a secondary plot, and Oversteegen saw her twitch upright in her chair as the data registered.
'No, Sir,' she said, turning her head to look directly at him. 'None of this fire's coming from Vespasien orbit!'
'That's what I thought,' he said grimly. 'Com, get me Dagger One.'
'Sir,' Lieutenant Pattison said, 'you have an immediate priority signal from Admiral Henke.'
'Put it through, Jayne-and get me Dagger One!'
'Aye, aye, Sir.'
Michelle Henke's face appeared on Oversteegen's display, her expression tense.
'Michael, I'm looking at the missile density, and-'
'And it's too low,' Oversteegen broke in. 'We've just confirmed the near-planet platforms haven't launched a single bird.' A window opened in the corner of his display, showing Crispus Dillinger's face. 'And now, I've got t' go,' Oversteegen told his admiral, and punched the button that brought Dillinger to the center of the display.
'Yes, Sir?' Dillinger said.
'There's somethin' peculiar about their attack pattern, Commander,' Oversteegen said quickly. 'They're only using a fraction of their total missile power-and everything they're actually firin' is coming from further away, with what have t' be poorer targetin' solutions.'
'Sir?' Dillinger looked puzzled, and Oversteegen shook his head impatiently.
'They're tryin' t' distract us-and quite possibly t' lure us into expendin' counter-missiles before their real attack.'
'But-'
'This isn't a debatin' society, Commander,' Oversteegen said. 'Abort your missile defense of this division- now!'
Crispus Dillinger looked at the face on his communications display with something very like incredulity. The man had to be insane! There were almost a thousand missiles tearing down on each of his ships, and he wanted Dillinger to stop defending them?!
But-
'All Daggers,' he said harshly, 'Dagger One. Abort Flyswatter. Repeat, abort Flyswatter. Missile Defense Alpha is now in effect.'
'Well, it was nice while it lasted,' Jennifer Bellefeuille said as the torrent of counter-missiles pouring from the Katanas slowed abruptly to a trickle. She looked at Ericsson. 'Estimates on their expenditure, Leonardo?'
'Assuming they have the same basic magazine space as the Manty missile LACs we were able to inspect after Thunderbolt, and that these things are basically the same size as their standard counter-missiles, that has to be at least fifty percent of their total loadout, Ma'am. Possibly as high as sixty, if they've committed additional volume and mass to more point defense clusters, as well.'
'And they did a real number on our missiles with them, too,' deCastro pointed out. 'Their kill percentages are damned close to twice what Cimeterres would have managed, even at much shorter ranges.'
'True.' Bellefeuille nodded. 'On the other hand, there are less than fifty of them, and if Leonardo's right, they don't have a lot of missiles left.'
She gazed at the plot a second or two longer, then nodded again, crisply.
'Initiate Phase Two, Leonardo.'
HMS Nike twisted sinuously as the depleted missile storm tore down upon her and her division mate.
The Katanas had thinned it considerably before Oversteegen ordered them to stand down. Of the nineteen hundred missiles which had launched, the LACs had killed seven hundred. The battlecruisers' counter-missiles killed two hundred and sixty, and another hundred and fifty or so simply lost lock and wandered off on their own. Three hundred and twelve more locked onto the Ghost Rider decoys Nike and Hector had deployed, and another sixty looped suddenly back towards the Katanas, only to be ripped apart by the LACs' point defense clusters.
But that left four hundred and seventy-eight, and as they streamed past the Katanas, the battlecruisers were on their own.
Oversteegen watched them come, absolutely motionless in his command chair, narrow eyes very still. Thirty point defense laser clusters studded each of Nike's flanks. They were individually more powerful than any past Manticoran battlecruiser had ever mounted, with fourteen emitters per cluster, each capable of cycling at one shot every sixteen seconds. That came to one shot every 1.2 seconds per cluster, but that was only twenty-five per broadside per second, and these were MDMs. They had traveled over twenty-five million kilometers to reach their targets, their closing speed was almost 173,000 KPS-fifty-eight percent of the speed of light-and they had a standoff attack range of 30,000 kilometers.
They crossed the inner perimeter of the counter-missile interception zone, losing another hundred and seventeen in the process. Of the three hundred and sixty-one survivors, fifty-eight were electronic warfare platforms, which meant'only' three hundred and three missiles-barely fifteen percent of the original launch-actually attacked.
The space about Nike and Hector was hideous with incandescent eruptions of fury, and bomb-pumped lasers ripped and gouged at their targets. But these battlecruisers had been designed and built to face exactly this sort of attack. Their sidewalls-especially Nike's-were far tougher and more powerful than any previous battlecruisers had mounted, and both of them were equipped with the RMN's bow and stern walls. The fact that they'd been able to keep their wedges turned towards the incoming fire even while they engaged it with their own counter-missiles presented additional targeting problems for the Havenite missiles' onboard systems. Instead of the broadside aspect ships were normally forced to show attack missiles' sensors, all these missiles saw was the wedge itself. But no sensor could penetrate a military-grade impeller wedge, which made it impossible for them to absolutely localize their targets. They could predict the volume in which their target must lay, but not precisely where within that volume to find it.
And that was why Nike and Hector survived. The missiles' sensors could have seen through the battlecruisers' sidewalls, but the sidewalls were turned away from them. Most of them streaked 'above' and 'below' the Manticoran battlecruisers, fighting for a 'look-down' shot, while others crossed the Manticorans' bows or sterns, trying for 'up-the-kilt' or 'down-the-throat' shots. Tough as Nike's passive defenses were, they were no match for the raw power of the Havenite lasers, but the very speed which made MDMs such difficult targets for short-range point defense fire worked against them now. They simply didn't have time to find their targets and fire in the fleeting fragment of a second they took to cross the Manticoran ships' tracks.
'No damage, Sir!' Lieutenant Commander Gohr announced jubilantly. 'None!'
'Well done, Guns,' Oversteegen replied.
'Captain Hanover reports one hit forward on Hector, Sir,' Lieutenant Pattison reported. 'No casualties, but she's lost one graser and a laser cluster.'
'Good,' Oversteegen said. 'In that case, let's-'
'Missile launch!' Gohr said suddenly. 'Multiple launches! Sir, I have LAC separation from in-system platforms!'
Oversteegen's eyes flew to the main plot, and his jaw tightened as threat sources exploded across it. A fresh wave of MDMs had abruptly appeared, launched from the same spot as the first salvo. But this one was considerably more massive. The next best thing to six thousand missile icons spangled the display, streaking towards his ships-and also Dillinger's LACs and Michelle Henke's division-and Gohr was right about the LAC launches, as well. The two hundred Task Force 81 had already known about went suddenly to full acceleration, charging towards the Manticorans, but twice that many more were erupting into space, turning towards Dillinger's Katanas and the battlecruisers behind them.
Oversteegen glared at the innocent icons of the near-planet missile pods Gohr's sensor crews had managed to locate. They hadn't launched yet, but they would, he knew. They were waiting, until their missiles could join the missile storm coming in from further out. Their lower base velocities when they arrived would make them easier targets, but it would also give them better shots at his sidewalls, and there were probably at least another two or three thousand missiles aboard them. The tactician in him cried out to hit them with proximity-fused warheads, to kill them before they fired. But they were too close to Vespasien. There was too big a chance a faulty firing solution would hit the planet itself or kill one of the unarmed civilian platforms and everyone aboard it.
No. They were simply going to have to take it, and his expression was bleak as he watched the attack come in. It was unlikely that even this would destroy his ship. The one mistake whoever had planned it had made was in his targeting selection. He ought to have directed all of that fire at no more than one or two targets, not spread it
