Another voice cut into the channel.
“Lieutenant Delaine, I’ve heard enough. End this.”
Aaron stood and stared wide-eyed at the screen as Rachael, who had stood silent behind Ben James, drew a pulse pistol and shot the man in the back. He slumped to the deck—stunned.
She turned back to the monitor. “Our agents will secure the ship momentarily, Supreme Commander,” she said. “We have the files, and the names of the other conspirators, if I may, sir,” she paused. “Aaron, I hope you give me the opportunity to explain after it’s over.”
He didn’t reply.
“Rayne,” Shepherd said, “I’m sorry the fleet is late. Regarding the dribble Ben James just fed you on the coincidences of your assignment, I have one thing to say which I know you will appreciate—truth is stranger than fiction son—coincidences aside. I am no one's pawn although all copies of Ben James were convinced I was. No time to explain now. We have a battle to win. We have to assume The Imperial fleet out there is loyal to Lord Praetor Bannon and we know his objective is Atlas. We may also assume the Imperials are operating without the authority of the Emperor, but that doesn’t mean their lasers will be any less powerful. Now enough babbling. Form up on our left flank. Keep it solid. Captain Rhineheart will try to punch through their centerline. Be ready to assist our forward screen if he buckles.”
Shepherd wasn’t with Ben James. The complexity of Shepherd’s operation baffled Aaron, but a renewed purpose filled him.
Color returned to his face and his voice found strength. “Understood, sir. I wish to recommend Phoenix accompany the center, when you give the order for them to begin their maneuvers. We have some unique abilities which might prove to be a force multiplier in the brawl.”
Shepherd shook his head on the monitor. “Your addition to the offense is unquestionably invaluable. However, I’m worried about being outflanked and may need you to plug any holes in our defenses. So don’t do anything without my order, Rayne.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, SC, Rayne out.”
Flaps turned. “I don’t get it, Commander, why didn’t that weirdo and his buddies just bomb Atlas himself? Why enlist Imperial elements at all?”
“Because,” Lee answered. “Any subsequent investigation would reveal traces of the weapon used, and it would be clear it was ours.”
“Then,” Flaps said. “If the Imperial fleet wasn’t actually about to attack, how could James and his associates raze the planet with a United Fleet, and spin it to the United Systems it was the Imperials?”
“This far out from the core worlds,” Alvarez said. “The only information which will reach the Core is what his ‘associates’ send. There wouldn’t be an independent investigation after an attack of that magnitude.”
“Let’s focus on the now, people,” Aaron said. “We have a battle to win and a war to prevent.”
A chorus of “aye sirs” followed and Aaron keyed his headset to the Fleet.
Each Commander had the ability to listen in on the Fleet frequency. Each wing deployed into squadrons, and only the wing commanders communicated, to maintain synchronized maneuvers. The fleet commander transmitted orders to the wing commanders, who would issue them to squadron commanders who passed them onto their squadrons.
“All wings, target Imperial center formation. All missile batteries, volley on my command—Fire!”
On each command from Shepherd, The United Fleet blasted a harrowing amount of havoc heavy missiles towards the center of the enemy front-line formation. The “Mad Dog” must have hoped he could quickly even this engagement or perhaps outright win it with a knockout blow, using the prototype high-speed ordnance. It was likely the Imperials had no idea they existed. Hell, he didn’t even know they existed until one destroyed his ship. It was a gamble. If they waited too late to use it to their advantage, there might not be much of a United Fleet left. However, declaring their hand early came with its own set of disadvantages—the United Fleet didn’t have an inexhaustible inventory of the new missiles.
The initial results of the missile salvo suggested firing them now was the right choice. Minutes after the missile assault, a dozen Imperial front-line ships exploded. As the opposing fleets closed, the light lag would be negligible, and they’d receive telemetry almost real-time. A dozen more heavy cruisers behind the escort screen faltered from the formation bristling with heavy damage. The volley also struck several battleships, but it would take many more to stop those behemoths.
Flaps pumped his fist. “Right on!”
The image almost made him laugh but Aaron had to address his young pilot. “As you were, Ensign. Keep it to yourself.”
“Sorry,” Miroslav said, lowering his head.
Alvarez raised his voice an octave. “Commander, large energy build-up throughout the Imperial fleet.”
Explosions rippled between the two fleets as unseen beams of lasers destroyed most of the second and third missile salvoes. The Imperials adapted to the unknown weapon, which inflicted carnage on their front-line ships, and used their own advanced lasers as precision point defense. He didn’t know Quintus well, but somehow Aaron suspected he was responsible for the quick reaction throughout the Imperial fleet. Quintus just had the aura of someone who would be a brilliant tactician. The Imperial Lord Commander wasn’t rash and compromised by emotional situations. Just calm and calculating. He respected and loathed his counterpart at the same time. Quintus didn’t want a war, but he didn’t want his people slaughtered either.
Damn you Quintus.
Wing commanders reported in. The front-line screening frigates were moving to engage, following orders from Shepherd.
Rhineheart commanding Delta Wing led the charge. “Delta, stay sharp for laser strikes. Open the formation wider. The longer those beams contact us the more damage we’ll sustain.”
Ten minutes later, both forward elements of each fleet began a hard deceleration. “Fleet, this is Rhineheart—Delta Wing—we’re now one minute until engagement range with hostile contacts.”
Acknowledgements only clogged voice comms, so simple triggered communication clicks informed the sender the message was received and understood.
Explosions erupted on four United Fleet ships in Delta Wing. They faltered and dropped out of formation, adrift. Moments later, they exploded. Lasers left little room for reaction when closing to within one light-second. They also had a greater maximum effective range compared to railguns. Delta Wing would have to get in close. The tactical display registered the heat of the beams and overlaid them on the screen.
The devastating firepower flashed on sensors in the dozens as they stretched from the Imperial front-line formation and wreaked havoc on the approaching United Fleet starships.
Rhineheart cut in. “All squadrons engage evasive maneuvers. We’re quick gentlemen, let’s get unpredictable. Zig and zag.”
Zig and Zag. Aaron recalled hearing it before. Twentieth century sea-going surface warships used this technique to mitigate attacks from submarines, never steaming along a straight path. Interesting that it proved useful centuries later to mitigate the laser weapons deployed by the Imperial ships. It should be an effective strategy. How long could they fire them before they needed to recharge the capacitors? The more they missed or less contact they made with United Fleet ship hulls, the less damage they would inflict.