Honor's Path
Elaine Wolversham looked at the white beret in her hands. She was the junior officer on this shuttle-car, carrying a number of officers from hospital and her, one recently promoted captain of the list. In her mind she screamed, It's too early!
Just over five years ago, she had been a newly minted Lieutenant commander, second gunnery officer aboard HMS Dreadnought. While she had commanded, it had been small craft, cutters, pinnaces, and once, she had stood in for the commander of HMS Articulate when her captain had been in sickbay for an appendectomy.
If she had ever gotten a command this soon, she had expected an LAC, maybe a squadron of them. Never this.
But the first year had been spent in not only figurative, but real hell. In the fighting at Barnett aboard HMS Redoubtable.
She'd gotten her first real captain's berth there when graser fire had killed both the captain and exec of the battlecruiser, leaving the Gunnery officer, her, in command. Only the fact that the battle had been winding down kept her from dying that day.
But that hadn't gotten her ready for this!
She'd returned home, covered in glory, buried in the propaganda blitz the cease fire had caused. Along with a dozen others from that hell, she now wore the blood red stripe of Her Majesty's Thanks.
Then had been HMS Reprise, one of the newer destroyers during the cease fire. She had been assigned to third fleet running around Silesia hunting the now almost nonexistent pirates, standing terrified as her counter missiles protected the flag, HMS Werewolf at the battle of Marsh.
Her ship had been reassigned to home fleet just in time for the mad scramble during operation Thunderbolt as Theissman's fleets ran rampant. Being assigned to Eighth fleet, playing tag with the Republic's LACs as they gathered information for precision attacks by that assembly. She had been there for two of the actual attacks, once when Admiral McKeon had led it, then again when Admiral Truman's carriers had.
When the command had been stood down after the end of the Cutworm attacks, she had been reassigned to home fleet for a new command, the light cruiser Atropos.
She leaned back, sighing. The car began to slow, and she checked the slip. Surreptitiously, she took several deep -breaths. As the car slid to a stop, she stood, setting the beret on her head. She stopped on the promenade as the car bulleted away behind her. There, beyond the armorplast, she was.
HMS Atropos was the last of the Apollo class built, almost 45 T-years ago. One kilometer long, 120,000 tons, That class and the two follow on classes were almost indistinguishable to the untrained eye. Her eye stopped, focusing on the forward section. Instead of the 8 missile tubes of her class there were only four, where the other tubes had been there were massed Point Defense Clusters.
She remembered another ship and captain, and the sleigh ride to hell she'd only seen the aftermath of in Basilisk.
But this time, she only had himself to blame.
Fresh from Trevor's Star, Elaine Wolversham had been in the mood to celebrate.
Finally, with a month's leave in her pocket, she had wanted a drink.
She'd picked Dempsey's because she had heard that they were on Sphinx tonight. Her Ladyship Dame Honor Harrington was just become Harrington-Alexander, but the world that had borne her and shaped her called to the Manticoran girl she had started molding all those years before.
She'd been on the beer chaser to her first drink, when the Commodore from BuShips had struck up a conversation. How it had gotten onto the obscure naval history that Honor Harrington loved she didn't recall. Commodore Lancieux was a member of the Weapon's Design Board. He had been bemoaning the fact that since the Peeps had proven capable of using the new missile pods, that the weight of fire had again returned to the larger fleet.
Something Elaine had read during that time aboard HMS Bellerophon suddenly presented itself. While most of the Dolists of the People's Republic of Haven wouldn't even spell history, to be a naval officer, you had to read and hopefully understand it. With little to do on their first deployment, Elaine had dived into the military history files.
For the next half-hour, she had regaled the officer on one subject, the 20th century anti-aircraft cruiser. Starting with the original all gun ships, the Dido Class of England, and Atlanta Class of America, it had reached its epitome with the missile cruisers and destroyers of the late twentieth and early to mid 21st century. From the Kongo Class destroyers of the Japanese Self-Defense Force (Which fought for the Eastern Alliance in the Great Eastern War) to the Belknap class destroyers, and finally in the queen of them all, the vertical launch Aegis class cruisers.
The historical model was the same too. The Western allies faced a numerically superior but qualitative inferior enemy that depended on massive volleys of missiles to overwhelm their foe.
She'd brought up the information for the unbelieving Commodore from the Crown Information database at the booth they had moved to. Before the Great Eastern War, only one US aircraft carrier had been sunk. That had been by a torpedo attack. But during the war itself, only two had been lost, one to a satellite weapon, the other to a massive wave of aircraft. But that attack, three hundred aircraft and twice as many missiles had suffered staggering losses.
She had even given suggestions of what the modern weapons mix would have to be like to duplicate the effect.
Lancieux had seemed interested, but Elaine never expected anything to come from it. This was, after all, the same Weapon's Design Board that had butchered the ill-fated light cruiser HMS Fearless.
But two weeks later, Wolversham had gone into that boardroom, listened to the effusive praise of Commodore Lancieux, and gave the same speech. Before she knew what had happened, they were offering her temporary command of the first prototype to be rearmed in her suggested manner.
The following year had been buried in the necessary changes in the ships. While new ships were being built, no one wanted to throw a new weapons system into the mix. However Hepheastus had been playing with the idea of what were called 'plug and play' modules. It would never work with any ship with a descent armor belt. Only a destroyer or light cruiser would accept such a haphazard system.
The truce after the battle of Monica had almost killed the project, but Lancieux had kept pushing it. When tensions began to build, Wolversham had been called to take out one of the prototypes. Some changes had been made, primarily because of the development of Keyhole II technology, and she had despaired
She came back to himself, straightening her shoulders. The Captain had always expected her best. While she wasn't here except in spirit, Elaine had a feeling that Admiral Harrington-Alexander would know somehow if she didn't give it.
The side party snapped to attention as the white beret hove into view. Lieutenant commander Nathan Trudeau snapped a salute as their new mistress before God swung across into ship's gravity.
Elaine looked more sure of herself than he remembered. She snapped him a parade ground salute. "Request permission to come aboard?"
"Granted, Ma'am."
She shook hands with him, then motioned toward the elevator car. "If you will, commander?"
Wolversham followed him into the elevator car, and the door closed. Only then did they relax. "Good to see you again, Ma'am."
"Likewise, Nathan. How soon before we're out of the yard's hands?"
"They're waiting for you to sign off on the modifications, ma'am."
Nat, this is Ellie, remember?" Her voice was almost pleading. "We used to giggle about the brass together."
"Until we became it."
"Ain't that the truth." She sighed. "And this time, it's my own damn fault."
"Ellie," His voice was admonitory. "You know what the Captain used to say."
He knew as well as she did. He'd served his 'snotty cruise' aboard HMS Nike. "I know. 'Deal with it, mister'." The chime sounded, and when the door opened the captain and the exec stepped onto the bridge.
Commodore Pierre Lancieux shut down his computer then left the building. He had barely walked a block when the nondescript air car dropped down, and he climbed in. The driver ignored him.
Half an hour later, he was ushered into the office of Harold Sutter of the Sutter Cartel, one of the large cartels that supplied the needs of the kingdom. Unlike the Dempsey and Hauptman Cartels, Sutter had mainly supplied consumer goods. But when the war started, they had leaped into the arms industry. However their late start had limited their market share.
Or it did until Harold Sutter had discovered Lancieux.
Sutter turned from the window, looking into the dimly lit room. "Explain this to me, Commodore." Sutter's voice was raspy, devoid of feeling or humanity. "We have paid good money to you, yet the Javelin is not procured by the Navy. And now I am told the Diana command and control missile might not be procured either. Why is that?"
Lancieux's mouth was dry. "It's not as easy to cook the tests as your assistants have led you to believe. Dempsey has the lead with the Artemis Command and control missile. It's based on a proven design, your missile is still experimental. Their design was handed off first, but their prototypes arrived a week after yours. That means they have to test them together. There's nothing I can do about it."
"Bullshit." Sutter's voice was still the flat monotone, but the air seemed to freeze. "If your princely retainer is doing me no good, perhaps we'll have to suspend it."
Lancieux was terrified by the suggestion. Without that money, he would have trouble paying off his debts. Those people tended to use methods of persuasion that regen might not fix. "Sir, if I might explain?"
"Talk."
"The Ghostrider is a proven system, as is the Apollo. The only problem Dempsey had was making it small enough to fit into a standard missile. That gave us the window to slip the Diana in ahead of it. But until they have finished testing, they won't be procured. I've delayed every test I could, but the board intends to test the prototypes of the Artemis and the Diana next month.
"The Diana is already at the final approval stage. There's only one field test remaining. The same goes for the Javelin. Even if the Artemis proves to be perfect, the Diana will be in production for at least a year before the Nightmare is."
"So what?" Sutter turned, looking out over the city of Landing. "We get a year's production in. At half a million a pop that's fifteen billion net.
"Then that dries up because the Artemis is longer ranged. We end up being a subcontractor while Dempsey rakes in the cash Again!"
"Sir, the tests will go through. There is nothing I can do to delay that."
"Yes there is." Sutter motioned, and one of his men stepped from the shadows. He held out a data chip, which Lancieux took.
"We build the circuit test rigs that the navy uses. Add that to the tech support software of the ships that will be testing the weapons. Tell them to double-check every weapon before firing. The custom virus on the chip will be added to the engine software of the Artemis. Everything will check out perfect. But when the second stage impeller kicks in?" His hand waved. "The third will cut in simultaneously." Anyone who knew impeller design knew what would happen next.
"Even if they know it's there, it will take at least four months to find the glitch, and fix the programming protocols that allow it to work. By then, we'll already be in production. Most likely, our good friend on the Weapon Design Board will tell Dempsey to do it again. That will take a year or more. Besides, every missile that blows will be lost."
Lancieux pocketed the chip. "Consider it done."
"Thank you Pierre." Sutter turned back toward the room. "Remember this as well. If the bad boys don't get you, I will."
HMS Atropos reconfigured to impeller, then drove toward Saltash, Talbot Sector, 14 light minutes away. Behind her, the convoy, and the other four modified light cruisers of operation Farragut followed suit.
Elaine busied himself with the syllabus Commodore Lancieux had forwarded.
That made it a quiet backwater. Quiet enough to test the anti-missile cruiser concept.
"Flag signals receipt of our arrival." Trudeau passed on.
"Noted, Exec." She replied crisply, continuing his reading. The cruisers of Operation Farragut were to change their loadout of missiles for the test weapons, then join a destroyer squadron. Once they had, the entire task group would loop out, then return. In the meantime, the 1044th SuperDreadnought division and the remaining picket force would run out to intercept them.
Except for the ships of Operation Farragut, none of the ships assigned here had Apollo yet. This meant that they would have to face the Javelins and Nightmares with all of the disadvantages the Sollies would face.
However, there were two of the wall over there, and they weren't going to be pulling their punches. The light cruisers' mission was to keep them from killing the task group.
Anyone who had been through Saganami Island knew what should happen. The Anti-missile cruisers were supposed to make the difference.
"Squadron Orders. All ships of Operation Farragut are to rendezvous with HMS Olympus Mons for loadout."
"Send affirmative." The blip of the fleet collier flashed, and the helm eased the ship toward her. Considering their loadout, only one magazine loaded with standard missiles, the other two with counter missiles, the captains of this force had been nervous. Not only had their throw weight been reduced (only two tubes to a broadside instead of four, though her energy weapons hadn't been affected) even with the refit that had allowed the small ships to fire Mk16s.
Instead of taking undamaged ships in and refitting them, Hepheastus had simply marked five of the ships that had been in for major repairs and refit them. The captains of those ships hadn't been asked. They had been handed a fait accompli.
They had about half an hour at standard 30-second reload speeds, maybe 13 minutes at rapid fire. Enough firepower to fight off a destroyer attack on the convoy, but anything heavier would have closed and eaten them alive.
She could almost hear the men and women commanding the other cruisers. Thanks a lot, Wolversham. Next time keep your damn mouth shut.
Captain Montoya of HMS Vishnu had really said it. Having a your squadron commander in the same person on your case was not where a junior officer wanted to be.
She sighed. A couple more days and she'd either be proven right, or she'd be an idiot.
Some choice. She looked up at the ship's coat of arms. An old but still attractive woman reclined in a chair. In her left hand, she held a thread pulled taut. In the other, she held a pair of shears, which she was about to cut it with. The motto read Do not rail against your Fate, I will decide it when it happens.
Rear Admiral Henrietta Tamarind broke the seal, then slid the orders disk into her reader. While she knew what the orders were, but neither her Flag Captain Thomas Blanchard nor her staff did.
The system popped up on the holo screen, and she turned it so all could see. "Saltash in the Talbot Sector. This is our target."
Her audience was listening intently. The adviser was licking her lips. "A question?"
"Why haven't they attacked us here yet?"
"The Admiralty believe they were badly hurt by the sneak attack on their system, both in material and morale, that they are nervous about trying another offensive right now. But we have to keep them off balance.
"Our mission is simple. According to ONI, a new missile system was first shown at New Tuscany a few months ago. All we have so far is the sensor data from the captured battlecruisers, and an estimate of their range, but that is alarming. The ship that fired them was a battlecruiser which began firing at forty million kilometers." She didn't mention that a single battlecruiser had been destroyed in that debacle. "Their estimate is that it has a range in excess of fifty million."
"Jesu." Blanchard hissed.
Tamarind mentally seconded the oath. "So we are bait. This task force is to cut across the ecliptic just within the hyper limit, as if we were fat, dumb and happy.
"But the Manties don't know about the new ECM systems the battlecruisers we command has. According to tests, it should limit the damage to only what we would usually take.
"The new target discrimination software should automatically judge the most serious threats, and assign pinpoint whisker lasers to target them for the counter missiles and energy weapons. The special recon drones we've also been given will record faster, and in more depth. When we spot the Manties, we are going to push in attacking their industrial nodes until we're 60 million kilometers out. Then we're going to circle outside them like so." On the screen, the course curved to follow the hyper limit. "If they continue to close, we will allow them to close, but no closer than fifty million kilometers.
"The instant they open fire, we're going to beat feet out of there. To assure that the information gets back, the destroyer Chemintz is going to separate from the force, and operate a minimum of a million kilometers closer to the hyper limit, recording the entire operation. Once the first missile is fired, she will break over the limit, and head home."
"Fifty million." Plenikoff mused. Is that wise, Admiral?"
"If the Admiralty is correct, they will have to wait until we close to a minimum of 54 million kilometers assuming our estimate is off. If it isn't we can close in until we're about forty million out just to be sure." And if the idiot asked, she'd explain why a wise commander didn't fire in the outer ten percent.
Commodore Lancieux stood on the dais, facing the officers below. "Today we are doing the final field tests of two weapons, the Javelin long range standard missile, and the Lamprey long range counter missiles.
"For those of you who have yet to read the information packet, the Lamprey uses a new impeller design from the Sutter Cartel, with a duration of one hundred twenty seconds, instead of ninety. This, along with the slightly higher missile acceleration gives us an extreme range of almost six million kilometers, instead of the four and a half million of the newest counter missiles.
"They then extended this research to sustainers for the standard
missile, building up, instead of the building down needed by Dempsey when they started on the Nightmare. By increasing the acceleration period, and the use of a three stage impeller, they have extended the standard missile range from 42 million kilometers to 88.8 million at an acceleration of 50,000 Gs, or 25 million at 100,000 Gs. They were also able to make it only five percent larger in length with no additional beam, which means they can be used by unmodified ships.
"Gentlemen, today we are also testing two other systems at the same time. The first is the Artemis variant of the Appollo missile and the Diana version. They are both command and control missiles
"While the capital missile of this new design had proven itself, it is still a departure that hasn't yet proven fruitful when tried in the standard missile." Thanks, he thought, to his juggling the figures to make it appear so.
"The other is the anti-missile cruiser, a light cruiser with a counter missile salvo equal to a superdreadnought division. Five ships have been renovated with the new plug and pull modules while in for repairs, and if the system doesn't work, they can be returned to their normal configuration easily." The captains of the other four cruisers relaxed visibly.
"Here is what we will do. The 1171st Provisional Light Cruiser Squadron will approach on an attack run supported by the 104th destroyer, and come under fire from the 1044th Super-dreadnought division, supported by the Cruisers and Destroyers of the pickets.
"All of the Ships of the Wall, and their cruisers will flush their pods. Usually, none of you could reply, Admiral Presley. But this time, your light cruisers will be fielding the Mk 16s, Dianas, Artemises and Javelins.
"It is my intention that we deploy the Dianas first, and shoot five salvos. Then change out and fire five of Artemis. Each therefore, will get a chance to do their best. The remainder will be fired in the asteroid belt.
"Any questions so far?"
Rear Admiral of the Red Laurie Presley nodded. "Where are the cluster-fucks to be placed?" Elaine reddened. As soon as Admiral Presley had seen them, and been informed of the concept behind their design, her reply had been "Counter-missile clusters my ass! Looks like a cluster-fuck to me."
Lancieux didn't correct her. "The five counter missile cruisers will run in a modified wall. Considering the weaponry, and our desire to verify how well their missiles are doing, I would suggest at least a half million kilometers closer to start. If the Lamprey performs up to expectations, little of the wall's fire should penetrate that."
"Just enough to blow us all to hell."
"We'll see. Due to our being in a combat zone, all missiles will have live warhead, but they will be set to pass a minimum of 50,000 kilometers from their targets. Light cruiser captains, I don't want any missiles fired, whether they are Artemis or Diana until it has been checked out thoroughly. All ships with them will check them and report to me before we arrive at our test area."
Chief missile technician Dupres yawned, putting the test rig aside. The ordies under his orders had checked the thirty-two Artemises in magazine one. Now they had to do the same with the Dianas. Thanks to their size, there were only thirty of the larger missiles.
"Hey, Chief?" His eyes snapped open. Missile Tech 1st Wilder was staring at his test scanner.
"What's wrong, kid?"
"Something flashed on the screen when I input the test program." He pointed at the Diana warshot before him.
"Show me."
Wilder turned the screen, and ran the code. Suddenly he pointed. "See?"
"See what?"
Wilder, who had passed tech school first in his class, sighed. None of his instructors had understood how his talent worked. He'd gotten tired of explaining that he could tell by looking when the program didn't look right. "That line of code was overwritten, but it's wrong."
"You're jerking my chain right?"
"No way, Chief. I can't explain how I do it, but I can read the machine code and tell when it's improperly written." He tapped the test rig. "Someone rewrote the code in the test rig, and it rewrote the missile software improperly."
"Yeah, right." Dupres rubbed his face. Three more hours of this shit. "Listen, kid, just finish your section."
"But-"
"Damn it, just do it and shut the fuck up!"
Wilder turned to the next missile, troubled. Maybe he should tell someone. But who?
At 0700 hours, TF Farragut moved away from the planet along with the battle group.
Down on mess deck two, Wilder picked at his food. The problem with the software still bothered him. "What's the matter?" He looked up guiltily. He didn't recognize the Chief electronics specialist at first, but then it hit him.
'You're Wanderman, right?"
"Aubery Wanderman nodded. "Don't let the rep fool you. I was lucky."
Lucky! Wilder had heard that the man in front of him had taken down a real hardcase apart with his bare hands while his first ship was in the Silesian Confederacy. Then walked away from a Captain's mast in front of Honor Harrington of all people with his stripes intact. Add to that returning as a hero when HMS Wanderer, an auxiliary cruiser ripped up not one but two Peep battlecruisers! He'd only been a striker back then, little more that Wilder was now.
"It's the missile programs on the Diana." Wilder told him what he had seen, and the events that followed. "But when I told Chief Dupres, he refused to accept my analysis. He told me to shut up and work."
"How did you know it wasn't right?"
"I've always been able to tell when a program wasn't written right. I have been able to read machine and program code since I was a kid."
Wanderman took out his hand comp, and brought up a program he had been working on. He made a few keystrokes, then handed in to the younger man. "Here's where you prove it. What's wrong with this?"
Wilder took the comp, then scrolled the code. He made two notes, then turned it. "Here in line 18741, you reversed the command you made in 12214. That made everything in between worthless. You also have two characters transposed in line 22577."
Wanderman took it back. "So that's what's been screwing it up!" He nodded, then stood. "Come on. We're going to talk to someone."
"Who?"
"Master Chief Olson."
"The Bosun?"
"Yeah." Wanderman smiled. "He's got a rep that shames mine. And he earned it."
Olson listened, then called up the file copy of the Diana software. He downloaded it to his own hand comp, then set it down. Wilder took the copy he'd gotten from the test rig, and ran it. He stopped it, pointing. "Right there. That's the ignition sequence for the third stage impeller. But here," he scrolled back, "is the ignition sequence for the second stage maybe a second before it, and here," he scrolled down to another line, "ninety seconds later, is the proper sequence, which was repeated above."
Olson nodded. It had long been custom in the Royal Manticoran Navy that the senior enlisted man aboard was called the Bosun, regardless of his rate. Olson had beaten out Senior Chief Darnley when he came aboard by three months. The senior chief was a large man with the face of a boxer, and the mouth of a dockworker. He'd spent most of his career wearing down the rungs of the promotion ladder until about five years earlier. The war, and marriage, had mellowed him.
"All right, I see it. How did this slip past the factory?"
"It didn't." Wilder retorted. This," He tapped his hand comp, "is not the software that left the factory. Someone altered it. Probably with a virus. The programming changed when we tested the missiles."
"What? How do you know this?"
Wilder was embarrassed. "As I told chief Wanderman, I learned to read machine code and programming code as a kid. I found that I could see glitches in a program by scrolling it."
"How do you do that?"
"I can't explain. It's like seeing a picture, and knowing that this line here is not where it should be."
"Believe me, Wilder, I know the feeling. But how did you know that the file had been changed on purpose?"
Again Wilder looked embarrassed "It's my first cruise, and I tend to be a loner. I downloaded the software for the missiles when we took them aboard, and scanned it."
"A little light reading. So you saw this. Who did you tell?"
"Chief Dupres."
Olsen considered. He'd had words with Dupres before. The man needed another talking to. Probably down in the boatbay this time. Or maybe he could borrow the Marine's sparring ring. "We're field testing these missiles, right? Suppose we popped off the Diana without changing the software. What happens?"
Wilder considered, eyes closed. "At the lower acceleration setting, they blow up about 75 million kilometers out. At the higher setting, they run for 165 seconds, and explode at fourteen point two eight million kilometers."
"And if we didn't know about this," Wanderman tapped the screen, "it looks like a hardware problem of some kind, and they go back to the drawing board."
Olsen looked at both men then tapped the comm panel on his desk. "Mister Bellmon? We've got a problem with the Diana. I need to see you, the exec, and the skipper right now."
"Chief, is this important?"
"Please, sir. Tell the skipper that I asked."
"Christ." Lieutenant Bellmon, Weapons officer whispered. He looked to his seniors. "We're talking sabotage here, sir."
"We're talking treason." Trudeau snapped. Someone screwed up this test."
Wolversham raised her hand. "I need options before we kick this upstairs, people. How do we fix it?"
"Wilder?" Olsen asked.
"Wipe the test rigs, except for one for evidence. Wipe and reload the missiles. But that will take time. Eight, nine hours for all of them. The first wouldn't be done for at least two, maybe two and a half.""
"Too long even if the Admiral agrees." Elaine leaned back, gnawing on a knuckle. "Exec, contact the flag and Captain Montoya. Chief, put Wilder and Wanderman on it. I want something faster than dumping and reloading. Then I want to find out where the code came from. Someone created that code specifically to interfere with the Diana. I want them."
Wilder coughed. "Sir, we should start checking on Olympus Mons. The original file was good. The virus was probably stuck into the test rigs."
"Good work. Now get on it."
"Commodore Montoya scowled. "Your information has been confirmed, Commander. Both Hecate and Freya have already reported the same thing."
"We've got an update, sir." Wolversham replied. "Missile Tech Wilder found the virus in the testing rig. All it did was rewrite one line with a repeat. All of the software for our test rigs was passed over from Olympus Mons at the same time."
"So it's someone from Olympus Mons."
"Or the Weapons Design Board."
"Agreed. We'll take it from here. In the mean-" The klaxon wailed, and on both bridges, officers shouted, "Report!"
Coming over the hyper wall with 14,400KPS to start, Admiral Tamarind expected at least a few seconds of peace.
Such was not to be.
"Contact! Five light cruisers, eight destroyers at 22 million kilometers! Dead ahead!"
Admiral Tamarind dropped her teacup, spinning to her monitor. "I need more, damn it!"
"Speed 1400 KPS, acceleration four point zero three KPS insystem."
"Astrogation, how soon to missile range?"
"Seventeen minutes."
"Contact! two Super-dreadnoughts, twelve cruisers, fourteen destroyers. Range, six five million kilometers, acceleration 1500 KPS outsystem, on course to intercept the cruisers."
The admiral looked at the screen. Even if they had that super missile, the super-dreadnoughts were too far away to have any affect the outcome. That meant she could destroy the cruisers and their escorts unopposed. If they have the damn things, this will make that admiral willing to waste them at full range. "Fleet orders, we'll snap up the small boys as we pass."
"I make it sixteen minutes to their extreme missile range." Commander Janasek reported.
Montoya could see that. "How soon before we can fire warshots?"
"We can fire immediately, except they're going to be firing the Artemis and Javelins instead of Dianas."
Montoya nodded, looking at the screen. Even if they dumped the pods, none of his ships could get away.
33 to his 13.
"Signal HMS Albert Einstein. Message follows. 'Unable to escape enemy force. We will accept enemy fire. Light Cruisers will attack with Javelin missiles switching to the upgraded Mk 16 in two zero minutes."
Task Force Farragut turned, and 225 missiles flashed away.
"Missiles inbound. Acceleration 923.7KPS. Time to attack range, one four zero seconds." The tactical officer noticed an odd pattern. "Sir, the missiles are coming in in clumps."
"What do you mean?" The Admiral asked. The data was dumped to her screens. The Mantie fire was in discrete clumps of fifteen missiles each, and had spread only enough to clear the impeller wedges.
"How soon to our range?" Tamarind demanded.
"Eleven minutes."
Hold fire."
65 seconds later, counter missiles began to pour out but suddenly there were not 225 missiles, but over 2000 as the Dragon's teeth lit off five seconds into the counter missile run. It didn't stop missiles from being killed, but their accuracy dropped dramatically.
200 broke through the barrier of missiles and there was no time for the second launch to even be updated. Before the lasers of the point defense could fire the Dazzlers kicked in, the computers looking into th electronic equivalent of the sun. They screamed in, point defense spinning to attack, but 180 dived into the formation.
Every heavy cruiser was busy protecting the battlecruisers, so they were surprised when the missiles suddenly shot out, not at the larger vessels, but at the cruisers. SLN Agincourt, Bataan, Monte Cassino and El Alamein vanished in two and a half kiloton explosions. SLN Yorktown staggered from position, her forward impeller down, followed by SLN Bastogne. SLN Guadalcanal charged forward for several seconds before her back broke, and her wreckage was left behind by the task force.
Plenikoff turned to Tamarind. "Sir, we may not have seen their new long range capital missiles, but in my opinion, what we have seen is even more important."
"How?"
"Ma'am, this is the first time we've had proof that they have extended range standard missiles capable of 100,000Gs. It's also the first we've seen of these long-range counter missiles. We'll have to take them at energy range, because we can't outrun them. But if we dispatch Chemintz now, we can still get the lion's share of the task group away."
The second salvo was already punching like a stiletto through the counter missile curtain, and each of the three cruisers were again targets. One group of 45 missiles along with two of the 15 missile clumps dived at SLN Bavaria, the remainder targeted Chemintz.
"Jammers coming up, now!" just out side of engagement range, twenty of the best jammers the Manticoran navy could produce screamed in every frequency. The hydrogen fluorine lasers cycling to blind lidar.
As Chemintz went to full emergency deceleration at 5.4KPS, the missiles reached and passed counter missile range. With all hope of coordinated fire gone, every ship fired on whatever target presented itself. Fully 150 of the missiles punched through that barrier into laser range.
Every heavy cruiser was busy protecting the battlecruisers, so they were surprised when the missiles again suddenly shot out, not at the larger vessels, but at the cruisers and the lone destroyer. Twenty-four were aimed at each cruiser, twelve at Chemintz. SlN Iwo Jimaand SLN Leytesurvived. But both were glowing wreckage wrecks spewing lifepods.
Admiral Tamarind had time before the next salvo arrived to think, because they had a chance to escape!
The third salvo was 450 missiles instead of 225, and split between four of the Renown class battlecruisers in the center of her formation. With fewer targets the missiles were able to get in closer.
SLN Arizona staggered out of formation, half of her wedge blown to plasma SLN California followed. They were lucky. Their sisters SLN Hokkaido, SLN Mindanao, became 1.8 megaton clouds of fusion fire.
Aboard SLN Nevada, Admiral Tamarind flinched as a sixth of her battlecruisers died. "Tactical! Get control of the loose pods!"
"Got em!"
"Fire!"
"Enemy ships are deploying pods."
"Thank you tactical. Comm, signal Vishnu."
"Vishnu reports ready." Five small ships formed a wall of battle, and turned to present their broadsides. Their names would be remembered after this battle, perhaps with derision, maybe with pride. HMS Vishnu was in the center, above her were HMS Atropos and HMS Finuella. Below HMS Anansi and HMS Freya.
Each of the battlecruisers deployed the ten pods they had tractored inside their wedges. There was a pause as if the world held it's breath, and 2,000 missiles leaped at this suddenly thin line at 451.35 KPS.
Elaine watched the display with a horrid fascination. The old prayer of the British navy when under fire came to mind. "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord find us thankful." She whispered.
To a Solarian task force faced with such firepower, it would have been terrifying. In the last five centuries, the League navy and Frontier fleet had never fought a war. They had never had a ship larger than a heavy cruiser lost in seven centuries. In fact SLN Jean Bart had been the first battle cruiser lost in a millennium
They had also never had a Solarian warship of any size surrender in that same millennium. Yet less than five months ago 16 battlecruisers and screen had surrendered in New Tuscany, and a month and a half ago 49 Superdreadnoughts and their screen had followed them into captivity in Spindle.
Compared to the Manticoran Navy, the Solarian fleets; both battle and frontier, were sea scouts practicing for life. Each of the captains of the Manticoran cruisers had faced salvos larger than this as escorts for larger vessels. In fact at the Battle of Manticore five times as many missiles had been fired just at the screening units, and three of the captains had survived that massacre.
So to them, it was just another day at the office.
Thirty-five seconds after the missiles were fired, the screen exploded as five light cruisers challenged hell.
"Panic fire." Someone murmured. Tamarind snorted in disgust. Every officer knew the exact range his counter missiles could reach powered, and just how little chance a missile gone ballistic had against a maneuvering target. Every missile they fired right now was as good as wasted.
Well if he wanted to waste counter missiles that would go ballistic thirty odd seconds before they reached the salvo, she wouldn't complain
Lieutenant Jeffries however, was worried. He had mentally started counting when the missiles came at them. 88, 89, 90, 91, 92
"Admiral!"
"I see it, but I don't believe it."
"Admiral, look at the volume of fire."
She did, and her eyes widened. Those five light cruiser were putting out more fire than 20 super-dreadnoughts, 120 missiles a second at her salvo!
Go baby, go!" Bellmon screamed. Their volume of fire was fantastic! Almost a hundred missiles a second were being torn apart. 21 seconds later, still over three million miles from the cruisers, the last missile died. Immediately the ships began firing at the follow on salvos.
Montoya ran the analysis, then grinned. He punched in the changes, then spun, tactical, target on my mark!"
"Sir!"
"Do it!"
The second salvo, barely 720 missiles was already diving on the cruisers. But the coordinated defense net tore them apart.
"All ships, close the range, go to rapid fire."
For the first time in history, light cruisers charged battlecruisers, expecting to win rather than merely bury their teeth in someone's throat.
"Admiral, they're closing!"
Even if she had lost nothing at all, this would have been dicey. The primary difference between battlecruiser and cruiser was the armor, and a heavier armament. Even though she could kill them all in the first two broadsides that got through, she was going to be badly hurt. "Go to rapid fire all tubes!"
"Sir! The Superdreadnoughts have fired!" She spun to stare at the screen. Still more than 64 million kilometers away, missiles in the same clumped formation were reaching out toward her command.
She knew the Manties weren't stupid. They would not have fired if they didn't expect the lion's share of those 4,000 missiles to bury themselves in her command. She sighed. "Strike the wedge."
"Admiral-"
"Damn you, strike the wedge! Get me a channel to the Superdreadnoughts. We are surrendering."
Elaine stared in astonishment and satisfaction. Six Battle Class cruisers destroyed, two severely damaged. Six battlecruisers destroyed, nine damaged. Over 15 million tons of shipping destroyed or damaged, without even counting the ball of gas that had once been a destroyer.
"Signal from Commander 1171st Provisional Light Cruiser Squadron to flag. Damage report. HMS Anansi lightly damaged. No other damage to report."
"Christ on crutches." Trudeau said. "We get one of our ships hit from all of that?"
"Signal from flag to 1171st Provisional Light Cruiser Squadron. Umbrella has proven itself. You are no longer the cluster-fucks." The communications officer smiled. "The drinks are on us."
Commodore Lancieux climbed into the autocab, giving it Sutter's office address. He hugged the briefcase, as if it were a puppy. Just as they were supposed to, the Dianas had failed their acceptance trials. He'd shown disappointment but was ecstatic at how well Artemis had proven itself.
Even better, Hemphill had given him the technical information from both the captured battlecruisers, and the copy of the Solarian missile pod schematics to deliver to the Weapons Design Board, attaching the cuff to his wrist herself.
He'd called Sutter the instant the ship had entered the Manticore system. With these specs, he could deliver a design for a twenty-missile pod before any one else could eve-
The car had turned, and was descending not at the Sutter Cartel building, but at a nondescript apartment complex. He was still trying to override when the door popped open, and three men stopped him.
"ONI." One of them flashed his badge. "I'll take the case, Commodore."
"You can't! It's sealed-"
The man tapped the cuff in a quick pattern with his fingers, and the cuff snapped open. Lancieux gaped as he then opened the supposedly sealed case, and pulled out a recorder. The agent popped it in a self-sealing box, which welded itself shut upon closing, then pulled out the second recorder. He thumbed the control.
There were a series of computer beeps. "Talk."
"Mister Sutter, the virus worked like a charm. Dempsey is out of the running."
"Excellent."
"Better yet, I've got a briefcase full of data worth-" The recorder clicked off.
"I have a message for you from Admiral Hemphill. She said when you face the firing squad, she hopes they aim for the belly."
"Being is all respects ready for departure, HMS Atropos will proceed with convoy Zebra Golf 71 to Grayson via Manticore with a one day layover in the home system. Upon arrival at Grayson, she is to report to Blackbird yards to be turned over to the Grayson Space Navy as a model of the new system, named Umbrella.
"Upon arrival, Commander Elaine Wolversham to turn over command of HMS Atropos to Commander Nathan Trudeau, and proceed to Joint Heavy CruDiv 12, to assume command of HMS Broadsword." Elaine set down the orders. "Well that was quick. Nat, notify the flag and commander Zebra Golf 71 that we are ready to depart when ordered."
"Yes ma'am. And congratulations."
"We should crack a bottle, but I didn't think to pack any."
"Well," He reached down beside the deck, and set down a bottle of wine and another data chip. "This was a personal to you, along with the bottle."
Elaine slid it into the reader. She stared shock as Admiral Steadholder Lady Dame Honor Harrington Alexander looked out at her.
"Elaine, I just heard that you got a cruiser command. I just wish I had been there to congratulate you properly, but a couple of bottles of the '24 Delacourt we both like so much is the best I can do.
"I know she's only a light cruiser, but Atropos has got a sterling record. Let me know how you do. I will be watching." The message ended.
Nat handed her a glass, and they both toasted the screen "In a couple weeks, we can tell you how we did personally."