Into the reckoning, p.1
Into the Reckoning, page 1
**********
Into the Reckoning
Book Ten of Rise of the Republic
By
James Rosone and Miranda Watson
**********
Illustration © Tom Edwards
Tom EdwardsDesign.com
**********
Published in conjunction with Front Line Publishing, Inc.
Manuscript Copyright Notice
©2024, James Rosone and Miranda Watson, in conjunction with Front Line Publishing, Inc. Except as provided by the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-961748-38-5
Sun City Center, Florida, United States of America
Library of Congress Control Number: 2024904096
Table of Contents
Chapter One: It’s a Trap, Captain
Chapter Two: Mountain Home, Idaho
Chapter Three: Tell Me That’s Not a Chickenhawk?
Chapter Four: Humtar Origin Story
Chapter Five: New Orders, New Mission
Chapter Six: Enemy Mind
Chapter Seven: Not a Palace
Chapter Eight: Task Force 28
Chapter Nine: New Orders
Chapter Ten: Back to Basics
Chapter Eleven: Don’t Feed the Animals
Chapter Twelve: Behind Enemy Lines
Chapter Thirteen: Tomb of the Warriors of Taldrek
Chapter Fourteen: Hot Drop
Chapter Fifteen: Package Delivered
Chapter Sixteen: Dropping Like Flies
Chapter Seventeen: Freedom Isn’t Free
Chapter Eighteen: You Want a Quarantine?
Chapter Nineteen: Really, Krzysztof—Superman?
Chapter Twenty: We Have Contact
Chapter Twenty-One: Fox Three
Chapter Twenty-Two: Pitfall
Chapter Twenty-Three: Reconnaissance in Force
Chapter Twenty-Four: Gangsters & Robo Taxis
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Gates of Hell
Chapter Twenty-Six: Those Tanks Won’t Move Themselves
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Rest & Refit
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Facing the Music
Chapter Twenty-Nine: By Your Command
Chapter Thirty: A Chancellor Is Chosen
Chapter Thirty-One: Warrior Diplomats
Chapter Thirty-Two: Weight of the World
Chapter Thirty-Three: Maximum Pressure
Chapter Thirty-Four: I Am Spartacus
Chapter Thirty-Five: Wait, Where Am I?
Chapter Thirty-Six: You Saved Lives
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Operation Gurista Freedom
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fracturing an Empire
Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Coup D’État
Chapter Forty: Operation Gurista Freedom
Abbreviation Key
Chapter One
It’s a Trap, Captain
September 2113
Task Force 22
Lyrius Star System
RNS Vanguard
Rear Admiral Amy Dobbs looked on in abject horror as the ambush against her reconnaissance force continued to unfold. The handful of frigates and cruisers escorting what their sensors had identified as a convoy of giant freighters heading toward Corusca had morphed into something more dangerous. Nearly a dozen Pharaonis cruisers and destroyers broke formation, advancing away from the freighters they had been using to shield themselves from Republic sensors. With the initial escort having decisively engaged her reconnaissance force, there was little she could do to intervene other than to push the ships of her task force to use all available thrust to shorten the time to contact with the enemy and hope they weren’t too late.
I knew something wasn’t right about this convoy the moment we detected it, she lamented.
Shortly after the alliance fleet had entered the system, they’d detected the main Pharaonis fleet forming near Corusca, one of two habitable moons in orbit of the gas giant Aiolia. It was the only inhabited moon or planet in the system, making its capture by either side a strategic win. Since its takeover, Corusca had become a logistical staging point, allowing the Pharaonis to launch raiding missions into Ry’lian and Tully space. It was only when the alliance moved further into the system toward the enemy fleet that they detected something else—a convoy of freighters moving towards Corusca. That was when Task Force 22—Dobbs’s task force—was ordered to engage and eliminate it.
I should have sent more ships, she thought, second-guessing herself as she studied each update of the battle unfolding just beyond the range of their weapons.
After directing her former XO, Captain Joseph Wright, to lead a reconnaissance force consisting of his ship, the battle cruiser Teddy Roosevelt, a heavy cruiser, a pair of frigates, and a single corvette, she was upset with herself for not sending more cruisers, especially with the appearance of those new destroyers the Pharaonis had recently begun fielding. Now, as her reconnaissance element was decisively engaged, unable to break free from their quarry, it was a race against time to see if her ships would come to the rescue or if she would be left to watch helplessly as they were destroyed, one by one.
Damn this jamming—why the hell are we only learning now of this new capability they seem to have acquired? she questioned, wondering who had dropped the intelligence ball on this one.
From the moment the Pharaonis had sprung their trap, one or more of their newer vessels had succeeded in jamming the targeting sensors of her ships. Normally, this was something the Republic was known for doing to its adversaries, not the other way around. Being on the receiving end was an entirely new experience and one she did not enjoy.
She cursed under her breath, frustrated beyond belief. She watched helplessly as Pharaonis warships continued to pummel the Teddy Roosevelt and the heavy cruiser Oceanus. Seeing the pair of Republic ships firing back at the enemy, impressively scoring hit after hit against the Pharaonis, felt good. But it still irked her that five of her ships were in grave danger of being destroyed, and there was little she could do until her ships could burn through the electronic jamming or get close enough for their targeting sensors to overpower the jamming. For now, all she could do was watch and wait and hope her ships could hold out a little longer.
“Admiral, I think we’re almost through the jamming. I’m starting to get targeting data on those large contacts we identified as freighters. It shouldn’t be long now until we can target the rest of them,” Lieutenant Michael Luther announced excitedly.
Dobbs turned to look at her electronics warfare officer, hope in her eyes. “Outstanding, Lieutenant! Keep doing whatever you can to figure out which one of those ships is blinding us,” she replied encouragingly. “Weps, the moment Lieutenant Luther identifies the source of the jamming, I want all our guns and ASMs targeting it—delete that ship from existence!” she ordered with cold precision.
“Aye, Admiral. We’re on it,” replied the lieutenant as he began coordinating with gun crews.
“Holy hell, that’s a lot of missiles!” Lieutenant Commander Thomas Hill exclaimed suddenly from his tactical action station near the TAMs or tactical action map table. The battle’s holographic display now showed dozens upon dozens of tiny red lines streaking toward her recon element.
“Get the TAMs readout displayed on the main monitor now!” barked Captain Brian Wiirre, the Vanguard’s skipper, before Dobbs could.
In seconds, the desperate battle being fought from afar was now playing against the backdrop of the floor-to-ceiling main bridge monitor. Seeing the expanse of the battle like this was almost too immersive for some, but for Dobbs and her new ship captain, it was perfect.
What they saw on the display felt like a punch to the diaphragm, and Dobbs reached a hand out to steady herself. The detailed, zoomed-in display of the battle showed the RNS frigate Havana taking some hits while doing its best to evade and throw off gunners aboard the Pharaonis ships targeting them. That was when they saw it. One of the Pharaonis’ new destroyers emerged from behind one of the giant cargo ships. It didn’t take long to see that the destroyer had found its prey and was angling in for the kill.
“Weps, tell me you can get a lock on that destroyer. It’s heading right for the Chennai,” Captain Wiirre said, his eyes still affixed to the already heavily damaged Republic frigate.
“Eh…it’s risky, sir. We’re almost as likely to frag the Teddy or Havana with a barrage of magrail slugs as we are that destroyer. The jamming is still scrambling our targeting computers,” replied Lieutenant Bullard before offering an idea. “Captain, there is another option we can try if you’d like?”
Without waiting for Wiirre to respond, Dobbs jumped in. “What is it, and will it work?”
“We can fire a couple of dozen ASMs in the direction of the enemy fleet and hand off the final targeting of the missiles to Commander Mitsu and his squadron,” Bullard suggested, referring to their Havoc-II antiship missiles. “They’ve got to be getting close to burning through the jamming on their end.”
Captain Wiirre turned to face Dobbs. “I think it’s worth a shot, Admiral. If Kenji’s bombers aren’t able to get a lock on the destroyer, then I’d wager they could find us other targets worth some rapid disassembly.”
Dobbs thought about that for a moment. Then, reaching for the comms headset next to her chair, she connected to Commander Mitsu aboard on
There was a pause as she waited for the time delay and Mitsu’s response. Then the radio crackled with static, another side effect of the jamming. “Athena Actual, Shogun Actual. Good copy on request. We are a go for ASM assistance. We’ll find a home for them. Out.”
Smiling, Dobbs looked at Wiirre. “He’s good. Let’s get some ASMs on the way and do what we can until we’re able to burn through this noise.”
As the Vanguard fired its missiles, the only thing she could do was watch and wait as her task force continued to close the gap between the enemy force that had ambushed her recon element and the battle continued to unfold. Come on, Mike, find a way to burn through this jamming so we can help, she urged privately.
“They’re firing another barrage,” Lieutenant Commander Thomas Hill exclaimed from his TAO station. “I’m showing forty-six missiles heading for the Chennai. They’re from that destroyer that was hiding behind the freighter.”
Dobbs heard him but didn’t know what else to say for the moment. Like some of the others on the bridge, she watched in alarm as the swarm of missiles raced towards the Chennai, towards her spacers. In seconds, the frigate’s point-defense guns, or PDGs, responded, firing near-constant strings of 30mm exploding projectiles toward the incoming threat. Observing the battle from afar was both spectacular and frightening as the spacers aboard the Chennai were in a desperate fight for survival.
“Hot damn! They’ve nailed eleven of them so far—make it seventeen now,” exclaimed Commander Hill as explosions continued to occur in what was becoming an obvious line directly toward the ship.
They’re out of time…, she realized as the first missile impacted Chennai. Before her brain had a chance to process what happened, nearly two dozen more slammed into the vessel along its entire length. Fractions of a second later, the frigate blew up—separating into two pieces, the forward momentum of the ship now pushing the two parts further away from each other.
Dobbs wanted to scream in frustration at the destruction of one of her ships and the loss of its crew. Barely containing the rage building within her, she turned to face Lieutenant Bullard. “Weps, tell me you’ve got some firing solutions by now.”
Looking up to meet her eyes, Bullard smiled. “I sure do.”
Dobbs smiled like a predator. “Get us a lock on those destroyers and fire everything we’ve got at them. It’s time to end this fight.”
*******
Eighteen Hours Earlier
Task Force 22
RNS Teddy Roosevelt
Tau Sagittarii System
Captain Joe Wright stood on the bridge of the battle cruiser Teddy Roosevelt, waiting like everyone else for the Altairian star carrier to officially open the bridge to the Lyrius system in Pharaonis-controlled space. During the mission brief for Operation Orion’s Hammer, Admiral Pandolly had explained that the system had once been part of the Ry’lian territory. It had been lost to the Pharaonis just prior to the end of the First Zodark War in a brutal multimonth campaign that had seen the system change hands several times. In the eight years since they had wrested control of it from the Ry’lians, the Pharaonis had turned the system into a staging base for further incursions into Ry’lian and Tully space near the Serpentis system. While the alliance continued to grow its fleets and train its ground forces for the eventual invasion of the Zodark Empire, the alliance force that had defeated the Orbots was now being directed to go after the Haven—a pair of systems the Pharaonis called home.
“Captain, we’re receiving a message from the Digimon CS1,” announced Lieutenant Levi Baker from the tactical action station. “It’s the five-minute warning, sir, before they open the bridge.”
Wright saw the faces of the bridge crew staring at him, waiting for him to issue the orders that would set them in motion as they readied the ship to cross into a hostile system. “Very well, Lieutenant. Why don’t you go ahead and open a ship-wide channel so I can address the crew?” he replied.
As Wright was collecting his thoughts before speaking to the crew, his Chief of the Boat, Master Chief Petty Officer Bill Walters, walked up and whispered, “Just give it to them straight, Skipper—they trust you.”
“Thanks, COB; you’re right. They should know what we’re up against,” Wright whispered back as he readied to speak.
Taking a breath in as he steadied his thoughts, he exclaimed, “This is the captain speaking. In the next couple of minutes, the Altairians will open a bridge connecting us to the Lyrius system—starting Operation Orion’s Hammer. I would expect to encounter enemy warships shortly after our arrival. It will be important for everyone to remain sharp and be ready to react to whatever the enemy throws at us. You know what to do, people. I’m proud of you guys. Now let’s kick some ass,” he said, ending with the official battle cry of the Republic: “To victory!”
Moments after his pep talk was finished, the Altairian ship opened the bridge that connected the two systems—allowing the alliance ships to cross the vast distance in mere seconds.
Captain Wright looked to Ensign House. “Helm, take us in, let’s do this.”
As the ships of the combined allied fleet crossed the bridge, the vast emptiness of space blinked away before returning, this time in an entirely different region of space as the fleet exited the bridge. The moment the first ships appeared in the Lyrius system, bridge crews across the fleet snapped into action as they prepared their warships for battle.
“TAO, get our active sensors going and get us a view of the situation around us,” Captain Wright called out the moment they were through. “Weapons, start charging the magrails and the turbo lasers. I want our guns ready for action the moment we spot the Pharaonis.”
“Aye, Captain,” came the affirmative calls as the bridge crew reacted to the flurry of orders.
While the crew waited for the active sensors to populate the TAMs and radar scopes, the forward-facing cameras filled in the immediate gap in their situational awareness, feeding images of what was happening around them to the bridge. They painted a scene with a mixture of silhouettes of formidable battleships, their engines lit hot as the metal beasts got underway to form a battle line with which the fleet would eventually advance into the system.
As the lumbering giants of space warfare methodically moved into position, the faster, more nimble corvettes zipped ahead of the formation and to the flanks of the battle line as they scouted for any immediate threats. After the corvettes took off, the frigates were the next ships to advance, establishing the screening force and picket line to intercept potential missiles or small attack craft intent on finding a gap in the line to exploit with their missiles and plasma torpedoes.
The Pharaonis were known for spamming battle lines with swarms of missiles and torpedoes as their capital ships maneuvered to get in close, where their hard-hitting lasers could deliver devastating blows. Thankfully, their laser batteries were slower to recharge than those of the Republic and its allies, negating their potency a bit. With the corvettes and frigates moving into their positions, the heavy cruisers and battle cruisers began forming their protective barriers around the capital ships—the carriers and battleships that comprised the bulk of the fleet’s firepower.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Wright commented to his XO, Commander Weber, as the two of them stared at the display of raw firepower on the giant bridge monitor.
“It sure is. I wonder what the Pharaonis must think.”
“Probably crapping their pants if I had to guess. They’ve relied on the Orbots to protect them as they nip at the edges of Ry’lian and Tully space. Now they get to deal with the full attention and might of the alliance,” Wright countered, then added. “Let’s just be thankful, Jeff, that our fight in this war is out here—among the stars in these giant warships. I’d hate to have to battle this enemy on the surface.”
Weber grunted in agreement. “Amen to that, Skipper. Their faces—my God, they look like demonic figures, and those ant-like bodies of theirs give me the heebie-jeebies.”
