16 Hours Later. March 22nd, 2267. 03:25 Slip Space en route to the Kruger system
The moment John had dreaded had come. At the worst possible time. They were thirty minutes away from transitioning back into real space. Admiral Dufresne was contacting John’s squadron. The message was politely worded, ‘Responded at your earliest convenience,’ though in truth that really meant right fucking now.
“Tess, contact Admiral Dufresne and route it to my ready room please,” John said as he stood up, “Walter, the bridge is yours.”
“Aye aye,” said Walter and Tess at the same time.
John sauntered into his ready room. He was steeling himself for the worst possible news. There was a glimmer of hope though. Dufresne was an ally of sorts to John. He was more than willing to let John test the boundaries, though in the moment John wasn’t just testing them anymore. He was outside breaking them.
The viewscreen on the right wall was then turned on. John walked in front of it and quickly sat down. A split-second later Admiral Dufresne appeared onscreen. He was a stern man; John couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or not. Most likely he was annoyed to a degree, but hopefully, that’s all.
“Lieutenant. I’ll cut to the chase, where are you now and why are you not in the Tau Ceti system? Imagine the reinforcement's surprise, not to mention my own, when they arrived and had been told by the locals that you had left the system.”
“First off, my apologies for not being as upfront and open with my location. I made an assumption that our transponders would make that clear. I wasn’t expecting the Cygni system to be utterly inept at transmitting real-time void traffic back to Fleet Command,” John said in a barely conciliatory tone.
“Why don’t you just tell me, and as bluntly as possible I might add, why you are deviating from your orders?”
“Well, technically I’d say we’re still following them, just not in the manner you were expecting. We’re hunting the Icarus. The Basilone is actively tracking them at this time,” John paused, “That’s why we left Tau Ceti and headed to the Cygni system, where we fucked up two more pirate bases, our prisoners are in a temporary barracks in my starboard hangar by the way, and then we destroyed an old shipyard that the pirates had coopted.”
“And Lieutenant Vernon just happened to pop out of slip space near you?” Admiral Dufresne’s face contorted into what best could be described as a resting bitch face.
“Apparently their travels to their rendezvous point were a bit bumpy. They got wind of our broadcasted request for assistance and decided to divert, and render said assistance to us,” John shrugged, “They arrived a bit late for the initial attack but came in damned handy for the attacks in the Cygni system.”
Admiral Dufresne sighed loudly as he looked at a data slate. The awkward silence continued as he scrolled through the information. John couldn’t tell what it was, but he presumed they were the battle reports they had transmitted earlier in the day.
“Well, it looks like you’re making good use of ammo once again. I presume you’re going to continue with this song and dance?”
“Provided y’all don’t rip the rug out from under us. We were six hours behind the Icarus when we left Cygni,” John said plainly, “We’ve made up roughly three hours due to changing slip tides. They are headed to a pirate enclave here.”
“Another staging ground for them.”
“So close to Earth and Alpha Centauri. That cannot stand,” John said as he began sharing his battle plan, “To make a long story short, we’re going to annihilate this base of theirs. And with any luck thin out that heard of ships that are following them.”
“To what end? What is the goal in this?”
“It’s a battle for their morale. They are angry now, but we need to crush whatever hope they have left in them. That will lead to infighting. And that is precisely what we need to happen,” John spoke with sincere conviction, “If they remain united it is going to be a difficult fight for us because they can be anywhere and everywhere. We can’t protect shipping lanes and all of our facilities and hunt them on any scale.”
“Well, you are in luck because we have a five-ship squadron that was ordered to the Kruger system to perform a cursory investigation,” Admiral Dufresne rubbed his forehead, “The Baltimore is another mini carrier like yours, Lieutenant Katherine Park is in command of that squadron, she’ll now report to you. Accompanying the Baltimore is the Monaco, a light cruiser, and three frigates.”
John was about to speak when the admiral raised his hand.
“John, you are playing a damned dangerous game. The ends may not justify the means.”
John nodded, “With all due respect, sir. If we can end the Icarus then the ends will justify the means.”
“Not if you get your fleet killed it won’t. She’s not worth that much,” Admiral Dufresne paused and then leaned back in his seat, “The pirate's resolve is already in the process of breaking. Our estimates had this organized rebellion set to die off within the next week or two.”
“Again, with respect, it’s different now. I don’t have any way of proving this, but I don’t think this is an isolated incident,” John spoke more quietly than he had been.
“Explain.”
“It’s a gut feeling sir. Look, I know how much of an agent of chaos I can be behind enemy lines. I was, and still am despite the rust, really fucking good at what I did. My working theory is that while our attacks pissed them off, something, or someone, was working on escalating issues behind the scenes.”
“The convenience of timing doesn’t sit well with you, does it? Had you considered the possibility that your actions just made their leader pissed at you?”
John shook his head, “The Icarus was respected, but not well-liked amongst the pirates. She was just as likely to hit a pirate fleet as she was a corporate transport. They had burned too many bridges with the largest pirate groups. But now everyone is flying under the same banner? It’s too convenient for them to set aside their differences. Something happened that we don’t have hard intel on.”
Admiral Dufresne nodded, “Ok, I’m convinced. You are to continue with your pirate hunt. You will send regular updates to Fleet Command with your location and destinations if you are set to jump into slip space toward a new destination. Any Confederate Navy ships that you run into can be given the opportunity to be absorbed into your flotilla. You, and you alone, are responsible for the safety of all y our ships. Losing any of them is not going to be a good look for you.”
“Understood, sir.”
Admiral Dufresne grinned, “Good hunting out there.”
John couldn’t help but smile. He somehow kept a scream of joy from emanating from himself. Tacit approval, with his neck on the line, was given. Now they needed some luck to get the Icarus engaged in combat.
14:37 Pirate Enclave -- Kruger system
Panic. Dread. Terror. Dozens of slip space portals were opening. Out belched dozens upon dozens of ships. The emotions of the pirates onboard the abandoned station ran the gamut. Except there was no joy or euphoria seeing the pirate fleet’s flagship appear before them.
In the chaos of the slip space transition, the CNS Basilone jumped into the system. She immediately moved away from the pirates and was not spotted. They were keeping close tabs on the pirates. What they were doing was stunning, they were literally rewriting the books on how to be stealthy. The amount of intelligence they were gathering was truly staggering. And the pirates were none the wiser.
Meanwhile, life at the pirate base was anything but calm. Rumors had flown that the Icarus was en route to them. That led to mixed emotions. Anger and despair permeated the air of the station now that those rumors had come to fruition.
“Hail that fucking ship now!” screamed Michael Young in the command center of the base, “Those stupid mother fuckers!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Hailing the Icarus now,” said a young woman from the communications terminal.
“Long-range scans in slip space show ships, likely the warships trailing them, an hour, maybe two hours behind. Can’t get a clear reading on time,” said Jason Kim, the station’s executive officer, "We're not sure what the five Confederate ships in the system are doing though."
“You have killed us all you stupid mother fuckers!” Michael shouted at Rene when he appeared onscreen.
“We have…”
“No, you listen here, you pompous shit for brains. You have a Confederate kill squadron that is aiming for your fucking head. And they are burning everything they come into contact with. We are next thanks to your fucking war,” Michael was pointing at the screen and frothing at the mouth, “I told you picking a fight with the major powers was an idiotic move. There’s no money in it and they can, and obviously have, punched us back far harder.”
“You are right to a degree,” a contrite-sounding Rene said, “This is the only squadron that is actively doing anything about our attacks. But we are here now and need assistance. We need these components to get our remaining turrets operational…”
Michael shook his head in disbelief. He gestured to communications to cut the audio. Then he looked at Jason, wanting some support from him over the insane situation they found themselves in.
Jason merely shook his head in return, “We don’t have any of these parts. The ones we do won’t work without significant retrofits, which you know neither we nor they have the appropriate facilities for.”
“How many people are presently on the station?”
“Twenty-two hundred and change,” another voice from the rear of the room said.
“Do we have space to get everyone out of dodge?”
Jason nodded, “Not comfortable, but technically yes.”
“Begin evacuation. Advise anyone that remains behind will be killed by the Confederate attack squadron. Whether they join up with these assholes or not is not my concern. They are free to do that or leave for sunnier pastures.”
Michael gestured to unmute his transmission as he turned around, “I’m ordering a general evacuation effectively immediately. Ship captains can make their decision to join your fleet of delusional fuckwads or do what I recommend which is run for the hills.”
“What of our needs?” Rene said without a hint of compassion or empathy.
“No dice,” Michael said curtly, “You are free to loot what you want, I’m leaving.”
The call ended. Alarm klaxons went off throughout the base. Full-scale evacuations were beginning. Two freighters, illegally captured but still bearing their corporate markings, would be used to house several hundred pirates and their families. Over a hundred other smaller ships, most no bigger than a shuttle, would be crammed with people as well.
The pirate fleet descended on the poor station. Minutes after their arrival they began the automated docking procedures. The station’s crew had abandoned their positions. They were choosing life over loot. History would never shine a fond light on their actions, they were pirates after all, but they would be known as the only intelligent pirates in this foolish exercise.
These pirates knew that to be successful they must operate quietly. None would renounce their true calling to be free people. But they learned painful lessons this day. Lessons that would be beneficial in their futures. But that is a story for another time.
The Icarus and her flotilla were in a rush against time. They would be stuck in real space for two more hours. The repairs they’ve done to their slip space generators weren’t complete. For each jump, several maintenance teams would need to inspect and repair each of their functional engines. It was a necessary evil for them to continue their run from the authorities. Those repairs were not only deadly but insanely dangerous to perform while in slip space.
But would they have time to complete those repairs and leave the system? Would they have time to restock the spent munitions? Did the station even have anything they could use? There were so many questions running through Rene’s mind, and the clock was ticking away precious seconds.
16:03 Pirate Enclave -- Kruger system
Slip space portals opened up several hundred kilometers from the pirate station. The Waukesha entered real space first, flanked closely by the Orlando and Boulder. The Lexington stormed out of another portal flanked by the Ugley. The Confederates were here.
Defensive systems for all the ships in John’s fleet were activated immediately. Sensors were hard scanning everything within range to identify targets. Moments later all of their ship's targeting systems were actively tracking hundreds of pirate vessels.
The total number of ships identified was seven hundred forty-three. They had picked up reinforcements since the last time they saw the fleet. John wouldn’t know this at the time, but those reinforcements did not come from this system, a pirate wing containing over two hundred ships had joined them within the past hour.
The important number was nine. There were only nine ships out of that mass of targets that were capital targets. Five frigates, three destroyers, and one beat-to-hell battleship. The swarm of ships was made up mostly of frigates with guns welded onto their hulls or corvettes. In all cases the ships were old, and all of those capital ships had suffered noticeable damage.
“Chester, fire several high-ex volleys at the station, then join the squadron in targeting enemy ships,” John said calmly, “Rex, all ahead flank.”
“Aye, all ahead flank, sir,” Rex said from the helm.
“I’m getting a lot of chatter on the coms,” Emily said, “I’ll begin running some voice analytics on it to find out what the hell is going on.”
Monique then spoke up from her station in the back of the bridge, “The Icarus is still moored on the other side of the station. Its engines are powering up now.”
“I received word from the Confederate squadron, they are a couple hours away from joining us,” Emily said.
“A day late and dollar short,” John nodded, “Emily, advise the fleet to target the enemy destroyers if they get a clear line of site. We need to further erode their ability to do damage to us.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Captain, the station exploding could envelop the Icarus…” Monique paused mid-sentence.
“Yes, it could,” John said nodding, “But the likelihood of causing an explosion in a station is near-nil. Unless the pirates fucked up the maintenance of the building.”
“First volleys impacted the station. Massive damage to the docking ring, minimal damage to the hull,” Chester said, “Her shields are at full.”
“Switch to the ships then, we will have to explode her from within later. Fire at will.”
John was watching the tactical map with keen interest. Over a hundred pirate ships broke off from the swarm and were heading directly towards them. None of the pirate’s capital ships were present in this new attack wing. John correctly identified them as being used as a delaying action.
“Monique, what are the weapon systems like on that station?”
“Based on scans they seem to be typical of most pirate bases. They have sufficiently strong shields and a noticeable lack of guns.”
“The ring is where most of the weapons are, and it got fucking hammered,” Chester said from his station.
“Emily, please advise the Orlando and Boulder to break off and pursue the hostile contacts. We’re blowing past them. Chester, when you have a firing solution on the Icarus, hammer her.”
“The Icarus is moving away from the station, her drive cone is at full burn sir,” Monique said, “As are the rest of the pirate fleet.”
“Time to intercept?” John asked.
“It is increasing now.”
Chester nodded and took action from his weapons console. He began targeting the pirate ship Skyfield. She was the least damaged frigate in the pirate fleet. His firing command sent an unusual command to the helm, the main engines were turned off briefly while the aft thrusters fired causing the rear of the ship to be swung out relative to her target. In doing so one of the forward turrets couldn’t fire anymore. But the space slide maneuver enabled seven turrets, instead of four, to fire.
Twenty-one armor-piercing slugs were fired at ridiculous speeds toward the target. Eight seconds later another twenty-one were fired. Seven volleys were fired before the ship’s attitude was corrected when the pirate ships were about to intercept them.
Three slip space portals formed, roughly perpendicular to the pirate’s plane. This was unexpected, John cursed his luck that more pirate reinforcements were going to show up. To his surprise more friendly appeared.
The CNS Appalachia, Alps, and Cascade, her former squad mates, appeared and began firing multi-rockets at the pirate shuttles. Flanking the trio of missile frigates were the eight destroyers and four corvettes that were also part of their one-time squadron.
Lieutenant Danza, captain of the Cascade hailed the Waukesha, “The band’s getting’ back together.”
John couldn’t help but smile that they were gifted additional reinforcements. He then began looking at the tactical map. Their old friends scored several kills moments after exiting slip space. But what John was really looking for were the pirate capital ships.
“SHIP KILL!” Chester shouted from his console.
Chester called up the long-range visual scanners and replayed the destruction of yet another pirate capital ship. One hundred sixty-eight slugs were fired at her. At the ranges they were dealing with John estimated only three or four would have impacted at most.
The rounds appeared to be guided by the hand of God. That was the only explanation that made sense to explain how thirty-six slugs struck their target. The tired old vessel’s defensive shields couldn’t handle the punishment. The armor plates weren’t up for the task either.
“Rex, belay my order to pursue the Icarus. Begin evasive maneuvers, we’re forced to hunt for mosquitoes this day.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“The Basilone sent a coded intercept, sir,” Emily said, “They are still following the pirates and are in a position to jump with them once they leave the gravity well. They are presuming their next destination is in Groombridge.”
“Monique, get me all intel on pirate activities in Groombridge.”
Every single pirate ship that broke off and attacked John’s growing squadron was annihilated. Quarter was not given to the pirates, even when it was asked. Each and every single ship was hunted down and killed. John was sending a statement to the pirates and everyone else that was watching.
The final thing the Confederates did that day was destroy the old base. The Lexington donated one of its torpedoes this time. Her marines boarded the now-deserted station and transported the torpedo to the station’s primary energy plant. Thirty-five minutes later, after the Marines had successfully exfiltrated from the station the Confederate pirate-hunting flotilla was driving out of the planet’s gravity well. A brilliant blue explosion grew in a micro-supernova that vaporized everything behind.
With the three ships that appeared during combat and the five more that were set to rendezvous with them soon, his squadron continued to grow. More importantly, he was getting bigger guns. Battleships, old and new alike, weren’t immune to mainline cruiser rail fire.
Once more the Icarus escaped from their clutches. While the pirates were reinforced, they lost half of their reinforcements and another capital ship. John’s flotilla was reinforced, that would have to suffice as victory enough today. It was another bitter pill to swallow though. If only they could close the gap to the pirate fleet. If only.