Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil (18 page)

Finally his eyes
were drawn to the screen as one of the torpedoes exploded brilliantly where the
blasts from two different point defense turrets converged with the weapon's
flightpath.  He breathed a sigh of relief that was quickly forgotten as he saw
the motion of the two remaining weapons darting through the blackness.

"We're going to
beat them there at this rate," the navigator announced solemnly.  It was a
blessing and a curse; they knew that winning this particular race wouldn't win
them the sort of prize anyone wanted.

Avenger was finally
underway towards the transports, the comms officer frantically trying to raise
the motionless vessels to tell them to do something, anything, other than just
sitting there.

It had taken too
long to turn, Loren knew, but there was nothing that could be done.  With the
port side main forward maneuvering thruster destroyed, the helmsman had been
forced to use the portside main engine thrust reverser to rapidly alter
course.  The smaller attitude thrusters just couldn't do the job alone, and
while the helm officer had quickly gotten the hang of cracking open the
reverser, Avenger was simply too far behind to offer any real help.

"Got one,"
Caho called out, clenching her fist in triumph.

"Renner's ship
has a confirmed kill on one of the torpedoes," Loren heard another
crewmember agree after the ship's computer had relayed the sensor data into the
main holo field which Loren was studying.  He was at the railing between the
helm stations how, leaning almost into the slightly-thrumming holographic field
as he watched the tiny red torpedo icons juke and dodge as Renner's destroyer
race to place itself in front of the transports.  Bright red streamers of laser
light reached out from the ship towards the weapons, but their computers were
damn good at their jobs and they avoided the fire, usually by just a
heartbeat.  It was enough, though.

Only Caho thought to
look at Loren's knuckles, white with tension as he grabbed the metal bar that
prevented people from walking into the holo field.  She knew his friend was on
that ship; it must be impossible to watch someone in a situation like that and
know that one could do nothing to help.

Finally, Loren
noticed a pattern to the destroyer's defensive fire; it seemed like they were
trying to drive the torpedoes towards each other, to keep them close together
instead of letting them run wherever they wanted.  The point defense fire just
wasn't working well enough, so instead of fruitlessly trying to destroy the
weapons, the Lemurian ship was trying to shepherd them towards...

No, you wouldn't
,
Loren thought.  But they were.  With their defensive turrets unable to shoot
down the torpedoes, Renner was trying to steer the torpedoes down a specific
path- right towards his ship.  It was probably the only way they'd be able to
set off the weapons before they got to the transports, but knowing that was no
comfort to Loren.  Whether the Priman torpesoes changed targets or just ran
into the place where Renner
’
s
destroyer was, the effect was the same.  The first one struck amidships, the
second was a second behind.  Loren couldn't see if the second one hit the
destroyer or was set off by the debris from the initial explosion, but it didn
’
t matter.  Two torpedoes
detonating against the thin hull of the destroyer was no contest; there was a
blinding flash as the warheads detonated, setting off the oxygen, drive fuel,
and what munitions remained aboard the doomed ship.  When the blast faded, the
Lemurian ship was for the most part gone; the majority had simply been
vaporized by the titanic forces involved in the explosion. 

Loren's eyes darted
around the main holographic field to take in the situation.  There was small
comfort in the fact that the transports were safe from enemy fire and all the
remaining Priman ships were drifting powerless.  That didn't do anything to
lessen the grief that threatened to crash down on him with the loss of Captain
Renner and essentially the entire Lemurian Navy.  He'd lost friends before, of
course, and would do so again before this war was over.  It didn't make it any
easier, though, especially since Renner had made the sacrifice on purpose,
knowing what was about to happen to him.

"All Priman
forces secured, Commander," Lieutenant Caho reported softly from her
station behind Loren.

"Understood." 
Loren hadn't moved, still stood hunched over the railing staring at the holo
field as the action slowed down.  He wanted to just turn command over to
somebody and busy himself with something that would keep his mind distracted,
but he couldn't, not now.  In fact, it was probably going to be up to him to
try and pull things back together.  Majestic was holding station with Cobalt,
both ships looking like they'd run through an especially evil meat grinder. 
Their datalink signals were erratic, but what they showed was not good.

Taking a breath to
gather himself, he straightened up and turned to face his bridge crew.  They
were no doubt expecting him to have the answers, to be in charge and ready to
deal with the situation.  Captain Elco set a high standard, and Loren would
have expected Elco to get right back to business, so he was going to have to do
the same and hope he measured up.  Speaking of the captain...

"Lieutenant
Caho," Loren said, authority in his voice again.  "As soon as you
can, I want you to hit the capitol with every sensor you have.  Also the
military base on the edge of the city where the captain was when this all
started.  I'd like to think they had some sort of shelter for their people, so
find out everything you can about that base and the heart of the city."

He turned to the
helmsman who'd become so adept at steering the big ship with her thrust
reversers.  "I need you to put us in orbit above the capital city so Caho
can do her thing.  Just do the best you can; I know maneuvering's going to be a
bitch."

"Comms,"
Loren continued as he walked over to the station.  "Start scanning
Lemuria.  See if you can find anyone down there who claims to be in charge. 
Also keep an ear on the military frequencies, especially the base where the
captain was trapped."  He started to move, then spun around.  "Oh,
and see if you can get through to those transports and tell them to do
something,
anything
, other than sitting there acting like targets.  Tell
them the system is clear and they should take their refugees out and get back
on schedule; this system needs to be evacuated right now."  Almost as an
afterthought, he quickly added, "and see if you can contact Majestic or
Cobalt.  Majestic has operational command, so if they're in the game we'll hand
off control to them.  Until then, we'll assume we're taking the lead."

Loren trudged back
to the captain's chair where he'd sat for most of the battle.  Not wanting to
let his mind wander lest he not get it back on track, he keyed the button for
C3.  Lieutenant Commander Mastruk's face appeared, looking tired but otherwise
alright.  "Sarria," Loren began, "you have the unenviable task
of presenting a damage report and mission readiness brief.  Let me know when
you're making progress; it looks like Avenger is going to be coordinating
things above the planet for a while, so we're going to be busy up here, but
once we get the Confed forces gathered together we're all going to have to take
stock of the situation."

"Yes sir,"
she replied quickly, then waited for Loren to sign off.

Then Loren did sit
back, allowing himself just a minute to try and prepare himself for what would
come next; damage reports on Avenger as well as Majestic and Cobalt, trying to
determine if anyone was still in control on Lemuria, and finding Avenger's
captain.

Sirian Elco had
never been trapped like he'd been in the bowels of the Lemurian military base,
but if he'd been looking to pick up a phobia it sure as hell could have been
one of confined spaces after the time he'd had.  There had been another partial
collapse in the room adjacent to the command center which had led to a fire and
necessitated the evacuation of the space.  He'd helped General Horle stumble
out of the command center amid the confusion and now waited with him just below
ground level beneath one of the main hangars of the base above.  Well, it was
where one of the hangars
had
been.  There was no telling what was there
now, and that was only part of the problem.

The few personnel
who'd made it this far were all weary and wounded.  There was no way to
communicate with the rest of the underground facility, much less on the base
above.  For all they knew, there were Priman troops on the ground ransacking
the planet right now.  Horle had ordered that getting out of their bunker was the
most important item, before the underground space became their permanent home.

To that end, Elco
watched as a group of three soldiers put the last touches on the hole they'd
been cutting through the armored exit vestibule with a pair of torches.  There
were tiny sections of material on opposite corners holding the plug in place,
just waiting the General's command to be cut free so the section of armored
wall could fall outwards and give them a way out.

Horle gestured to
Elco to help him stand up, and Avenger's captain obliged.

"It's days like
this that can make a man feel old," Horle muttered at he reached up with
his hand and pulled down on Elco's shoulder in order to straighten his posture.

"On your
command, General," said on of the soldiers who'd assembled by the plug in
the wall.  Elco held his SSK at his side, though he doubted he'd be of much use
while helping the general.  Still, he looked at the gathered troops, beaten but
not defeated, and realized all was not necessarily lost.  If they could find a
ship and make it away from the city, they might be able to even break orbit and
make for deep space to tell everyone what had happened here today.  But first
they had to clear the base topside.

"Alright,"
Horle growled, "just like we briefed earlier.  Everyone gets out topside. 
First goal is to secure the hangar above, then we start looking for
transportation.  If there are Primans out there, this will be a short mission,
but we'll make them pay as best we can."

The general nodded
at the soldiers with the cutting torches, who quickly burned through what was
holding the plug in place.  Another soldier put his shoulder into the center of
the plug and started it toppling outwards, where it landed on the metal decking
with a nerve-wrackingly loud crash and a cloud of dust.  Through dim emergency
lighting and a room that had already been choked with floating dirt and debris,
Elco could barely make out the skeletal staircase that ascended to the surface.

"Move!"
one of the troops commanded, and everyone stormed up the stairs and on to
whatever awaited them above.

 By the time Elco
and Horle stumbled out the remains of the room that had hidden the staircase,
everyone else had fanned out and secured the skeletal carcass of the building. 
The roof was punctured by three massive holes from orbital laser blasts, and
what was left was warped and buckled.  Elco was surprised it was still up
there, and realized that this building wouldn't provide safe shelter- they've
have to keep moving, and quickly. 

There had been some
sort of offices at the rear of the hangar which had been destroyed by fire, as
well as two large atmospheric troop transports which had also burned to the
ground, leaving behind not much more than wing ribs, spars, and  scorch marks.

The general's soldiers
were moving through the wreckage quickly, looking for any survivors or
equipment they could use.  One or two stopped for a moment to gawk at the
destruction, the pall of the overcast sky created by all the atmospheric
contaminants the Priman bombardment had kicked up into the air, but were
quickly straightened out by a few stern looks.

Elco looked around
for himself, squinting not against what should have been a midday sun but all
the soot that was getting in his eyes and causing them to water mercilessly. 
It looked like a volcano had erupted, such was the amount of debris floating in
the air.  It was also eerily quiet, the kind of sound-sucking quiet that was
found in holo theaters that were designed to be acoustically dead.  He'd
already holstered his SSK, and snapped the fingers of his free hand.  There was
no echo; it felt like the sound ended an inch from his fingertips.

"So this is
what the Primans do to those who oppose them?" Horle said quietly.

"Lately,
yes," Elco replied.  "That's why we came; to try and help you.  I
don't honestly know if we did any good or made it worse for our efforts."

"I'm glad you
were here," Horle said, fixing Elco with a steely-eyed glare.  "It's
nice to know we have a few friends at least."

Elco was about to
reply when he heard the unmistakable whine of lifting jets and thrumming
antigrav fields. 

"Yours?"
Horle said hopefully.

"Sounds like
it," Elco said hopefully, "but Priman tech is a lot like ours and
I've never heard one of their transports.  It wouldn't hurt to take up
defensive positions."

"For what it's
worth, eh?" Horle said grimly.  "Alright everyone!" he began. 
"Defensive perimeter, right on this spot!"  Everyone gathered back
towards their leader.  They formed a ring immediately around the burned-out transport
he'd been standing by, as well as another one a little bit further out in order
to give them two layers of defense.  The collection of wounded fighters
wouldn't do much against a coordinated Priman assault, but Elco admired their
inability to give up.  He resumed his job of bracing Horle, drew his SSK and
leveled it at what passed for the main hangar doors, and waited.