Breach of Duty, page 34
Their remaining foe took up the next couple of minutes. The fate of its sister ship didn't dissuade the Exodus cruiser from pressing an attack on the Lion. David recognized its maneuver patterns easily; in fact, it was using general tactics the CDF's cruiser crews had refined over the decades in fighting League battlewagons. And now I'm in the role of the League battleship.
It wasn't a pleasant association to consider.
The problem with these kinds of tactics, of course, was that they presumed League fighters as the threat, not CDF fighters. Hassan's squadrons took advantage of this with a series of attack runs coordinated by Tyler.
"Master One is clearing the station's deflectors," Ruth warned. "It looks like they're opening the holds up."
David checked the viewer. The ship was opening up as stated. From them, familiar long shapes were being formed up from inside.
"Navigation, hard to port, evasive maneuvers," he barked.
Missiles erupted from the open holds in a rippling salvo. They were built for acceleration, presumably to maximize a surprise attack on a planet after jumping, and here it meant there was little time for David's crew to respond.
But Hammond still managed. With expert skill, she shifted the battleship, changing its heading and relative orientation to the oncoming barrage. The Lion's point-defense systems went to work on the missiles as well, destroying many as they came in. Yet more, due to their acceleration and lack of maneuverability, missed the Lion, giving the PD systems plenty of time to hit before the missiles came back around.
But despite all of that, the missile salvo was of such a size and duration that they were never going to escape unscathed. Missile after missile slammed into the Lion's deflectors, taxing them significantly through the repeated initiations of their warheads. The deck shook under David's feet from the kinetic feedback from the deflector shields passing through their moorings into the ship's frame.
The salvo finally ended. "Shields down to forty percent effectiveness," Aibek began. "The starboard shield nearly failed. We have taken internal damage."
"XO, get damage control teams on that ASAP. TAO, status on Master One?"
Ruth glanced back. "Master One is heading away from us at max thrust."
"So she's either shot all she can, or reloading for another salvo will take them time." David directed a glance at Tyler. "Communications, Order Colonel Hassan to direct a squadron or two at that ship, engage to disable."
"Aye aye, sir."
David returned his attention to Ruth. "TAO, status on Master Twenty-one?"
"They're on course to join Master Ten, sir."
David checked the tactical holotank. The Uriel and Solzhenitsyn were closely matched. The cruiser in question would tilt the battle against Ostrovsky.
Ruth spoke up again. "Conn, TAO. I'm picking up more ships coming online from the yard. It appears three more of their cruisers are close to combat readiness."
"We have to end this. Erhart's going to overwhelm us if we don't take him down ASAP." David considered his options. He'd been hoping that Ostrovsky's Marines could make something happen on the station, but so far, nothing was changing.
He keyed the intercom. "Conn, Colonel Demood, you're good for launch. We'll clear a path for you."
There was no hesitation from the other end. "We're launching now."
"TAO, direct all firepower at that station. I want a hole for the Colonel's Marines by the time his shuttles get there."
"Aye aye, sir."
The assault from Erhart's Marines was steady and methodical. With the aid of numbers and knowledge of the station, they advanced forward, using cover fire to the fullest extent. There was no option but to fall back, returning fire as they went.
For Tia, this brought back terrible, bitter memories of the last days she'd spent on her homeworld, of the desperate fight with the megacorps' security troops and the government forces that supported them. A fight she had lost.
She leaned out from the side of the bulkhead junction and squeezed off another shot. The bolt caught one of Erhart's Marines in the shoulder. This had little effect as her target promptly turned his gun on her. Tia barely got back into cover before the bullets flew past her. Her ears rang from the gunfire. The tell-tale vibration through the deck told her that other enemies were advancing through their allies' fire, looking to take their position by storm.
A number of their supporting Marines opened fire on their counterparts, defying the suppressive fire. Vidia came out of his cover slightly to squeeze off a shot. Purple light flashed through the air and scourged the side of one of the attacking Marines. The concentrated X-rays from the pistol bored through armor and cooked flesh, bringing the Marine down for the moment. But Tia doubted the hit was critical. It was too low and too far from the center of the torso to hit anything vital, so the Marine would likely be getting up soon. But at least it was a small reprieve.
"Vidia, fall back to the next bulkhead," she ordered. "We'll cover for you."
"On my way."
At this stage, they're going to push us back to the ship. Tia brought her pistol back up and joined the others in giving suppressive fire for the retreat. I wonder if they have any weapons strong enough to hurt the Shadow Wolf?
Despite their efforts, the oncoming Marines' fire didn't relent. Tia heard a cry of pain from behind her and turned to see where Vidia was now falling to the deck with a bloody wound on the same leg wounded on Cyclades.
"I've got him!" Miri dashed up and brought Vidia back to his feet. They continued on.
Tia returned her attention to the firefight. The various Marines were falling back as well. Her turn came, and she dashed for the next bulkhead section back, heart pounding as she expected to get shot any moment.
That she didn't was thanks to Miri. Miri had one of the rifles taken from the redoubt and laid down a fusillade of bullets. She drew attention more than anything, but it ensured Tia got to relative safety.
Once she was back in cover, Tia activated her link. "Jim, there's too many. We're being pushed back toward the hangar. We could use that reserve."
"Omar's already committed them to this side; he's hoping to outflank Erhart's people."
"Going by the layout we've seen, he'll just get flanked himself when these guys get finished with us," Tia replied. Nearby, there was a cry of pain, and one of their allied Marines went down, wounded in the torso and hip.
"Hold out as long as you can." The order didn't come from Henry but Omar. She heard pain in his voice and realized he'd been injured. "If we don't regain the initiative, we'll never push through."
"Same thing if we're dead," Tia grumbled in reply. Over the gunfire, she could imagine she was back on the streets of Thyssenbourg on the worst day of her life.
One of the Marines nearby spoke up, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the gunfire. "I understand the worry, ma'am, but we'll hold. We don't have a choice."
I wish it were that simple. Tia grimly bit her lip and fired her pistol once more.
On the Shadow Wolf's bridge, Piper overheard the progress of the fight with apprehension turning into fear, specifically the fear that her comrades would be killed while she sat here doing nothing.
The look that Cera gave her told Piper she felt the same way. "A shame it isn't an open space. Th' quads would make short work of 'em."
"The only gun we have that could penetrate these walls is the neutron cannon," Piper answered.
"Aye."
Neither would be able to tell who first had the idea. The only thing they knew for sure was that, within seconds, both had it. Piper turned to her station and relayed gunnery control back to it. She checked the cannon. "The capacitor's still got some charge," she noted. "We could probably get two low-power shots off before we'd have to bring the fusion drive back up."
Cera asked the obvious question. "How do we make sure we don't hit our people?"
Piper was already thinking about that. Sensor readings would help with life sign concentrations, but that didn't tell them who was who, except in Yanik's case. They'd need more to get off a shot that wouldn't kill their people. So how do I tell the difference? It's not like I can call.
The idea snapped into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She used a secondary screen to bring up another bandwidth on the ship's sensors, this one tied into the communications system. One by one, the system detected the links tied into the Shadow Wolf, marking the crew and the Marines they were communicating with.
She compared the two and looked back at Cera. "Fire up the maneuvering thrusters. I'll tell you when I have a shot."
"Aye, figured somethin' out, did ye?" Cera went to work. "Just tell me when t' stop."
Underneath them, the plating rumbled as Cera brought their engines to life.
Piper imagined the personnel outside were stunned to see the ship rise from the deck, but she was intent on the two sensor returns and the geometry of the shots they had to make. "Move us half a meter closer to the hangar door," she said. "And swing us to port by…" She did the calculation in her head. "…forty-two degrees."
"Aye."
The link came alive with Henry's voice. "Piper, Cera, report. What's going on? Why are you moving the ship?"
"We're giving you and Tia some fire support, Captain," Piper replied eagerly. "You might want to shield your eyes."
The warning told Henry everything he needed to know about what was about to happen. "Incoming fire support!" he shouted, choosing Marine terminology.
Marines on both sides that heard him were confused. That kind of warning was usually for surface actions, not boarding action. But the Marines on his side reacted according to their training and held themselves in cover while shielding their eyes.
Those on the other side of the battle weren't so lucky.
Bright light seemed to sear through Henry's eyelids, joined by a low vibration he could feel through the station's deck. It ended after a couple of seconds. He looked forward.
The junction ahead, and the heavy Marine force there, was gone. A hole three meters in diameter now existed through the station's structure, the exterior of it still glowing orange from the friction caused by the solid beam of neutrons punching through the station.
"Tia, take cover," Piper's voice said over their link. "We're turning to take our second shot now."
"You're insane, Piper," Tia replied. "Certifiable."
"If it works, does it matter?" was Cera's flippant retort.
There were some surviving Marines on the other end, those lucky few who had been outside of the beam's path. They were already trying to form a new position.
"Forward!" Henry shouted, rising from cover and firing away with his old rifle. Yanik joined him, as did a captain in charge of one of Omar's platoons.
Their attack was well-timed. The sudden shock of losing so many of their comrades, and from such an unexpected attack, hadn't yet faded from Erhart's forces. All but one went down to the resulting fire before they could return it effectively.
The survivor had enough. He threw down his rifle and raised his hands.
"Secure prisoners!" the Marine Captain called from beside Henry. As he did, they felt another vibration in the deck. Piper and Cera had taken their second shot.
After several seconds, Tia spoke over the link. "They got most of them. We've got a clear path now."
Henry nodded. "Same here. It looks like the shots didn't finish penetrating out of the structure either."
"We kept them to low power, so we didn't have to run the fusion drive again."
Henry grinned and shook his head. Piper was being clever there; the drive wasn't made to be run without producing thrust.
"It would appear we have our opening," Hale said. "Even with our losses, we can push ahead. Erhart won't want to risk getting his Marines wiped out by that neutron cannon."
"Only if he has nothing to gain from the risk," Henry pointed out. 'But you're right about that. It's time we push on."
"And hopefully, Colonel Cohen's people will be joining us soon," Hale added.
Over the years, Calvin Demood had experienced everything he imagined could happen to a CDF Marine. He'd been a part of desperate last stands and equally desperate charges. He'd boarded everything from crippled League battleships to space stations to a stolen luxury yacht. There seemed to be no other experience he could not relate to.
But now he was facing something foreign. Here he was, leading his Marines in a boarding action against their fellow Marines. Not as a war game either, but an honest-to-God fight where he was expected to shoot his brothers and sisters in the Corps, all because their outfits were suborned to Erhart. God help us all. He stared out the cockpit window as the pilot of the lead shuttle brought them around toward the Exodus Station.
The station loomed ahead, protected by its powerful deflector field, and what defense stations had survived the earlier assault by the Shadow Wolf and Colonel Hassan's fighters. That same assault had blasted a hole clear through the stations, giving a field for his shuttles to get through.
But Colonel Cohen was leaving nothing to chance. Free from enemies for the moment, the impressive batteries of the Lion of Judah came to bear on the Exodus Station's defenses. Mag-cannon fire blasted the remaining defense stations to shreds and the neutron cannons blazed away, draining the deflectors in preparation for the final push.
"Marine assault teams, this is Colonel Hassan." The New Arabian pilot's voice was a familiar one to Calvin after all this time. "We're beginning our run. Just keep burning in, and we'll have the hole ready for you, Inshallah."
"Godspeed, Colonel," Calvin replied.
Hassan's fighters had taken only a few losses in the fight, so they made an impressive sight in flying ahead of the shuttles. One by one, missiles streaked from their launch points. They burned ahead at inhuman accelerations to slam into the shields of the station.
Other, larger missiles flew past. The Lion was fully engaging now. The assault shuttles kept on course as the missiles slammed into the deflectors ahead, attempting to overwhelm them and provide the opening needed to get through.
At first, Calvin didn't know if they'd manage it, and a part of him had the selfish thought that if they failed, at least he wouldn't have to command his Marines to shoot at their brethren.
As the pilot called out "ten seconds," the field broke open.
The shuttles accelerated, and one by one, they made it through.
So much for that thought. Calvin used the holo-screen at his command station to check the location of the Shadow Wolf. He considered landing there and reinforcing them, but thought the better of it. The key was to get to Erhart as quickly as possible, and it meant forcing him to defend more than one point so he couldn't hold them up easily. And hope those Marines come to their senses as well.
"Warrant, I've identified our breaching point," he said aloud for the benefit of the warrant officer piloting the craft. "Bring us up."
"Aye aye, sir!"
Calvin quickly checked his suit's seals one final time before bringing his rifle up. "Alright, Marines," he called out. "We've got a dirty job ahead of us. I'm not happy with what's about to start, and I hope to God our comrades don't make us fight them. But we're here to stop a man who's making a mockery of everything we stand for. Remember that."
"Sir, yes, sir!" his command platoon roared through the commlink. It had the appropriate firmness, but it lacked the energy that his Marines gave him when the League was the target of their efforts.
And he couldn't blame them one bit.
A thunk filled the shuttle. "We're attached sir," the pilot announced. "Ready for breaching."
"Let's get to it, Marines!" Calvin yelled.
From his place in the Exodus Station command center, Erhart observed the unfolding conflict.
Beside him, General Farley was staring in disbelief at the damage indicators for the station. "Henry has maniacs working for him," he began. "Firing a neutron cannon inside a space station, what the hell were they thinking?"
"What any combatant is thinking in a fight, General," Erhart replied calmly. "How to kill the enemy and win."
"It sounds like you admire them, sir." The statement was almost an accusation. "They just killed two of our Marine platoons. Those shuttles from the Lion of Judah are burning through the hull as we speak."
"So they are." Erhart gave Farley an intent look. "Where are you going with this?"
"Sir, can we still win? Given how many Marines we have aboard versus what they can throw at us? They still have the Lion on their side. It's going to take a lot of effort to bring it down. The League's thrown everything they have at it before, and it's still here."
A good question. Erhart considered the matter. Indeed, his first inclination was to answer "Yes." The tactical situation was not unrecoverable, after all. He still had Ostrovsky's squadron checked, and more of the Exodus Fleet was going to come online in the coming minutes. He could, with time, overwhelm even the Lion of Judah. But now, he wondered about the other outcome. His opponents were proving adaptable and competent, and even the best tactician could lose to that if the right moves we made at the right time. He could not guarantee victory.
Of course, that was true of any fight. Of every battle he'd been in during his long life, from the pre-war skirmishes with pirates and other foes to the first battles with the League. He'd learned the lesson the hard way decades ago: victory must be earned. The side that won was usually the side that did the most to earn it. So far, he'd made sure it was him, each time.
After all, what had he to go back to? Life in a cell on Lambert's Lament? He'd planned this for so long, had made so much effort—he'd earned this victory. The chance to win the entire war. He'd earned it despite the weakness in his people, the refusal to do what was needed and to make the hard sacrifices that war demanded of everyone. How could he quit after coming this far, and doing all he'd done? The answer, of course, was that he couldn't. Not without making it all a waste. Erhart reached forward and tapped the command link. "Colonel Tarling?"
