An obvious pattern was developing. The ORA ships were trying to push them in a certain direction. It could be a ruse. But it was also an opportunity.
They’d held as well as they could have given the circumstances. Flaps was holding his own. “Doing good, Ensign,” Aaron said. “Keep them guessing. Don’t try to close with any of them. Work us around in a pattern along a port vector, watch those ships flanking starboard.” Aaron didn’t take his eyes from the tactical read out.
Flaps worked his console with frantic motivation. “Aye, Commander, I see them.”
Jumping into this epic mess was unfortunate but necessary. The priority was surviving the initial entry with everyone clustered so close. Now they had some breathing room.
But this fight was already the equivalent of a bar room brawl.
By now, Phoenix had taken several direct and close hits. The polarized armor didn’t lose efficiency over time like a force field. However, to reinforce the field after each strike, drained power from the mains.
And with all systems operating at full battle power, the power reserves would gradually diminish. And the power required to keep all ship systems functioning would outstrip the demands placed on the reactors.
The deck lurched sideways, and the bulkheads seemed oriented the wrong way for just a moment as the gravity system recalibrated to keep things grounded. A nasty salvo had made it past the ship’s point defense screen.
Ayres reported. “We can’t take much more hits like that.”
Aaron opened his mouth, but closed it. Not very useful. Focus.
He saw it. The opening he needed. “Ensign! Make your course, two-six-five mark zero-two-zero. Align us as quickly as you can without bleeding too much speed, and ahead full. Lee, adjust point defense, cover the stern only. XO, deploy the kinetic barrier, cover our escape vector.”
Gravitic charges erupted from small emplacements along the hull. It would push aside incoming ordnance. Missiles could realign, but other unguided projectiles would be pushed away and perhaps into one of the hostile ships.
“Aye, two-six-five, mark zero-two-zero,” Flaps responded.
Phoenix now vectored towards a wall of missiles heading her way, fired from the ships directly ahead.
Aaron decided he was going through those ships. That formation wasn’t closing to engage like the rest. They hadn’t yet maneuvered and simply volleyed more missiles. He suspected they might be missile cruisers.
Having a smaller circumference to protect, it now meant the kinetic barrier fired less gravitic charges, since it would only be targeting incoming ordnance ahead of the ship. And Lee could focus point defense on the approaching rear missiles. Starboard and port were vulnerable, but that was the tradeoff. Without risk, there was no reward.
As if on cue, another missile struck the starboard section.
A new alarm blared. The starboard armor was compromised. It was only as strong as its raw material now, without the enhanced hardening from the electric field formerly coursing through it.
“Commander!” That was the only word Ayres could breathe before disaster.
An explosion blew Phoenix of her vector. It breached the starboard hull plating and obliterated several point defense batteries along the superstructure.
Zane’s voice was shaking. “A mine . . . antimatter mine. Never detected it.”
“Ayres work with Zane. Sweep the area,” Aaron said. “Input what telemetry we’ve got so far on those mines, have the computer analyze our vector for more of them. I know it’s a long shot, Zane, but do what you can.”
Zane shook his head. “Nothing so far.” He slammed his palm on the console. “If they’re there, we still can’t detect them.”
Another powerful, shaped charge from a hostile missile detonated a few hundred kilometers from the compromised starboard section.
“Flanking ships closing from starboard! Starboard rails reloading,” Lee said.
Another violent rumble.
Aaron grimaced. “Ensign, hold your course!”
“Half the starboard armor plating is gone,” Zane said. “We’ve got no point defense coverage there.”
Another missile slammed directly into what was left of the starboard armor.
Garrett’s voice filled the bridge. “Bridge, we’ve lost several power matrices in the starboard section, re-routing power. But main power available is down to 67% we can’t shunt everything through the other matrices, without risking overload.”
Zane yelled. “They’re going to destroy us! Shouldn’t we surrender, Commander?”
Aaron zipped his head around and fixed the scientist with a piercing glare. “As you were, Zane! Focus on your station. Ensign, emergency acceleration, full burn. Engineering, override the safeties. Redline it. I don’t care if the sub-lights blow. Acknowledged, Garrett?”
“I’ve got you, Commander. Disengaging safeties. But I should point out I don’t have spare sub-light engines aboard!”
“Not to worry, Garrett. I prefer to get out of here alive, even if we don’t have any sub-light engines left.”
The ships ahead continued spewing missiles. Definitely missile cruisers—with large missile reserves.
“XO, disengage the kinetic barrier, power down and transfer the energy into the reserves.”
“Kinetic barrier powering down . . . now.”
Aaron eyed several more missiles looming towards the exposed starboard section. Damn this chair. He had to move.
He unclasped his harness and moved to the helm. “Everyone brace,” he said, as he placed his hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “Ensign, bring the bow to starboard zero-nine-zero, maintain z-elevation. We need to keep our starboard away from those flanking ships.”
Still accelerating on a vector toward the missiles cruisers, Phoenix turned to starboard, and the exposed starboard side now faced the pursuers. The forward point defense batteries now oriented to the missiles formerly approaching the starboard quarter and shot them down.
Aaron moved back to his command console on his chair arm.
“Lee, see that cluster of missiles heading directly for us? I’m inputting every variable I can think of, check over the calculations, make adjustments, run it through the computer. Send it back.”
A minute later Lee responded. “Aye, done. It should work, Commander. There’s so many, and our friends behind are all grouped together nice and tight.” He flicked the calculations back to Aaron’s command console with a swipe of his hand.
Nice and tight in space meant about twenty thousand kilometers apart. The Alliance ships were pursuing at full speed as well. They’d long since increased speed beyond combat maneuvering speeds.
No one was maneuvering or trying to evade now. At these speeds, a full turn would require two hours just to realign on any drastic new vector.
“Nine hundred thousand kilometers to the edge of the interdiction field,” Zane reported.
“The incoming wave of missiles will impact in ten seconds,” Lee said.
They’d got all the speed they were going to from the engines now. No need to expend any more power on useless thrust.
“Shutdown the engines,” Aaron said. “Re-route power to maneuvering thrusters.”
Flaps wiped his brow. He glanced over his shoulder. Aaron gave him a reassuring nod.
The forward wave of missiles approached. Two hundred in total. Point defense wouldn’t save them from that. Not two hundred missiles at once, closing a target which in turn, was closing on them.
Aaron braced himself on the helm. “Now, Ensign. Ventral thrust, full power!”
Maneuvering thrusters were just that. For reorienting the ship along a new vector. Rotating on its axis. Now, an overpowered burn from those same thrusters pushed them up one thousand kilometers in less than a second.
The incoming missiles never had a chance to correct for the sudden evasive.