The point defence network went active the moment the missiles entered engagement range, tracking each and every missile and assigning it a priority. Thankfully, this particular group of loyalists hadn’t thought of trying to strip away his smaller ships first — but then, they didn’t have the firepower to stand and fight. Instead, his smaller ships concentrated on protecting their larger cousins instead of protecting themselves. One by one, the missiles flickered and vanished from the display.
“No noticeable improvements to their seeker heads,” the tactical officer commented. There was no point in trying to control the point defence directly. No human mind could hope to handle it in time to make a difference. It required electronic reflexes to pick off all of the missiles. “Their ECM doesn’t seem to have been improved either.”
Colin nodded. The Geeks and Nerds might be the most inventive people in the galaxy, but the Empire wasn’t entirely devoid of innovative thinkers. And, if they did come up with something new for their warheads, they had the industrial facilities to put them into mass production at terrifying speed. Even now, despite all the damage the rebels had inflicted, the Empire still maintained a colossal production advantage. A long war would almost certainly be a lost war.
Unless the Geeks come up with a game-breaker, he thought. But it was hard to imagine what that might be. And manage to produce it in sufficient quantities to make a difference.
The superdreadnaught shuddered once as a missile expended itself against the ship’s shields, without inflicting any damage. Colin allowed himself a moment of relief, then watched as his missiles closed in on the enemy fleet. The enemy CO had been lucky or very good, he realised a moment later, as the ships flickered out of the system. They’d got in, launched their missiles and jumped out again without losses. Colin nodded in silent respect, then turned his attention to the gunboats. They had closed to energy range, launching a small handful of missiles towards their targets. One by one, they were picked off by the point defence.
“Repeat our demand for them to abandon the orbital facilities,” Colin ordered. “And inform them that they have five minutes to comply.”
“Aye, sir,” the communications officer said.
Colin thought rapidly as the timer started to count down. The enemy attack seemed pointless, but it would cost him a great deal of effort to recover the missiles — perhaps more, if they couldn’t recover them before enemy reinforcements arrived. By Colin’s most pessimistic calculations, it was still unlikely that the enemy commander would send superdreadnaughts away from Morrison, but the battlecruiser ambush had been a nasty shock. It suggested that the enemy CO was willing and able to gamble with his ships.
It is the only way to win, Colin told himself. They can’t win a war without fighting.
But it was out of character for any of the senior officers he’d met. They’d all preferred bludgeons to rapiers, the application of overwhelming force instead of subtle tactics. After all, losing an expensive starship could mean being blamed for the loss, even if it had been necessary. And yet… whoever had taken command at Morrison had shown himself willing to risk losses — heavy losses — if it slowed the rebels down. It was worrying.
“Sir,” the tactical officer said, “request permission to start deploying recovery teams.”
“Granted,” Colin said. He glanced at the timer. There were two minutes left before the time he’d given the enemy ran out. “And open fire on the platforms as soon as the timer reaches zero.”
The system CO had evidently had enough of heroics. Instead of trying to fight, the platforms were swiftly evacuated and left abandoned. There weren’t even any point defences to provide cover, as pitiful as it would have been. Colin’s missiles slammed into their hulls, vaporising them one by one. Debris tumbled through space and dropped into the atmosphere of the planet below. Colin wondered, absently, if any of the pieces would hit the facilities on the ground.
Billions of credits worth of investment, he thought. It was pitiful compared to the sheer size of the Empire, but every little loss would mount up. Eventually, the Empire would be literally unable to pay its defenders, let alone meet its other obligations. By then, it would just fragment, no matter what happened to the rebellion. All smashed to rubble.
“All platforms destroyed, sir,” the tactical officer reported.
Colin sat back in his command chair and watched, grimly, as the missiles were recovered and towed to ammunition ships. The enemy could have planned it that way, intending to catch his forces in the act of recovering their missiles. If they turned up with enough force, he would have to bug out, leaving some of his people behind to be killed — or taken prisoner. But, as the seconds slipped away, nothing materialised. The enemy CO didn’t seem to care enough about Parallax to send superdreadnaughts, even with the prospect of catching Colin with his pants down.
There have to be limits to his freedom of operation, Colin told himself. The Thousand Families wouldn’t have given him complete authority…
But who the hell was he facing?
“Admiral,” the tactical officer said. “The missile crews have recovered the last of the missiles.”
“Jump us out as soon as everyone is back onboard,” Colin ordered. “And then set course for the final RV point.”
He forced himself to consider his overall plan. By now, the recon ships would be probing Morrison, studying the defences. It would, he hoped, give him an idea how to tackle the Morrison Fleet. Perhaps they would even pick up something that would identify their mystery opponent.
We’ll meet up at the RV point, he thought. And then we plan our offensive.
He looked down at the console, thinking hard. Few historical battles, even during the height of the First Interstellar War, could be considered decisive. No matter the winners or losers, the wars had been fought out on such a scale that no battle had truly settled the issue. But now… if the rebels suffered major losses at Morrison it could be disastrous. Unlike the Dathi, they were in no shape to replace their losses and wouldn’t be for years to come.
Whatever happens at Morrison, he told himself, once again, will decide the fate of the war.
“All ships have checked in, Commodore,” the communications officer said. “No major damage, certainly nothing inflicted by the enemy. Fury suffered a drive node glitch that will need replacing, but her drive field remained intact.”
Lucky for her, Sahrye thought. If the battlecruiser had suffered a drive failure in the midst of combat, the results would have been disastrous. She would have been overwhelmed and blown to atoms before her flicker drive could have yanked her out of the battle. Even so, they’d given the rebels a nasty fright and confirmed — as if they hadn’t already known — that the rebels were moving towards Morrison.
“All ships preformed well,” she said. They’d had luck on their side too, as well as good judgement and intensive training. Once they realised that they’d pulled off a victory, of sorts, crew morale would skyrocket. “Set course for Morrison. More sedately, this time.”