The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (24 page)

***

“They’re claiming to be part of a ... a Grand Alliance,” the hatchling said.  “They say they’re here to fight the Druavroks.”

“We shall see,” Matriarch Yah-Sin said. 

The awe in the hatchling’s voice was understandable, but she couldn't allow herself to share in his delight - and hope.  The newcomers had an impressive fleet, yet only a tiny percentage of it was composed of actual
warships
.  She had a feeling the Druavroks would tear the fleet apart, if it came down to a real fight, and then resume their attack on her homeworld.  The only advantage she could glean from the whole affair was a chance to reload some of the automated weapons platforms.

“We could fire missiles into their position,” the hatchling suggested eagerly.  “Make them deal with two threats at once.”

“No,” Yah-Sin ordered.  She understood the impulse, but she couldn't allow it to rule her thoughts.  “We hold our fire.”

She ignored his squawk of indignation.  She wanted to help, but what could they do?  There was no way her forces could make a difference, not when the Druavroks were careful not to come too close to her missile-armed battlestations.  It was possible, she supposed, that they would be distracted if she attacked, but she dared not waste the missiles trying to tip the balance.  All she could do was watch, wait and take what advantage of the pause she could.

“Scramble the commando teams,” she ordered.  The Druavroks had been prowling space too closely for her to risk sending commandoes to the lunar bases, but now ... now she could take the chance of dispatching them.  It would win the planet some more time.  “The enemy are distracted and now we hunt.”

She clacked her beak, then looked at the display.  There was no way to help the newcomers, whatever they claimed to represent.  She just hoped - prayed - that they had a few tricks hidden in their feathers ...

... Because, as far as she could see, they were dangerously outgunned.

***

“Entering missile range, Captain,” Brown reported.  His voice was very flat, a sure sign he was trying hard to keep it under control.  “Weapons locked on targets; combat datanet up and running.”

“Fire,” Hoshiko ordered.  “I say again, fire at will.”

She watched, feeling a cold exultation, as her ships began to fire.  It hadn't been hard to mount missile launchers on freighter hulls, even though reloading them during a battle would be next to impossible.  The display fuzzed for a long moment as the missiles were launched, so many missiles appearing on the sensors that it looked like she’d hurled an entire
wall
at the Druavroks, then reset itself, silently informing her that over nine
thousand
missiles were roaring towards their targets.  There were so many missiles that the command network was having trouble organising them into squadrons and pointing them towards their targets.  It was probably a trick of her mind, but she could have sworn she saw the enemy ships
flinch
.

“The enemy are deploying ECM drones,” Brown reported.  “And they’re charging forward.”

Hoshiko nodded, irked.  The enemy CO was no fool - and clearly not inclined to panic, either.  Advancing
towards
her wall of missiles looked stupid, on the face of it, but it was his wisest course of action.  It would give him a chance to bring her ships into
his
missile range before he started losing ships to her missiles.  She mentally saluted her foe, then looked at Brown.

“We will proceed to Deployment Pattern Beta,” she said.  “All ships are to reverse course and head out along the pre-planned route; I say again, all ships are to reverse course and head out along the pre-planned route.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.  New icons flared to life on the display.  “Enemy ships are firing missiles.”

“Clever bastard,” Hoshiko muttered.  Using antimatter shipkiller missiles - even straight nuclear warheads - would allow them to take out bunches of her missiles.  It would be costly, but missiles were cheaper than warships and took much less time to build.  “Order the missile command network to compensate.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.  “The network is already altering targeting patterns.”

But there are limits to just how much they can alter course
, Hoshiko reminded herself.  She’d assumed as much, when she’d been drawing up her plans, but it was still galling to watch it happen. 
The enemy are going to kill a lot of missiles.

Brown looked up, alarmed.  “Enemy missiles are detonating now.”

Hoshiko watched, grimly, as hundreds of missiles died, but there were thousands left to close in on their targets.  The Druavroks had clearly been drilling hard - if she’d wanted confirmation they knew what had happened to Malachi, it was right there in front of her - and yet it still wasn't enough.  Their ECM was no match for human-grade sensors.  They might as well not have bothered launching decoy drones.  She sucked in her breath with savage glee as nineteen battleships and over a hundred smaller ships were blown into flaming plasma, dozens of other ships staggering out of formation as they were badly damaged.  One ship even exploded, two minutes after the last missile slammed into its hull.

Must have skimped on antimatter safety
, Hoshiko thought, vindictively.  It was odd - no one would ever accuse the Tokomak of not taking every last precaution they could - but she couldn't think of another explanation.  A nuke, detonating inside a battleship hull, wouldn’t destroy the ship, merely do a great deal of damage. 
Or maybe it was just a lucky shot
.

“The enemy fleet is picking up speed,” Brown reported.  He sounded torn between relief and fear.  “They’re launching probes and targeting missile locks on us.”

“Let them follow us,” Hoshiko ordered.  The Druavroks had to be
mad
.  She had no idea what their superiors would say to a CO who’d lost a dozen battleships to an inferior fleet, but she doubted it would be pleasant.  “And prepare to drop back into FTL.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

A number of senior government officials and their families fled California today, flying directly to Texas.  Texan forces sealed off the airport where they landed and took them into custody.  Further details have not yet been released by the Texan authorities, but sources in California suggest that the provisional government has collapsed into chaos in the wake of the latest water shortage
.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

Warlord Tomas was
furious
.

Being assigned to Dab-Yam should have been the pinnacle of his career.  The Dab-Yam were holding the line with grim determination, but - like all prey - they didn't have the killer instincts that would turn them into a real threat.  Crushing their defences was only a matter of time, then their world would lie in front of his forces, ready for the taking.  It wasn't as if anyone was going to come to their rescue.  Prey never saw the value in fighting back before it was too late.

But someone
had
come to the rescue.

Tomas hadn't believed the first reports, when a handful of messages had reached Dab-Yam from Malachi.  A fleet largely composed of freighters couldn't hope to crush the planet’s defences, he was sure; he’d suspected, when he’d finished reading through them, that the planetary commander was lying to cover up gross incompetence and corruption. 
Some
prey could be dangerous, some
could
see the moment to strike ... and losing to prey was just embarrassing.  The planetary commander would be lucky, assuming he’d survived, if his eggs weren't cracked and his penis burned off as proof that such stupidity wouldn't be allowed to breed.  Execution might seem a preferable punishment.

He hissed in anger as he glared at the display, silently assessing the fleet that had dropped out of FTL and confronted him, smashing more of his ships than he cared to admit.  It
was
mainly composed of freighters - the reports hadn't lied - and it was armed with missiles that had a longer range than anything at
his
disposal.  Perhaps, just perhaps, the defenders of Malachi had been badly outmatched.  If the prey could hammer more than a dozen battleships into scrap metal and superhot plasma, they could take out a planet’s defences too.

“Continue course,” he ordered.  “Take us in pursuit.”

He kept a wary eye on his crewmembers as the battleship slowly picked up speed.  There was no way to disguise the fact that he’d just taken a beating, that his position had been fatally weakened.  The Great Lords would probably congratulate anyone who managed to assassinate him, particularly if the new commander went on to exterminate the attacking fleet.  He could only rebuild his position by taking out the enemy fleet completely and branding it a victory, even though most of his targets were civilian freighters rather than warships.  And he would have bet his scales that the freighters had fired off
all
their missiles in a single overwhelming salvo. 

The enemy ships were reversing course, moving with an ungainly precision that mocked him, even though the calculating part of his mind suggested the enemy were simply having problems coordinating so many ships.  It was impossible to be
certain
, naturally, but he suspected that the enemy forces included ships from several different species of prey, each one probably looking to its own advantage rather than uniting against the common foe.  There was nothing to be gained by making promises - promises to prey had no validity - but the prospect of splitting their alliance rose up in front of his eyes.  Maybe, just maybe, if he was careful which ships he destroyed, the prey would suspect he’d made a deal with one of their members and turn on one another. 

“Target the warships,” he ordered, as the fleet started to close on its enemies.  “Prepare to fire on my command.”

He bared his teeth and snarled at the display.  The enemy warships were nimble, certainly capable of outracing his battleships, but their freighters were lumbering monstrosities.  They had neither the speed to outrun him nor the defences to beat off his attacks.  And, as long as the enemy were willing to keep their warships within weapons range, he could put the freighters to one side and deal with them later.  The chance to take out a number of warships could not be denied.

“Weapons locked,” the tactical officer said.

“Fire,” Warlord Tomas ordered.

***

The plan
, Hoshiko thought ruefully as the enemy ships belched missiles,
may not have been quite as brilliant as it sounded
.

It had been simple enough.  Sting the enemy, make them mad, make them give chase when she swung her fleet away from the planet.  But her ships hadn't quite managed to build up the speed they needed, leaving them exposed as the enemy opened fire.  And she needed to buy time before the fleet dropped into FTL.

“Deploy decoy drones, then fire a second salvo of missiles,” she ordered, coolly.  “And start the FTL clock ticking down.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.

Hoshiko nodded, then watched as the enemy missiles closed in on her formation.  There were only four thousand, compared to the
nine
thousand she’d hurled into the teeth of their defences, but there were quite enough of them to do some real damage.  Thankfully, the Druavroks didn’t seem to have improved their firing patterns, let alone modify their seeker heads.  A number of missiles would be drawn off and tricked into wasting themselves harmlessly against her decoys.

“The majority of the missiles appear to be targeted on the warships, Captain,” Brown noted, grimly.  “Almost none of them are aimed at the freighters.”

Someone over there has a working brain
, Hoshiko thought.  From a tactical, if cold-blooded, point of view, allowing the enemy to expend their missiles on the freighters made a great deal of sense.  But the Druavroks hadn't made
that
particular mistake. 
They’ve fired too many missiles for us to stop them all
.

“Inform the fleet,” she ordered.  “We are to jump to FTL along the pre-planned course as soon as the drives are ready.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.

***

Warlord Tomas watched, his long tongue licking his teeth, as the missiles plunged right into the teeth of the enemy point defence.  The newcomers, like all prey, had plunged resources into self-preservation, cramming their ships with point defence weapons, but they hadn't anything like enough firepower to stop
all
his missiles.  He had to admit the skill they’d used to craft their network - hundreds of missiles were picked off as they crossed the threshold and closed in on their targets, even though it wasn’t something he could ever say out loud.  The concept of
defending
a starship was alien to his people.

The prey starships fought desperately, but it wasn't enough.  Four warships vanished in quick succession as his missiles struck home, two more fell out of formation as their drives were battered into uselessness.  Their crews had no time to make repairs before a hail of missiles from his ships wiped them out of existence.  But hundreds of other missiles were lured away by the decoys, expended uselessly against cheap drones.  He kept his frustration to himself, even though he was starting to wonder if the prey might have a point.  Their cowardly tactics had preserved the vast majority of their fleet.

“Continue firing,” he ordered.  The prey were belching out missiles themselves, but their rate of fire was much reduced.  He’d been right.  Their missile-armed freighters were one-shot weapons, only good for a single barrage.  “Do not give them a moment to recover.”

He leaned forward, flexing his claws.  The prey would be battered into helplessness and any prisoners they took would be eaten.  Or maybe not, maybe they’d be given the honour of being killed out of hand.  They might have been prey - he was
sure
they were prey - but they were unusually dangerous prey.  The challenge of facing them almost made up for the losses he’d taken in the opening round.

It won’t be long now
, he told himself firmly. 
And then we can go back to Dab-Yam
.

***

“Task Force 2.1 has lost two ships,” Brown reported.  “Task Force 2.3 has lost one ship, but two more are badly damaged.”

Hoshiko nodded.  “Time to FTL?”

“Two minutes,” Brown said.

“Take us into FTL the moment the drives are ready,” Hoshiko ordered.

She leaned back in her command chair, forcing herself to relax.  The enemy was belching wave after wave of missiles, steadily wearing down her point defence.  Their own point defence was pathetic, compared to hers, and their datanet had been knocked down almost at once, but each of their ships had enough firepower to almost make up for the loss of coordination.  A straight fight would be disastrous, if they had to fight one.  If the enemy didn’t take her bait, she would have to abandon Dab-Yam until she built up a far more powerful fighting force.

“Captain,” Brown said.  “FTL in ten seconds.”

And hope to hell this works
, Hoshiko thought. 
Let them take the bait
.

She watched, grimly, as the seconds ticked down to zero. 
Jackie Fisher
shuddered violently as she dropped into FTL, gravity waves striking her hull as the remainder of the fleet followed her.  Normally, a fleet flying in formation could compensate, but her formation was terrifyingly ragged.  It didn't matter, she knew, as long as they reached their destination, yet it was quite possible that one or more of her ships would be accidentally knocked back
out
of FTL.  The irony would be chilling ...

“FTL engaged, Captain,” Brown said.  “We’re
en route
to the rendezvous point.”

***

“The enemy has jumped into FTL,” the sensor officer reported.  His tail dropped, as if he expected to be ripped apart merely for giving the report.  “They’re gone, Warlord.”

And they will come back to harass us
, Warlord Tomas thought. 
Except ... they jumped out far too close to our position ...

“Take us in pursuit,” he ordered.  “FTL ...
now
!”

He allowed his mouth to drop open in amusement as the fleet dropped into FTL.  It was never
easy
to chase ships though FTL, but they were close enough to the prey to shadow them ... assuming, of course, the enemy fleet didn't try to scatter.  Once the prey dropped out of FTL, his ships would follow and smash them before they could rebuild their formation.  He would hit them so hard the Great Lords would never question his success, or punish him for losing so many warships to their first attack. 

“We are in pursuit,” the helmsman reported.

“It’s not easy to track them,” the sensor officer cringed.  “They’re flying in such close formation that it’s hard to locate individual ships.”

“Just keep us following the mass,” Tomas ordered, irked.  Maybe he
would
kill the sensor officer after all.  Bringing bad news wasn't a crime, at least not in his book, but failing to do the obvious definitely was.  “And take us out of FTL as soon as they drop out themselves.”

***

“Sensors confirm, Captain,” Brown reported.  “They’re in pursuit.”

Because we made them mad
, Hoshiko thought. 
And because they think they won’t have a better chance to hit us right where it hurts
.

“Continue along the planned course,” she ordered.  The timing was everything, of course; a second or two might make the difference between success or failure.  And if the plan failed, the fleet would have to scatter and hope for the best.  “How long until we cross the line?”

“Seven minutes,” Captain,” Brown said.  “It’s going to be close.”

“I know,” Hoshiko said.  Sweat trickled down her back as she leaned forward.  “Hold us steady.”