The Star Carrier Series Books 1-3: Earth Strike, Centre of Gravity, Singularity. Ian Douglas
new, and contradictory, orders. The Turusch fleet would turn around and return to the embattled planet, would launch fighters to go in ahead of the fleet and cause as much damage as possible, with the main body of the fleet arriving soon after.
Projectiles and particle beams would be fired into the region, timed to arrive just before the fighters appeared. And every enemy outpost on the target world would be deliberately obliterated, targeted by high-velocity masses aimed with mathematical precision at the locations of the alien surface outposts.
And that didn’t make sense to the Turusch tactician either. The Turusch had spent twelves of g’nyuu’m bombarding the principle enemy base and two others … but the intent had been to capture the humans, not kill them. Why change the point of the battle now?
The Sh’daar Seed, of course, knew what it was doing. Emphatic Blossom had to believe that, or its very existence, its role as master tactician, its very understanding of the cosmos all would be called into question.
But Blossom could not guess what their purpose was now, nor could it understand its role in the battle in these circumstances. As Radiant Severing and the other Turusch ships decelerated into the volume of space surrounding the target planet, sensors showed that the enemy fleet had already withdrawn, as Emphatic Blossom had more than half expected. On the planetary surface, seething, yellow seas of molten rock steamed beneath continent-sized hurricanes where the alien colonies had been.
An entire world rendered lifeless, useless to anyone. Why?…
Radiant Severing shuddered, the rock hull ringing with an impact against the defensive shields. One of the two largest of the enemy vessels had positioned itself at the rear of the human fleet, and was bombarding the Turusch battle fleet as it retreated.
“Threat!” Blossom’s Mind Above could be unpleasantly predictable. “Kill!”
“We can destroy that human vessel,” the Mind Here added. “We should … remind the humans of the risk they take in defying the Seed.”
The Mind Below seemed to consider this, weighing the options with a computer’s calculating efficiency. “Agreed. But do not pursue the enemy. The survivors should take the report of their defeat back to their homeworld.”
“Deploy all fighter fists!” The Mind Here commanded, its emotion as raw and as primitive as that of Mind Above. “Concentrate the full offensive fire of all vessels on that target!
Some thirty capital ships of the Turusch fleet adjusted their positions, then began firing at the distant enemy. Particle beams, fusion bolts, high-energy lasers, and kinetic-kill projectiles sleeted through emptiness.
And they began to find their target.
CIC, TC/USNA CVS America
Outbound, Eta Boötis System
2025 hours, TFT
“The Spirit of Confederation reports she is taking very heavy fire, Admiral,” Hughes told him. “Damage to aft shields, damage to primary broadside weapons, damage to two of the three hab modules. Fire control is down.”
Koenig was watching the Confederation’s struggle on a secondary tactical display, which was relaying the camera view from a battle drone pacing the retreating ships. Straight-edged patches of blackness kept popping on and off along the battleship’s length, responding to incoming fire. One set of aft shields was flickering on and off alarmingly, threatening complete failure. Several sections of her long, thin hull had been wrecked by energies leaking through the shields. The damage was severe, but she continued to fire back.
White light pulsed, dazzlingly bright, as an incoming Turusch missile detonated in a sand cloud a hundred kilometers away.
“Comm,” Koenig ordered. “Patch me through to the Confederation’s CO.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
A moment later, the image of Captain Paul Radniak appeared within the holodisplay field beside Koenig’s workstation. His face was worn, his uniform disheveled. Smoke wreathed through the image, which kept flickering on and off with sharp bursts of static as the battleship’s shields rose and fell, and as electromagnetic pulses from particle-beam hits and detonating nukes interfered with the signal.
“Yes, Admiral?”
“You’ve done what you can, Paul,” Koenig told him. “It looks like the bastards aren’t going to follow us.”
Radniak’s eyes flicked away as he checked a readout outside the range of the holo’s pick-up. “It looks like they’re sending fighters after us, Admiral.”
“Fighters we can handle. I recommend you ass-end it out of there.”
The Spirit of Confederation was taking a hellacious pounding. Koenig was suggesting that Radniak rotate his ship another ninety degrees, so that the vessel’s stern was pointing in the direction she was moving, and her broad, water-filled forward shield cap was pointed at the enemy. By “ass-ending it out of there,” Radniak would be able to protect his ship from further incoming fire as the Confederation continued to accelerate out-system. Without the water shield, the crew might be subjected to dangerous doses of radiation as the Confederation approached c, but that was preferable to losing the entire vessel when her quantum power tap lost balance and detonated.
Radniak’s image shuddered, winked off, then came back up, rippling with static. “I think you’re right, Ad—” And Radniak was gone.
In the drone-relayed image nearby, white eruptions of light ate their way up the Spirit of Confederation’s spine, ripping out massive chunks of debris. One of her hab modules detached and flung itself outward, tumbling end over end as centripetal force sent it hurtling into space. The aft end appeared to be crumpling, folding in on itself. The black holes in the power center were loose, devouring the ship’s aft quarter in multi-ton bites.
The final explosion sent large chunks spraying along the ship’s direction of travel. The largest was the shield cap, tumbling end over end, leaving glittering and intertwining trails of ice crystals from a dozen ruptures in its wake. The intolerably brilliant core of the final explosion faded slowly in a flare of cooling plasma.
“Make to the other ships in our detachment,” Koenig said quietly. “Go to maximum acceleration.”
Two thousand officers and crew, plus God alone knew how many Marines and Mufrid refugees—gone.
God help them, he thought. God help us all. …
Chapter Fourteen
15 October 2404
Koenig’s Office
TC/USNA CVS America
Inbound, Sol System
0940 hours, TFT
“Dr. Wilkerson, Dr. George, and Dr. Brandt are all ready to link in, Admiral.”
Koenig looked up. Lieutenant Commander Nahan Cleary was his personal aide, which meant he often served as admiral’s secretary as frequently as Koenig’s secretarial AI. “Very well. I’ll take it here.”
He switched off the report he was currently writing and reclined his seat back. His office was fairly luxurious as military quarters went, more luxurious than he cared for, actually. There was a small lounge area over by the door, but he generally preferred to stay at his desk.
It was just as well he hadn’t gotten too used to the place. He couldn’t imagine that they would let him hold on to it much longer.
He brought up the link codes in his mind, letting the circuitry in the office connect with his in-head display. A window seemed to open and he stepped through … entering the carrier’s main med-research