Democracy's Light

Chapter Forty-Four

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“As you were,” Arun barked. The enemy had pulled a rabbit out of their hats in an amazing — and seemingly impossible — burst of flying, but it wasn’t perfect. They might have had better luck if they’d sneaked the arsenal ships up on Earth, but few officers would have dared to try that against Earth’s defences. The missiles were coming at them in clumps, targeted on three of the point squadrons of superdreadnaughts, rather than one massive swarm. They might just have a chance. “Unlock the point defence, now!”

A commander from before the rebellion would have frozen, faced with such an impossible attack. Arun had commanded such destruction before, ordered it unleashed against the Imperial Navy loyalists during the war, even faced it during the terrifying moments when the Shadow Fleet had seemed trapped at Morrison. They had trained endlessly to face such monstrous assaults, improving their point defence systems to the point where they could target and track even missiles fired at point-blank range, but there were just so many missiles. They could take out three-fourths of the assault and still take horrendous damage.

Above them, barely noticeable against the swarm of missiles, Admiral Wilhelm’s starships were emerging from flicker-space, falling into position for engaging the Shadow Fleet after the arsenal ships had handed out a pounding. They had played that part of their plan more carefully, he saw; they’d brought their ships in out of missile range, preventing him from trying to even the score. There was no point in targeting the empty arsenal ships now. Shot dry, having unloaded all of their missiles within a minute of the firing command, they would only absorb his missiles for no return. Admiral Wilhelm had played a masterful trick.

“Point defence is engaging now,” the tactical officer said. The display zoomed out, showing the missiles as an unbroken wall of red icons, falling on his ships like wolves on a flock of sheep. Counter-missiles were being launched, followed by energy weapons and pulsars, but they seemed so weak and frail compared to the torrent of missiles. It seemed endless, even to his experienced eyes, and he knew that some of his men were going to die. “Admiral, the commander of the arsenal ship squadron is requesting permission to move up and engage.”

“Denied,” Arun ordered tightly. The arsenal ships might well be prime targets, but there was no point in allowing them to move forward to engage, not when the incoming missiles would just get them first. In Admiral Wilhelm’s shoes, he would have programmed the missiles to take any shot they could get at an arsenal ship… and, despite their firepower, the arsenal ships had barely any more armour than a freighter. They would be blown away like a leaf in a hurricane and their firepower would be lost. “Tell them to fall back and let the big boys take the first blow.”

The superdreadnaught’s lighting flickered slightly as it opened fire with its heavy energy weapons, sweeping hundreds of missiles from the incoming swarm out of existence, breaking them down to their component particles. The fission beams ripped their targets apart, rending and tearing the bonds that held matter together, normally intended for use on other superdreadnaughts. They were terrifying weapons, altering the entire face of warfare when they were first invented, and few superdreadnaughts would risk coming into energy range of another superdreadnaught. Missiles were survivable, even at such a vast cost, but fission beams could rip even superdreadnaughts apart. If the weapons could be fired constantly, the missile swarm would simply have creased to exist…

The missiles came on and on, into the teeth of his point defence. Hundreds were diverted, expending themselves uselessly on decoys, while others were picked off and destroyed instantly by the point defence. Thousands survived to make it through the first line of defence and onwards into the inner defence zone, hacking their way through the gunboats and point defence escorts by sheer weight of numbers. Arun realised, with a moment of muted relief, that Admiral Wilhelm had made one mistake. Given a perfect opportunity to strip the Shadow Fleet of most of its escorts, he had targeted, instead, the superdreadnaughts. It was an understandable mistake, but it might prove a costly one, even with his numerical advantage. Arun would be able to safeguard his own ships…

“Missiles entering final engagement vectors now,” the tactical officer said. “Incoming…”

The superdreadnaught heaved as three missiles struck home against its port shields, then plunged as two more missiles slammed home against the prow shields, shaking the entire ship as the shield generators struggled to compensate. Arun clutched onto his command chair as red icons flickered up on the display, warning of damage to a dozen seconds as the missiles continued to pound. If they had all been fired at the General Grant, the result would have been disastrous, but instead they had been spread out over three squadrons. He forced himself to stare into the display as the pounding continued, watching the destruction of some of his ships, refusing to look away as losses mounted.

A superdreadnaught lost its shields and, before they could be re-established, four missiles slipped through and slammed into the unprotected hulk, burning through the armour and detonating inside the ship. The superdreadnaught drifted out of position and then exploded into a ball of plasma, vaporising completely as the damage soared out of control. Another two died in the same manner, while still others struggled to survive tearing wounds inflicted on their hulls, trying to avoid leaving the battle. He watched five more superdreadnaughts die in quick succession as the missile bombardment slowly came to an end, before it was finally over.

No, he corrected himself, watching as the red icons of Admiral Wilhelm’s fleet settled down into their formation. It’s far from over.

“Get me an update on the fleet’s status,” he ordered. They’d lost nearly a squadron of superdreadnaughts and others were damaged, some of them badly. The General-class ships, he noted, had suffered the worst, although one of the Independence-class ships had been hammered so badly that it had to withdraw, leaking air. “Re-establish the command network and prepare for a missile duel.”

He smiled grimly as the display updated. “And pull us back further into the gravity shadow,” he added. “If they want us, they’re going to have to come after us.”

The fleet had launched drones as soon as it flickered back into existence, allowing Admiral Wilhelm to have a grandstand view of the destruction of the Shadow Fleet. The missiles hadn’t been as effective as the Nerds had promised, he realised at once, although he was honest enough to admit that that might have been something to do with the arsenal ships. He’d considered trying to sneak them into the system, but that would have been risky; Earth’s defences had been legend before the Shadow Fleet had attacked and taken the system and they were still formidable.

“Interesting,” he mused, watching the readings. It was hard for even the Nerd-designed drones to pick out perfect detail from the haze of distortion caused by ECM and the detonation of so many missiles, but it looked as if the Shadow Fleet had taken a beating. Twelve ships appeared to be missing, presumed destroyed, while others were staggering away from the battlezone, leaking air and plasma into space. They were probably intending to cut across the gravity shadow and run, but he could have them intercepted, if he chose to do so. “Launch a second spread of probes and advance the point defence escorts.”

Captain Keene blinked at him. “Admiral, with all due respect, that will expose us to the fire of their arsenal ships,” he protested. “They survived the missile bombardment.”

“We have nine superdreadnaught squadrons to their seven, not counting escorts,” Admiral Wilhelm said, flatly. He waved one hand towards the display, focusing it on the orbital fortresses defending the planet, behind the Shadow Fleet. “Our opponent is trying to fall back on the defences and if they combine their firepower, they’re going to be much harder to take. We cannot afford to shoot ourselves dry, understand?”

Captain Keene nodded. They’d lost their supply dump and Wakanda, despite hopes and an incompetent government that could turn gold into dross, hadn’t been a source of any replacement missiles. A starship, even a superdreadnaught, without missiles was a sitting duck, easy prey for anyone who suspected the truth. If they shot themselves dry, the remaining rebel forces that defended AlphaCent would race to the Solar System and destroy them before they could escape. There was little point in trying to raid a rebel supply dumb either. They didn’t know where they were. The only way to resupply would be to head back to Cottbus… and by then it would be too late.

Admiral Wilhelm frowned. “Add the arsenal ships to the targeting systems as priority targets,” he added. “We can afford to spare the superdreadnaughts some of our missiles, just to try and dispose of the arsenal ships. Its worth the risk.”

“Aye, sir,” Captain Keene said.

The superdreadnaught’s drive seemed to hum louder as it slid closer to the gravity shadow and glided across it. Admiral Wilhelm tensed, even though he felt nothing, knowing that almost everyone in the fleet who knew that they were crossing the gravity shadow felt the same. Like flicker-shock, it was supposed to be psychometric, although in this case he suspected that the headshrinkers were right. There was no obvious difference in normal space between the interior and exterior of a gravity shadow, although anyone attempting to use a flicker drive inside the shadow wouldn’t have a chance to regret the mistake.

The enemy fleet was having drive problems, he realised. That shouldn’t have been surprising, although it wasn’t something that any sane officer would have counted upon. The effects of the bombardment would have destabilised a few drive fields and even though it could be countered, and probably would be countered, it would take time for the engineers to recalibrate their drives, limiting the maximum speeds of the targeted ships. His opponent had evidently decided to keep his ships together, regardless of the danger of being caught away from the orbital defences, allowing his fleet to close the range.

“Tactical, see if you can locate the enemy flagship,” he ordered, as the range continued to close. They would be in firing range in just under a minute. “If you can…”

“Negative,” the tactical officer said. “They’re using standard datanet transmission protocols. If they have a flagship surviving — and they must, because they’re still in good formation — I can’t identify it.”

“Never mind,” Admiral Wilhelm said. There were bare seconds left now. “You may fire at will.”

“Tactical, you are authorised to open fire,” Arun said, as the enemy fleet finally closed the range into firing position. He had expected Admiral Wilhelm to push it harder, but at least he had given them the time to make a start at some of the repairs and program new targeting patterns into the missile launchers. “Fire at will.”

The tactical officer pushed a single key. “Who’s Will?” He asked. “Missiles away, I repeat, missiles away.”

The superdreadnaught shuddered as it unleashed it’s first massive barrage. The damage the enemy fleet had inflicted during the first round had smashed some of the external racks, but thankfully the majority of them remained intact, allowing them to launch a far more powerful broadside than the enemy would be expecting. The remaining superdreadnaughts and the arsenal ships opened fire at the same time, launching a monstrous spread of missiles towards the enemy fleet. It might not have been quite as big as the massive salvo Admiral Wilhelm’s arsenal ships had launched, but it was almost as terrifying. He hoped Admiral Wilhelm enjoyed being on the receiving end as much as he himself had enjoyed the experience.

“The enemy are launching missiles,” the tactical officer said. The display sparkled with new and deadly icons, far more than he had expected. “They have definitely duplicated the external racks as well.”

Arun muttered a word under his breath in Hindi. “Is there anything of ours that they don’t have?” He asked, angrily. “We fight the war and Admiral Wilhelm picks up the remaining pieces of Empire?”

The display updated again as the superdreadnaughts unleashed a second volley, then a third, trying to hit the enemy as hard as they could. Sophisticated targeting programs isolated the real enemy superdreadnaughts from the hundreds of decoys, retargeting the missiles to ensure that not a one would be wasted. Geek-issue ECM and ECCM was still more advanced, he saw with considerable relief, but Admiral Wilhelm’s inventors were catching up quickly. If they had held off for another two months, if that had been possible, they would have been a far more formidable threat…

But by then, the Provisional Government would have been firmly entrenched, he realised, grimly. Admiral Wilhelm had timed his offensive perfectly, although he couldn’t have known — or had he known — about Daria. If Daria had been working with him, she would have been easily able to ensure that he had direct access to the latest Geek developments, regardless of their security. She had been trusted by almost everyone, including Colin himself. She had had clearance to go everywhere, a snake in the grass, watching and waiting for the moment to strike. He couldn’t understand how she had coordinated so many different parts of her plan, or had she? Had she merely taken advantage of events?

He ground his teeth together and watched, grimly, as the first wave of missiles challenged Admiral Wilhelm’s defences. The Cottbus Sector Fleet had added quite a few improvements to their software, he saw, but fortunately their hardware wasn’t quite as advanced as the Shadow Fleet’s systems. The missiles were targeted, but their weapons couldn’t move quite fast enough, even though they had used a brute-force approach to building heavy point defence escorts. They carried more weapons than Shadow Fleet ships, but they didn’t have the targeting systems… and hundreds of missiles slipped through the gap. As he watched, vengefully, Admiral Wilhelm’s starships started to die.

The main body of the missiles had been targeted on the superdreadnaughts, but several hundred had been steered towards the point defence escorts and the battlecruisers. He couldn’t understand why Admiral Wilhelm had included them in his wall of battle, unless they were intended for something unexpected, and so he’d added them to the target list. Smaller and weaker than the superdreadnaughts, their speed useless when tied to the wall of battle, they died in their hundreds as the missiles roared down on them. The superdreadnaughts took mounting damage as well, their point defence struggling to the end to protect their command ships, but only marking them out for later attention. The second and third salvos arrived, targeting already damaged ships, punching through weakened armour and cracked hulls, shattering and destroying thousands of lives in split seconds.

“Incoming missiles,” the tactical officer said. The enemy fleet missiles might have been less numerous, but they were falling on an already damaged enemy. Arun’s point defence had been weakened badly by the previous exchange of fire. “Brace for impact…”

The swarm of missiles fell on the Shadow Fleet. Either because the enemy had identified it as the flagship, or because of the macabre working of chance, the General Grant came in for extra attention. Arun felt himself praying again as the missiles started to crash into the hull, breaking though the shields and slamming deep into his flagship. The entire starship heaved… and then he knew no more.

“Admiral, the General Grant has been destroyed.”

Colin winced. He’d wanted to be on the starship, leading the Shadow Fleet into battle, but Arun had talked him out of it. Arun hadn’t even made any mistakes, either; who would have believed that the enemy would try something as crazy as bringing arsenal ships out so close to the gravity shadow. They might have lost half their fleet, or all of them; hell, for all he knew, Admiral Wilhelm might have done just that…

But it had worked out for him. He had destroyed almost all of the Shadow Fleet that had been stationed at Earth, leaving only a handful of damaged ships to stagger back towards the orbiting fortresses, just as Colin himself had done, almost a year ago. He’d lost a vast chunk of his own fleet and would lose more when he challenged the defences in orbit around the planet, but the odds still favoured him breaking through the defences and securing control over Earth.

It might be time to start thinking about the emergency plan, Colin thought, and cursed Daria under his breath. She had known all the details of the emergency plan, to flee to the Rim and start again, if the Empire would tolerate another round of Civil War. He hadn’t realised how much he had depended on her until she had proven to be a traitor — if the past Empress could be defined as a traitor — and without her contacts, re-establishing himself along the Rim might be difficult. The Empire would get its civil war anyway… Admiral Wilhelm would not be unopposed.

“Damn you,” Colin muttered, watching as Admiral Wilhelm’s fleet collected itself and formed up again. They were taking their time. He had one last card to play, but he hadn’t wanted to use it until they were definitely back against the wall. “What have you cost the Empire, you stupid…?”

“Emergences,” the tactical office snapped. New icons appeared on the display, red and ominous. “I have multiple emergences from flicker-space!”

Colin stared.

“Contacts, right behind us,” the tactical officer shouted. “They’re coming in right behind us!” Admiral Wilhelm stared up at the display as the newcomers arrived. Had Colin pulled a final surprise out of his bag? Where had those ships been? “They’re firing!”