She passed the same word to her sister ship, then began a quick assessment of her shields. She met her engineer doing the same.
“We’re solid, so far,” he informed her.
“It’s going to get harder. No breaks,” she ordered.
Back to the big picture: Sara was just engaging the enemy cruiser. It was two-to-one odds in her favor, but she had to contend with four frigates as well. Combined, those four frigates could mount a formidable offense.
Every gun on the ship barked continuously. Her batteries only had one gunner each, so all the guns in that battery fired on the same target. Most remained offensive, but the massed firepower of two batteries from each of Reba’s cruisers held the frigates at bay. A frigate’s shields simply had no chance against such barrages.
“Bang!” sounded through the net. A shield had been penetrated with a direct hit on the hull. Reba raced to check, but the hull had not been breached. Sara clung to her target, as did her sister ship. A moment later, “Screech!” from a glancing hit on the hull. Her guns kept up a constant pounding.
As bad as it was, Reba knew it had to be worse on the enemy cruiser.
Suddenly, “Bang!” The whole ship shook. Number 7 battery exploded out into space, opening a major hull breach. Reba raced to check on it, but her engineer was already there.
“The AI has it under control,” he said. “I could use some help with the shields.”
“I’ll take forward,” she said. She didn’t wait for a response. She checked in with the gunnery officer, but he had already reassigned the gunner from the destroyed battery to another battery.
“Bang!” again. Reba raced through the net, giving the AI a push now and then as shields became dangerously weakened. “Screech!” Another glancing blow. Reba focused on the big picture again. Her ship’s readiness numbers were acceptable, and so were the numbers of her sister ship. The Chessori cruiser was not doing so well. Its numbers indicated less than 80% shields and 40% guns.
It gave up the fight and turned tail.
Sara’s cheer of victory echoed throughout the web as her fist pumped the air. “Yee-ha!”
Her body, normally sprawled in her seat, even sat up straight, leaning forward to urge the ship faster. “Stay on it,” she yelled to her sister ship. Batteries from both ships opened up on the stern of the fleeing enemy. With so much firepower striking in one place, it’s shields quickly overloaded. The Chessori cruiser exploded violently rather than simply dying, just as its partner had.
Sara chose new targets, the frigates. They knew they had no chance and fled instantly, splitting up in different directions.
Reba put in a call to Trexler for a new target. While she waited to get through, she studied the big picture. Every single enemy cruiser was either dead or close to it. Numerous enemy frigates raced around, almost aimlessly, seeming intent on avoiding contact with the more powerful cruisers. Her own squadron chased down another frigate and took it out in moments.
Suddenly, Trexler came on, speaking to all squadrons. “Disengage. Let the survivors go.”
An anguished cry escaped from Sara. “Nooo! We’re just getting warmed up! Let’s show them what we’re made of.” Angry shouts of agreement from the rest of the crew raced through the net.
Reba agreed with them, but this was Trexler’s show. “Uh, I think we just did,” she announced to everyone.
The battle, as seen by Trexler aboard his flagship, was less personal. The fast ships, invisible until just before attacking, stood off from their foes, pounding away without mercy, the reach of their weapons keeping them out of serious danger. The Chessori responded by ganging up on them with two-to-one odds, but the fast ships held their own, the stronger shields and longer range weapons making all the difference. Trexler did not see any of them skip away with micro jumps. His own ship’s weapons pounded away without a break, but he never felt the ship stagger from a hard hit.
Performance of the seven super squadrons stunned him. Chessori cruisers fell to the awesome firepower unleashed against them, not simply going dead, but dying in violent explosions. The super squadrons quickly picked up new targets and started pounding away again. Additional Chessori cruisers and frigates ganged up on them, but the super squadrons were then able to use all their weapons, not just those facing a single attacker. They defended themselves while jointly taking out one Chessori cruiser at a time.
The Chessori fell back against these formidable opponents, and the super squadrons chased after them, annihilating them.
Twenty minutes after the battle started, the Chessori were down to one on one odds. After that, they had no hope. When the last cruiser fell, the rest of the attackers abandoned the battle, scattering and fleeing away from the planet.
When Trexler ordered his ship to disengage, his own squadron commander came to him with fire in his eyes. “We can get them, Ray. Let’s at least go after the frigates.”
“Jay, our job is done here. We want their survivors to take a message back with them. We want Struthers to know Aldebaran I is his next battle. Nice job by the way. I don’t think any of our fast ships gave away our secret.”
“We never needed to. They know about our improved weapons, and they know we can function despite the scree, but they don’t know about our dancing capabilities.”
The scree faded quickly, and the Empire operations staff, having suffered from the scree for many hours, struggled to get to their feet. His tactical channels were all active, squadron commanders all calling for his attention, but he answered the tight beam from Reba’s cruiser first.
She was out of the net, strands of red hair hanging loose, damp with perspiration from her fighting. They stared at each other for a time, but words were inadequate: a great battle had just been won, the first sector headquarters restored to the Queen, and the Terrans had proven their value. Mike’s plan to bring Terrans to the Empire was right! The battle for Orion III was over.
“Did we lose a single ship, Ray?”
He checked his status board again. Most were green, a couple of dozen were amber, and a few fighters were red. Some were missing. When he looked up at her, he said, “Sixteen fighters. No capital ships.”
A silence held for a long time, then Reba straightened. “Your orders, sir?”
He smiled. “I’m done giving orders for a while. It’s Chandrajuski’s show again.”
“Korban needs to know.”
“That’s a call I’m sure Chandrajuski will want to make. You can let Waverly know.”
“You’re his commanding officer, Ray.”
“Give him a call, Reba. You’ve earned it. I want to have a few words with my squadrons before Chandrajuski gets his act together. Prepare to move back to Orion III, just in case these guys decide to return.”
She raised her hand, palm out, with fire in her eyes. “Aye, aye, sir.” Trexler raised his hand and pushed it toward her, the equivalent of an interspace high-five.
Three tired but elated admirals retired to Chandrajuski’s private office aboard the cruiser. Trexler threw himself onto a couch and stared at Chandrajuski who looked, as always, like he was poised to flee, or on second thought, poised to attack. To Trexler, the Gamordian never looked relaxed, but he sensed calmness in the admiral at the moment. M’Coda’s head was lifted into a position Trexler had come to recognize as his favorite preening position, with his eight lower hands on the floor and his two upper hands cleaning old smells from his antennae, making room for new smells. With his multifaceted eyes that took in whatever was around him, M’Coda didn’t need to face anyone in particular, but he faced toward Trexler. That meant he, Trexler, was likely the focus of M’Coda’s thoughts at the moment.
“We’ve learned a few things today,” Chandrajuski said. “M’Coda and I were out of the picture for most of it, and we’ll have to review recordings later, but something extraordinary happened. We defeated the largest enemy force in the history of Empire without the loss of a single capital ship. Talk to me, Ray.”