Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

April 28 2184, 14:43 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Destroyer "Thermopylae" In Lagrange Point 1

One hundred and thirty seven. That was how many thermal signatures Lieutenant Walker said the Thermopylae's spectrometer had detected at extreme range. They all matched the set data for known Fist of Jupiter ships, except for the larger ones. Sheffield guessed those were the Destroyers. He was by no means eager to see them in action.
He gazed out the port and starboard view screens at the United Solar Naval Initiative's ships. Every ship was repaired and fully functional. The fleet was at full strength. It was by every standard a staggering force. There were nearly twice as many ships as Sheffield would have thought possible. He'd only just been told that Venus' ship yards had been constructing ships for over two years. There was another shipyard that's location was classified, even from him. Even so, they still only had fifty two capital ships. He grimaced when he compared the two numbers. Once again, basic mathematics gave the enemy the upper hand. It was never that simple though.
Tactically speaking, they had a lot going for them. The combined firepower from the Alamo and the Germania could very easily make up the difference. Both of the High Planetary Orbit bases had broken from their geosynchronous orbits and were now in position. They formed a line between the Earth and the Moon. Right in the middle of both was the fleet. They filled out the small Lagrange point in that location; the ships were left with a hairsbreadth of maneuvering room. The area was right where Earth's gravitational field was cancelled out by the moons. This strategic area allowed the USNI ships to maintain their position and formation without wasting energy to do so. They could devote it all to recharging the capacitors for their rail guns.

"Orders sir?" Walker asked.
He could hear the tension in her voice but she was a warrior. It would take more than impossible odds for her to break. "Maintain position. Charge the main cannon to one hundred percent."
"It's already done, sir," she said.
"Good," he replied. "Now it becomes a waiting game." But it was anything but a game. They weren't defending the freedom of a country or the rights of some colony. They were protecting the Earth and the lives of every living thing beneath the sun. They were not fighting for an ideal here. They were fighting for the survival of their species. He didn't know how Phaeton planned to destroy an entire planet. In any case, Sheffield didn't doubt he was capable of it if he somehow possessed such tremendous power. Phaeton was a madman. He was insane by anyone's count, but he was not a liar. Not up to this point anyway.
"Sir," Baldwin said. "We're receiving an incoming transmission."
"What's the source?"
"The Agamemnon, sir."
It was the Fleet Admiral. "Go ahead and put it on the main display, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir."
The display flickered on. McDermott's eyes showed proud and hard looking right at Sheffield. He stood up straighter, even though he knew his superior couldn't actually see him. As always, the Admiral wasted no time. "Ship Commander's, I'm sending you firing solutions and countdowns for your first two shots. After such time, command will be relegated to the various Battle Groups." McDermott paused just a moment and said, "You are about to participate in not just the battle for Earth but the battle for mankind, and make no mistake about it," he said. "That is precisely what this is. Good luck. And may god be with us all."
The display ended. Sheffield nodded and viewed the coordinates of the firing solutions he'd been sent. They had to fire two shots. A good deal of things could happen in that amount of time. He wondered what the range of the enemy ship's lasers were.
As he scanned the solutions, he saw no strategy behind them. Next he loaded the solutions of the rest of the fleet. Pinpoint lines of fire crisscrossed chaotically across his screen and Sheffield followed them, looking for some order. Then he saw what the Admiral was planning. The two shots were essentially two volleys. He had the fleet training their sights on the largest of the capital ships first, namely the destroyers and carriers. Sheffield noticed for the first time that there were actually very few of them. Most of the ships were merely Frigates. The Admiral had it so that multiple ships were targeting the same enemy vessels. They might survive one direct hit, but how about two or three? The attack wouldn't take out a large portion, but they'd hit the largest ships. And they'd make sure they were down for good.
After that the fleet would break up and Epsilon was his. He only needed his ships to survive until then. Sheffield checked the countdown timer. Less than three minutes before the first salvo. The view screen showed the enemy fleet, creeping closer to Earth every second.
Sheffield pulled up a tactical map and examined the enemy's formation. They were lined up in slightly staggered columns three ships deep. The formation made it so that every ship had a clean line of fire at the USNI Fleet. It reminded Sheffield of an ancient phalanx. Behind them was a small reserve of ships. They would fill in any gaps that were formed during the fight and to protect the flanks. Sheffield counted. There were only six ships. Phaeton had dedicated a very small contingent of ships to cover their rear and sides. It was an ambitious formation. The enemy had all their firepower aimed forward but their sides were wide open. Phaeton obviously did not think the USNI capable of outflanking him. Was he right? If only there was some way to get behind them, he could monopolize on it. Then Admiral Sheffield saw it.
He did the calculations in his mind. How long would a full orbit take? He crossed out his equations and changed the numbers. They'd have to make a tight fly-by or it would take too long to make a difference.
"Lieutenant Walker, once we fire our second shot, we will make best speed to these coordinates." He forwarded the numbers over to her computer.
"But these take us away from the battle, sir," she said.
"Do it," he said. He would have explained his plan but there just wasn't time. "Baldwin relay these coordinates over to the rest of the Battlegroup. We'll make a tight and regroup here at rally point Zulu." Sheffield sent the waypoints to his Communications Officer.
"Aye, sir." Baldwin replied. "Relaying orders now."
"Rivera," Sheffield continued, "After our second shot, direct all power to the engines."
"Thirty seconds, sir," Hill declared. Sheffield could hear the anticipation in his voice. The bridge grew quiet as they waited. All eyes alternated between the main view screen and the countdown timer that slowly ticked away. "Three seconds, sir," Hill said. The timer hit zero. "Firing!" The entire ship lurched backwards at the tremendous velocity of the metal slug rifling through the ship's innards. It left the front of the ship like lightning. Cannons flashed all through the fleet and the two orbital bases. The massive super dense projectiles crossed the one million kilometer stretch in just less than eight seconds. At such a great distance, it was inevitable that some of the shots would miss. The majority didn't though.
Sheffield leaned forward against the brass rail of the command station watching the viewscreen. A round tore through a Carrier but the vessel continued forward. That was until two more slugs hit it. Sheffield wondered if it was the location of the shots that hit it or the sheer force of the attack that tore the spaceship apart. The Carrier's engines flared, accelerating it forward and hard to port before explosions rippled along the superstructure. The entire ship mushroomed outward before collapsing back into itself in an array of molten armor and twisted metal.
A dozen other ships joined its fate. The destroyed ships lagged behind as the others continued along undeterred.
"Main cannon capacitors recharging, sir." Rivera said. "At sixty five percent and rising two percent per second."
"Twenty seconds before shot two, Admiral," Hill informed him.
"Walker," Sheffield said. "Have you detected any thermal increases in the enemy fleet?"
"Negative, sir," she replied. "Their weapons are cold."
"Good," he said. The more shots they could fire unanswered, the better their chances were.
"Firing!" Another salvo headed toward the enemy fleet. The distance was closing and the slugs hit sooner than before. There were no misses. Frigates blossomed into fireballs. A Destroyer was gutted as a trio of rounds cut through its body like a scalpel. Each ship destroyed was one less that could attack the fleet.
"Lieutenant Walker, get us moving!"
"Yes, sir," she said as her fingers tapped away furiously at her controls.
"Engines operating at one hundred percent power," Rivera said.
"What's our ETA to rally point Zulu?" Sheffield asked.
"Rally point Zulu in eight minutes and twenty seconds, sir," Walker replied.
"Boost engines to One hundred twenty percent," he ordered.
"Aye, sir. Reactor is operating at one hundred twenty percent recommended output. Meltdown in seven minutes," Lieutenant Rivera reported.
"And our new ETA?" he asked.
"Five and a half minutes."
"Excellent," he said. The Thermopylae was at the vanguard of the Battlegroup. The other ships struggled to keep up. The surviving ships from Mars' orbital defenses had now been absorbed into his forces. Including his own ship, Sheffield was in control of eighteen Capital ships, more than a third of the fleet.
"Sir," Baldwin called and swiveled toward Sheffield in his chair. "We're being hailed by the Fleet Admiral."
"Patch him through, Lieutenant."
McDermott's face came up on one of the overhead screens. He was not happy. "Sheffield, where the hell are you taking Epsilon?"
"The hammer and anvil sir," Sheffield replied. He watched the Fleet Admiral's face slowly turn from furious disdain to understanding. "Just hold off the enemy until I can get into position."
"You had better know what you're doing Admiral. This is no time for pent up bravado."
"Aye, sir," the Admiral said as they entered Luna's orbit. It pulled them in and they began to gain speed. Sheffield watched as the rest of the fleet disappeared from view, blocked by the Moon's luminous white surface. The transmission with McDermott came to an abrupt end as they lost radio contact.
It was the longest three minutes of Sheffield's life. He began to question his decision. They would slingshot at high speed to a position directly behind the Fist of Jupiter forces. Sheffield was making a lot of assumptions though. If the enemy fleet had decided to slow their advance then Sheffield and his Battlegroup would come out too soon. He would fly into a meat grinder. If the enemy had seen his maneuver, then they could have repositioned their forces to cover their exposed flanks. If any number of things happened then he had just condemned Epsilon to a suicide mission.
Three minutes was a long time. What if there was no USNI fleet left when he finally circled around behind them?
But if he was right, they would catch Phaeton's fleet with their back to him. After two minutes he said, "Lieutenant Rivera, cut the engines." He had pushed their reactors hard enough. The rest of the Battlegroup also needed a chance to catch up. "Begin charging the cannon again. I want it at one hundred percent within sixty seconds."
"Aye, sir," Rivera said. "Cannon is charging."
"Baldwin, relay the same message to the rest of the Battle Group."

Sheffield watched the port viewscreen as the destroyer Stalingrad pulled up close to his ship. The Frigate Gorgon was close behind. They were ready.
"Leaving Luna's orbit in twenty seconds," Lieutenant Walker said.
"Rail Gun will be ready in ten seconds."
Sheffield nodded. It was the moment of truth. The Thermopylae's tremendous velocity sent the ship hurtling free from the Moon's orbit without any additional thrust. Their engines were cold, they had no radiation signatures. Battle Group Epsilon was invisible.
The enemy fleet appeared. Their course had not changed and they were precisely where Sheffield had hoped they would be. Next came the livid blue Earth. It was swirled with cotton candy clouds. Last of all were the USNI forces still positioned in their Lagrange point.
As the rest of Epsilon joined him at rally point Zulu, he watched the two forces engage. Thermal imagers showed lances of energy strike United Solar Naval Initiative ships. One Frigate, the Prometheus, was hit right through its main reactor. The entire superstructure was enveloped in fire and the ship momentarily became a second sun as it's reactor detonated. Two Fist of Jupiter Carriers had survived and launched their single fighters. Friendly fighters gathered in response and a pair of Destroyers moved to take out the Fist of Jupiter Carriers. The theory of them being the nerve center of their deadly fighters would be put to the test.
Both fleets spread out and moved into attacking positions. Their lines crossed and a melee began. Rail guns fired like lightning and missiles swarmed like angry bees toward the enemy as they countered with their own munitions. HARPOON missiles impacted against FoJ armor blasting through multiple decks at a time. Singleships engaged in ferocious dogfights. When they exploded, only a brief flash marked their final sacrifice. The battlefield was an image of chaos unparalleled by anything Sheffield had ever witnessed.
The rear guard was still lagging behind. It looked like they didn't intend to enter the fray of the battle and would instead spectate from afar. A possible command group? Sheffield wondered. Either way, he was going to bring the battle to them.
His ships hurtled silently closer to the enemy, still undetected. Sheffield sat back into his seat and typed away series of firing solutions. He sent the short range encrypted transmission to the rest of his Battlegroup, maintaining their stealth. For once in this dammed war, they would have the element of surprise.
"Lieutenant Hill, when I give the command, send that Fist of Jupiter Carrier back to Hades."
"Aye aye, sir," his Bridge Officer said.
The Carrier in reserve just barely showed up on far red spectroscopic imaging. Suddenly however its engines flared to life. It had spotted Sheffield and was maneuvering to counter him. It made little difference though.
"Now!" Sheffield shouted as he slammed his fists against his command desk. The Thermopylae's cannon thundered to life. The slug blasted through the vacuum and reached the swollen ship in a fraction of a second. It ripped through the ship in half the time. Sheffield thought that it had been a clean hit, in and out without any damage. But then the engines flared even brighter. The round had fractured the propulsion semi-sphere. Explosions obliterated the ship from the inside out, from stern to prow like a chain of firecrackers. The same fate followed the five escort frigates that guarded it.
The bridge erupted with cheers of approval. Even Sheffield allowed himself a satisfying smile. Maybe they really did have a chance.
"Bring the engines back up to seventy percent and recharge the cannon. Bring us back to the main fight, Lieutenant," he called to Walker. "Baldwin, relay that to the rest of the group. Get everyone back in formation."
The battle had become a melee. USNI forces had abandoned the Lagrange point, overwhelmed by the Fist of Jupiter. Some fled into orbits of either planet, hoping to outmaneuver their pursuers. Sheffield watched helplessly as a frigate, the Phoenix, was cornered against the gravity of Earth. It launched a volley of missiles as three Fist of Jupiter ships closed in around it. Their lasers fired simultaneously, dissecting the helpless ship. The remains were sucked into the Earth and made a fiery slash across the sky.
All the while the Alamo and Germania's cannons flickered with each shot fired. An enemy battle group was looming toward the Germania. Only a handful of USNI ships remained defending it.
The nearest enemy ship spun to face them. The Stalingrad and a pair of frigates made short work of it though.
"How long until the cannon is charged?" Sheffield asked.
"Seven seconds, sir." Hill said.
"Fire at will on that frigate group closing in on the Germania. We can't let them take out that position." Those cannons were the only reason the USNI had not lost the battle yet. "Unlock missile safeties A through O and give me a firing solution that targets the engines of three other frigates."
"Aye, sir."
"Sir," Walker cried. "Enemy single fighters inbound. They'll engage us in thirty seconds."
"Deploy all Marauder squadrons immediately to intercept," he said.
"Firing!" Hill called. Sheffield watched as an enemy frigate was turned into molten slag. "Firing solutions are ready and on line, Admiral."
Sheffield gave the command. His destroyer's launch tubes opened up and fired over three hundred and fifty high explosive missiles. The enemy frigates point defense lasers targeted their plumes and destroyed most of them. The precious few that made it though through managed to take out another two ships. The rest of the ships were put down by the other ships in his group. The Germania was safe for now.
"Incoming transmission from the Agamemnon, sir," Baldwin said. "Patching it through now."
McDermott gazed through the screen at Sheffield. His picture was tinged with static that threatened to kill the COM. "Good job Sheffield. Just Hold the Germania at all costs. My boys will cover the Alamo. Keep-" The transmission turned completely to static and the Fleet Admiral's voice vanished.
"What happened?" Sheffield asked. He prayed.
"Interference from the Earth, sir," Baldwin said. "I'm still reading the Agamemnon but it's behind the Earth and out of contact."
Sheffield sighed. The respite was short lived.
"Sir, enemy carrier moving on our position," Walker warned.
A destroyer led a carrier and three frigates toward the Germania. They were no longer soft targets. They were pointed right at the Thermopylae. A lance of energy shot from the destroyer's main cannon and connected with one of his destroyer's the Manassas. The laser struck one of the ship's missile tubes and the Harpoons detonated inside the ship. Explosions rippled along its flank, throwing it violently onto a new course. The Thermopylae's sister ship was dead in space. Enemy single fighters took advantage of its vulnerability and harassed the fallen ship, finally finishing it off.
The fleet moved to counter this new threat. The destroyer's cannon flashed again, this time targeting a frigate. Its armor may as well have been made out of paper-mache. The Titanium Nanotide Composite armor boiled away in an instant and the frigate's crew likely suffered the same fate.
"Divert all energy to the main cannon," Sheffield commanded.
"Aye sir, ready in twenty seconds."
A rail gun fired and sent a round through one side and out the other. Except for a slight change in trajectory, which it quickly compensated for, the monstrous war machine seemed to not notice. It began to slow down slightly. The frigates and carrier it escorted passed by, heading directly for the Germania. A hundred Harpoons struck the destroyer as its cannon flashed again, for the last time. The Super Carrier Descartes took a direct hit from the weapon. Atmosphere vented out both holes the attack had made but it was still in the fight. The destroyer was finished though. It was still largely intact but its main cannon had been blown clean off. It was no longer a threat.
The rest of the group accelerated toward the Germania undeterred.
"Main cannon ready, Admiral," Hill said.
"Take out that Carrier, Lieutenant."
The slug slammed through the carrier but missed its vital systems. The ship corrected the alteration to its trajectory the impact had made.
They passed right through the makeshift lines that Battle Group Epsilon had made, taking heavy fire. One of the frigates attracted the attention of some five hundred missiles. When the explosion receded there was no piece of metal larger than a forklift to attest to its existence.
The enemy ships did not return fire. The seemed content to devote all power to their engines. What were they trying to do? If they wanted to take out the Germania, they were well within range. Why would they not take the opportunity to knock out the only real threat USNI posed?
The crews of Luna's HPO base held no reservations. Its cannons turned and vaporized another of the carrier's escorts. The carrier took a hard hit too. The ships were on a suicide mission but to what end? The carrier and its last frigate escort passed harmlessly by the space base and entered the orbit of Luna. Sheffield figured it out though, even before Ensign Walker told him.
"Sir," his Navigation Officer said. "I've just gotten word of some bad news."