One megagrapper ship. Six uberdreadnoughts. Nine Dreen production dreadnoughts. Three capital ships, emission type unknown, probably converts. Seven grapping carriers. Seven. That meant upwards of four hundred Dreen fighters. The rest were what were identified by humans and Hexosehr as cruisers, destroyers and frigates. Of course, a half dozen destroyers were considered a fair match for the Blade II. This was…
“Well, that’s a hell of a thing,” he said, nodding calmly. “Captain Zanella, kindly ask Colonel Che-chee to join us in our quarters.”
System change over seven percent. Analysis.
‹Energy has been transferred to gas giants creating out-gassing. Method and reason unknown. Emissions from small units detected. Tentatively identified as space fighters or shuttles. Species unknown. Anomaly has changed configuration. Correlation?›
Correlation data preliminary. Analysis of energy spectra indicates inability of species to have effected change. More data must be gathered. Establish communications with Sentient 754-839-847-239. Send small-unit task group to anomaly. Possibility anomaly has fallen into new species’ hands. Attach ground combat task-group.
‹We are loyal.›
“A smaller unit has broken off the main fleet,” Captain Zanella said. “Smaller being a relative term. Six destroyers and three fast units about the same size whose signature we’ve never seen before. And they’re headed here. Estimate one day away.”
“Not much else in the system to head to,” Weaver pointed out. “Are you getting that puckering feeling in your bottom that I am?”
“Fast personnel carriers?” Captain Zanella said. “A boarding party?”
“They’re probably detecting the dragonflies and the changes in the system are going to be really evident,” Weaver said, shaking his head. “Maybe playing the music was a bad idea, but it’s too late to worry about that. Colonel Che-chee.”
“Yes, Captain,” the Cheerick said. “We are prepared to fight in space or on the ground.”
“Yeah,” Weaver said. “But are you prepared to run away?”
“Where are we to run to?” the colonel asked.
“Back side of the sun from them,” Weaver said. “By the Jovian on that side. The Blade’s estimated to return in no more than four days. Could be as little as two, God help them. Your mission is to load up on consumables, pick up your drop tanks and get out into the deep system and hide. Make contact with the Blade when she returns and tell her what this thing is.”
“I would remain by your side, Captain Bill,” the Cheerick said, using the only name they could say before having the Hexosehr translators.
“That’s nice and all that,” Bill said. “But there’s really no reason for you to die, too. We don’t have a way to escape and somebody’s got to be around to explain how this all went wrong. You just drew the short straw, Colonel.”
“Rotator guns here and here,” Captain Zanella said, pointing to two of the intersections. “That closes off the last two approaches to the control cavern. First and Third Platoon will engage the enemy forward, degrading their action capability and determining their action plan. Second Platoon will remain in positional defense, holding the control cavern. Smart mines set to rhino output along all the corridors. Thirty percent on the final two corridors. If the rest bypass them, it means we’ll be able to take out up to thirty rhino-tanks at the cost of not engaging any of the dogs or throwers. Commander’s intent is to hold this position long enough for the Blade to arrive. If it gets here before the main fleet, it may be able to extract noncombat personnel and wounded. Are these orders clear?”
“Clear, sir,” Berg said. The other two lieutenants just nodded.
“Camerone, sir,” First Sergeant Powell said, grinning. “Guess you got me the wrong sign, Two-Gun.”
“I’m planning on seeing the fields, First Sergeant,” Berg said. “We’ve been in worse predicaments before.”
“Name one.”
“That has to be a Dreen brain-ship,” Bill said, looking at the sensor data.
Three of the Cheerick pilots had remained, rotating out from the docking cavern to give the units inside information on the approaching Dreen. Bill sometimes wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just not know.
But he was getting a better and better look at the approaching storm. What had to be a Dreen brain-ship was an immense organic construction, nearly as long as the Tum-Tum Tree and actually massing more. It wasn’t a planetoid, but something made entirely of organic materials. The firepower was going to be immense. Enough to destroy the Tree? Well, it probably wouldn’t have to.
They’d taken a look at Dreen destroyers, or the leftover bits anyway, after the battle at Orion. If you stripped out the weapons systems and just left the engines and life-support, you’d be able to pack quite a few Dreen combat units in one. How many? Well, a lot more than the Marines were going to be able to stop, that was for sure. And the whole task-force, which was less than twelve hours away, would be able to enter the space dock. That meant cover fire from the destroyers for the landing phase.
“The Blade’s not going to be able to engage that force, sir,” Lieutenant Ross said. He’d been acting as the away mission XO and was examining the sensor data trying to find any way out of the trap the team found itself in. “Even if they arrive while it’s still in system. Just the fighters are enough to keep them back.”
The Blade attacked by slashing in at superluminal speeds, dropping out of warp for a brief moment and firing its broadside. Based on the results from Orion, when they’d only had one of the chaos guns, it should work well on a Dreen destroyer and even on the cruisers. It would require a large number of attacks to take out one of the dreadnoughts. It might be impossible to destroy the brain-ship. And each time it dropped out of warp, it was vulnerable to fire. It was only vulnerable for a brief window, but that was generally enough time for the Dreen targeting systems to get some licks in.
But its real weakness was the fighters. They could rarely hit the Blade, but by the same token the Blade’s targeting was designed for getting in close and hitting a big target. Coming in at plus the speed of light meant it had, actually, pretty poor targeting. Sticking around to get a better shot usually meant getting holes blown all the way through it. It was a PT boat up against battleships; stick and move was the only way to survive.
Dreen fighters were too small and too nimble for the Blade to effectively target. And there were going to be a lot of fighters. By itself, there was no way that the Blade was going to be able to do a damned thing about this fleet.
“We need to figure out a way to stop them,” Bill said. “Destroy at least some of them.”
“Well, sir,” Ross said slowly, “I don’t see us being able to slip any Marines on the brain-ship this time.”