

  “You have a plan, Sir?” asked the ship’s XO.

  “Start charging the hyperdrive and prepared to come to a full stop just outside the hyper limit. She may get out there first but it won’t be by much,” said the Captain.

  The First Officer looked at him and frowned.

  “You’re thinking to follow them to another Star System? But they have a longer jump range than we do, Captain,” said the First Officer.

  “There’s no way we can keep up with her when it comes to jump range. No our only advantage is it takes a Corvette a couple minutes over half the time it takes a Destroyer to jump. That’s our edge and we’re only going to have one chance,” said Shepherd.

  “You don’t mean…” the XO trailed off looking ill.

  “A micro-jump,” said the navigator.

  “We’ve got the best helm team in the entire Corvette force,” Captain Shepherd said confidently.

  “A micro-jump,” the Navigator repeated.

  “Are you up for it?” Shepherd asked.

  The Navigator took a deep breath.

  “I’m going to need some help from the other shifts if we’re going to try this. And I can’t promise anything. This is risky business. We’ll barely have time to calculate the jump as it is and we’re just as likely to scatter far outside the star system as we are to get within anything close to attack range before that Imperial ship gets away,” said the Navigator.

  “We sat out the last war over Tracto. Somebody had to protect the place and that was us. But if we’re ever going to get recognized this is our chance,” said Rick Shepherd, “however if anyone is against this plan let me know and we’ll let that Destroyer slink away.”

  There were a few uneasy looks but no one spoke out against their captain’s plan.

  The XO swallowed.

  “They’ll have to sit still while they calculate their jump. But the only way they’ll be able to do that in safety is if they stay far enough ahead of our Corvettes. Either way it’ll be a gamble,” said the First Officer.

  “I say we try it,” said Tactical and just like that their ship was committed to the micro jump.

  “Two minutes after we cross the hyper limit we’re going to slow down, cut all emissions and go full stealth. We’ll run under stealth speed just long enough to clear our most likely ballistic paths and then come to a complete stop in order to make the jump,” said the Destroyer’s captain.

  “They’ll see us once we start to charge our hyperdrive,” warned the Navigator.

  “They won’t spot us immediately. Not with our stealth system’s engaged,” said the Captain.

  Second Lieutenant Kosher looked up from the Electronics Warfare console.

  “So long as they don’t get too close that should work for the Corvettes, they’re still plinking around with local technology but that Strike Cruiser has military grade Imperial sensors and seems to know how to use them. We still don’t know how exactly they spotted us,” Kosher said with a grimace.

  The Destroyer captain nodded and then turned to damage control.

  “What’s the status on our casualties?” he asked.

  The aging woman sitting with a ramrod straight back at damage control grimaced.

  “Current estimated losses are 33 with another 20 injured. Worse than that we lost both our doctors and at least one of the medical assistants when that turbo-laser punched through the hull,” she reported steadily, “right now all we have left to triage the injured are a pair of aid-stations, and one medical assistant. The other assistants are part of the casualties. Survival estimates for anyone with significant injuries looks dire.”

  “That’s going to hurt,” the XO said with a grimace.

  “That’s life in the Imperial navy,” the Captain said cutting off debate, “take us away.”

  “Bring us to a full stop and prepare to jump,” ordered Shepherd.

  “We’re still extremely close to the hyper-limit,” warned the ship’s Navigator.

  “Ship coming to rest, relative to the system’s primary,” said the Helmsman a minute later.

  “Cut everything but critical systems and dump everything we’re getting from the generator into the hyper-generators, we can run off the emergency batteries and shave several minutes off our hyper jump,” ordered the Captain.

  “Sir that’s a violation of fl
eet regulations-” started the First Officer.

  “Begin your calculations, Nav, and make sure they’re good, we’re already past the point of no return,” said the Captain.

  “Aye-aye, Sir,” said the Navigator putting his head together with both his assistants and beginning to work his console.

  “There they go,” said the Sensor Officer as the Imperials who had just crossed the hyper limit minutes ago cut all emissions and shimmered their sensor profile already starting to fade.

  “This is your chance, boys,” Shepherd said to the trio grouped around the navigation table, one of which was a woman.

  The lead navigator just nodded while his assistants didn’t even bother looking up.

  “Remember this is just like the training exercises I’ve had you working on, just with a time limit,” the Navigator said, “I want each of you to take part of the gravity equation while I work on the stellar coordinates.

  “New estimated time to jump is only three minutes, Nav,” urged Engineering his voice sounding strained

  The two assistants instantly tensed up looking worried.

  “We’ve got this,” Nav said confidently barely showing the strain.

  As the minutes counted down and the navigators still remained furiously tapping away at the oversized nav-plot the tension on the bridge ramped up. Everyone in the room was well aware that while a bad jump could just as easily send them out to the middle of nowhere as into the middle of a rogue planet or wandering star, a failed jump would literally tear this ship apart.

  “Point Transfer in 10-9-8…” Engineering started the countdown while the three navigators started working even faster.

  “Now, Navigation,” ordered Captain Shepherd his voice tight, “Helm extend the baffling I want to be ready to jump as soon as we transfer.

  “Done!” cried the navigator punching a final button and the ship lurched.

  “Sir!” said the Helmsman looking like he wanted to protest but hitting the buttons on his console to extend the baffling anyway.

  “Point Transfer!” screamed the Sensor Officer seconds later.

  “Engines!” roared Shepherd.

  “Going to maximum,” said the Helmsman causing the ship to jerk forward with enough force several people slid across the floor and toward the back wall.

  “Paint them up, Lieutenant!” shouted the Captain, “Find them.”

  “Take us away. All ahead slow,” instructed the Imperial Destroyer’s Captain.

  “Not a problem, Captain. Engaging the gravity-drive now” said the Helmsman taking the ship to a slow and steady 2% thrust.

  “Silent running enabled, all systems nominal. Running self-diagnostics to double check those results now,” said the Electronics Warfare officer.

  “Steady as she goes people,” the Captain said with steady confidence, “remember these are locals and other than that one fluke ship they captured so far it looks like they’ve got nothing that can compare to Imperial technology. We sneak away from her we’re golden.”

  With those words said the bridge settled back into watchful efficiency.

  Then a quickly cut off cry and a blinking red light appeared on the main battle-screen simultaneously. A second later the ship rocked slightly from side to side.

  “Contact,” the sensor officer reported with quick competence.

  “A gravity wave just ahead of the ship impacted our stabilizers the computer auto-corrected,” reported Engineering.

  “One contact reported dead ahead at less than ten thousand clicks, Sir!” the XO said furiously.

  The Captain closed his eyes.

  “Full power to the stealth field,” reported EW emotionlessly.

  “Hot sensors—we’ve just been pinged!” the First Lieutenant at sensors said urgently.

  “Electronic warfare suite estimates our stealth shroud has been compromised,” the EW Lieutenant reported tonelessly.

  “Well that tears it good and proper doesn’t it,” grunted the Captain, “go hot and take the ship to full alert status, Commander. We are combat imminent,” he said to the XO.

  “Battle station aye aye, Captain,” said the Commander, “you all heard the captain,” he roared, “we are weapons hot, bring up the shields, launch combat drones and battle stations for any fool who snuck away to hit the can, this is not a drill. Paint up that Corvette like a Christmas tree and fire when ready Tactical. I say again this is not a drill. We are danger close, people,” the XO’s voice rang throughout the ship.

  “Enemy ship is breaking gravity sump, they must have fired engines the moment they transferred, they’re fast, Sir,” reported Sensors.

  Before the shields had even had a chance to form, the Destroyer’s pair of medium lasers mounted to the forward hull opened fire.

  “Miss! The enemy has already begun emergency evasive maneuvers,” screamed an assistant Tactical Officer.

  “Order on my bridge,” roared the Imperial Destroyer captain as a pair of light lasers lanced out raking the side of the Corvette and causing out gassing but failing to stop the other warship.

  “Opening fire with the close defense chain-guns all starboard and forward facing lasers have been expended,” barked the Tactical Officer as his assistant was approached by the master-at-arms and taken away while a stand by petty officer was slotted into his chair.

  “Roll the ship,” ordered the Imperial Captain.

  The Corvette on the battle-screen took fire from the chain guns and estimates of moderate yellow level battle damage and compromised sensors and shield generators started to show as the shields around the Corvette that were starting to build winked and disappeared.

  The Destroyer had just completed bringing her port fire-power to bear when the Corvette finished slewing around to face them head on and opened fire with a quad of fire linked light lasers.

  The shields which had almost stabilized wobbled as all four lasers struck the same point on the Destroyer and punched through the starboard shield arrays.

  “Minimal damage, no out-gassing, we are still combat effective,” reported Engineering.

  They stabilized a moment later and Captain and crew were just starting to relax when the Lieutenant at the Electronics Warfare station looked up.

  “They hit something critical in the starboard shroud. It will take fifteen minutes to bring back on as the computer recalculates our most effective stealth patterns at which time we will only be an estimated 50% effective. Estimated time to full repair is two hours with a dedicated work team,” reported Second Lieutenant Kother.

  The words landed like a stone in the stomachs of the Imperial bridge.

  “Well that tears it,” growled the Captain after a quick look at the projected courses of all the ships in the star system. There was no way they could slow to a stop and jump out before being hit by an entire squadron of Corvettes now that the stealth system was down. And with their speed already reduced as much as it was in order to deploy the stealth field and find a place to reach a full stop and transfer out, they couldn’t get away. That only left one answer.

  “What are your orders, Captain?” asked the Executive Officer.

  “Turn and fight. I want that Corvette blown out of my skies, XO. After that we turn and beard that squadron of Corvettes. It’s time to show this benighted hellhole what an Imperial crew can do,” he said.

  “We could still get up to speed, fight our way clear and keep going, Sir,” pointed out the XO as the Destroyer went to full power its shields taking hits from the Corvette as its new broadside opened up raking the Corvette from stem to stern, “with some work and if they don’t get our engines, we could just point our nose away from the system primary and keep going. Their smaller units would run out of fuel eventually and we could get far enough away that that Cruiser couldn’t catch us before we could jump.”

  “And turn the Imperial navy into a laughingstock? The Empire’s Navy doesn’t run from a fight, Commander. It picks fights and then crushes the opposition,” the Imperial Captain s
aid dismissively, “no, we will not run, it’s time to show these rubes what a real navy looks like. The order is Red Horizons, Commander…Red Horizon.”

  “Aye-aye, Sir,” said the Commander stepping back and then turning to the crew, “you heard the captain: Red Horizons! No one heads to the escape pods until every weapon on this Destroyer is combat ineffective—and may Man help the these rustics because we surely won’t!”

  “Red Horizons!” cried the bridge crew.

  Captain Laurent glared at the screen as his perfect ambush turned from a farce to a tragedy.

  “The Mini-Surprise just ejected her twin fission piles into space, I’m reading multiple escape pods, she’s gone, Sir,” reported Starspitter.

  “At least she unmasked them for the rest of us,” said the Furious Phoenix’ Tactical Officer with a shrug.

  Laurent’s blood pressure shot through the roof and he glared at the Tactical Officer.

  “We will not be dismissive of any warship’s loss on this bridge, especially one that’s part of our own Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet,” he snapped.

  “Right, Sir. Sorry, Sir, won’t happen again,” said the Tactical Officer hunching his shoulders.

  “See that it doesn’t or I’ll have another Tactical Officer up here so fast your head will spin,” growled the Captain causing the Tactical Officer’s back to go rail straight.

  Shaking his head the captain of the Furious Phoenix took a moment to recover his temper. Yes the Tactical Officer had been wrong but at the same time it was Laurent’s actions that had lead to the destruction of one of Tracto’s defense ship’s, the Mini-Surprise.

  “Murphy only knows if Captain Shepherd and his crew got out in time,” he mumbled.

  “What did you say, Sir?” asked his First Officer.

  “I said; what’s the status of the rest of the Corvette squadron?” he asked.

  “Now that the Mini-Surprise has flushed the Imperial Destroyer out they’re one minute out from a high speed pass. Unless they make cruiser’s and pack them into Destroyer size hulls it’s doubtful the Imperials will survive the pass,” the First Officer reported.