The Tau Ceti Agenda

'Gunnery Officer Rice! Target that spot and start pouring the DEGs there!'

'Aye sir!'

'Why'd they stop firing again? Anyone?'

'They shot twice, then paused, and then shot twice again,' the STO added. 'Hmmm . . .'

'Got any other useful analysis there, STO?' the XO said gruffly. 'They shot twice, then waited, how long? And then they shot twice again.'

'Let's see, there was thirty-one seconds almost precisely between shots within each of the two volleys so far,' the STO said, answering the XO's challenge.

'Maybe they only have a double barrel, sir,' the COB said. 'I mean it follows with the STO's assessment.'

'If that's the case, let's hope it takes a lot longer goddamned time to reload this go around,' the CO replied. 'Start a clock, STO. When do we expect the next hit?'

'On it, sir.' Commander Freeman tapped away at his console again and conferred with his AIC. 'There have been three minutes and fifty-seven seconds between volleys. Precisely, each time, so that implies a recharging, not a reloading process. That is about forty-two seconds frommmmm, now. Mark ticker! Clock is now transmitting to all the senior staff DTMs.' His AIC synchronized the clock to the data to within a millisecond.

'Like I didn't have enough in there already.' The XO grinned at the STO. A countdown started in the upper right-hand quadrant of his DTM in bright red numbers. The clock overlaid the several layers of DTM data continuously streaming through EndRun's mind. He acknowledged the countdown and went back to his previous display.

'Our casualty rates are getting worse by the second, CO,' the air boss said.

'Ground boss still concurs, sir,' Army Lieutenant Colonel James Brantley added.

'CO, we've got system failures across the boards.' Colonel Chekov scanned through his DTM on the mission status to discern how this new threat was going to impact the second run of troop deployments. 'And as the air boss and ground boss have mentioned, the clock says it's time for run two, sir. We better make it while the cats are still functioning.'

'Hold a minute, XO. We need to take out that gun first. Gunnery Officer Rice, status?'

'We're pumping energy into the spot, sir, but the data is not that accurate. We might be hitting them, or we might just be hitting an empty crater hundreds of meters away from it,' the lieutenant replied. 'They're a long way off, sir.'

'Keep firing on a standard dither pattern until you hit pay dirt. You see smoke; keep hitting that spot.' He thought briefly about missiles, but at that distance, they would be sitting ducks for AA. The missiles only traveled about a tenth of light speed and would likely get shot down long before they got there. DEGs were the only choice for that range, even if they were too precise to take out such an ambiguously located target.

'Aye.'

'Okay, XO. Let's set up for the second run. Nav, give me as random a damned path as you can. Let's all pray that goddamned mass drivers can't track on a rapidly moving target.'

'All sorties and drop tubes, prepare for a second deployment run through the engagement zone,' the air boss ordered over the air wing net.

'AEMs, AAI, and drop tank squads, prepare for ground deployment,' the ground boss ordered.

The Sienna Madira had passed over the teleporter facility planetoids at a high rate of relative speed, deploying hovertanks, AEMs, and fighter support, while splattering the facility with directed energy blasts and cannon fire. In order for the ship not to be a sitting duck and to pull the AA fire and SAMs with it, the ship continued past the engagement zone and then out of range. Then, according to the battle plan, the supercarrier would make a second pass to deploy an overwhelming number of forces. The first deployment was a smaller portion of the overall blue force number. Using a small force at first was a standard tactic used when intelligence on an enemy force was sketchy at best. The first attack was used to draw out the enemy forces and get a better assessment of what they had. Then the supercarrier would make its second pass, dumping out the full contingent of its fighting force. The tactic had been used for centuries. The CO, being a student of twentieth- century ancient warfare, had taken this play from an ancient battle in the South Pacific over an island known as Iwo Jima.

The waiting was over, and it was time for the second pass. So far, the plans had been going mostly according to the simulations, except for the fact that there were about thirty percent more enemy fighters—and there was the other thing about the enemy's secret weapon. The sims had not accounted for their being a gigantic mass driver on the little moon.

Jesus Christ! A mass driver. How in hell did intel miss that? The clock in his head counted down to ten seconds.

Good question, sir, Uncle Timmy replied, just as perplexed as the CO was.

Sound the warning, Timmy.

Aye, sir.

'All hands, all hands! Brace for impact! Multiple hull breaches. Emergency crews standby! Expect two hits thirty-one seconds apart. Repeat, two hits in five, four, three, two, one.'

The ship rang and screeched again and shook hard enough that the CO had internal bruising from his seat belt. The inertial dampening fields throughout the ship were taxed to the limit, and in several cases on the middle decks, the fields gave out, leaving hundreds of sailors suspended in microgravity for a few seconds. Jefferson's DTM buzzed massive damage and hull breaches. The Madira listed sideways, and the gravity generators wavered slightly, sending a wave of microgravity across the ship. A wave of nausea likely followed right behind the microgravity for most.

'Shit, they've most certainly reloaded. Right on schedule, STO.'

'Captain, we've got SIF generator failures on multiple decks. Coolant system is overwhelmed and ruptured on multiple decks. Hull breaches reported,' the XO exclaimed. 'It must be a double barrel, sir! Good work, STO.'