Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
9 July 2779
John had taken a high-speed shuttle from the jump point to New Avalon orbit, a decision he was now regretting. His homeworld had three moons, which made the use of the transitory jump points they formed dangerous when they were close to being in alignment, the current situation. The point between New Avalon and the world's star was clear of interference from the inner worlds but like all the more stable transitory points it had been heavily mined in case of an SLDF deep strike.
The shuttle had cut the usual week-long flight from the zenith jump point to four days but the sustained multiple gravities had hit him harder than he remembered. He hadn't even been able to sleep well.
"Was it really worth it?" Hanse asked.
"Maybe not," John agreed under his breath. He'd felt that the extra three and a half days would help him get back up to speed on events at the capital but right now he just wanted to spend those days sleeping.
"I'd offer to sit on the meetings for you, but it would be hard to explain," the ghost said with a smirk.
Checking that the backseat of the limousine was cut off from the driver, John opened his attaché case and unfolded a noteputer, setting it up. "Read the latest report from Francesca," he suggested. "Then summarise it for me."
"You want me to play spoken book?"
"Just summarise." He kept one thumb on the scroll button, pressing it whenever Hanse cued him to do so, and opened a paper file with his other hand.
The Battle Armor project was going well, according to reports and 'his' suggestion on how to handle deployment in the short term had been accepted. While no one could find any record of a Savannah Master hovercraft (unsurprisingly as Hanse recalled the design as having been cobbled together in 3024 or 2025), the combination of a tiny fusion reactor, a cockpit and a hover fan was within reach of even a relatively small assembly line. It took two of them to carry a full squad of Battle Armour but they weren't all that expensive.
While replicating the Savannah Master both as a scout vehicle and as a transport for Battle Armour had been Hanse's idea, John felt that he could take the credit for how they were being crewed. The original plan had been to detach hover-tank regiments to re-equip them but it would have been very obvious something was going on.
Instead the Third Defiance Motor Rifle Regiment had given up their trikes and quads to run through a hasty re-training in the use of a one-man hover tank – which at one Savannah Master per soldier to pass the course provided enough crews for six regiments of the tiny war machines. Granted, all six regiments combined would struggle to provide the firepower of as many ordinary tanks or 'Mechs but that wasn't the point. And anomalies with one motorized infantry regiment far from the combat zone likely wouldn't be prioritised the way that a more sweeping change might.
"Now that the Combine's softened up their control of the HPGs we're starting to get reports through from our sources there," Hanse told him. "Although I don't think Zabu's ever going to hand the stations fully back to the Ministry of Communications – Blake won't be happy about that."
"From your tone I think you can bear that."
"It's not the worst news I've ever had," the ghost agreed happily. "One more stake in ComStar's grave."
"What are our sources telling us?"
"Enough that together with the data we've received from the troops crossing the border into Federated Suns space, Francesca's willing to commit to the position that Fifteenth Army is basically gone. The DCMS might have the equivalent of a couple of SLDF divisions that chose to stay loyal, but what that means in practise is that they're functionally under DCMS command now. That pretty much doubles what they'd managed to build up out of defectors but at least four, possibly as many as seven DCMS divisions got mauled trying to restrain less compliant units. So, it's pretty much a wash in troop numbers for them."
"How about warships?"
"She's just getting to that."
John scrolled down for Hanse and looked out of the window. They were getting close to Mount Davion now. He'd be home in a few minutes more.
"Ah, there are at least twenty-eight SLDF warships that are functionally under DCA control, either officially or because their command staff have acquiesced to the posting of political officers and marines aboard them. Eight other warships are unconfirmed at this time. Twenty-nine SLDF warships are confirmed as destroyed or damaged to the point they're basically write-offs." Hanse looked up. "That last category sounds suspect – I suspect they could be patched up if the DCA really wanted to."
"And if they had the yards."
"Yes, that's true. And at least fourteen Combine warships are destroyed. Francesca stresses that this is probably low-balling things, the numbers for ships lost over Luthien when Nakazono's force got there is almost certainly higher than the four ships confirmed as destroyed in action, but they don't have full information yet. Most of the warships there were from the Pesht District squadrons and that region's a low priority except for Luthien and a few other worlds."
"It's going to be interesting to see how Jack Lucas takes that," John noted thoughtfully. "If some of the Fifteenth managed to reach us then it's likely others got across the border into the Terran Hegemony and Lyran Commonwealth. Zabu Kurita's cover-up may not hold once their reports are looked at."
"Hmm. That may not matter. It depends how much influence Lucas has."
John considered that, watching as details of Castle Davion came into better view. "I suppose General Nakazono won't be around to contradict anything he says. And given the Council… Robert will be annoyed that the DCMS has obtained SLDF equipment, but he'll probably be more interested in doing the same than anything else. Kenyon will probably accept anything that puts the SLDF in a bad light and Barbara… I have no idea, actually."
"And then there's McEvedy. I haven't a clue what happened to him in my history." Hanse's reflection in the window shrugged. It was strange that even though no one else could see him he apparently appeared normally in reflections and even video recordings – but only to John.
"He seems to be a sensible man. I don't think he trusts the rest of the Council very far."
"And I think that you just repeated yourself."
"Perhaps. They're not going to pull it back together again, are they?"
Hanse shook his head. "No, they're not. It's too late, John. I'm sorry."
"Life goes on, I suppose." The car swept up a slope and into one of the many gates around the Royal Court. Rather than going further it pulled up outside the Chancellery.
He hadn't asked for the formal entrance but why not. John opened the door and climbed out. When he stood upright he saw Joshua coming down the steps, trailed by Edwina and Mary. "Father!"
"Hello son."
To his surprise, Joshua grabbed him in a bearhug. "Welcome home."
The two women were only a few steps behind Joshua and he was relieved to see that Edwina's face was more tolerant amusement than pent up frustration. "I'm sorry it took so long, Edwina," he offered over his son's shoulder. "I hope you're both well."
"Oh, we're better than well," his wife told him with an odd aside look at their daughter-in-law. "Although you've been working too hard again."
"It's a bad habit, I need you to keep me straight."
Joshua released him and stepped back, taking Mary's hand. "Father, we have fantastic news."
There was a very loud whoop of approval from behind John, which almost made him jump out of his skin. "Oh?" he asked, covering for the reaction to Hanse's shout. "Good news?"
"You're…" Joshua looked aside at his wife and paused.
With a bright smile, Mary lowered her free hand to just above her waist. "You're going to be a grandfather, sir."
John found his eyes going moist. Life, as he'd just said, goes on. "That's wonderful," he said sincerely. Work was damn well going to wait a couple of days. "I can't tell you how happy I am for you both."
.o0O0o.
Atreus City, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
21 July 2779
Carl Marik was surprised to find his younger brother eating a hearty breakfast in the family apartments. Since he'd reached the exalted rank of captain, Thaddeus had been spending time with the new love of his life: FWLS Ospina. "Good morning." He poured himself some coffee and started filling his plate with crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, fresh baby tomatoes and mushrooms.
Thaddeus, still chewing on a mouthful of sausage, waved his fork in greeting and finally swallowed. "Carl. Sleep well?"
"God, yes. Twelve hours of meetings yesterday and the same today. Are you here for…" He hesitated, checking his mental calendar, "A meeting or have you finally been sent home by your crew to use the showers."
"There are perfectly functional showers in my quarters aboard," Thaddeus replied indignantly. "No, father wants me to sit in on a meeting at nine o'clock."
"Huh. The Canopian foreign policy conference?" Carl bit into a tomato, the juice dribbling a little before he licked it off his lips.
"I've no idea."
"That's the one he and I are in then."
Thaddeus took a bite out of his french toast. "Could be. You know how he is."
"How who is?" their father asked, entering the room. Kenyon uncovered a plate already prepared on the buffet and used a napkin to hold the warm dish as he crossed over his seat at the head of the table. Once seated he plucked the hard-boiled egg from where it was between two kippers and put it in the egg cup.
"Security, sir. Need to know."
"Ah yes." The Captain-General started carving up the first kipper with his knife and fork. "More important than ever with Davion intelligence so efficient. Winslow's budget increases alongside the rest of the military's for good reason."
In their father's presence the two younger Mariks finished their breakfasts in silence and left to finish preparing for the day. It didn't surprise Carl that when they left the apartments, each in their own staff cars, the vehicles travelled in convoy through the government complex and dropped them all off at the same place, the portico of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
The conference room the three Mariks were guided to already had a holo-display lit up with the rimwards border worlds of the Free Worlds League visible at the top and a slim line of Capellan star systems to one side, marked in green. The focus were the few dozen worlds of the Magistracy of Canopus, relatively dispersed compared to the densely colonised space of the Free Worlds League or the Capellan Confederation. While the Magistracy's population was far below most of the League's provinces, the space it claimed was almost half the volume of the League.
Kenyon Marik took the head of the table and waited for a few stragglers to take their assigned seating. Carl found himself between Thaddeus and Jared Humphreys, although the Regulan bureaucrat was the last attendee to arrive, slipping into his seat with an apologetic nod towards the Captain-General.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Kenyon began, "We're here to discuss the approach we should take towards the Magistracy in the near future. It's been more than a decade since the SLDF ceased their attempt to bring the Canopians back into the Star League and since then there's been an armed ceasefire between the League and the Magistracy. We'll begin with a review of their economic position."
Jared rose and took over the briefing, spelling out data obtained by Regulan intelligence, supplemented by data shared by SAFE and, to a lesser extent, Star League Intelligence Command. Overall the Canopians were evidently struggling, Carl heard. The backbone of their economy had been providing medical services and entertainment to their neighbours – industries that could hardly thrive when the vast majority of potential customers were afraid of finding themselves in a war zone.
Why is Thaddeus here? Carl wondered. He looks bored stiff.
"At the moment the Canopian economy has probably bottomed out for the foreseeable future," Jared concluded. "They're heavily dependent on trade with the Taurians for several key technologies, which will only make the Concordat stronger but we don't have a border with them. The crash industrialisation on Canopus itself has stabilised most of the key manufacturing sectors but it's done so at twenty-fifth or even twenty-fourth century levels."
Kenyon nodded. "It seems that we hardly need to worry about cheap Periphery goods crossing the border to undercut our own markets. And on the more military front?"
The head of SAFE's Canopian desk was another Humphreys, Carl recalled, one of Jared's distant cousins. The Andurien branch of the family was little represented on Atreus outside of their parliamentary delegation – Carl's grandfather had offended old Radford Humphreys repeatedly, even by his standards. Carl had met Ivory Humphreys a couple of times when they were younger – it was memorable since she and her twin sister Ebony had been dressed in white and black respectively by their mother for the formal balls.
Ivory was wearing white again, although this time it was because that was the colour of FWLM dress uniforms. "Admiral Brandt was in command of the SLDF Army Group operating in the Magistracy from 2765 to 2767. As befitting a naval officer, she was quite thorough in hunting down the Canopians' warships and there's no dissenting data to indicate they had more than the twenty-two warships she destroyed there, unlike the Taurians who definitely managed to hide at least one frigate from General Kerensky."
Carl saw his father smile slightly at that.
"Ground forces are harder to calculate due to large numbers of irregular units and the possibility of equipment being cached by units that disbanded rather than surrender to the SLDF. Our best estimate is that Janina Centrella has consolidated her regular forces into seven 'Mech regiments and fewer than twenty regiments of infantry and armour above the militia level. Given limited military manufacture available to her, there's the possibility of an eighth BattleMech regiment being constituted in the next ten years but it's questionable how effectively her forces can be projected with the available naval transportation."
"In summary then, the Canopians don't constitute a significant threat then?"
"Their offensive capability is effectively limited to raiding and a serious naval presence would constrain that sharply, sir."
Kenyon nodded. "However, if they were to obtain a force of warships that would change the equation significantly."
"Yes sir. I imagine you're referring to the various hulls abandoned in Canopian space as unsalvageable?"
"Quite right."
"If they're unsalvageable by the SLDF, how would the Canopians do anything with them?" Thaddeus directed the question to his father and Ivory equally. "They've got nothing like the industrial capability."
"What's uneconomic for us would be ruinous for them," agreed Kenyon. "However, since it's their only option to restore some sort of warship capability, the possibility that they could bring some of those ships back to at least limited operations at the shipyards over Canopus IV can't be discounted."
"Those shipyards should be basically intact," Carl noted. "The SLDF didn't reach Canopus itself and the yards had some maintenance functions for Eighteenth Fleet."
"That's precisely my concern," his father agreed. "Without those yards the Canopians can be discounted as a problem – and they'd be a distraction we do not need." He looked down the table at Thaddeus. "And that's where you come in, son."
"I do?" Thaddeus tilted his head. "Don't we have a ceasefire with Canopus?"
"It's entirely open to question how binding that jumped-up peasant Kerensky's negotiations with a neo-barbarian are. I certainly don't consider them to have more weight than the security of the Free Worlds League. I'm forming a special task force of four destroyers under your command to escort a number of transports to Canopus and take over the yards. Your orders are to confiscate such supplies as they have assembled as well as any portable tooling, then disable anything that isn't portable. The confiscated material will help us restore the SelaSys yard to full functionality."
"Four ships are a squadron command, sir. I'm a very junior captain."
"Are you saying you can't handle the responsibility, Thaddeus?" their father demanded.
"I'm a Marik, father. There would simply be political considerations."
"As a Marik you'll also be directly representing me there," Kenyon replied. "This is to be a very clear statement to the Territorial States: they may have a stay of execution while the Federated Suns is brought back in line but it's only a matter of time until the Star League restores our control over their worlds."
.o0O0o.
SLDF Headquarters, New Earth
Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony
30 July 2779
Daniel Mattlov had heard the predictions that the SLDF would have its forward bases on Markesan by the end of the year. With the wisdom of a veteran he'd expected that something would go wrong and he'd been right – which was unfortunate but not alarming.
Two convoys moving supplies forwards from the bases at New Rhodes had been hit by Federated Suns carrier groups – or possibly just one group. The timing would be just about possible.
General Apfelbucher had been relieved, since the only way that could have been done was a breach of security. McEvedy had been the only leader to vote against her dismissal but it hadn't carried much weight. After all, the leak would have almost had to have been within the Terran Hegemony somewhere. Probably New Rhodes – John Davion had spent months there at a time, the Federated Suns' Ministry of Intelligence could have dozens of spy rings there.
The results had been many and varied – fourteen destroyers, seven frigates, two cruisers and fifty-seven jumpships had been destroyed, along with over a hundred dropships. The Davion intelligence had even been sufficient that they could pick out the tankers and munitions transports among the flotillas and spare those carrying less critical supplies. Thousands of spacers were alive for that mercy, their lifeboats picked up by the remaining dropships, and the SLDF's Seventh and Eighth Armies – their only real remaining striking power – would not run out of field rations, spare uniforms or toilet paper.
But without fuel and ammunition, they had no choice but to stand on the defensive.
With operations stalled, General Lucas had made a low-profile return to New Earth to try to organise replacement supplies and personnel. Whatever he got was going to be at the expense of the only SLDF army left in the Terran Hegemony, the Eleventh.
It therefore didn't surprise Mattlov that he didn't get a warm welcome.
"I went nine rounds with General Hayes, beg your pardon, I mean Minister Hayes, yesterday. What do you want from me, Mr Mattlov?"
Mattlov forced his temper down. "I've done that dance myself more than once. You have my sympathies."
Lucas evidently bit back his first response. "My apologies for treating you like a politician."
"Unfortunately, I am one now. It leaves a bitter taste."
"Take a seat." Lucas gestured to the small coffee nook and they occupied couches facing each other. Coffee and tea were on offer but the general opened a cabinet built into the table and produced a bottle that hailed from a Scottish distillery. "Are you a drinking man?"
"When I'm not scheduled to fly, which I'm not."
Lucas poured measures into two glasses and handed one over before raising the other. "To the Star League."
"And peace for all mankind."
"Only one lord can give us that, and he isn't on the Star League Council."
It took Mattlov a second to realise that it wasn't a reference to any mortal lord. Lucas' father was a bishop, something must have rubbed off. "Well, we should still do what we can. Which brings me to what I hope is good news."
"Oh?" Lucas sipped on his glass.
"We've managed to restore partial capacity to the Krester Construction shipyards at Keid."
The general raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. I thought it would take years longer."
"We stripped equipment from a dozen other yards. Their reconstruction will take considerably longer – although probably not as long as the lawsuits from the owners of those yards – but it means we have two slips that are clearing to accept ships and three that are less than a month behind."
"That's excellent news for someone."
"For you, if you're willing to agree to a couple of conditions."
Lucas set down his glass and rubbed his chin. Mattlov leant back and sipped what was left of his drink as the other man thought.
"You know we need them," the general said at last. "Besides the squadrons wiped out trying to protect our convoys, more than fifty warships are unaccounted for from the fleet we had in the Draconis Combine. If we can get some of the cripples from the last war back in service then I can at least cover our supply lines."
"I know you need them. But so does Davion. Keid just became a major target and the Hegemony fleet can't cover it and handle our other obligations."
"So, at the same time you give me a chance to recoup my losses, you also want me to add another major commitment."
Mattlov nodded. "A squadron deployment. We're rushing aerospace fighter squadrons into position but we don't have the orbital base structure over Keid for them. The ships don't have to be in perfect working order, as long as they're not immobile targets and we can operate fighters from them."
"Do you have enough fighters?"
"That's not a problem. Pilots we're shorter on but we can manage."
Lucas frowned. "New trainees?"
"Partly. We're easing up on qualifications for… political orthodoxy."
"Political… you're letting people who fought for Amaris into your ranks?" Lucas half rose. "Those men and women are…"
"Some of them were shooting at me," Mattlov reminded him. "It'll be two more years before we finish training the first class of people who didn't have some experience already. We're not in any position to be fussy."
"What is the universe coming to?" The commanding general slumped back into his chair and refilled his glass. He didn't offer Mattlov a refill. "Very well. You said conditions, meaning more than one?"
"Just access to their parts stores. Krester built our Kimagure-class cruisers and their engines take a lot of work to keep in operation."
"That was a selling point when the late Lord Cameron asked for them. What else?"
"That's it, sir. After all, we're on the same side."
Lucas sighed. "That used to mean so much more. Very well, you have my agreement."
.o0O0o.
Zenith Jump Point, Kathil
Capellan March, Federated Suns
12 August 2779
Built at first to maintain jumpships ferrying supplies from the Terran Hegemony to the Taurian Concordat during the Reunification War of two centuries before, the James McKenna shipyards were built at a jump point. It was necessary, since the then-new 'civilian' core ships had little more than station-keeping drives and would otherwise have had to be towed long distances to reach the shipyard.
That same convenience made the yards potentially vulnerable though and the Capellan warships jumped into the star system less than a hundred thousand kilometres from the sprawling complex of docking bays, repair slips, fabrication stations and habitats.
Baltazar Liao clutched his shockframe and looked around the combat information centre of the Du Shi Wang-class battleship Sundermann Liao as the crew raced to bring the ship's systems back up after the jump. The Federated Suns defences around the shipyards would also be rushing to readiness and if they were ready before the Capellans then the battle would begin with Baltazar's squadron at a disadvantage.
The main tactical display – a screen rather than the holo-displays used by the SLDF and FSN – lit up. "Location confirmed," the sensor officer reported. "We're on target. Five Federated Suns warships detected: a carrier and two destroyers out-system, range two hundred forty thousand kilometres, two destroyers on the edge of the shipyard. Possible ID of the carrier group as FSS Novaya Zemlya, FSS Roger Davion and FSS Richard Davion. Other destroyers are…" He paused. "Lola-class, block three, war book confirms them as SLS Rex and SLS Ranger, last assignment supporting General Baptiste."
"Traitors then," the Sundermann's executive officer concluded. Captain Korolev preferred to run his ship from the navigation bridge which left Baltazar sharing the CIC with Oskar Sian and a secondary crew.
"Hostile, at any rate, which is all that matters right now," Baltazar informed him. "What do they have docked?"
"Too early to say, sir," the sensor officer reported apologetically.
"Update me as soon as you know."
The drives kicked in and Baltazar felt the acceleration in his spine. The strike force at his disposal was only ten warships and Federated Suns carriers had shattered such forces before but that usually required repeated strikes and the Novaya Zemlya wouldn't have time to carry out more than one before he was in range of the shipyards.
Besides the Sundermann Liao and her sister-ship the Mica Liao, he had two additional capital ships. The heavy cruiser Solstice had been to Kathil before during the abortive invasion of 2777 and the Black Lion-class battlecruiser Typhon completed the quartet. I'm commanding a fleet of antiques, Baltazar thought. The Typhon wasn't one of the SLDF's Black Lion-class, it was an example of the much older Terran Hegemony class that the modern battlecruisers were named for, and three of his destroyers, the Khalzan, Al Di and Calseraigne, were newly built copies of the same era's Essex-class not the newer class of the same name. For that matter, the Sundermann and the Mica were approaching their fourth century of service.
"Fighters launching from the Novaya Zemlya," came the report.
"Launch our own," Baltazar ordered.
On the display new data popped up around the two ships that were his hole card. The loss of the shipyards at Capella had prevented the construction of new warships to counter the Federated Suns Navy but the civilian shipyards over Liao had managed to refit two Carrack-class transports for his purposes. Now squadron after squadron of aerospace fighters launched from the re-christened CCS Wasp and CCS Hornet, joining those from the Leopard carrier dropships of the squadron.
The swarming defenders didn't deter the Federated Suns aerospace fighters. There were one hundred and eighty of them but each of the Carracks could carry almost that many fighters, so the odds favoured Baltazar's forces. Aware of FSN doctrine, Capellan fighters focused in on the fast Centurions that would be carrying nuclear missiles, leaving the slower Hammerheads for later. It cost more than a dozen of the pilots their lives as brutal autocannon fire ripped their lightweight Thrushes and Cheetahs apart, but very few of the Centurions broke through and moments later Capellan Transit fighters were firing their own autocannon into the Davion heavies.
A handful of Eagles kept in reserve moved to intercept the Centurions that leaked. Light blazed as harried Federated Suns pilots released their payloads far from their targets in order to have their full manoeuvrability available in order to survive. Only a single pair managed to get through and the Khalzan momentarily vanished as nuclear fire tore at its armour. The destroyer was lucky though and emerged battered but operational from the firestorm.
The sensor officer straightened. "New data. New Syrtis-class ship leaving one of the yard slips. A second slip is confirmed as holding a Defender-class ship but…" He paused. "Confirmed, the Defender is opened up and not operational."
Baltazar nodded. The Defender-class were battlecruisers comparable to the Sundermann in age. Alone it would have been hard-pressed even if it could fight. A second carrier, though…
"Why isn't she launching fighters?" Sian asked what he'd been thinking. The officer cupped his chin. "With their wings added they might have broken through." The fighter battle was ongoing, drifting away from the Capellan warships as the balance slowly tipped against the Federated Suns.
"Well she was docked. Maybe she didn't have onboard wings," Baltazar speculated. "She's left it too late though, we're going to enter weapons range of her soon."
"A rare opportunity to destroy one of those butcher birds," responded Sian grimly. His family, once so powerful that the Capellan capital world itself bore their name, had long since been eclipsed in political terms by House Liao but they had an equally long naval tradition and many of his kin had fallen in the fighting around Tikonov. "The Vladislav is moving to try to take the first shot at that."
"Reckless," Baltazar noted. A New Syrtis-class carrier might rely primarily on its aerospace fighters but they weren't entirely toothless as warships. The two ex-SLDF destroyers opened fire as he spoke and the two Capellan battleships replied with their forward particle beams, joined a moment later by the Solstice's mass driver which narrowly missed the Rex. The massive slug instead struck a factory satellite and smashed through it, shattering the station.
"It's possible the ship hasn't been armed yet."
Focused on the incoming capital ships the destroyers could spare little attention for the small corvette and Vladislav opened fire on the carrier with its autocannon. There was unsurprisingly little effect – the relatively puny guns were up against what Baltazar knew to be well-armoured hull. The larger ship rolled broadside on to the Capellan warship and the young Liao tensed, waiting to see if the carrier would return fire. Unless the Vladislav's crew was luckier than their captain deserved then their ship was going to be mangled.
He wasn't and the Vladislav was torn apart.
"That's strange," the sensor officer observed.
"Strange? If Longknife survived that I'll have him court-martialled." It might only be a corvette but it was still a Capellan warship and would be hard to replace.
On the other hand, Solstice's second shot had hit one of the Lolas which was rolling, one flank savaged by the pummelling it had taken. Its sister-ship was little better off, outnumbered three to one by the Capellan destroyers.
"No sir, the weapons fire. It wasn't normal for a New Syrtis-class." The man hunched over his console and Baltazar saw displays shift as sensor data was refined and compared to existing records. "I… K-F signatures, behind us!"
"How many?"
"Two, no three. Standard FSN protocol, two escorts followed by a capital ship."
Baltazar turned to the screen that showed him the bridge. "Captain Korolev?"
"Going to maximum military power. Our fighters can't respond in time. Typhon will take point against the new arrivals," the captain reported calmly. The thus far mild vibrations of the engine rose in pitch as the aged battleship began to spin to bring its heaviest armour and armament to face the new arrivals. If this was the Feddies' battleship then it would be needed.
"What about the carrier?" The ranges were dropping rapidly. "We've just seen that it has its guns."
"They can't avoid close action but neither can we." Korolev looked aside for a moment and then nodded. "Solstice will switch targets, we'll try to take it out quic-"
"Sir!" the sensor officer screamed. "That's not a carrier, it's -"
The world appeared to end. Baltazar was slammed against the shock frame and the lights went out.
"What the hell?" He looked around and sparks flew from one of the consoles, giving him a brief moment of illumination. One wall of the CIC had… bulged inwards, hurling crewmen across the compartment. The engines were silent.
Wrestling himself free of the shockframe, Baltazar checked for Oskar Sian and found the man's shockframe had buckled around him. Gods, was everything on the Sundermann built by the lowest bidder? Blood trickled from the executive officer's mouth and he looked pleadingly at the young Liao for help…
Swallowing, Baltazar realised what the only help he could offer was. He clawed his sidearm from its holster and put the crushed officer out of his agony.
"Sir?"
It was the sensor officer, stumbling to his feet. "What happened?" Baltazar demanded.
"The ship, the New Syrtis…" the man shook his head. "It's not a New Syrtis. Same general hull, but too many guns."
Baltazar took his arm and pulled him after him as he headed for the hatch. They couldn't stay here, they had to get to somewhere with power. "How many?"
"Ten or twelve, I saw double mounts." He coughed as the hatch opened, revealing emergency lights in the passageway and they both smelt smoke. "I saw the name on the hull. Black Bear. That's the name of one of their battlecruisers."
"We turned our back on a battlecruiser?"
The officer nodded, pale-faced.
"No wonder we got battered. Still, one ship." Baltazar opened a panel and found a handset for the ship's emergency system. "Hello? Hello? This is Colonel Liao. I'm outside CIC."
There was a long pause and then a woman's voice. "Colonel, this is Commander Darrell."
Darrell? Oh yes, the deputy engineering officer. "Commander, CIC's out of action. Put me through to Korolev."
"Sir, Captain Korolev is dead, I have conn." She made a noise that was half-laugh and half choke. "Such as it is. Our engines are out and the flight deck is on fire."
Baltazar winced. The flight decks were between CIC and the forward sections of the hull. "Can you contain it?" Great Buddha, the deputy engineer was the seventh officer in command succession.
"Negative," she told him gravely. "The emergency doors have buckled and we can't close them. I recommend you take a lifeboat."
"Abandon ship, you mean?"
"Yes sir. Even if we put the fire out, the Sundermann's got no power for the guns. We're out of the battle."
Baltazar glanced towards the nearest lifeboats. The way looked clear. "Do we know what ships jumped in?"
"Another carrier group, sir. We have over a hundred fighters inbound from behind us." Her voice faltered, "Our fighters are headed back but they're low on ammunition and fuel."
"Wasp and Hornet?"
Darrell's voice steadied but only in the depth of his despair. "Best estimate is that the Feddies will reach them first."
He felt his knuckles hit the bulkhead before he realised he'd smacked his fist against it. They'd been so close. "Relay to the squadron to do all possible damage to the shipyards," Baltazar ordered hollowly. "Then get your people off, Commander."
He dropped the handset and followed the sensor officer towards the lifeboats, feeling the weight of thousands of lives dragging his shoulders downwards.
