Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering (44 page)

The Confederate battle plan called for Admiral Kalis’ blocking force to await the enemy’s initial blows, at slightly worse than 3:1 odds. A couple of scout ships were stationed to either side of Ginia, positioned to relay laser communications to Kent. At an advantageous moment, Kalis could tell Kent exactly when and where he wanted Kent’s TF-22 to appear in the ongoing melee and what his targeting priorities should be.

Kent would be attempting something rarely tried in space warfare… a timed jump of approximately 9 seconds at minimum hyperspace speed of 10c that should place Kent’s units very close to 1st Fleet. Kalis’ exact orders would require a recalculation of the jump time, but once again, the Fleet’s master computer gave the maneuver a better than 79 percent probability that Kent could execute it successfully. Kent’s arrival would improve Kalis’ numerical odds to just under 5:2, but the element of surprise, and placement where Kent’s arrival would be most advantageous, was expected to increase the impact of these fresh units.

The remainder of Thorn’s 2nd Fleet would remain hidden within the asteroid belt. After the Union Fleet passed by, Thorn’s ships would then ease into position directly astern of the Union fleet, where their own fusion plumes would distort their aft sensor scans, effectively hiding 2nd Fleet as it shadowed them deeper into the Ginia system. Admiral Thorn would nominally wait for Admiral Kalis’ signal to attack the Yankees from behind, she also but had the option of attacking at her own discretion, should it appear advantageous from her perspective astern of the Union Fleet.

Whenever Thorn jumped into the fray, the two attack carriers and four light carriers of 2nd Fleet would add another 460
Raptors
and
Demons
coming in by surprise from astern, bringing the numerical odds up to almost 3:2 in ships and bringing the total number of Confederate fighters up to near 1,400. It was a bold and complex plan. Hopefully, Joe Bishop was in for at least three really nasty shocks today, but battle plans rarely survive first contact with the enemy.

Admiral Joseph R. Bishop, commanding officer of the Alliance Grand Fleet
,
lurched in his command chair in the combat information center of his flagship, the attack carrier USS
Enterprise
. The gut-wrenching effect of hyperspace transition was something no human being would ever come to enjoy, but it seemed to create an especially nasty backlash in Bishop’s tender stomach.
God, I’ll never get used to that!
The Grand Fleet was the largest single attack force ever assembled in the annals of space warfare, virtually three normal fleets, plus transports carrying tens of thousands of Fleet Marines, combined into a single cohesive force… and it all belonged to Joe Bishop.

“Transition complete. Initiating long-range scanning now, Admiral,” announced the ensign manning the scanner station.

“Very well,” Bishop responded reflexively. “Verify arrival of all units and inform me if we lost anyone. Head straight into Ginia at full in-system speed for 10 minutes and then throttle back to half.” The LTJG manning the comm forwarded the admiral’s orders to the rest of the portion of the fleet, which had arrived with
Enterprise
.

“Arrival 3½ light-minutes out from Ginia is confirmed, Admiral. Our second wave should be arriving within the next 10 minutes,” announced the
Enterprise’s
CO, Captain Lionel Starkey. The Grand Fleet had been broken into four waves to help assure the safe arrival of so many ships transitioning so close together. Warships comprised the first three waves, with the transports and support ships bringing up the rear. The transport wave wouldn’t arrive for almost 24 hours, allowing the Grand Fleet sufficient time to dispose of the mutineers and take out any other defenses the rebels might have cobbled together. No sense letting anyone get a free shot at unarmed transports full of Fleet Marines.

About four minutes later, the ensign manning the scan station announced, “Admiral, multiple contacts bearing 178 by 003, almost directly ahead… range two light-minutes. Looks like the mutineers, sir. The number appears about right.”

“Very good, Ensign,” responded Bishop. “Get me an exact number on those enemy vessels.” Bishop tended to speak a bit less abrasively now that it was all Northerners who surrounded him, but it was doubtful that Bishop ever noticed the fact. “Helm, adjust course to 178 by 003.”

“178 by 003 aye, sir,” the helmsman acknowledged.

“Admiral, that course will bring us dangerously close to that asteroid belt, eighteen light-seconds ahead,” said the
Enterprise’s
Captain Starkey.

“You may maneuver a bit to avoid hitting any of them, Captain, but I want as direct a course as practicable, directly towards that group of traitors there ahead of us,” responded Bishop. “Advise the fleet to that effect.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The first wave of the Union fleet slowed to allow the second wave to catch up, and then both slowed still further to allow the third wave to join and take position. Bishop wasn’t going to initiate battle without everything he had, striking together in one massive hammer blow.

Forty-six minutes after the Union’s first wave arrived, all three waves of the Union Grand Fleet formed up into a single massive formation, which passed close abeam of the Ginia asteroid belt. None of them saw any of Thorn’s ships hiding there. They saw exactly what they expected to see, dead ahead of them. Neither did they notice any of the ships easing out of the asteroid belt and into their plasma shadows, right behind them.

“
Uh…
God, how I hate that!” exclaimed Aline McCauley.

“Oh, quit bitching, Aline,” said Ruby Demedicci. “You ought to be used to it by now after — how many hundred times have you been through transition now?”

“I’m not sure anyone could ever get used to
that,
” said Daniel Simmington.

“Never seems to bother J.P. over there,” observed Robert Eastman
.

J.P. Aneke had invited the entire Consortium Executive Board to accompany him to the Ginia system aboard his personal space yacht. Dozens of personal spacecraft of all sizes, occupied by Northern politicians, business executives and the idle rich, were also emerging into normal space four light-minutes away from Ginia and about forty-five minutes behind the Alliance Grand Fleet, based on classified information obtained by the shadow president himself. Congressmen and the cream of Waston and Nork society were all flocking to the Ginia system to personally see history in the making. It wasn’t every day you got to see an insurrection put down by the Alliance Fleet. The multitude of fusion plumes visible directly in front of them made an awesome sight.

“Captain,” intoned J.P. Aneke into his intercom. “Follow the fleet directly in front of us at our best speed possible. I want a front-row seat when those rebellious Southerners get what’s coming to them.” J.P. touched his console and zoomed the view screen to maximum magnification.

By the time the Union fleet came within one light-minute of the Confederates, Joe Bishop launched every fighter he had. The earliest fighters to launch circled ahead of the fleet, while the rest of their brethren continued blasting themselves out of the launch tubes. Tankers were also launched to refuel the early birds, so all would have nearly a full fuel load when they turned for the Confederates. Within 58 minutes, almost 1,400 union fighters turned towards the Confederate fleet, with only a bare 200 held in reserve for defense of the carriers.

Admiral Kalis waited until the Yankees had been launching for 40 minutes before ordering his fighters out. 690 Confederate
Raptors
and
Demons
were launched into space within 16 minutes... much faster than the inexperienced Yankees. The Confederate fighters broke into two groups, standing off at the periphery of the Confederate fleet.

“
Ooh
, are all of those small plumes appearing from the big ones fighters launching, J.P.?” asked Aline McCauley.

“Yes, just watch. There will be almost 1,600 of them by the time they finish launching.”

“How many fighters do the rebels have?” asked Ruby.

“According to Fleet calculations, no more than 690,” answered Aneke.

“How confident are we that our Fleet will beat the rebels?” asked Morgan Rainey. “Being this close to a real space battle makes me nervous.”

“Fewer than 70 ships to over 200 of ours. Better than 3:1 in ships and better than 2:1 in fighters,” replied Aneke. “You’re a banker. Do the math for yourself, Morgan.”

“What’s going on, skipper?” asked Lieutenant Mark Cortez, piloting a
Mustang
in the Union’s lead wing. “Those destroyers out there have had us in fire-control lock for several minutes now, but none of them have thrown any flak our way.”

“Probably want us to take the first shot,” answered the Flight Leader, LCDR Mathew Baldwin. “Now shut up and maintain radio discipline. Just keep boring in on those carriers.”

Flying right past so many warships without a shot being fired felt somewhat ominous to the Union pilots, as they penetrated the Confederate defensive globe. Not that anyone was actually complaining about the lack of someone shooting at them. Were the Confederates just going to give them a free pass right through to their carriers?
Spooky.
Onward came the Union fighters, until they finally achieved fire control scan-lock on the enemy carriers. Just after they launched their first wave of anti-ship missiles and watched them streak away towards the enemy carriers, their targets… disappeared.

“Multiple zombies! They have fire-control missile lock on us, Captain,” yelled Lieutenant Bart Gomez, manning the electronic-countermeasures console in the ECM shack, just off the CIC. He’d used the ship’s intercom, but hadn’t actually needed to... he’d yelled loudly enough to be heard clearly at the captain’s station.

“Very good, Gomez. Let me know when they put birds in the air,” answered Captain Jennifer Stallings, commanding officer of the CSS
Lexington
. Of course there was no actual “air” out there, but that was another odd expression that seemed to have just carried over into the modern language from ancient days on old Earth.

Seconds later, Gomez yelled, “Vampires… multiple vampires! I’ve got missile scans coming right at us, Captain.”

“Did you get the time-stamped recordings on that launch, Gomez?” Stallings asked.

“Yes ma’am. Recordings locked.” Gomez yelled back.

“Helm, execute tachyon transition. Get us the hell out of here,” yelled Stallings.
And then the universe turned inside out.

The Federal pilots watched in confusion as their missiles lost lock on their targets... targets that acquisition scan said weren’t there anymore. While those bewildered leading fighters finally started to swing around, the Confederates verified they had captured hard evidence of the Alliance fighters firing at their carriers, and then a hailstorm of anti-spacecraft missiles, pulse-lasers and charged particle beam weapons suddenly spat from over 65 ships of the Confederate fleet at relatively close range. At that range, there was just no time for active ECM, phosphorus flares or evasive maneuvers to help the Union’s first wave of fighters escape the sudden onslaught. Over 200
Lightnings
and
Mustangs
exploded. Only six life-pods ejected.

By the time the second wave of Union fighters reacted and employed evasive maneuvers, lighting off ECM and popping flares as they tried desperately to claw their way out of range of the rebel fleet’s short-range weaponry, 345 screaming
Raptors
and
Demons
tore into them. Another 100
Lightnings
and
Mustangs
were lost on the Confederate fighters' first pass, while 30 more perished from anti-spacecraft fire from the ships of the Confederate fleet. Within six minutes of the time that the Federals started the war, they’d lost over 330 fighters to the Confederates' loss of only two.

Things evened out a bit after that, as the remaining Union fighters carrying anti-ship armament went after the Confederate cruisers and frigates, while the 700 equipped to mix it up with other fighters went after the 343 rebel fighters. Within the next half hour, the Confederates lost three battlecruisers, four heavy cruisers, three light cruisers, six frigates, three destroyers and 167 fighters. The Federals lost another 234
Lightnings
and
Mustangs
to Confederate fighters and anti-spacecraft fire. During the melee, none of the Union fighters noticed the 345 Confederate
Raptors
and
Demons
heading directly towards the Union fleet.

“Damn, we’re much too far away to see our fighters attack the rebel fleet,” complained Ruby Demedicci.

“Patience, Ruby,” responded Ted Wentworth. “You’ll see plenty when the
Grand Fleet
closes into firing range of the rebels. Our fighters are just tenderizing them a bit, before our fleet throws them onto the barbeque.”

The nine Confederate carriers which had been accelerating towards the massive oncoming Union fighter assault had achieved transition velocity 20 minutes before the Federals actually opened fire. They all waited to make their jumps into tachyon space until all had verified recordings of the Union’s missile launch. All but one reached the rendezvous point undamaged after a mere thirty-second transition at 320c.

The light carrier CSS
Princeton
experienced a failure of its ECM recording apparatus and had delayed their transition long enough to bring the back-up equipment online and get the incoming missile scans recorded. That delay allowed two Federal anti-ship missiles to get through, killing 357 spacers and inflicting massive damage to the ship. Fortunately neither the ship’s reactors nor propulsion systems were hit, so
Princeton
completed her preprogrammed thirty-second jump as planned.

Two transitions within 30 seconds of one another left most of the carrier crews almost insensible, but stimulant injectors that could be used to administer meds from outside of a combat suit had been predistributed, so the crews got a bit of artificial help at getting their heads and guts back together. Damage control parties finally got the fires put out on the
Princeton
, but the crippled ship was out of the fight. One of the Federal missiles took out her primary spacecraft launcher and the second hit her launch bays.