At the moment, Commodore Kitano, newly frocked up, had her BatRon 1 drifting in microgravity with their forward batteries aimed at the jump. Kitano commanded the seven big Wardhaven frigates that had been here the longest: Princess Royal, Constitution, Constellation, Congress, Royal, Bulwark, and Hornet, reinforced with the newly arrived Resistance.
Each of the other three squadrons were deployed in a line by divisions to form a loose box around the jump. Commodore Hawkings’s BatRon 2 was high with the new Wardhaven ships, Renown, Repulse, Royal Sovereign, and Resolute brigaded with the contribution from Lorna Do, Warrior, Warspite, Nelson, and Churchill. Commodore Miyoshi’s BatRon 3 held the low position with Haruna, Chikuma, Atago, Tone, Arasi, Hubuki, Amatukaze, and Arare. Commodore Bethea’s BatRon 4 with the big cats from Savannah prowled off to the left.
These last three squadrons were not in battle mode but had extended a pole from one ship to another so that four pairs of ships swung around each other, giving the crew some benefits of down for now.
Twenty thousand klicks behind the four battle squadrons, the Ninth Division with the Helveticans’ Triumph, Swiftsure, Hotspur, and Spitfire held position beside Captain Drago’s own tiny Tenth Division of Kris’s flagship Wasp and the Intrepid. All swung at anchor.
Thirty thousand klicks farther back, Commodore Benson’s reserve squadron of merchant cruisers swung in three pairs as best they could. Unbalanced, each pair did its own crazy little jig. What could you expect from the likes of unicorns, pixies, and leprechauns, Kris heard Navy types grumble.
All the crews: Navy hands, retreads, or volunteers of human or Alwan persuasion now waited for battle in their high-gee stations. Every hour, one of the forward BatRons would break out into a fighting line, and the other would go into anchor mode.
A second board showed Kris that all the ships were green: reactors online, lasers charged, armor and structure undamaged. No doubt, that would change soon enough.
However, the fleet had been waiting for hours for the aliens to make their move, and the bad guys had declined to do much of anything. The periscope into the next system showed the alien mother ship parked ten thousand klicks out from the jump. Her monster brood ebbed and flowed around her. The speedsters were up next to the jump, but they, too, seemed to be waiting for the auspicious moment.
Kris was as prepared for battle as she’d ever be. She waited, wondering if under another star, some alien honcho was sacrificing a goat and studying its entrails. She wished he’d hurry up. Waiting was boring.
At that moment, one of the speedy ships nudged through the jump and began to flip for a hasty return.
One laser from each of BatRon 1’s ships shot out, and the smaller ship vanished in a ball of gas. Apparently, the small guys hadn’t gotten the rock armor.
Half a minute later, a second and a third ship shot out of the jump, accelerating at 3.5 gees. Each was taken under fire by BatRon 1. As the rest of the squadrons deployed for the coming fight, BatRon 1 held the line.
Then there was a long pause. Apparently, another goat was needed for sacrifice. Kris waited for what the aliens might come up with next.
What came through next was tiny but moving fast. Kris thought atomics even as four recharged lasers from Katano’s BatRon 1 tore into it. Whatever it was, it vaporized before it did anything.
“That had plutonium in it,” reported Professor Labao on net. “They’re using nasty stuff.”
“BatRon 5, reverse course a hundred thousand klicks and return to alert.” If atomics were going to be flying around, Kris wanted those folks well back.
“Aye, aye, Admiral,” Commodore Benson replied and began the hard job of shepherding his enthusiastic, if undrilled, charges back. Their line was ragged as they came out of their anchorage, but they did move quickly to obey.
Three more fast movers shot through the jump, accelerating as they came, but dying nevertheless. Kris wondered how long their boss would keep this up. He had less than twenty of the small type left.
This time, three bombs shot out of the jump. The gunners of BatRon 1 were on a hair trigger. Their lasers got all three again before any of them self-immolated.
“Isn’t there supposed to be something about fratricidal destruction of other atomics when one goes off?” Kris asked Nelly.
“It’s in the literature I was able to find. Maybe they don’t know about it?”
“Or maybe they’d be happy if any of them got us, but we’ve caught them before they could arm and explode,” Captain Drago said. “They must have some safeties on them to keep them from exploding on the other side of the jump.”
This time three huge monster ships popped though the jump. Kris had been expecting them. Three had led the way into the system the last time Kris had fought a mother ship and her brood. Three battle squadrons took them under fire. Sixteen lasers slashed into each one as they appeared. The stone armor bled to dust as a second volley speared the alien ships.
They exploded, as reactors suffered damage, and containment failed.
Kris frowned. Boss man on the mother ship must be getting tired of sending ships and none reporting back. What would a frustrated alien killer do? By now, he must know that Kris was holding the bridge. What was her weakness?
“BatDiv 9, hold in place,” Kris ordered. “BatRons 1 through 4, reverse course. One-quarter-gee acceleration. BatDiv 10, reverse course and join the squadrons when they pass. Prepare for atomic attack.”
Kris’s board lit up with acknowledgments as ships immediately responded to her order. In this battle, there was no time for a preliminary order to be followed later by an execute. Kris had rewritten the book. In an hour, she would know if her book was better than the old one.
As the squadrons fell back to 120,000 klicks from the jump, the Wasp and Intrepid flipped ship and joined the withdrawal. Throughout the fleet, any sensor that didn’t have to be out was retracted and covered with armor.
Three small objects shot through the jump and immediately separated into four smaller ones that spun away on wild courses. The four Helvetica frigates took out eight immediately. Their fire controls switched to the remainders as quickly as computers could. Three more vanished. One took a hit, but still blew.
“Low-order detonation,” Professor Labao reported. “Less than a megaton.” He used the ancient form of measurement, one that Kris had no frame of reference for. “Our regular hardening for space’s radiation should handle this pulse.”
That answered Kris’s question before she asked it.
Kris’s screens showed the status of her entire fleet. BatDiv 9’s ships switched from green to red as two reported damage to their sensors.
“BatDiv 9, reverse course, one-gee acceleration. All others cease deceleration. Reverse ship.” The fleet went to zero gee but momentum continued to move it away from the jump, rear first, forward batteries aimed at the jump.
The last holders of the bridge decamped and moved to join the rest. Kris ordered a small deceleration burn to park her fleet 140,000 klicks from the jump. Their 20-inch lasers were still in range. They waited for what came next.
All too soon, it came. The jump began spitting out monster ships every second. BatDiv 9’s rear batteries took out the first one. “Squadrons, engage by Plan A,” Kris ordered.