Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (26 page)

“Aye aye, sir.” Catherine frowned a moment as she processed the order then nodded again and passed it along.

:::{)(}:::

Admiral White noted the lack of fire and cocked his head. He had a cool opponent, someone smart enough to wait. He was tempted, but he wanted to throw the man off his game. He also wanted to do some damage and possibly force the enemy to slack their speed. That would count in the later rounds to come. It might be critical. Decision made he nodded once. “If he won't open fire, I will. Garfield, let's see if we can start doing something about those ships. Thin out the wolf pack.”

“Sir?”

“Engagement plan Zeta. Battle Cruisers only, since we've got the ammo to spare. Let's keep it focused on easy targets we can saturate. Don't go for the kill; just make them bleed. Seed some recon drones in the mix while you are at it. Let's feel him out and see what he's got. Make sure every TAC department gets a copy of our feed and helps crunch the INTEL. I'm curious what those big boys have by way of defenses.” He had roughly calculated that the battle cruisers were at about 80 percent of stock. That was a pretty high assessment considering the source. They were running their engines at 75 percent too, which made him wonder what sort of reserve they had.

“Aye aye, sir.” The orange Neocat tapped at his station then nodded. Engagement Zeta was a long-range engagement. It meant he'd be expending missiles and recon drones, but he'd also send in a bit of metal in the form of KEW strikes. The KEW streams would force the enemy to dodge. He frowned thoughtfully as he refined his plan. If he played it right, it might get them to maneuver right into the firing line of his missiles.

After a moment the Neocat looked up and nodded. “Engagement plan Zeta loaded, sir.”

“Then fire.”

“Aye, sir. Firing now. I'm hoping for a golden bee bee, sir,” the cat said. He flicked his ears as a spread of missiles from each of the ship's chase launchers were launched. “Missiles away, sir.” After a moment he nodded again as a fresh report came through. “Recon drones away.”

“Keep dreaming. I like your sentiment but don't count on it. Will we get much of a speed advantage during the loop, Alec?” he asked, turning to the staff navigator.

“Some, sir. They are coming in at a much shallower angle so they won't get as much a boost so we'll get out of their range again. But we'll have to decelerate when we get closer to the jump point in two days, so that'll allow them to overhaul us then.”

“Lovely,” Jojo muttered.

“One thing at a time,” the admiral said. “Alec, put a clock up with the time to the start of the loop. I want all of our fighters and drones back in before that reaches zero,” he said, looking at Kyle.

“Aye, sir, I'll pass the order,” His OPS officer replied dutifully.

“One thing we could do is get cute, sir. We could change the loop. Go into a spiral and throw them off or off on a divergent course. Do the unexpected,” Alec stated.

“Yes, but then they could race to the B-95a3 jump point, and we'd be playing catch-up. Worse, we'd have to decelerate into their fire in order to jump. No, I don't like it, but we'll play the hand we've got now,” the admiral said.

“Aye, sir,” Alec replied.

“Good thought,” Jojo said in compensation. Her Neochimp boss nodded once.

“I thought so too,” Garfield replied. “We could always split their fleet train off and tear it up. That'd put them in trouble,” he said.

“And put our own fleet train in jeopardy,” the admiral replied. “I thought of it too. No, we'll stay the course.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Chapter 11

Admiral White knew that his ships better engines and less mass along with their head start gave them a speed advantage. So long as they didn't have to reef in to let a wounded ship keep up, they'd keep to the extreme range of the enemy's missile basket.

And apparently he wasn't ready to expend missiles at that range. Fine.

He noted Garfield's plan. It was cute, potentially too cute, but it might work. Staggering the launches and running the second set behind the first would make those missiles dependent on the others for their telemetry; their mother ships were too far out to help. By the time they got in range of the enemy fleet, they'd have less than a minute on their clocks.

“Let's see if you outsmarted yourself, Garfield,” the admiral murmured. The Neocat swiveled one black and white ear his way then it returned to half erect status.

:::{)(}:::

“Sir, missile spread and KEWs inbound,” Berney reported.

“Where is … never mind,” Admiral De Gaulte said as Catherine came in. He raised an eyebrow. She just grimaced but ignored the silent inquiry. It wasn't like she wanted to admit she'd had to pee and had been holding it for hours. After a moment the admiral let it slide and turned to the CIC rating. “Numbers?”

“It looks like eighty missiles, sir, capital ship missiles.”

“They fired a broadside from the battle cruisers,” Catherine murmured. “The KEW is probably from everyone. They are conserving their ammunition with the smaller platforms,” she stated.

“Yes, I concur,” Sedrick replied, checking the status. “They've got
Newman
class BCs out there. Ten is about right for a single broadside, sir. Should we answer?”

“Negative,” Admiral De Gaulte growled. “Nav, adjust our course out of the KEW line of fire. Make the missiles work for it.”

“Aye, sir.”

“In the meantime,” the admiral turned to Catherine. “Order the reserve fighters to launch. Let's see if they can handle some of the incoming missiles. Arrange the rest of our ships in defense plan Cappa,” he ordered.

“Aye, sir,” the OPS officer replied. She immediately began to issue the required orders.

:::{)(}:::

“I think it's time we show them how a bomber strike is really done, don't you?” the Neochimp admiral asked as he studied the board. They were going to have only one shot at it before the loop, and hopefully it would be enough to send a message to the enemy to back off. He knew it was a risk, but he had to chance it. He needed to know how good the enemy was, and he needed to pass on a message that his forces were still better.

“Sir? Most of our fighters are reforming. They are low on fuel and expendables. It'll take time for them to be recovered, rearmed, and sent out,” Kyle stated.

“I know. Which is why we're sending the reserves with the bombers.”

“Sir, they aren't trained to cover a bomber wing. And the various bomber wings haven't trained together in a coordinated assault,” Kyle warned him carefully.

“Humor me.”

“Sir, you realize it might be a one-way trip for some? They will have to come about and try to catch up to us. If they take damage, they'll have a snowball chance in hell of getting back alive,” Kyle stated carefully. The Neochimp admiral locked eyes with him. “Sorry, sir, I've got to put it out there, for the record.”

Slowly the admiral nodded. “Understood. Send them anyway. Volunteers only,” he growled.

“Aye aye, sir,” the OPS officer replied, passing the order on.

:::{)(}:::

Lieutenant Commander and
Crystal Cold's
CAG Vasili Zenkov eagerly climbed into his bomber as he rallied his people. It was what he'd been waiting for, what he'd been praying for.

Well, that and the survival of the ships and people out there. Apparently that part he'd gotten. Hopefully he'd get the next part … with a bit of Lady Luck's blessing and some blood and sweat from him and his pilots.

“Move it, people!” he called out from the open hatch to his bomber. He climbed in and then climbed to the cockpit as his bombardier rushed in behind him. The bombardier and ground crew closed and dogged the hatch.

“On Vox, testing one …two …,” the CAG said formally as he climbed into his seat and began strapping himself in.

“Clear.”

“Five by five,” came the responses.

“Bomber OO to Prifly, comm check,” he said as he flicked switches and keyed the initial startup sequence.

“Five by five double oh. Bring us back some Horathian hides.”

“Will do,” the CAG replied as he finished the strap-in sequence. He looked up as his copilot handled her half of the preflight check list. “We set?”

“Yes, sir. It sucked having to sit out that last. But now we get to have our fun,” Anna replied, eyes flicking to the instruments.

“Fun she says,” Vasili mock grumbled as the engines kicked over and the plane boss gave him an extended thumbs-up. He checked his flight surfaces, the brake, and then nodded. “Ready for taxi,” he said over the radio as he reached up to grab his helmet and strap it on.

“Roger. You are up third,” the deck boss reported. The CAG grunted. He glanced to the open void where a plane was coming in. The raptor looked good, no damage he could see from his point of view. She deployed her tricycle landing gear and then touched down on the third wire. Her tail hook jerked her nose down to bounce as she finished her role out at a much slower speed.

Crystal Cold
like
Admiral Raymond Spruance
had an oversized bomber wing of eighteen craft. That made up for the half wings on
Kittyhawk
and
Admiral Halsey
. All forty-eight bomber crews volunteered to make the run. He was proud of them.

He heard a pounding on the hull. He glanced over to see his plane captain standing back. He waved then gave a thumbs-up. Vasili returned the thumbs-up. After a moment the plane captain came to attention and saluted. Vasili returned the salute the nodded once and went back to his checklist just as there was a window in the landings to allow the first bomber to launch.

Ordinarily a
Mitchell
class bomber could carry eight long range torpedoes slung under her belly and stubby wings. But in order to extend their range, the bombers launched with half their load. On two of the hard points, they carried jettisonable fuel tanks.

The extra fuel wouldn't quite get them all the way home however. To extend their range, a quartet of fuel shuttles would be launched at a pre-arranged time in order to meet up with them on their return flight.

Unfortunately, they were going in with a light fighter screen. Only twelve
Cobra
fighters were ready to go with them, and to make matters worse, they weren't from the carriers. They would be launching from the reserves that had been held back on the other ships. Some of the fighters had worked together, but they weren't a trained squadron, far from it.

Still, it was all they had available.

“You know this might be a one-way trip?” Anna asked as they finished the checklist. Vasili glanced at her. The woman seemed nervous. He grunted. “Don't worry about what we can't change.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We're not going to go in too deep. Not on our first pass. It's a firing pass. We kiss their engagement range and then out.”

“Roger that,” she said but she didn't sound too convinced.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye then returned his attention to his instruments.

What bothered him wasn't the threat of death, no, that was par for the course. No, what was getting to him was how quickly they were drawing down on the munitions stored in the CEV's magazines. The distance between the fleets meant they couldn't carry their full loads, which was something of a mixed blessing in his estimation. It meant they couldn't get enough in to saturate the enemy … but they weren't drawing down their limited supply of torpedoes as quickly as they could if they'd had full loads.

Which meant they got to go once more unto the breach and all that. Again.

“Double oh, taxi to catapult one,” Prifly ordered, pulling him out of his woolgathering.

“Aye aye. Double oh, taxiing now,” Vasili responded as he slowly released the brake and then used his yoke to steer the craft into position. He felt a click as the shuttle clicked onto his nose gear. “Hooked up.”

“Roger that. Wait one for a landing,” Prifly stated. Vasili turned to watch a
Cobra
recover on the deck above them. He craned his neck to see it clearly through the canopy. It had some minor scorch marks on her dorsal side but otherwise was good.

“I wish they'd get it over with,” Anna muttered, sitting back in her seat.

“All good things in time,” the CAG replied just as the
Cobra
touched down. After a minute she was unhitched and clear. His eyes went to the red light, then to the launch boss. The woman nodded, signaled him and then waved to indicate the launch was about to commence. She timed it perfectly, dropping to one knee in a crouch and pointing her right arm forward like a blade just as the light changed from red to yellow to green and the kick from the catapult sent them roaring forward into the void.

:::{)(}:::

Commander Meia swore viciously as she received the fresh orders. She'd been so wrapped up in the furball she'd lost sight of the bigger picture. She knew that; she'd kick herself for it later. She'd realized when the bombers launched that she would have to remain behind while the bombers and noobs went in to hit back. She fumed for a long moment as she took a sip of tepid water.