The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

The strain on the warships grew as they swung closer to the gas giant and the battleship while simultaneously trying to reduce their velocity so that it would be slow enough to safely release the shuttles for their assault on the battleship. Normally, this kind of maneuver, a close swing by a planet or star, was made to use their gravity to accelerate ships. Iceni’s flotilla was instead fighting that, and she could hear the hull of the heavy cruiser creak alarmingly as it protested the forces wrenching at it. The moan of the inertial nullifiers rose to a higher-pitched shriek as they maxed out. Iceni’s display flashed red, frenzied warnings blinking for attention.

Reengage maneuvering safeties immediately.

Exceeding maximum stress conditions.

Hull failure possible.

Inertial nullifiers overstressing.

System failures imminent.

“Kom . . . mo . . . dor,” Iceni struggled to say over the strain of the g-forces.

“Forces . . . are . . . passing . . . maximum . . . now,” Marphissa got out, and as she finished Iceni could feel the pressure on her body ease and hear the pitch of the nullifiers begin to descend.

The battleship was growing in size at alarming speed while the warships kept slowing as fast as their main propulsion units and hull structures could manage. “Go, Colonel,” Iceni said, but Rogero already had his soldiers in motion, the hulking figures in their armor stumbling down the access tube into the shuttle and latching into the seats there. Without the power assist from their armor, the soldiers couldn’t have moved under such conditions.

“Forty seconds to shuttle launch,” the operations specialist announced.

Iceni watched the last soldiers hurling themselves onto the shuttle as the seconds scrolled down. “We’re still going too fast,” she said to Marphissa.

“We’ll be within acceptable parameters when we launch the shuttles,” Marphissa replied, her eyes locked on her display.

Iceni could see the velocity markers edging down steadily, dropping to meet the safety margins for shuttle launch, and wondered if they would make that. The battleship appeared to be right on top of them, so huge compared to even the heavy cruisers that it seemed to be more a moon shaped like a massive pregnant shark rather than something made by the hands of humanity.

“Ten seconds to launch.”

“We’re not there, Kommodor!” Iceni said.

“We will be.” Marphissa didn’t take her eyes off of her display, one hand hovering over the command for the shuttle launch.

Off to one side, light cruiser CL-773 tore past the merchant ship, pumping out hell-lance fire and slamming two grapeshot bundles into the ship’s command deck, the impacts knocking the merchant ship off course. Rolling slightly, the merchant ship wobbled onto a descent toward the gas giant.

“Five seconds.”

The velocity markers and launch margins were coming together as Marphissa’s hand swept down a small distance. “Launch!”

Iceni watched the symbol of the shuttle detach from her heavy cruiser, the other two shuttles breaking free of their own cruisers within a couple of seconds and following the first in a dive toward the battleship which now seemed to fill space before them.

“We’re coming under fire,” the combat specialist exclaimed. “Hell lances from the battleship.”

“How many?” Marphissa demanded.

“One . . . three . . . four hell-lance projectors. They’re not firing in a volley. They must be under local control.”

“The snakes,” Marphissa said. “Sub-Exec Kontos’s people still command the fire-control center, so the snakes can only employ as many hell lances as they can manually aim and fire.”

“Four hell-lance projectors is still too many when we only have three shuttles!” Iceni retorted.

“C-555 is taking hits,” the operations specialist said. “They’re targeting the heavy cruisers.”

Iceni laughed in sudden relief. “Idiots. They probably haven’t even noticed the shuttles yet.” Her heavy cruiser, like the other warships, was pivoting again, turning to continue around the curve of the gas giant, gratefully accepting the gravity assist from the huge planet as the flotilla began accelerating once more.

The battleship was there, then behind them, still heart-stoppingly close. But the shuttles were almost in contact with the hull now. “Make sure you drop relays,” Iceni ordered. “I want to be able to monitor the special forces once we’re out of line of sight. Have you managed to contact Sub-Exec Kontos?”

“No, Madam President. We’ll drop two relays as we come around the planet.”

“Shuttles have made contact,” the operations specialist said. “Reporting solid locks on the hull at targeted locations.”

“They’re inside the firing zones of the hell lances,” the weapons specialist added. “The shuttles are safe from defensive fire.”