Ground Control, page 22
Alber’ was more interested in the nest of fire ants waiting nearby to bite him.
“Right Flank, this is d’Maine, I have squadron flag,” he announced. “Lock all weapons on the Alpha Flight Wing and prepare to decelerate and maneuver. We’re going in to pick them off from a safer distance this time.”
Because only a fool stuck his arm into something like that willingly. Good way to lose it.
They had a little time before then. And a stack of fun targets to go after.
“Right Flank, I am transmitting a list of targets of opportunity for your heavy beams. Keep the light stuff on aeromechia, but pound on stations and depots as you go by. We will not stay long enough to score any kills, but juvenile delinquency is approved.”
He cut the line and leaned back, studying the organization of the mob in front of him. Not quite two hundred, against his force. A smart commander over there would aim straight down and live to fight another day.
These people were accelerating towards him, having realized too late what Heather had done in hitting three different points in orbit with three separate teams of killers.
And then he heard Her whisper. Listened as she explained a thing that wasn’t even in existence yet, but would be in roughly eight minutes.
“Right Flank, prepare to come to zero-zero-seven, down three,” he said slowly. “Reverse power ten percent and shift all turrets to forward and forward right arcs. Execute.”
“Right?” Lan asked, surprised. “We’re turning away right. Don’t you mean left arcs?”
“No,” Alber’ said. “I do not. Forward right.”
“If you say so,” Lan shrugged, turning back to his boards.
But Lan didn’t hear Her. Wasn’t haunted by her voice. Few were, though he suspected that she might reach out to Veronika Provst soon and seek a new mount.
Whoever was commanding this aeromechia wing took the bait. They shifted to their left and accelerated, because they hadn’t caught him cutting his speed in their excitement. A squadron of big ships charging you on a screen looks like a shark when you don’t have a commander feeding you updated movement vectors.
And the carriers were all dead.
Those pilots had whatever puny scanners came mounted, and nothing else.
Minutes passed.
“Right Flank, come to three-four-zero NOW!” he ordered. “Reduce thruster power another twenty percent and put it all into weapons.”
Yan nodded when Alber’ looked up at the man, but that old pirate had seen something. Four decades of doing this, both of them.
One hundred and seventy-seven aeromechia when he started this run, and they were suddenly headed away from him at medium speed as he crossed their T. Not that you could actually do that in space all that well, but he had all his guns centered on a mob that was suddenly trying to brake, maneuver, something.
Escape him, which Alber’ wasn’t allowing.
It was a slaughter, but he owed them for what they’d done to the people defending Loong.
Didn’t take that long, and he owned this third of orbital space.
“Warlord, Phase Two complete,” he told her on the command line.
Chapter 71
Stormhawk, Asouri Orbit
Makara noted that d’Maine hadn’t left him all that many aeromechia to deal with, which was fine, as his force lacked the Light Plasma Cannon designed to break up those formations. Instead, he had half of the Escort Destroyers.
“Escort Element, this is Morninghawk,” he called. “Everyone begin coasting and stand by to receive the next wave of torpedoes. Lotus teams, you have priority. Type-3 teams, engage aeromechia until they start ganging up, then split half your fire to defense as well. Heavy weapons, as you bear.”
Bubble Gun. Nasty piece of work, because it could hammer ten or a dozen aeromechia if they got tight enough, but their diamond shield thing they did was pretty good at protecting a group of four to six if they saw it coming.
Better to just hammer with the Fours. Overkill, but occasionally he could nail two or three of them in a line. And there weren’t that many left.
And fewer every minute.
Chapter 72
Type Eight Light Tyche, Asouri Strike Orbit
Kira had seen Heather’s plans. Been there to argue various facets. Understood them at a mental level.
She had not, however, believed.
But then, she’d been at First Kyulle, as Aquitaine called it. Had seen what that mess of aeromechia had been able to do.
That had been against old designs, though. Not warships purpose-built to kill aeromechia swarms.
Today, she understood.
Heather had hit all three of the Overlords at the same time, from Jump and with surprise, blasting by at high speed as a distraction that let each team keep going and focus on the next swarm ahead of them instead of attempting to come to rest and circle back.
That was exactly the moment when all those aeromechia torpedo swarms would become their most effective.
Stormhawk had left her about one hundred and twenty-five aeromechia to deal with. And none were surrendering. Instead, they were starting to bunch up so they could launch deadly flights of torpedoes at her.
“Right Flank, engage with everything you have,” she ordered. “Pilots, prepare to come to zero-three-five and down ten. On my mark, all vessels execute. Three, two, one, MARK. In four minutes we will rotate back inwards again and take them bow on, but I want them thinking laterally to chase us. We can repair systems when they are done, so do not spare the horses today.”
Long ways from home, but Heather had parked a small squadron of support ships a few light-years away, packed with repair equipment to bring ships back on line quickly, assuming nobody was particularly damaged, and the force had gotten lucky.
Still…
“This is Lau,” Heather replied when Kira pinged her.
“Salvage cruisers,” Kira said. “Old Zen-Mekyo thing that they used to repair damaged freighters in the field because they didn't have repair facilities in stations.”
“I’m aware of the design,” Heather acknowledged.
“We need some here,” Kira told her. “Not just forward bases, but forward repair that can keep us operational this far from home. And it needs to be mobile, instead of a base that can be attacked, or eventually Bellamy starts doing to us what we’ve been doing to him.”
“Work with Rocket Frog and Bedrov,” Heather ordered. “Pretty sure that any of those old ships won’t be anywhere close to useful here, but they can start there and design me something.”
“Understood,” Kira said. “Adding it to tomorrow’s list.”
“What is your status?” Heather asked.
“Three left,” Kira said. “No, strike that. No survivors of the aeromechia wing. Caught them off balance with the shift and they lost track of us. We hold the field.”
“We hold orbital space, Kira,” Heather corrected her.
Kira dialed back her screen and studied the read-out.
Shit, they’d done it, hadn’t they? No hostile transponder codes in orbit. A bunch on the ground. Others that had hit deep space and were still vanishing.
Nobody but Yaumgan left?
Yes, she believed.
Chapter 73
Date of the Republic June 26, 417 Mejico, Asouri
Veronika watched the last icons vanish on her screen. Nobody but friendlies left.
Wowsers.
“Beetle, confirm the station,” she called over the team line.
“Nothing,” he said. “No scanners active. No bodies moving around on the hull. Hell, I zoomed in an optical camera and can’t even see folks inside along those long transparent bulkheads that probably have a fantastic view.”
“Warlord, this is Griever,” Veronika said as the countdown timer approached zero. “We appear successful here.”
“Understood, Griever,” Heather replied a moment later. “You attach those destroyers to your force and assume overall command. Go ahead and destroy Station Prime, then withdraw to rendezvous and start repair and resupply for your team. We’ll be a few days behind you wrapping this up. Lau, out.”
Veronika blinked. Blinked a second time. Drew a breath and held it.
Warlord had just made her an Acting Fleet Centurion? All of the Heavy Wing, with attached ships. All of Light Wing, with their carrier. Five more Escort Destroyers? And a Strike Centurion in charge?
Shit.
“Strike Wing, this is Griever,” she called, working to make her voice sound normal when it wanted to run up the scale and maybe crack like her brothers’ had both done as teenagers. “All weapons centered on Station Prime and open fire as you bear. Continue firing until we have fragmentation.”
Then the destroyers spoke up. Only a pair of Type-3-Pulse, but ten Pulse-Two-Lotus. Sections of that station started getting carved off, because they hadn’t bothered trying to fix their shields over there.
Raw metal. It was like watching a sandcastle melt under a firehose.
“Strike Wing, I want those bigger pieces broken up so that they do not survive reentry,” she ordered. “We like the people on the ground and don’t want to knock down their houses with orbital debris. Otherwise, keep it up.”
Didn’t take long. Optimal range. Unmoving target. Spare power for the cooling systems.
Destruction.
O’er yonder, Heather was forming up the full squadron, but she’d put Veronika in charge here. Time to make it look good.
“Strike Wing, this is Griever, I have local flag,” she intoned. “Cease fire and come about one-nine-zero. Begin accelerating and form up on Escort Destroyer Heyanga. Heyanga, take the van and lead us to JumpSpace. Next stop, Forward Base Clarissa.”
Her boards showed how bad it was for three of the big ships, but they’d hung on and could hopefully be repaired enough to stay with the team. That, or maybe swapped with Hiu Di, that had been protecting Yong Hao since Heather had split the Heavy Wing off as Task Force Crimson.
Something. She’d sort it out once they all got safely back to base and could start the bigger repairs.
Heather had put her in charge for a few days, so she needed to make sure everything was moving when the rest of the fleet got there.
Mejico went to JumpSpace.
Chapter 74
Date of the Republic June 26, 417 EM Shanhai Pass, Asouri
Heather owned orbital space above Asouri. She just wished that she could actually fulfill a Thuringwell on the people below, but this was a fully inhabited system, with some billion and a half people down there.
And the Zerzan Unification would utterly lose their shit when they heard about this raid, likely sending a full fleet of Overlords to regain control. She didn’t need them bombing the planet a second time.
Better if she never came than that. Instead, she could begin her recruiting drive today.
“Saltanat, open a hail on every frequency we’ve found in use,” she said. “With enough broadcast power to override whoever else wants it.”
“All ready to go,” her Flag Centurion replied. “Press the blue button and start talking.”
Heather nodded. Drew a breath. Pronounced her doom.
“People of Asouri, this is Heather Lau, the Warlord of Yaumgan,” she said slowly, speaking now in the Franco-German dialect that Zerzan used, having practiced extensively with Donatien and having him edit her speech before she memorized it. “You are not alone. Others resist Unification. The Balhee Cluster will stop the Zerzan Unification entirely. I cannot rescue you from them, but they do not own orbital space above you today. I do. Ships wishing to flee the Unification should begin packing immediately, and depart in three planetary days or less. There are worlds farther out on the rim where you could travel to, but most of you are not equipped to make the long journey to the Balhee Cluster, where you would be welcomed. I cannot extend that window longer, because the Unification will return and I cannot hold this system against them. I will, however, return at some point, because the Electorate of Yaumgan and its allies have declared war on the Zerzan Unification, and will take that war to Kohri eventually. In the meantime, take heart and draw strength that you are not alone. You have not been forgotten by the wider galaxy. You will be freed. Seek tomorrow, my friends.”
She reached down and cut the line. Saltanat was crying, but that was okay. Heather could feel it herself, and there were more sniffles around the table and around the room.
Donatien reached out a hand and she took it in hers, drawing strength from his stability. Heather knew in her soul that the hardest order she would ever give in her life would be to withdraw from Asouri in three days and leave these people to whatever vengeance the Unification felt necessary to inflict on them.
She would pay them all back later. With usurious interest.
For now, she had won.
Chapter 75
Date of the Republic June 29, 417 EM Shanhai Pass, Asouri
Heather studied the plot with a scowl etched so deeply into her face that her jaw muscles hurt.
“It will be okay,” Donatien murmured, just loud enough that Saltanat nodded as well.
Heather agreed, but it still grated on her soul. Nearly four hundred ships had taken her amnesty and run like hell, but she had no idea if they were fleeing the Unification, or running to summon the redcoats to keep Asouri from rebelling again.
She wouldn’t know until she found some of them someplace like Vilahana, because they wouldn’t know about Loong or any of the other gaps in the Cluster walls.
Hopefully, some were getting away, because Heather intended Asouri to be the farthest point the Zerzan Unification reached on this frontier.
Ever.
Phil had warned them, but turtles and scorpions.
“Wide channel, Saltanat,” Heather said.
“Blue button, Warlord.”
Heather nodded. Pressed it. Dreamed.
“People of Asouri, this is Warlord Lau,” she told eternity. “I have made my statement to the Zerzan Unification and will withdraw my fleet. For now. The Unification is my foe and will be destroyed before I rest. Tell them that when they return in their frightened masses, because I have driven them back from Balhee and will harry them to Kohri with a terrible, flaming scourge. No Unification warship will be safe from me. No aeromechia will escape my eye or my wrath. The Unification must be destroyed. It begins here. I will see you again.”
She hit the blue button and nodded to herself, drawing a heavy breath.
“Yaumgan Fleet, this is Lau aboard Shanhai Pass. I have the flag,” she said, switching channels. “Ilves, you have the van. Begin standard acceleration and prepare for transition. All ships conform to Ilves. Morninghawk, you will detach in JumpSpace and convey my regards to President of the Unification Commission Angelique St. Pierre, at her palace on Kohri. We will see you again at Roderick. Captain Karl, call the cadence.”
She listened to the man’s voice. Alexander Karl wouldn’t get nearly the coverage in the histories as some of the major players, being the only Fribourg warship attached to her forward fleet when the rest had to hold the wall behind her.
And Firehawk had been the one to make the ultimate sacrifice in that duty.
Heather would make certain that everyone remembered what Emperor Karl VIII had done. And continued to do, because Casey still signed her regular letters ‘RAN, Retired,’ as if that was the highest award the woman could envision.
In another universe, it might have been, and Casey herself might have been commanding one of Heather’s ships.
What might have been.
Looking back as they made the transition to JumpSpace, Heather saw any number of places where the road had forked, leading her here instead of any of a thousand other places she might have ended up.
And she wasn’t done. This was merely a sort of halfway point in her mind.
They had held the wall, even at tremendous costs.
They had started to push back.
Now, she was going to get ugly.
And free the entire Unification from St. Pierre.
Chapter 76
Stormhawk, Kohri JumpSpace
Makara studied the plot. Alber’ d’Maine, Yan Bedrov, and especially Ainsley Barrett had explained to him how to do it, but it was still weird.
Normally, you wanted to get through JumpSpace as fast as you could. Or keep to a pace that let an entire squadron or fleet travel in something of a pack.
Here, they were dialing everything back to almost nothing. Barely moving, relative to JumpSpace or real space, either one.
Ainsley had explained how they had scouted the Buran homeworld at Winterhome, looking for the station that held the god itself. Slow passes in JumpSpace, marking every significant gravity deflection of a system nobody knew.
Here, at least, he had maps they had stolen. Plus information from Fortier, who had sailed out of this system for twenty years.
Weirdly, Kohri didn’t have any major orbital platforms to worry about. Lots of small ones, but the government was all on the ground, and trade was handled by vessels that landed, rather than monstrous carriers that could not.
Exactly the opposite of their warfleet.
Stupid, but not his culture. Not even his civilization.
Merely his enemy.
Shamil Bulat was flying today, moving with the patience of cool molasses. Emar Tangan had sensors, watching for anything.
Hopefully, Rinat Keo would have nothing at all to do except launch his probe and be done.
