The Black Fleet Crisis_ Tyrant's Test - novelonlinefull.com
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They looped toward the thrustship on individual, indirect flight profiles meant to make them harder to intercept.
"Number three particle-shield generator is off-line--we now have zero reserve capacity," said the tactical officer. "I count eleven Yevethan fighters under way. Green Flight has lost five fighters and two bombers.
Blue Flight has lost three fighters and one bomber.
Red Flight--" A brilliant flare of light flooded the bridge, drawing Brand's eyes to the forward viewscreen. "Was that an egg?"
"Yes," said the tac officer. "Negative on target.
That was Green Two---he must have armed it early, and it blew up under him. Lost three fighter signals at the same time."
"d.a.m.n."
"Commodore, Blue Flight has broken through and is making an attack run on the shipyard." Pointing to the middle of the plot table, the tactical officer identified the two small blue triangles moving toward the red rectangle that was the yard.
Brand nodded grimly and studied the plot. "Good.
We're running short of pieces," he said. "Send Black Flight to help Vanguard. We can't afford to lose that one."
The orbitaLshipyard the ImPerial Navy had called Black Nine was unarmed but not unprotected. In addition to the collision shields needed by any s.p.a.ce- based complex, it was equipped with ray and particle shields comparable to those of a Star Destroyer.
Its guardian thrustships, Tholos and Rizaron, more than made up for the yard's offensive deficiencies. In addition to eight main batteries, each also carried forty fighters in four bays along the ship's equator, and four ten-tube reloadable missile launchers. With their enhanced Imperial shields, they were formidable warships.
The greatest weakness of Tholos was the inexperience of its primate, Par Drann. Like virtually all of his crew, Par Drann had never been in combat--not even to the extent of taking part in the Cleansing.
So when the New Republic ships appeared, Par Drann responded out of the old instincts that governed fighting among the nitakka.
Those instincts, as inherently contradictory as they were innately strong, said the closest threat is the greatest threat-in a right of unequal numbers, dispatch your weakest opponent first-to discourage others from joining a fight against you, charge a newcomer immediately-hold nothing back when you go to kill-So it was that Par Drann's orders to his gun crews kept changing--to attack the gunship that first appeared, then the cruiser that joined the fight, then the vulnerable interceptor screen, then the bombers as they flew past, then the cruiser again as the bombers retreated.
The Yevethan fighter pilots obeyed the same dictums, each singling out the nearest target and attacking it fearlessly, but often breaking off an attack when a closer target appeared.
If Tholos and Rizaron had continued their combined attack on Vanguard, they could have destroyed it before the late-arriving cruiser could do either of them harm. If Par Drann had allowed for it, Tholos could have swept the battlefield clean of New Republic fighters and bombers before turning its attention to Indomitable.
And if the Yevethan fighters had pursued Blue Flight toward the shipyard or Black Flight toward Rizaron, the outcome of the battle might have been different.
But his Yevethan perspective did not allow Par Drann to recognize the threat they posed--not with Indomitable bearing down on him.
"Thetan nitakka, ko nakaza!" he cried. "To the strongest of us, glory in the kill!"
There was fire aboard Vanguard by the time Black Flight attracted the notice of Rizaron. Battery number eight, a twin-barrel laser cannon, had misfired in a spectacular explosion that gouged the entire gun compartment out of the side of the gunship.
Worse, the snapback from a salvo of Yevethan missiles had left the particle-shield generators dead and burning. The next Yevethan missile would explode against the hull, not the shields, and the thrustship's ion cannon were playing havoc with power all over the ship.
Captain Inadi viewed the arrival of the bombers with more apprehension than relief. "They'll never get through," she said, shaking her head.
"Weapons, keep up the counterfire. Let's help them all we can.
Helm, show the enemy our minimum cross section. Systems, give priority to the forward antimissile stations--they have to have power."
With the help of telescopic holo and the electronic battle plot, Inadi and the bridge crew watched the bombers jinking at high speed through the rain of laser blasts and ion bolts. An E-wing accompanying Black Two took a direct hit and spun out, burning. Black Three disappeared in a sphere of white fire, its escorts peeling away and narrowly escaping the hurtling debris.
Just then, Vanguard shook as though it had been hit.
"Damage control is reporting that the fire in the generator compartment has blown through and ventilated to vacuum."
"Noted. Weapons, launch all remaining CM-nines," Inadi said with a frown. "Maybe we can set her up for the knockout."
Three missiles leaped from the bow launchers, another four from the stern tubes. An eighth, located in a launcher adjacent to the destroyed number eight battery, hung up in the tube, starting a third fire.
"Incoming!" shouted the tracking officer.
The Yevethan thrustship had answered Vanguard's salvo with one of its own--a cl.u.s.ter of ten more of the swift, powerful missiles that had destroyed the particle-shield generators.
"Helm, get us out of here," Inadi said grimly.
"I'll do my best."
The 190-meter gunship was among the most agile of the New Republic capital vessels, but it could not come close to matching the acceleration of the enemy missiles. Inadi's hope was that running would give the octets at the stern enough time to swat away all of the pursuing missiles. As she watched the gap close she regretted not having turned the ship sooner.
"Our CM-nines should reach the target in eight seconds," the tracking officer reported. "Bomber escorts have broken off--bombers are launching their missiles now. Confirming release of an egg from Black One--confirming release of an egg from Black Twenty--" Something struck Vanguard astern with so much force that the tactical officer was knocked to his hands and knees and Inadi was thrown hard against the plot table.
"Missile impact," the damage control officer called out.
"Everything's dead back of section forty," the systems officer reported.
"Engines two, four, and six are gone," said the helmsman. "Thrust now at one quarter and falling."
Inadi stared at the plot table as two more fast-moving blips closed on her vessel. "Get to the pods," she said hoa.r.s.ely. "All stations, abandon ship- -abandon ship--" Her answer was a roaring sound, darkness, a fierce light, and, finally, silence.
Hovering five thousand meters above the barren, pitted surface of ILC- 905's third planet, Esege Tuketu and the other members of Red Flight watched the flashes of light overhead as they waited impatiently for their chance.
The order to stand off had come just as they had begun climbing toward the shipyard for their attack run. "Hold your position until we have the results of the attacks underway," said the tactical officer. "I need something in reserve, and you're it."
"They'd better leave some for us," Skids said over the bomber's c.o.c.kpit comm on hearing their instructions.
"We come back with the racks full and no scratches on the paint, and we'll never hear the end of it."
Tuketu said nothing. His eye had been drawn by the first of several brilliant explosions, above and port-side of them. "That was an egg," he said, marking the distinctive pure white color of the flash. "And another."
The third explosion was different--smaller and yellower at first, but longer-lived, and larger and redder at its peak. As it started to fade, there was another series of flashes at nearly the same spot in the sky--three small blue-white flashes, then a blood-red irregular billow.
When Tuketu looked back at his tracking display, both the trailing thrustship and Vanguard had disappeared.
"What was all that?" Skids demanded. "Did we get one, Tuke?"
"Yeah," said Tuketu. "And so did they."
Both the successful attack on the second thrustship and the loss of Vanguard went nearly ignored on the bridge of Indomitable. The focus was the last few seconds of Blue Flight's dive toward the shipyard.
"Two thousand meters to shield boundary," said the tactical officer.
"Fighters are pulling out. Fifteen hundred. One thousand.
Confirming release on Blue One--oh, blast, where'd he come from? Negative release on Blue Three.
Somebody got 'im."
A Yevethan fighter streaking across at right angles to the attack vector had fired on Blue Three, first crippling it and then colliding with the debris. That tiny explosion was swallowed moments later by the detonation of Blue One's egg.
"Find out if the shields are down," Brand said grimly.
"Battery four, give me three bursts on the secondary target."
The laser bolts expended themselves uselessly against nothingness.
The shields were still intact.
"Commodore, maybe the thrustship that's docked there is protecting it."
"No ship that size produces a shield envelope that large," Brand argued. "How did we take out the other ship?"
"Battle a.n.a.lysis says that Vanguard and Black Flight hit that Fat Man with seven CM-nines and ten CM-fives in the seconds before the first egg cracked.
That must have pushed the shields close to their limit."
"Close to their limit," Brand repeated, then stabbed a finger at the plot table, pointing at the thrust ship attached to the shipyard.
"What's the standard radius of an Imperial particle shield?"
"Two hundred meters."
"What's the diameter of a Fat Man?"
"Two hundred forty meters."
"So the one that's docked--it's not fully enclosed by the yard's shields. "
"So what? It has its own shields. Which are sure to be back up by now, even if it did have them down for unloading."
"Exactly. Which means that there should be an interference zone between the two shield boundaries," said Brand. "If we can wedge something in there--" "Then the shields will concentrate and focus the blast, multiplying the effective yield."
"Can a K-wing targeting computer find the interference zone?"
Still trading blows with the lead thrustship, Indomitable shook and groaned around them.
"No," said the tac officer, shaking his head. "But the E-wings ought to be able to light it up for them."
Brand nodded. "Signal Red Flight. Tell them what we need."
Tuketu found it eerily disconcerting to be climbing toward such a huge target and not be receiving any defensive fire. The thrustship docked at the shipyard was completely and inexplicably pa.s.sive to their approach.
"Tactical," said Tuketu. "Has this Fat Man mixed it up at all yet?"
"Negative, Red One. We have not seen any activity."
"Ignoring us so far, too, Tac." He closed the link and 'called back to Skids, "Maybe it's just a freighter. Or a dormitory."
"Doesn't matter to me," said Skids. "You get us there, I'll dent it up the same no matter what it is."
They were not to go completely unmolested--that was too much to expect.
Five Yevethan fighters screamed in from the starboard, sending one E-wing spinning down toward the planet on a plume of smoke and drawing two others away in pursuit. Tuketu increased both his speed and the rate of his evasive maneuvers, challenging his escort to keep up with him.
"Who is that over there, Cover Four?"
"They call me Dogo, sir."
"Well, Dogo, they tell me that somewhere about a hundred meters wide of that Fat Man there's a seam between two shields. You paint it up so I can see it, and Skids here will do his best to rip it open."
"Will do, sir."
The E-wing jumped ahead and shortly after began firing its laser cannon at the invisible wall ahead, neatly sweeping his aim back and forth across its face.
"There it is," called Dogo.
"I've got it--clear out," Tuketu said at the same moment, looking at the line revealed by the E-wing's laser fire. "Looks pretty tight, Skids. Hang on to the egg--see if you can get a CM-five in there."
"I don't need any flapping target practice," Skids grumbled, but complied. "Ready to fire."
"Clear to fire."
"Missile away."
Running up the big third engine, Tuketu began a dizzying pullout.
"Red Two, what do you see?"
"Sorry, Red One--your bird exploded at the shield boundary. Repeat, did not get in. Let me have a run at it."
"Negative," Tuketu said, wheeling the bomber around for another pa.s.s.
"There's something I want to try--" There was a sudden crackle of static, then Red Two came back on, his voice suddenly tight with excitement.
"Tuke, that lead Fat Man's coming back this way--Cover Eight just got toasted."
"Run for cover," Tuketu said. "Take my escort--I've got the target zeroed. Keep the yard between you and the Fat Man. If I don't get in this time, I want you and Flick to put your eggs right on the seam, one-two.
Got it?"