was therefore given an ultradense, extended nosecone that would pierce the organic hull of an Alpha before a final rocket stage would blast the warhead as deep as it could into the monster, where the pressure wave and thermal radiation would be devastating.
“Still no response from the target?” Jackson asked.
“No, sir,” Davis said. “No thermal buildup on the leading edges or on the nose.”
They waited tensely for another thirty minutes for the Alpha to make a move so they could counter it. That it just sat there motionless in space, waiting for the two missiles, was unnerving. Jackson couldn’t even be sure the damn thing could see the projectiles. The first Alpha he’d tangled with had no problems finding the Blue Jacket , no matter where he was, but it had never seemed able to detect their expendable munitions unless they were fired at extreme close range.
“Movement!” Davis called. “Alpha-Two is now accelerating toward us… wait… It’s changing course and climbing above our missiles.”
“Birds are correcting course,” Barrett said. “No joy. Target has closed the range too quickly, they won’t be able to pitch up steeply enough and maintain velocity for penetration.”
“Send the abort signal.” Jackson gripped his armrests as the Alpha came at him on the main display. “Put them in orbit over Xi’an, and we’ll recover or repurpose them later. Start tracking for an auto-mag shot, and prep two more Shrikes and a full spread of Hornets.”
“Yes, sir.” Barrett’s hands flew competently over his controls. “Auto-mag firing solution in ten seconds, targeting the nose—”
“Incoming flash message from the Atlas !” Lieutenant Keller, the Ares ’s coms officer called out. “Alpha-One opened fire on them before they could come fully around Xi’an and acquire a target lock. Unknown weapon. Atlas has degraded hull armor on the prow.”
“What about the Icarus ?” Jackson said.
“Unclear,” Keller said. “I believe they’re saying she’s withdrawing.”
“What?” Jackson nearly shouted. “Lieutenant Keller, you get a hold of that ship, and you find out what’s going on. Now!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Captain! The hull of Alpha-Two is opening on the leading edges,” Davis called out.
“Explain.” Jackson turned away from the coms station and refocused on the main display.
“Six openings, four port, two starboard, irising open along the centerline.” Davis put the enhanced image up for him to see. “Helm! Pitch down thirty-five degrees, full emergency acceleration!” Jackson called out as he realized what he was looking at.
“Sir, what—”
“Incoming fire from Alpha-Two!” Davis shouted, cutting off Celesta. “Thirteen projectiles accelerating toward us at over eight hundred Gs. They seem to be unguided.”
“Helm, pitch us down another five degrees,” Jackson said as the bridge began to shake from the Ares ’ s powerful main engines running past their accepted limits. “Are the enemy missiles tracking?”
“Correction, missiles are now angling down toward us, but it looks like they’ll still overfly us,” Davis said.
“We’re going to pass almost directly under Alpha-Two,” Celesta reminded them. “OPS, watch for any weapons deployment on their ventral surface.”
“Nothing yet, ma’am,” Davis said.
“Coms! Tell the Artemis and Hyperion to attack from the flank,” Jackson ordered. “Wait until we’re out of range before they lob any nukes in. We don’t want to get caught up in the blast if they manage a direct hit. OPS, how long until we pass underneath?”
“We’ll be directly under the target in thirty-six minutes at a range of five thousand two hundred kilometers,” Davis said.
“Tactical, update your auto-mag solution,” Jackson said. “I want to stitch all twenty shells along the target’s ventral surface. Helm, prepare to go to zero-thrust and surrender attitude control to the tactical computer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Still no response from the target?” Jackson asked.
“No, sir,” Davis said. “No thermal buildup on the leading edges or on the nose.”
They waited tensely for another thirty minutes for the Alpha to make a move so they could counter it. That it just sat there motionless in space, waiting for the two missiles, was unnerving. Jackson couldn’t even be sure the damn thing could see the projectiles. The first Alpha he’d tangled with had no problems finding the Blue Jacket , no matter where he was, but it had never seemed able to detect their expendable munitions unless they were fired at extreme close range.
“Movement!” Davis called. “Alpha-Two is now accelerating toward us… wait… It’s changing course and climbing above our missiles.”
“Birds are correcting course,” Barrett said. “No joy. Target has closed the range too quickly, they won’t be able to pitch up steeply enough and maintain velocity for penetration.”
“Send the abort signal.” Jackson gripped his armrests as the Alpha came at him on the main display. “Put them in orbit over Xi’an, and we’ll recover or repurpose them later. Start tracking for an auto-mag shot, and prep two more Shrikes and a full spread of Hornets.”
“Yes, sir.” Barrett’s hands flew competently over his controls. “Auto-mag firing solution in ten seconds, targeting the nose—”
“Incoming flash message from the Atlas !” Lieutenant Keller, the Ares ’s coms officer called out. “Alpha-One opened fire on them before they could come fully around Xi’an and acquire a target lock. Unknown weapon. Atlas has degraded hull armor on the prow.”
“What about the Icarus ?” Jackson said.
“Unclear,” Keller said. “I believe they’re saying she’s withdrawing.”
“What?” Jackson nearly shouted. “Lieutenant Keller, you get a hold of that ship, and you find out what’s going on. Now!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Captain! The hull of Alpha-Two is opening on the leading edges,” Davis called out.
“Explain.” Jackson turned away from the coms station and refocused on the main display.
“Six openings, four port, two starboard, irising open along the centerline.” Davis put the enhanced image up for him to see. “Helm! Pitch down thirty-five degrees, full emergency acceleration!” Jackson called out as he realized what he was looking at.
“Sir, what—”
“Incoming fire from Alpha-Two!” Davis shouted, cutting off Celesta. “Thirteen projectiles accelerating toward us at over eight hundred Gs. They seem to be unguided.”
“Helm, pitch us down another five degrees,” Jackson said as the bridge began to shake from the Ares ’ s powerful main engines running past their accepted limits. “Are the enemy missiles tracking?”
“Correction, missiles are now angling down toward us, but it looks like they’ll still overfly us,” Davis said.
“We’re going to pass almost directly under Alpha-Two,” Celesta reminded them. “OPS, watch for any weapons deployment on their ventral surface.”
“Nothing yet, ma’am,” Davis said.
“Coms! Tell the Artemis and Hyperion to attack from the flank,” Jackson ordered. “Wait until we’re out of range before they lob any nukes in. We don’t want to get caught up in the blast if they manage a direct hit. OPS, how long until we pass underneath?”
“We’ll be directly under the target in thirty-six minutes at a range of five thousand two hundred kilometers,” Davis said.
“Tactical, update your auto-mag solution,” Jackson said. “I want to stitch all twenty shells along the target’s ventral surface. Helm, prepare to go to zero-thrust and surrender attitude control to the tactical computer.”
“Yes, sir.”
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