Kennedy Hudner - Alarm of War

“Admiral!” the Sensors Officer yelled in alarm. “Sensors show the wreckage mass at no more than ten tons. Those were decoys , not Victorian war ships!”

Then, from the spot where the first decoy drones had appeared minutes earlier, more ships appeared. And these, the Sensors Officer realized in a sick panic, were the real ships, not decoys.

The laser capacitors shrilled as they began their recharge cycle. It would take at least two minutes to recharge.

All weapons fire!” Emily screamed into the comm. She grinned ferociously. They had caught the Ducks with their lasers recharging. The Ducks had expected a feint, so she had given them a double feint, with her ships emerging where the first set of drones had appeared.

So far, so good.

The cruiser they were targeting was the one on the Dominions’ right flank, closest to Emily’s surviving ships. Ten lasers struck it amidships. Thirty three missiles followed. Twelve were killed by anti-missile fire, but the rest struck home. Incredibly, the Dominion cruiser was not destroyed outright, but it turned sluggishly, trailing an ugly smear of hull plating, atmosphere and bodies, and began to limp away.

“Pull back into the minefield!” Emily ordered, then took a sharp breath when she looked at the battle display on the hologram.

The Galway had accelerated ahead of them, far ahead of them.

“ Galway !” Emily called. “ Galway ! Watch your acceleration; you’re getting too far ahead of us.” But it was already too late.

On board the Dominion battleship Vengeance, Admiral Mello smiled in satisfaction. “Clever, but sloppy, eh?” he said to the unknown enemy commander. He had bet that the Vickies would try something new. He had held back, only firing his auxiliary battle lasers, but hoarding the primary lasers and all of his missiles. Now the Vengeance sat powered down, almost invisible, within easy shooting range of the emerging Vicky warships.

“Fire all weapons!” he ordered.

In one of the corridors on the Vengeance , Cookie felt a heavy vibration through the soles of her feet, and realized that the battleship had just fired its main weapons. Urgency gripped her and she could feel the bile rise in her throat. They had to move faster! She followed five Marines around the corner and found herself facing a dozen or more astonished Dominion soldiers. They all carried sidearms and frantically groped for them as two of the Marines opened fire with their pellet guns. The Tilleke air-powered rifles made their odd ponk! ponk! ponk! sound and half of the Dominion troops spun and crumpled to the deck. Wisnioswski stepped forward, bellowing incoherently, and buried his spear deep in one man’s chest, just below the breast bone. The man’s eyes bulged and he openend his mouth to scream, but Wisnioswski lifted him bodily off the ground and smashed him violently against the bulkhead.

Cookie shifted to the side to clear her field of fire and opened up with her pellet gun. One of the Duck soldiers was raising a radio to his mouth and she shot him twice in the face. The pellets lacked the sheer force of a sonic rifle or the precision of a flechette gun, but they did the job all right. The soldier’s head splattered backward and the radio handset went flying. She looked around. All of the Dominions were down. Beside her, Wisnioswski was grinning broadly, holding up the bloody spear.

“Oh, I like this!” he roared.

“Get one of their pistols, Wisnioswski,” she barked.

He held one up in his other hand. “I got one, Sarge, but can I keep my spear, too?”

“I’ve created a monster,” she muttered. “Everybody, keep moving! Don’t stop!”

More Marines joined them and they surged forward. Somewhere ahead lay the Bridge.

The Vengeance fired its heavy lasers and shot twenty missiles at close range, leaving no time for the Galway to dodge. The Galway was well out in front of the other ships and radiating loudly on the Vengeance’s sensors. It never stood a chance. Its last missile had barely left the launch rails when six lasers sliced into it, leaving the Galway ’s forward missile rooms open to vacuum. It explosively vented air and bodies and debris and began to roll over. But not for long. Of the twenty missiles, fourteen struck it, penetrating deep into its interior before detonating. The result was catastrophic.

The H.M.S. Galway broke in half like a rotten stick. Its stern section spun off in one direction while its torn and mangled bow compartments cart-wheeled off in another. Seventeen crew members were still alive, locked in a small cabin that was airtight. They ran out of air before the cold could kill them.

“Chaff and decoys!” Emily screamed. Both her hands were shaking now and she tucked them into her armpits. “Get back into the minefield!” Sensors had finally located the Dominion battleship that had ambushed them from less than a thousand miles. “All ships, lock onto the Duck battleship and fire lasers! Now!”

She felt the ‘ thrummm’ of the giant capacitors discharging, followed by the familiar screeching whine as they began their recharge cycle. On the holo display, she could see the high-speed trail of the Galway’s Code Omega drone as it sped from the ruined hulk toward the space station Atlas, where itwould report that yet another Victorian ship was lost.

“We are back in the minefield, Captain,” Rahim Bahawalanzai reported from the pilot’s seat. Even the unshakeable pilot sounded rattled.

Emily nodded, already pushing the Galway from her mind as she took in the next threat. Behind them the Dominion battleship had launched another volley of missiles at their last location and she watched as they destroyed several mines. The explosion of the Galway acted like chaff, she thought. The Ducks couldn’t see where we ran to. On the far side of the battle display, the Galway’s Code Omega drone finally disappeared off the screen. Then there was another series of explosions, this time closer, as the Duck cruisers joined in the fun.

“Message from the Kent,” Betty announced. Emily nodded at her to put it on. In a moment a very angry Captain Stein was facing her.

“You’re killing us, Tuttle!” she snapped. “We cannot trade ship for goddam ship with these guys and expect to win.”

Grant Skiffington joined the conference, his face grim. “What are we going to do, Emily?”

“We are going to fall back to the Atlas!” Stein jumped in. “That’s the only card left now. Suffering Christ! We sure aren’t doing any good out here.”

“Emily,” Grant Skiffington began, but Emily held up a hand to silence them both.

“We’re moving to the inner edge of the minefield, nearer to the Atlas. Once there, we’ll position ourselves to shoot the first Dominion ship that sticks its nose out of the minefield.”

“Shoot them! Shoot them with what?” Stein shouted. “I’ve got six missiles left. Six! Half my lasers are gone and my capacitors are taking ten minutes to recharge.”

Emily looked at Grant. He smiled mirthlessly. ““I’ve got half my lasers. I’ve got nine missile tubes functioning and enough missiles for two volleys.”

Emily nodded. The New Zealand had thirteen missile tubes and twenty missiles left, but only five laser batteries still functioning.

“We follow the plan,” she said evenly. “Fall back with me to the inner edge of the minefield and get ready to fire when the first Duck comes through.”

“We won’t survive that,” Stein said flatly.

“The goal is for Atlas to survive,” Emily replied.

“Sweet Gods of Our Mothers,” Stein muttered.