Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (23 page)

Not good.

:::{)(}:::

“Shit. I think Alec goofed,” Jojo said. “Or he's nuts,” she said, referring to Alec Rowland, their Navigational officer.

“Nonsense. Alec took the best of a menu of bad options and did what they could with it. Count your blessings,” Commander Kyle Offenger retorted. He turned to the admiral. “Sir, Garfield and Kelly are still going over what the
Prowler
sent, hunting through our copy of the Horathian war book. They did pass a few things on,” he said.

“Oh?”

“We're too far out to get any hard IDs. The
Prowler
was a bit busy running for its life to get in-depth scans. But what they did get was within a few light minutes of the fleet. Based on that they are projecting a tentative ID on two of the ships. If they are right, that means that we're looking at the First BC Squadron of the Horathian Home Fleet.”

“With what, a division of dreadnaughts to back them up? Any ID on them?”

“No, sir. Not at this time.”

The admiral grimaced. “Okay, keep me posted. How are we doing?”

“Okay, the fleet train is going to be straining to keep up when we get to the loop itself, sir,” his OPS officer replied. “It's a tight turn, and I'm not sure some of the ships can handle it. Especially the bigger ones.”

“Suddenly I'm glad we off loaded all those parts,” Jojo said, shaking her head.

“Why? The factory ship has the extra mass from the bad parts,” the OPS officer reminded her. The Neochimp female grimaced. “Yeah, you forgot. Whatever. Not that it matters,” he said, turning back to the admiral.”

“It just might,” the admiral replied.

“Sir, the enemy has gotten under way. They are setting a course to meet us before we loop the star, sir,” Alec reported emotionlessly.

“See what you can do to boost our speed and the speed of the fleet train, Alec,” Kyle stated.

“Aye aye, sir.”

“We may need to fall back and cover the fleet train, sir. Otherwise, they'll be in the extreme engagement zone of the enemy first. They may even launch fighters against them.”

“Not a pleasant thought. Move our DDron 2 back there to give them additional cover. Order the tin cans to keep their fighters on alert status. They are to fight defensively,” the admiral warned, raising his index finger in warning. “Let the fighter pilots know to stay close and don't stray or they'll get left behind.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Chapter 10

“Our hyperdrive is toast,” Spooky reported. “Chief Pyraven's words. There is no hope of getting into hyperspace—not without a rebuild with parts we don't have,” the A.I. reported dispassionately.

The captain grimaced. He was glad the chief had kept the reactor from scramming, though he wasn't sure how or what black magic the woman had employed to do so. But obviously that magic had its limits. They'd just gotten the sublight engines back. But if they didn't have a hyperdrive they weren't going to escape the star system. And from the looks of the plot, it didn't look highly likely that they'd get to TF2.1 and safety.

“Frack,” Ch'r'kk muttered, overhearing that statement. Then the Veraxin stiffened. “Fighters incoming, 0500 by mark seven sir. It looks like a squadron.”

Juma scowled. He looked frightened. “Sir, what do we do? We can't jump back into hyper and we're in no shape to outrun them.”

“We can't get into stealth, not this close,” Spooky stated. “They have us locked from too many angles.”

“We run,” the captain said, knowing the order had to be given. “We buy them time.”

“Sir?”

“Draw the enemy off the jump point and away from the fleet, as many as will follow,” the captain ground out.

“Sir, heading 180 will take time even with a yaw turn,” Spooky stated carefully. “The fighters have a limited range, but we're well within it,” he said, projecting an estimated flight cone. “Computing course to the outer edge …”

“Then we don't make a turn—not a yaw or pitch turn. We go down their throats,” the captain ordered. “Fast, before they have time to react,” he said.

“Aye, sir,” the dubious helmsman said.

“It'll be the last thing they expect. And it'll force the fighters to slow as they try to make a firing pass. That might buy us some time to get into stealth.”

“If they don't shoot us up on the first one,” Juma said dubiously.

“We take what we can get,” the captain said.

“Spooky, upload the log to the fleet. Then drop a comm buoy with everything we've got. Make it a stealthed one. Set it to broadcast the next time a friendly ship jumps in,” the captain ordered. Append our log.”

“Aye, sir.”

:::{)(}:::

“The
Prowler
has shifted course. She's coming right for us,” Lieutenant Ashton said. “Easy meat,” he said with a grin in his voice.

“Not necessarily,” Lieutenant Commander Zakhan,
Nimitz's
CAG stated. He was starting to regret grabbing the first fighter on the line and not waiting for his trusty double ought to be pulled out of the hangars. Two hundred fighters, bombers, and support craft on
Nimitz
and the one he'd drawn was a blasted
Raptor
. “They know what they are doing. They are trying to drive us further away from
Nimitz
. Cut engines and flip now,” he ordered.

“Sir?”

“Do it!” the commander barked, putting words to action as he cut his drive power and flipped his ship. “Rake them in passing, then we'll kick the engines in. We'll have to get over our initial impulse so they'll get ahead of us. But we'll eventually catch up.”

“Aye, sir,” Ashton said dubiously.

:::{)(}:::

“The fighters have cut their engines. They are waiting for us to come to them it seems,” Spooky reported a beat before the rating did.

“Damn it …” Juma muttered. From the way the man was sweating, Captain Liyang knew the man was under intense pressure. They all were. They all knew the chances of survival were slim to none.

“Steady. We knew the enemy was coming. They don't cut anyone a break though. That's fine. Helm, adjust course. Try to scrimp the edge of their firing angle as much as possible, and then jitter a bit. How are we with our ECM and stealth?” the captain asked.

“Our skin is intact. I'm running black now,” Spooky reported. “We can't run ECM with the drive at full power, however. Our current power budget won't allow it,” he explained.

“Cut drive power back to let the ECM come up. We need to fog them and keep at their extreme range. This just became a cat or mouse game.”

“And we're definitely not the cat. Aye, sir,” Spooky stated.

:::{)(}:::

“Admiral, you may not believe this, but
UFN-001P
has turned and is running into the enemy fleet,” a CIC rating said carefully. “SITREP update: she's completed a starboard bank and is now moving away, sir.”

“But she gave up a lot of ground to do that. Why?” Jojo demanded. “Not that I don't mind the report that the enemy is flying
Raptors
, but it's hardly worth it!”

“No choice. They were facing the wrong direction so they did the only thing that made sense at the time,” the admiral said. He could tell it wasn't going to save them in the end. Not that he was going to say that out loud. It would come out soon enough.

“We can't do a damn thing to help them either,” Kyle growled. The admiral merely shook his head in agreement.

:::{)(}:::

“Sir, the
Prowler
is running down our throats. The fighters were caught off guard. They got a small piece of her but not enough obviously. They are playing catch-up now,” Catherine reported. She looked up from her tablet. “Should I pass an order for
Nimitz
to launch a second flight?”

“The alert five?” Sedrick asked. “It could work.”

“No, Zakhan had his chance. He should have stood off as CAG and directed it from the rear but he got cocky and blood thirsty,” the admiral said. He glanced at the board. “Order DDron 6 to run that
Prowler
down once and for all.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

:::{)(}:::

Like a deer
UFN-001P
darted to and fro on her base course, altering her course at random intervals to keep the enemy off balance and just out of reach. Every minute was precious to her, every duck or successful swerve was something to be celebrated. Unfortunately, the crew didn't have the time or inclination to celebrate such minor triumphs.

Silent thunder wracked the dark heavens as the small ship fended off the baying wolves behind her, and the bears moving in to cut off her retreat. She wasn't fighting for life anymore; she was fighting for something far more precious,
time
. Every second she survived meant one more tick closer to the clock when TF2.1 could escape. Every second meant one less second that the enemy would be in their engagement zone.

But gallantry wasn't sufficient armor from the wolves, nor speed and the federations more advanced tech and training enough to stave off the inevitable. Slowly damage began to climb, to pile onto the already damaged ship to slow her speed every little bit. The damage mounted far faster than her desperate crew's ability to keep up.

Then systems began to fail in a cascade. Just as the overworked systems began to falter the shields, overstressed from the relentless pounding weakened and were breached, opening a hole to her unarmored hull. She twisted, rolling to interpose other parts of her shields less stressed, but the fighters clawed at her, their energy weapons whipped like lashes, their small but still potent missile warheads went off to cleave off and scour away entire sections of her hull where the shields no longer covered them.

But her sacrifice wasn't in vain.
UFN-001P
managed to draw only a tithe away from the jump point. Her run drew all eyes on her instead of TF2.1, allowing them to get on their new course well ahead of the enemy's ability to pick it up and adjust their own to match.

“Comm, give them our updated log,” the captain said from within his suit. They had long lost atmosphere on the bridge.

“We've been keeping up a running log, sir,” Spooky reminded him.

“Ah yes, that we are. Thank you, Spooky. Lay a whisker on them. Give them our updated log,” the captain ordered tiredly.

“We don't have the ability anymore, sir. All exterior comm systems are gone,” the A.I. said regretfully.

“Damn. Well, hopefully it will be enough.”

“Are we going to surrender, sir?” Spooky asked.

“Hell no! I know what they do to prisoners! No, we're going to run. If we can't get away, we'll damn well take one or more of them with us,” the captain snarled. “We'll ram.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Down their throats.”

:::{)(}:::

Ship Captain Lieutenant Commander Red O'Shanasae stroked his red beard as he noted the sudden course change of his prey. It had only one meaning, and since
Daring
was the flagship of his squadron, most likely one target. “Helm, get us out of her path. Guns, take them down. I want that ship burned to plasma,” he growled.

“She's taking fire, but she's got too much acceleration to stop in time,” the navigational officer replied.

“She's breaking up!” the tactical officer said enthusiastically. All eyes jerked to the main screen to see the ship being savaged break up. Her reactor went off and parts exploded in all directions. That set off a cheer on the bridge.

The cheer quickly died when their ship began to take hits. The mass was too much for some of their shields, they buckled and went down. Debris tore into their flanks.

“Bastard scratched my paint!” the captain bellowed, clenching his meaty fists in rage. “Brave but stupid. Damage report! Comm, get a contact report off to
Executioner
!” he spat, looking around the bridge.

“Commodore Eichmann is asking the same thing, sir,” the XO said carefully.

“Well, keep him posted,” the captain growled. He was still dubious about being a flag captain. He could manage a squadron better than most and he knew it. But he'd been saddled with Eichmann. Fortunately, the commodore kept his eyes on the squadron and didn't bother with the day-to-day running of his ship.

:::{)(}:::

“He's defensive. Off balance. We can use this to our advantage. Damn the luck that the scout drew us off! They did too good a job,” Admiral De Gaulte snarled, momentarily ignoring the fact that he had issues with his own ships. Engineering issues he realized, glancing at his status board. Apparently everything was good. No one was reporting a problem.