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18

It was thirty minutes before Clement emerged again. He had left a mostly empty bottle of Argyle Scotch on the table behind him. As he walked along the short metal grid and up the steps to his bridge he contemplated the situation. They’d narrowly averted destruction by the clipper’s suicide run, and now he knew the fanatical nature of his enemies. He took his seat back on the bridge and looked to Yan.

“Status of the shuttle mission?” he demanded. Yan cleared her throat before reporting.

“Lieutenant Pomeroy reports that they have taken one of the troop carriers without incident and activated their Directed Energy Weapons. Awaiting your orders, sir,” she said.

Clement nodded.

“Pipe me through,” he said.

Yan hesitated as the rest of the bridge crew turned their heads to look in the general direction of their captain, but none had the bravery to make eye contact with him. Yan left her station and approached her commander. “Sir, I have a concern—”

“You mean ‘we,’ don’t you, Commander?” said Clement, eyeing his bridge team one by one. He stood. “All eyes on me,” he ordered.

Mika, Ivan, and Adebayor turned to face their commander.

“If you’re wondering, yes, I’ve had a drink. In fact, more than one. Seeing the true nature of what human beings will do to other humans has shaken my faith in humanity, but it has not altered my resolve. I may be a man who has had too much alcohol in a single sitting in the past, but I am not at that point now. I am in full command of my capabilities, and clear in my decisions to resolve this conflict. The Earth Ark forces will do anything, sacrifice anything, and anyone, in order to fulfill their dreams of conquest. I will not stand idly by while those dreams crush innocent people, especially the innocents on the planet below us. I fought a war against the 5 Suns Navy for these same reasons, and no, I won’t let go of these people and will do anything in my power to protect them, and us.” He took in a deep breath. “Now pipe in the captured transport, Commander,” he ordered, turning to Yan. Yan reached over to her console, pressed an icon, and nodded to Clement.

“Lieutenant Pomeroy,” Clement said. All eyes on the bridge were still on him. “Report your status.”

“The transport is ours, sir. All of them have been abandoned by the enemy, sir,” came Pomeroy’s scratchy voice through the com.

“That means all their troops and equipment are either on the surface of Bellus already or they have evacuated to one of the cruisers,” replied Clement.

“That is our assumption, sir. We are in geostationary orbit over the work camp now, sir. Our estimate is approximately twelve hundred troops holding approximately three thousand prisoners. They appear to have a dozen armored vehicles on the surface, sir, and a lot of industrial equipment. I would expect mining operations to begin at any time,” Pomeroy concluded.

“Ensign Telco,” said Clement, “status of enemy weapons systems aboard the transport.”

Telco came on the line. “Their Directed Energy Weapons are operational and can be precision-targeted, sir. They left the lights on for us. Only waiting on your orders, Captain.”

Clement nodded. “Target their armored vehicles first, Ensign. Then take out the perimeter fencing and allow the prisoners to escape to any forest area closest to the fences.”

“What if there are infantry units in those areas?” interjected Pomeroy. As ranking officer aboard the transport she was technically in command of the mission.

“Then eliminate any nearby infantry units,” ordered Clement. There was a pause.

“Please clarify last order,” came Pomeroy’s voice over the com.

Clement didn’t hesitate. “Use the weapons at your disposal to eliminate any infantry units that would be in a position to hinder the escape of, or bring harm to, the native prisoners,” said Clement. “Is my order clear?”

Again there was a pause, then a quiet, “Yes, sir,” from Pomeroy.

Clement continued. “From there, destroy the mining tunnels and any heavy equipment in the camp. Scatter the remaining enemy forces. Once the mission is complete I want you back in the shuttle and back aboard the Beauregard ASAP. Are all of my orders understood?”

“Yes, sir,” came Pomeroy’s reply.

Then Clement gave the cutoff signal to Yan.

“Ensign Adebayor, bring up the camp location on the tactical board and throw it to the main display,” he said. She did as ordered and a red-tinted tactical overview of the camp came up on the main board. Information bubbles quickly identified the prisoners, the electrified camp-border fencing, enemy armor, and troop units. They had to wait only a few seconds before the first flashes of DEW light from the transport struck the armored vehicles north of the prison yard. Every few seconds there followed another strike until the armored units encircling the camp were all burning. There was a long hesitation, nearly a minute, until the next burst of DEW fire hit two units on the northern perimeter. They could see individual troops scrambling for cover as the units were devastated by the attacks from their own weapons. The prisoners fled away from the onslaught as the transport’s weapons turned to take out the perimeter fencing. It collapsed and burned like kindling. Realizing their chance, the native prisoners finally made a break for the open land, quickly emptying the prison yard as they fled north and into the forest.

The DEW bombardment was sporadic after that, taking out tactical units, five to six men at a time, if they chose to pursue the prisoners. Those who fled in other directions, away from the flood of escaping prisoners, were left untouched. The troops quickly got the message, and began flooding away from the prisoners. Regrettably, many of the troops fled to the mine shafts for cover, not knowing they had just made themselves targets of the next phase of the attack. Again, after what seemed to Clement to be a long hesitation, the DEW attacks turned to the mine shafts. They collapsed as the ground above was vaporized by six-thousand-degree Kelvin heat. Even reinforced metal or carbon-nanotube-coated materials would be vaporized. The mine shafts would become a crematorium. Once again, the attack abated, and then resumed, finally destroying the large stacks of mining equipment. Pomeroy had followed his orders to the letter.

There was no call of confirmation, just a readjustment of the transport’s course toward the Beauregard. Soon the Beauregard’s shuttle emerged from the transport, heading home.

Clement shut down his station and turned to Yan. “Do we have missiles loaded?”

Yan looked to her board. “Negative, sir.”

Clement called down to his engineer. “Mr. Nobli, send Ensign Tsu up to the missile room and have him load all six missile bays.”

“Is he qualified for that?” replied Nobli.

“He is now,” said Clement. “Tell him to get his ass up there.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Nobli, then shut off the line.

Clement turned to his pilot. “Once the shuttle is back on board secure the ship for acceleration. Best possible speed to that last cruiser group, Lieutenant Ori,” he said.

“We’re going to pursue?” she asked.

“No,” replied Clement, shaking his head for emphasis. “We are going to intercept before they go to ground. Ensign Adebayor, reapply yourself to finding that Earth Ark. I want to know where the big game is hiding.”

“Aye, sir,” she replied.

Clement turned to Yan. “Destroy the empty transports, but leave the one Pomeroy and Telco occupied. We may need it again. And notify me five minutes before we accelerate. Up to five gs is authorized. I will be in my cabin. Orders understood, Commander?”

“Understood, sir,” she said. Then Clement left the bridge, and everyone was silent behind him.


Yan tapped on his door twenty minutes later.

“Come in,” he called.

She entered, noted the empty bottle on the table, and Clement, reclined in his club chair. She absently looked at her watch.

“Five minutes to acceleration. Mika says she might be able to get us to 5.5 gs. That would put us twenty-eight minutes away from the last cruiser battle group,” she said.

“Thank you, Commander,” he replied, staring at the ceiling.

Yan shuffled a bit, unsure what to say next.

Clement stepped in. “If you want to know my condition, Commander, it is as I stated on the bridge, fully capable of carrying out my duties. Regardless of what that empty bottle of scotch may imply,” he said, then looked up to her. “Please sit down.” She did, taking a seat at the conference table. Clement pulled his recliner up to a sitting position. “You want to know why I did what I did?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I understand your decisions. What I want to know is how you feel about them, and ask why we are pursuing a retreating enemy.”

He hesitated, then: “After the last war I swore I would never take a life again unless it served some military purpose. But these Earth troops . . . ” He trailed off. She waited. “They’re much more than just military units. These people are conquerors. Slavers. Genocidal. Fanatics. They don’t fight for a reason or a creed or a purpose, they only fight because they are ordered to. And we have to stop them. If we don’t, who else will?”

“That’s a question you know I don’t have the answer to,” she said. “So you want to pursue the last cruiser battle group, and then what?”

“That cruiser still has a nuke. We do not. It is a threat to every native settler on the planet and to this ship. And although I don’t fancy myself as the defender of the meek, any chance those people have of peaceful self-determination cannot be left to an enemy that has a weapon that could wipe them out in a single flash of light. We will destroy that cruiser, and its weapon,” he said.

Yan had a ready response. “There are some who said that you were indeed a crusader during the War of the Five Suns. A man who did everything he could to defend the meek and vulnerable. Are you sure that you’re not re-fighting that war here?” Her words cut him hard, and he was thankful he’d drained the scotch, to numb his nerves, and his anger.

“That war was unwinnable from the beginning. Most of us knew that. But the Five Suns Congress left us no choice. The Rim planets were starving; that’s why we fought. Here, the settlers have all they need to live, and much, much more. That should be protected for their benefit, as should their right to determine how their vast wealth is used. This is not a revolution, Commander. We’re defending the innocent.”

Yan nodded. “I understand,” she said, then hesitated. “And I agree with you. I will follow your orders, Captain, and I will not question them again.” Then she came across the room and kissed him on the cheek. “And now this ship needs its captain on the bridge.” She extended her hand and he took it, then pulled himself up and walked past her, opening his cabin door and heading for the bridge.


The 5.5 g acceleration was uncomfortable, especially as the acceleration couches weren’t really designed for battle speeds. They tracked the final cruiser group, which had been escaping at just under three gs and had obviously not expected such a hot pursuit by the Beauregard. They appeared to be building up speed slowly for an escape-velocity burn, possibly to the inner planet of Alphus, a habitable planet but much less hospitable than Bellus, and the original target of the Earth Ark before they had changed direction to come to Bellus.

“Time to intercept with that battle group?” Clement demanded from his couch, laying as he was in a reclined position. The tactical board glowed red, projected in the air above him.

“Twenty-four minutes at this speed, Captain,” replied Mika Ori, with more than a bit of strain in her voice.

“How much longer . . . ”

“Six more minutes, for the burn . . . Captain. They . . . are trying to accelerate . . . to reach an escape-velocity . . . burn . . . but . . . we will catch them . . . on the dark side of the planet . . . before they can burn . . . to Alphus.”

Clement reminded himself how small Ori was, and how much the strain of high-gravity acceleration must be on her. It hurt him just to talk, let alone give orders.

He gritted out the final six minutes, until Ori’s speed reduction to 2.5 gs felt like a vacation on a warm beach somewhere. The crew’s couches all slowly resumed a more normal upright attitude as the g-forces steadily ablated back toward a normal one g. Clement decided that a twenty-six-minute burn at 5.5 gravities was about his limit. He knew he would be sore once his body fully absorbed the stress. They hit 1 g deceleration just eight minutes from the cruiser group.

The light attack clippers had formed a double formation, with three clippers in a triangle pointed toward the Beauregard and the other four spaced strategically in a flat line protecting their mother cruiser. It was apparent from this formation that it only mattered to their commanders if the cruiser escaped, not the clippers or their crews. Clement studied the formation. The three forward ships were clearly the sacrificial lambs, and he surmised they would make the first move, likely an aggressive one. The second group of four were much more likely to provide the counterattack to whatever move the Beauregard made. Though they were heavily outgunned, with just fighter-style conventional missiles and low-energy cobra weapons, they could provide enough stings, like a swarm of wasps, to damage the Beauregard and slow her down. Her static shields would protect her from most of the clipper’s ordnance, but a lucky shot could prove damaging to their effort, and any necessary repairs would put them at a major disadvantage.

Clement decided to do what he did best and follow his own battle philosophy: the best defense is a good offense.

“Time to the battlefield, Pilot,” he demanded.

“Six minutes to the triangle formation, Captain. Eight to the flat back four, and eleven to the cruiser,” she said.

“How long until the cruiser can reach an escape vector to Alphus, Navigator?”

“Twenty-two minutes until she can reach her minimum burn vector, sir. After that we’ll have precious little time to intercept her,” said Massif.

“So it’s a very tight schedule.” He looked to Yan. “Let’s act before they do. Prep three missiles for that triangle group, Commander,” he said. She looked a bit puzzled, but complied, then looked at the clock.

“Remind the captain we are still three minutes from firing range on that group, sir,” she said.

“Noted, Commander,” he replied. “Pilot, change course to intercept those three clippers. Navigator, factor in a thirty-degree variation in their course, toward us. As soon as that maneuver is completed, put us back on the course for the main group of four clippers. Calculate how much time that will cost us.”

“Already calculated,” said Ori. She knew her captain. “Three minutes adjustment time, sir.”

Clement called down to the missile room. “Ensign Telco, you and Ensign Tsu are responsible for the loading of my missiles. Whatever we fire, I want replaced immediately. Let me know when we get below ten in supply.”

“Aye, sir,” came Telco’s prompt response.

At this Yan came up to him. “You’re anticipating their attack?”

Clement smiled. “No, Commander, I’m guessing.”

“A hunch?” she replied.

He shook his head. “I call it intuition.”

“Let’s hope yours is better than mine,” she replied, and returned to her station.

Mika Ori turned around to give Yan a look of confidence and a nod. She knew Clement well, and how often his intuition had been proven right over the years.

“At your command, sir,” said Ori.

Clement nodded. “Execute,” he said.

Once again they were pushed back in their couches as the Beauregard changed course toward the group of three clippers, and away from the retreating cruiser battle group at 1.5 gs. Because of the distance between them the clippers could have changed course already, and the light of the maneuver simply hadn’t caught up with their tactical screens yet. Clement had calculated when they would have had to make their move to make a curving strafing run, a time that had passed ninety seconds before. He guessed when their move would have to appear on his tactical screens for him to be right. Otherwise, he had just given up three minutes of pursuit time on the main Earth cruiser on a bad guess. He looked at his watch as the seconds ticked by.

By his count they made their break three seconds late, but it was within the acceptable limits of his calculation. His missiles would pursue and detect, then pick up on the clipper’s heat and electronic signatures. He looked to Yan.

“Missiles loaded?”

“Ready to fire, Captain,” she said.

“At your will, Commander,” he said confidently. She nodded and the tactical board showed three missiles away. “High in confidence, Commander?” he said to her. She smiled at him.

“No reason to waste ordnance, sir,” she replied.

“Pilot?”

“Adjusting our course now, sir, back to the pursuit of the cruiser battle group,” said Ori. “We’ll pull 1.75 gs for two minutes, sir.”

He sank back into the couch again, watching the three missiles closing in on the three-clipper group. They would have seen the launch by now, and perhaps tried an escape maneuver, but it was far too late already. He watched in satisfaction as the three missiles hunted down and destroyed each of their targets with a satisfying burst of light. Briefly, he thought of the nine men or women who had just died, but quickly pushed it out of his mind. In battle, there could only be allies and enemies, and he had no allies in the Trinity system.

“Back on our pursuit course for the cruiser battle group,” reported Ori.

Clement called down to the missile room. “Ensign Telco, how many missiles do I have left?” he said.

“Twenty-seven, sir,” came Telco’s reply. “Six in the launch tubes and twenty-one in reserve.”

“Not enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Yan overheard him.

“So you’re saying we need more missiles? Your solution to every problem?” she said, with a slight smirk.

“True,” he replied. “Time to the cruiser group, pilot?” he asked Ori.

“Three minutes to firing range on the back four clippers, sir. Seven minutes until the cruiser is in range,” she replied.

He looked at his tactical board. Those clippers knew they had to be sacrificial lambs for the cruiser, so their crews must know they were already given up for dead by the cruiser’s commander. He simulated a strategy on his board, counted his missiles again, then called down to the missile room. This time he got Ensign Tsu.

“Ensign, de-rack two of my missiles,” Clement ordered. There was a pause before the reply.

“Confirm, sir, you only want four missiles in the launch rack?” replied Tsu.

“Those are my orders, Ensign,” he said, then cut the line. A few seconds later and the missile-room icon on his board went from amber to green. His missiles were loaded.

“Why only four, sir?” Yan asked.

Clement looked at her. “Intuition again, Commander. Target the Earth cruiser with our four missiles,” he ordered. Yan looked puzzled. Mika Ori turned from her station.

“Sir, we’re still a minute out from firing range on those clippers, and another five minutes before we’re in range of the cruiser. Sir,” she added the last with emphasis.

Clement looked to both women. “I’m fully capable of watching a clock. Now, target the Earth cruiser with our four missiles. That’s an order,” he said.

Ori turned back to her station while Yan programmed in the coordinates of the cruiser. The conventional missiles would fall well short of their target.

“Ready, Captain,” she finally said. “Cruiser is targeted.”

“Time to the clippers, Pilot?” said Clement.

“Nineteen seconds,” Ori replied. When they got within the last ten seconds she counted down to zero.

Clement turned to Yan. “Fire missiles,” he ordered calmly.

They all watched on the tactical display as the missiles streaked out of their launch tubes and began arcing well away from the clippers, on a vector for the cruiser.

“They won’t reach the cruiser,” said Yan. As they watched in silence, suddenly the four clippers started moving, burning fuel in a high-acceleration maneuver. Within seconds, all four missiles impacted the remaining clippers, completely destroying them. The bridge was silent.

“How did you know?” said Yan. All eyes on the bridge looked to their captain for an answer.

“Those clippers were given up for dead by the cruiser commander. They knew facing us was suicide. I guessed they would follow their orders to the letter, and try and intercept any missiles targeting the main cruiser. I was right. It’s what fanatics always do,” he said.

“But our missiles were no danger to the cruiser. They don’t have the range,” said Yan.

Clement shrugged casually. “But they don’t know that, Yan. I counted on their fanaticism overpowering their logic. If they’d calculated the burn rate of our missiles they would have seen that they were no threat. They’d still be alive, and I would be out four missiles,” he said.

“Intuition, again?” Yan asked, giving him a look that indicated she was impressed.

“If you like, or experience. Now, how long until we reach actual firing range on that cruiser?”

“Three more minutes, Captain,” said Ori.

Clement sat back in his couch and contemplated his next move.


The Earth cruiser had started evasive maneuvers at almost the same time as the last of its escort clippers had been destroyed. It was certain she would have multiple countermeasures available to her, including kinetic weapons (basically, small ball bearings or other material shot into a missile’s path), chaff to distract, and possibly even drones that would simulate the cruiser’s telltale signatures for heat and electronics. In Clement’s experience, often hunting a single ship rather than attacking a battle group could be the more difficult proposition. With a single ship it was down to the particulars of a hull’s design capabilities, and their captain’s willingness to use those capabilities. Clement contemplated each factor as he formulated a strategy that would use minimal amounts of his remaining missiles. He had twenty-three left.

They entered firing range with the Earth cruiser still eleven minutes from her escape-burn vector for Alphus. Those would be very long minutes for the cruiser’s captain. Clement decided he needed more information. He turned to his navigator.

“Mr. Massif,” he started.

Massif turned to face his captain. “Aye, sir.”

“Can you calculate the maximum course variability that cruiser can execute that will still allow them to reach their escape-burn point in the minimum amount of time?”

“If you give me a minute, sir,” he replied.

“You have two,” said Clement as the navigator pivoted back to his station to do the calculations. “Lieutenant Ori, no matter what course changes that cruiser makes I want us to stay within the maximum firing range of her at all times. That means stay on her tail, even if we lose some ground, as long as we maintain a firing lock on her.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ori. At this Yan approached his station.

“Why don’t we fire now? We’re in range,” she said.

“We have twenty-three missiles left, Commander. I don’t want to use all of them taking out this cruiser.”

“You’re planning on holding back, for going after the Earth Ark?”

“Do we have a choice?”

Yan contemplated him a minute, then said, “I suppose not,” and quietly returned to her station.

Clement’s thoughts turned back to his present battle tactics. “Mika, can that cruiser fire her nuke at us?” he asked.

Ori turned. “As far as I can tell, not from its current orientation. It seems to be a simple design, weapons in the front, propulsion in the back. Plus, I would bet her main focus right now is running her engines as hard as she can,” she said.

“What’s our time factor?”

“She’s ten minutes from being able to make her escape burn, and we’re seven minutes behind her. But she’s pushing three gs now, which seems to be her max, and we’re steadily losing momentum to Bellus’ gravity and magnetic fields, and thus, time,” Ori said.

Clement turned back to Ori’s husband. “Do you have my calculations, Ivan?” he demanded.

“I do, sir.” He threw his screen to the main tactical display. “She can only move within about a three-kilometer range and stay on her primary vector for the escape burn to Alphus,” he stated. The screen showed the cruiser’s maximum maneuvering range in relation to her escape-burn path.

“That’s pretty wide for a conventional missile,” commented Yan.

“I agree,” Clement replied. “If only we had more information on her missile countermeasures.” Yan smiled as Clement’s face lit up with a slight smile. Then he stood.

“Course, Pilot?”

“Locked in on her, sir,” said Ori.

“Time to burn range?”

“Nine minutes, sixteen seconds,” replied Massif.

He turned to Yan. “Missile status?”

“All green on my board, Captain. Six missiles at your disposal,” she replied.

“Prepare to fire one missile on my order,” Clement said.

“Just one?” quizzed Yan.

“One,” he repeated.

She complied. “Single missile ready, sir. Locked on target for the Earth cruiser.”

“Fire,” he said.

Yan launched the missile. It arced out toward the cruiser, accelerating at hypersonic speed. The cruiser probably had less than thirty seconds to respond before impact. Clement studied the enemy ship closely. She lurched starboard in a “Crazy Eddie” maneuver, trying to escape the incoming missile, releasing chaff and drones as well. The missile turned to follow the cruiser, and then impacted into a cloud of kinetic chaff which caused her to explode.

“Detonation half a kilometer from the cruiser, Captain. Enough to rough her up but not much else,” reported Ori.

Clement stepped forward to Massif’s station and started marking it up, laying plot lines across the screen with his digital pen. He turned to Massif.

“From what I saw, this is her maximum operational variance. Any more and she’ll lose her track on her escape burn, which is her best chance of survival.”

“She is starting to pull away from us, still burning her acceleration thrusters,” interjected Ori.

“Yes, but we can still counter with another high-g burn and catch her. Her captain knows his best chance to escape is right now. We will eventually catch him,” said Clement. “Do you agree with my assessment, Ivan?”

“Unless he has something else up his sleeve, I’d say you have it to about seventy-five percent, sir,” he said.

Clement went back to his station and started typing in coordinates into his tactical screen, then threw them over to Yan’s station.

“Three missiles, Commander. On my mark and on those vectors,” he said.

“Ready,” she said a few seconds later.

“Fire.”

The three missiles streaked out of the Beauregard’s missile tubes, two from the port launcher and one from starboard. They converged on the three courses. Clement waited as they closed on the cruiser, second by second. The cruiser captain tried the “Crazy Eddie” jump to the same side, starboard, as the first time, spewing out her chaff and counter measures.

One missile exploded into the kinetic chaff. The second picked up a decoy drone and exploded a kilometer from the cruiser. The third missile bored straight on, hitting the cruiser directly in her main propulsion unit. The resulting explosion was impressive, but not a kill shot. This ship, most likely the flotilla command ship, was built stronger than her predecessors. She tried desperately to use maneuvering thrusters to keep her from diving into the planet’s atmosphere, but dive she did. Before they hit the upper atmosphere of Bellus, more than two dozen escape pods were birthed out of her as she dropped, a falling hulk, from the sky. They tracked the pods, twenty-six in all, as they fell to the surface on the dark side of the planet. Survival for very long in that environment seemed unlikely, and Clement pitied the survivors, but had no empathy for their plight. They would have destroyed his ship and his crew without a second thought.

They watched together in silence as the empty cruiser, save possibly her captain, entered Bellus’ atmosphere and began burning. To their surprise much of the cruiser made it to the surface before it exploded in a nuclear fireball. Clement hoped the dark side was indeed an empty wasteland, as they had surmised.

He sat back in his command chair, called down to Nobli and Telco and Tsu, thanking them for their work. Then he turned to Ensign Adebayor at the science station.

“Please tell me you have a course on the Earth Ark, Ensign?”

She smiled, her teeth bright white against her dark African face. “I do, sir. Estimate we can catch her in three days, if she stayed true to her original vector,” Adebayor replied.

He nodded, then looked around the bridge at his crew. “Well done today, all of you. Mika, set us in a stable orbit around Bellus for the time being. Everyone take eight hours rest. Then we go to find out where that Earth Ark went, and that may be our biggest challenge yet,” he said.

There was a chorus of “Aye, sir” and then Clement was off to his cabin, laying down, and finding sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


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