Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Rumors of Honor (System States Rebellion Book 2)
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“I
see. If you sent out ships on commerce raiding with instructions to be back
here no later than nine months from now, how much of a dent would pulling those
ships in later make to our commerce raiding efforts?”

 

This
time Janicot did hesitate. “Well, we’ve been averaging about two FED freighters
crippled or destroyed each month. Given that we’d have to start holding back
our ships in about five months to make sure they’re here when we need them, I’d
say that we’d be giving up the opportunity to take out a minimum of 20 enemy
freighters. But according to Captain Foster’s data, once Makassar starts
ramping up production of ships, they’ll get to the point where they can replace
those 20 freighters very quickly within another two to three years. It doesn’t
take an Oracle computer to see that unless we do something and soon, the FEDs
will eventually just overwhelm us with the sheer number of ships.”

 

Belloc
sighed. “Yes, I understand that, Mykhel. How we deal with that over the long
term is something we’ll have to come to grips with, but what concerns me in the
short term is what’s also in your report. You say that the need to attack
Makassar is so compelling and so obvious that the FEDs are bound to expect it
and will do their best to prepare for it. I can’t help wondering if we’re
damned if we do and damned if we don’t.”

 

“Which
is why we have to strike as soon as possible with a half-decent strike force,
Nathan. I’ve got one of the new 400-meter cruisers already on commerce raiding
duty, and I can have three more operational in ten months. As you know, this
new class has neutron armor which will shrug off HE and KE missile attacks no
matter how many missiles hit. Those four ships can drop down to a low altitude
and pummel the industrial facilities at their leisure, and the FEDs won’t be
able to do anything about it. While the new cruisers are smashing Makassar, our
upgraded patrol cruisers will be attacking command and control facilities on
Hadley. We know that the really important facilities will be buried deep
underground and will therefore be safe from our HE and KE missiles, but
there’ll be plenty of unprotected assets above ground to make the attack
worthwhile. At the very least, the fact that we’ve attacked Hadley once will
make the FEDs wonder if we’ll do it again, and that should divert some of their
resources from offense to defense.” Janicot paused. “You know, Nathan…if we
developed fission warheads, we could even knock out the underground
installations too.”

 

“No,
Mykhel! I’ve discussed that option with the Cabinet and there was unanimous
opinion that the Systems States Union will not be the first to use weapons of
mass destruction on planetary targets, not even military ones.”

 

“Okay,
Nathan. Let’s hope we don’t end up regretting that decision,” said Janicot.

 

 


*  *  *

 

Day
129/2543

Senior
Lieutenant Remington checked the ship’s chronometer again. Twenty-five minutes
left in her duty shift. Twenty-five more minutes of soul-destroying boredom as
Trafalgar escorted the freighter City of Montevideo through the hyper-zone.
This was the last escort mission before being redeployed to Makassar. She
checked the radar scan, which was sending a micro-wave pulse out ahead of the
ship every 10 seconds. There was nothing ahead of them for 1,500,000 klicks.
The freighter was traveling behind Trafalgar. Any threat would be from up
ahead. Both ships were within 100,000 kilometers of the edge of the hyper-zone,
with a velocity of 702 kps. Another 2 minutes and 22 seconds and the freighter
would be able to enter hyper-space. She looked over to the Command Station and
noticed that the Skipper had his eyes closed. He was sleeping on duty, again.
While there weren’t any specific regulations prohibiting the CO sleeping on the
Bridge, it was generally understood by senior officers that it could undermine
the respect the crew had for their CO.

 

She
was about to try to get the Helm Officer to notice the Skipper’s condition when
her Weapons Station console pinged. A ship had just emerged from hyper-space
155,000 klicks away and almost directly in their path.

 

“Unidentified
contact!” she said in a voice that came out louder than she had intended.
Before anyone had a chance to respond, her console pinged again. “That bogey
has commenced active scanning, Skipper.”

 

 If
the CO had been asleep before, he wasn’t now. “Let’s go to Battle Stations and
continuous scanning, people! Lor, program your missiles to target that ship,
which will be designated Tango1, but hold your fire until I give the order,
understood?”

 

“Understood,
Skipper,” said Remington.

 

“Good.
Com, notify City of Montevideo to—“

 

“Missile
launch! Multiple missiles inbound! Too early to tell if they’re targeting us or
the freighter!” yelled Remington. She was about to say more but did a double
take when she checked the number of incoming missiles. Twenty! That couldn’t be
right. Standard patrol cruisers of the kind the Union had captured could only
fire 10 at a time.

 

“Is
that number right, Lor?” asked the CO.

 

She
queried her tactical computer. “Comp confirms 20 inbound, Skipper.”

 

“Son-of-a…”
The CO shook his head in anger. “Okay…we’re obviously dealing with a new class
of warship here. Lieutenant, fire all ten then reload with HE and standby. Com,
notify Montevideo that we’re under attack and that I want her to maintain her
course and acceleration. Trafalgar will be moving in closer. Helm, bring us to
within one klick of the freighter and then match their speed and acceleration.
Keep us between her and the missiles. Understood?”

 

 “Got
it, Skipper,” said the Helm Officer in a voice that was surprisingly calm. At
this speed, moving the cruiser that close to the freighter was not a trivial
task.

 

 

“First
salvo is away!” said Remington. She looked at the main display, which was now
tied in with her tactical comp. Tango1 was almost stationary, moving at only
2.5 kps. A red icon with the number 20 inside it was moving closer. They would
reach the two approaching ships in less than two minutes. A green icon with the
number 10 was moving towards the enemy ship. It would take almost five minutes
to reach her, assuming she would still be there by the time Trafalgar’s
missiles arrived. Remington didn’t think she would be. That was the advantage
of staying outside the hyper-zone. That ship could jump away at literally the
last second. She was sure the CO also understood the futility of firing back,
but he had to try.

 

“What’s
the status of our terminal defense?” asked the CO.

 

“All
six batteries are powered up, tracking and set for automatic fire, Skipper,”
said Remington.

 

After
a brief pause, she heard the CO say, “Set the automatic fire range to maximum,
Lieutenant.” She caught her breath. That was a course of action that was NOT
recommended by the Book. Making the rail-gun cannon fire at much longer ranges
would seriously degrade their accuracy. The Book said let the missiles get
closer to have a better chance of hitting them, but then again, the Navy didn’t
have a lot of actual combat experience with rail-gun terminal defense, so maybe
the Book was wrong.

 

“Fire
range reset to max, Skipper,” said Remington.

 

The
CO must have been reading her mind. “With that many inbound missiles, we have
to try to stop as many of them as early as possible.”

 

There
was no time to respond to that comment. “Terminal defense is firing!” she said.
She switched her gaze to the main display. The missiles were less than 60
seconds away now. The number inside the red icon suddenly dropped to 19. Each
magnetic rail-gun cannon was firing a nickel/iron slug every two seconds. The
slug would be accelerated up to a velocity of 976 kps by the time it left the
gun barrel. It quickly became clear that even with six slugs firing every two
seconds, very few were hitting at this range, but the range was dropping fast
given the combined velocity of the ships and the missiles. With 30 seconds to
go, there were still 15 missiles approaching.

 

Why
isn’t that Union ship firing more missiles?
she asked herself.
That captain
has to know by now that we’ve got terminal defenses. Once that ship micro-jumps
away to avoid our missile salvo, it won’t be able to fire any more.
No
time to ponder that question any more.

 

“Five
seconds to zero range!” There were eight missiles left now. She noticed the
icon number drop to four, and then those four hit. Trafalgar seemed to stagger.
The inertial dampeners couldn’t compensate fast enough for the sudden loss of
inertia. If she hadn’t already buckled herself down to her chair, she would
have hit the Bridge ceiling. Power to Bridge lights and equipment failed but
only for half a second. When power resumed she heard the sound of the proximity
alarm.
They hit us with KEs, but none of them reached the Bridge, thank God!
Then she realized why the proximity alarm had gone off. The force of the
missiles’ impact had pushed Trafalgar backwards and therefore closer to the
freighter by enough to threaten a collision.

 

“Helm!”
That was all the CO had time to yell before the ship shuddered again, this time
surging in the opposite direction. Remington was pushed back into her padded
chair so forcefully that it knocked the wind out of her. As she gasped to get
air back into her lungs, she realized what had happened.
My God! The
freighter hit us!
Status lights all over the Bridge were switching from
green to red. Acceleration had dropped to zero. The collision had apparently
damaged all of Trafalgar’s engines. They still had power and artificial
gravity. Radar was still working too. She checked her tactical systems. Two
missile tubes were damaged. One rail-gun cannon was also off-line. Trafalgar
could still fight, but without the ability to maneuver, she was a sitting duck.
The CO was now conferring with the Engineering Officer. That left her free to
look at the main display. The two icons representing the cruiser and the
freighter were moving apart, although very slowly. Trafalgar was coasting, but
City of Montevideo was still able to maneuver, and she was pulling away. The
display sidebar indicated that the freighter was losing atmosphere.

 

Remington
shifted her focus to their so far one and only salvo. Those missiles still had
over two minutes to go before they reached their target. Tango1 was still
maintaining its vector. Remington shut out the noise around her and
concentrated on the 10 missiles. Tango1 would jump away any time now. She was
sure of that. But when the time to interception hit zero, the ship was still
there. All 10 missiles appeared to have hit the ship, but there was no sign of
any damage. No venting atmosphere and she was still scanning.

 

“What
the hell is Montevideo doing?” yelled the CO. Remington checked the freighter
icon again. It was accelerating again at its maximum rate of 5Gs and therefore
was pulling away from Trafalgar fast.

 

The
Helm Officer answered the CO’s query. “She’s trying to break out past the
hyper-limit, Skipper!”

 

“Idiots!
They should have stayed within our defense zone! Tango1’s going to fire again!”
shouted the CO. As soon as he finished saying it, a new red icon appeared on
the display with the number 20 in it.

 

“Twenty
missiles inbound!” said Remington. She knew her announcement was unnecessary
since everyone could see the new information on the display, but trained to
respond that way she had done it out of habit.

 

“Do
we know what they’re aiming for yet?” asked the CO in a calmer voice.

 

She
checked her console. “Inbound missiles are targeting the freighter, Skipper.”
She saw him hit his chair’s armrest in frustration.

 

“Can
we still fire back, Lieutenant?” asked the CO.

 

“Eight
tubes are loaded and operational, Skipper.”

 

“Then
fire them, Goddamit!”

 

“Second
salvo away! Time to impact is three point three minutes.” It was an exercise in
futility. She knew it. The CO knew it. Everyone knew it. The enemy missiles
would hit the freighter first and almost certainly cripple her. At that point
there would no longer be any reason for the Union commerce raider to stick
around. It could micro-jump away before Trafalgar’s second salvo got anywhere
close to it.

 

That’s
exactly what happened. Twenty hits with kinetic energy warheads reduced the
City of Montevideo to a coasting wreck. The Union ship jumped away, and the
crew of Trafalgar waited for rescue shuttles and a tug to dock with the ship.
Their escort mission had failed. They found out later that none of the
freighter crew had survived.

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