Chapter 32: Strike Not by Land

Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle
Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
The prescript of this scroll. Our fortune lies
Upon this jump.
Exeunt
- Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene VIII

“Enemy scouts are turning to face us! We’ve been spotted!”

“Enemy consists of one Volumna hive ship, a Vervactor cruiser and three Vacuna scouts!”

By later Swarm standards it was a small fleet, but compared to CSS Barnard Castle, it was overwhelmingly strong. Still, Captain Katseros did now waver – she could not. Over ten thousand souls depended on her and her crew giving their all. Instead she barked out, “Torpedo and beam projectors, lock on the hive sphere, fire!”

“Locking torpedo! Locking beam projectors!” Weapons Officer Ensign Lucie Brennan called, then after the briefest of beats, “Firing!”

On the viewscreen, tracks from one torpedo and two beam projections briefly glowed, quickly fading away.

“Missiles away!” Lucie confirmed, feeling the announcement utterly superfluous.

“Full thrust, set course one-three-zero, up five degrees.” That course would put the enemy fleet square dead ahead.

“Vacunas are peeling off,” the navigator noted. They’re setting a course to bracket us.”

“Emergency speed,” Agathe ordered

“Thrusters on maximum, output 122%.”

The AI broke in: “Captain Agathe Katsuros, this thrust output cannot be safely maintained beyond 15 minutes, 23 seconds.”

“Acknowledged, but this is a battle emergency. Helm, maintain thruster output.”

“Maintaining thrust, Captain.” The helmsman was fatalistic, as if he’d already written off his own life.

As Captain Katseros ordered yet another course change, Lucie checked her telltales. A new torpedo was loaded and ready to fire, both projectors were almost fully recharged. So far, her four point-defence weapons were not required. She carefully noted the nearest Vacuna approaching dangerously close. “Vacuna approaching from our starboard, up ten!” she called out. “We have a firing solution!”

“Shoot!” Agathe spat out, still concentrating mainly on the main threat to forward.

“Shoot!” Lucie called out. A bolt shot out from the starboard beam projector, breaking through the Vacuna’s shields and piercing the hull like a butterfly in a lepidopterist’s collection. The loss of hull integrity caused the vessel to begin to disintegrate as its fuel supply vented flames into the vacuum of space.

“One Vacuna down!” she happily reported. There was no crowing among the crew, although the report did raise their spirits. They well knew there were more and bigger dangers approaching rapidly.

The starboard beam projector slowly went through its recharge cycle. Off to port, the second Vacuna approached incautiously. “Vacuna to port, we have a firing solution!”

“Shoot!” barked Katrseros.

Again, the beam flared out. The Vacuna tried to dodge, but only succeeded in taking the beam full in the engine. The ship was now spinning crazily, the G forces ripping it to shreds as it did so.

Agathe put her tiny command on a crazy course of dips and spins, trying desperately to keep the enemy from getting a good lock on them. The third Vacuna approached somewhat more cautiously than its two sisters.

Lucie fought desperately to get at least one beam projector lined up with the Vacuna, but it was almost dead astern, in the ship’s blind spot. All the while, the far more massive Vervactor drew closer and closer.

“Still can’t get a lock on that third Vacuna!” she warned her captain.

“Keep trying,” Agathe ordered. “Fire when you get a solution!”

Their luck couldn’t hold, and inevitably the Vacuna crossed “above” the ship’s dorsal spine. She felt rather than heard the explosions as her spacesuit stiffened. The bridge was obviously open to the vacuum of space.

But that was the point when the last Vacuna was at its most vulnerable. As it passed along, she fired both beam projectors at it simultaneously.

Even though neither beam projector was completely recharged, it was enough to penetrate the scout’s shields and rip through its central hull. The fuel tanks were nicked, or shredded, or something, and the ship quickly exploded into shrapnel.

Lucie called out, “Target destroyed,” thinking it was probably the most unnecessary remark she’d ever spoken. Now, her attention could focus on the cruiser.

But the ship was veering off course. Fearfully, she turned around.

The damage to the Barnard Castle’s bridge was horrendous. Behind her, in the suddenly weightless vacuum of the compartment, she saw globs of dark red, spacesuit-encased limbs and shattered consoles. Hers was the only intact acceleration chair; the others had either been twisted into pretzel shapes or bisected. Nobody else appeared to be alive on the bridge. Captain Agathe Katseros’ corpse lacked a head and both arms – and Lucie couldn’t tell what, if anything, remained below the waist.

She swallowed the bile and fear threating to make her vomit in her helmet. “AI, am I – are there any other survivors?” she asked, fearful. Did the AI itself survive?

“Affirmative, Captain Lucie Brennan. Awaiting your orders.”

It was alive!! Lucie resumed breathing again.

“Slave helm controls to weapons station. Damage report, please. Can we still fight?”

“All other bridge crew are deceased or presumed so. Engineering crew remains alive, although they have taken injuries, and all stations are manned. Torpedo crew remains alive, uninjured and all stations are manned. Both beam projector crews are deceased or presumed so. The beam projectors are inoperable and not repairable. Point defence is destroyed. The ship has suffered numerous hull breaches. The bridge is completely isolated. Crews quarters have suffered major damage. Shields are down to twenty percent. One quarter of the navigation thrusters are offline, reducing maneuvering by thirty-seven percent. Communications are reduced to short-range, long-range is offline. You are the senior surviving bridge officer. Your orders, Sir?”

While the dismal list of dead or injured crew and damaged or destroyed equipment had been related to her, Lucie had placed the ship back on course for the cruiser and made something of a plan. It might work, it might not – but at this point, she had precious little to lose.

“Roger, copy. Damage control, concentrate on restoring shields and maintaining engines. Engineering, continue with everything she’s got.”

The voice of the ship’s engineer, not even an officer, replied, “We haven’t got much more. The engines are showing the signs of strain now.”

“Give me fifteen minutes. After that, it won’t matter anymore.” She gulped. “AI, can you give me control of that sensor probe over there? And does it have engines?”

“Affirmative. The probe has supralight as well as sublight engines. It is accepting instructions.”

So she wasn’t heading into battle almost completely weaponless. “Aim the probe at the cruiser. Prepare to start probe engines, full on!”

“Course set. As this is intended to take intelligent life, you will have to initiate engine start.”

A button appeared on her control panel. As she pushed the button sending the probe on its kamikaze attack, a loose boot floated across her visor. As she swept it aside, she realized it still contained the remains of a foot.

“Torpedo room!” she called.

“Torpedo room, aye!”