Armada Read online

  Armada

  By Strength and Guile - Book 2

  Paul Teague

  Jon Evans

  Copyright © 2019 by Paul Teague & James Evans & Jon Evans

  Cover art by Christian Kallias Infinite Scifi - infinitescifi.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Thank you for Reading

  Subscribe and get a Free Book

  About The Authors Paul Teague

  About The Authors Jon Evans

  Prologue

  “We’re almost in firing range, Admiral,” said Commander Vernon. The bridge of Vengeance was quiet as the two ships played cat and mouse.

  “What are they doing this far out in space?” murmured Stansfield, frowning as he watched the Astute19 Class battleship Centurion on his screen. “There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. They must have known that we would catch them eventually.”

  “Ready to launch torpedoes, Admiral,” said Midshipman Henry at the weapons console.

  “Hold steady, Mr Henry,” said Stansfield. “Mr Khan, let’s see if we can hail them.”

  “Opening a channel now, sir.” Midshipman Khan gave Stansfield a nod.

  “Vengeance to Centurion, this is Admiral Thomas Stansfield. You are to heave to immediately and prepare to be boarded, or we will be forced to open fire.”

  “Nothing, sir,” said Khan.

  “Vengeance to Centurion, heave to, prepare to be boarded.”

  “They’ve opened their aft torpedo ports, sir, and their scanners are active. No other response.”

  “Prepare to fire, Mr Henry, and switch our defensive systems to fully automatic,” said Stansfield, his tone calm and dark, “but let’s give them a little longer to respond.”

  “They’ve no intention of talking, sir,” said Vernon, interrupting the silence. His face glistened with sweat.

  “Agreed, but let’s just give them one more opportunity to climb down. We’re both in Astute19 Class battleships. They must know that we out-skill them, that they haven’t got a chance.”

  “Damned terrorists! I can’t believe they managed to pull it off in the first place,” said Lieutenant Yau.

  “What makes you so sure they’re terrorists?” said Stansfield quietly. “One more try, please, Mr Khan.”

  Then a warning siren sounded.

  “Incoming, sir, two Nightshade torpedoes locked on, impact in one minute and counting.”

  “Defensive fire, Mr Henry. Forward railgun batteries, clear the path.”

  Vengeance rattled as the forward batteries opened fire on the incoming torpedoes.

  “Fifteen seconds,” said Henry, throwing a timer onto the main display. The bridge was silent as they watched the torpedoes approach, picked out in green so that they were visible against the stars. Then they both flared like short-lived stars as the railgun rounds tore through them.

  “Torpedoes destroyed, sir,” said Henry unnecessarily.

  “Thank you, Mr Henry,” said Stansfield drily. “Re-open the channel. We’ll give this one more try, then we go in.” Stansfield opened a new channel. “Are your teams ready, Lieutenant Commander Grant?”

  Grant’s voice came over the speaker. “Ay, sir. Raptor teams primed and ready to fly.”

  Stansfield nodded and switched channels.

  “Vengeance to Centurion, last chance. Heave to and prepare to be boarded. Your unprovoked attack will not go unpunished. We will open fire if–”

  “Incoming, sir. Four more torpedoes heading our way.” Henry’s tone was urgent now.

  Stansfield swore under his breath, but the time for politeness had passed.

  “Defensive fire,” he ordered. “Raptors, launch as soon as the ship steadies, torpedoes to target the helm and engine, I want her disabled, not destroyed.”

  The four torpedoes exploded harmlessly, ripped apart by railgun rounds while they were still kilometres clear of Vengeance.

  “Raptors launching, sir,” said Grant.

  “Fire torpedoes, Mr Henry. Two-four-two configuration: let’s play them at their own game and take her down.” Stansfield was ready for the fight now, and he didn’t plan to lose.

  Down in the bays, Raptor assault teams launched into space, the Eagle Nebula providing a spectacular backdrop to the battle.

  In groups of eight, the Raptors moved swiftly into assault clusters, weapons ready to wear down Centurion’s defensive capabilities.

  “Why Centurion, Ed?” Stansfield asked Vernon, as they monitored the assault on the command consoles. “That has to be significant, doesn’t it? And the timing?”

  “You may be reading too much into it,” said Vernon as the first volley of torpedoes left Vengeance’s turrets. “Centurion was in Kingdom 10 for repairs, it was closest and easiest to attack in this part of space.”

  Kingdom 10 was a naval staging post, an orbital base designed to construct and support deep space operations.

  “But do you think it’s her? Has she come back for his ship?”

  “Incoming,” said Henry. “Sustained fire this time, they’re not letting up.”

  “Continue railgun fire,” said Stansfield, frowning as he tried to work out what Centurion was doing. “Raptors to intercept.”

  A cluster of eight Raptors separated from the main assault group to target the incoming weapons. Stansfield and Vernon watched the battle unfold over tens of kilometres of space as the two ships battered at each other.

  “Brace for impact,” warned Henry suddenly, fear edging his voice. The explosions came immediately, and Vengeance shook. The lighting flickered, and damage and casualty reports began to flow into the bridge from elsewhere on the ship.

  “We have damage to crew quarters,” said Vernon, “and casualties in engineering.”

  “They came out of nowhere,” said Stansfield, frowning at the screen as he tried to work out what had happened. “What happened, Grant? Where did those torpedoes come from?” Stansfield had been caught off-guard, and he was rattled by how little warning they’d had before the impact.

  “Grant’s dead,” came a voice Stansfield didn’t know. “Heavy damage in the bays, at least nine dead down here.”

  “Goddammit,” Vernon cursed under his breath.

  “Ten degrees down and a sixty-second burn on the main engines,” ordered Stansfield. “Let’s give these people a run for their money. Fire again. I want her disabled, Mr Henry, not destroyed.”

  “Ay, sir,”

  “Sustained torpedo fire targeting the engines. Raptors, I want as much superficial damage as possible, but do not – repeat – do not take out the core.”

  The Raptors moved in, and Stansfield knew that Centurion didn’t have the crew to return the favour. The
ir adversary had only the big guns and torpedoes and that was bad enough, even though it gave Vengeance the advantage.

  The Raptors were closing fast, firing mid-calibre railgun rounds and short-range needle missiles. Centurion’s hull flared as the missiles blasted her armour, sending fragments of debris floating off to join the stars.

  Torpedoes struck both Centurion and Vengeance as the two vast battleships traded blows. Vengeance shook under the pounding.

  “We have them on the run,” said Vernon, sensing an early and easy victory.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” muttered Stansfield, a worried frown on his face. “There’s not many organisations could pull off something of this scale.”

  “Something’s happening ahead, Admiral.” Lieutenant Yau, the science officer, was examining his screen, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

  “Details, Lieutenant,” said Vernon.

  “It’s the anomaly again, Commander. Scanning now to confirm.”

  “Let’s get as much information about this thing as we can,” said Stansfield, leaning forward in his command chair. “I want full scans, everything we have. I need to know the size, source, purpose and origins.”

  Stansfield surveyed the bridge to ensure his team were moving fast on his request. The ship shook again as another torpedo struck the hull, and several of the bridge crew were thrown to the floor.

  “This is the best chance we’re going to get to take a good look at this thing. Sol’s detected it only five times before; we need this data.”

  “The anomaly is increasing in size, sir, and Centurion is heading straight for it,” said Yau.

  “They’re going to go through it?” said Vernon incredulously. “We need to see what that thing is.”

  “Agreed. Helm, put us on a course to hit the anomaly, and fire main engines. Match their speed, we’re going in after them,” Stansfield ordered.

  “The anomaly is still increasing in size, Admiral,” said Lieutenant Yau.

  “If I didn’t know better, Lieutenant, I’d say it was a wormhole, wouldn’t you?”

  “Too soon to say, sir. I’m scouring the databases, but we have nothing on record of this size and nature. Whoever – or whatever – created it, it’s not one of ours.”

  The screen at the front of the bridge was now zoomed in on the colourful array ahead of them. It looked like a fissure in space, a swirling mass of colour, and weirdly disorienting against the glittering darkness of the stars.

  It was a spectacular sight, and it had appeared out of nowhere, deep in space, light years from anything of significance to Sol. Only the Kingdom 10 outpost was located close by, everyone having long decided that this part of space held no particular interest.

  “Sixty seconds until Centurion passes through the anomaly,” reported Yau.

  “But the question is, what does it do? Is it a force field? A wormhole of some sort? An unmasked singularity? A giant TV screen?”

  “It could have a defensive purpose,” said Vernon. “Maybe we should pull back the Raptors?”

  Vernon waited for Stansfield’s response. The anomaly looked beautiful from afar, but they had no way to know if it was benign.

  “Agreed. Commander, pull them back to ten kilometres. We’re not going to stop Centurion now, so we’ll let them pass through and follow if it looks like it’s safe to proceed.”

  Vernon passed orders to the Raptors as Stansfield studied the images they were returning to Vengeance.

  “Centurion entering now, sir,” came Yau’s update. “It seems benign.”

  The bridge crew watched in awe as Centurion passed through the coloured vortex. Now Vengeance’s torpedoes were exploding before reaching their target, and Centurion was left unharmed.

  “We’re following them,” said Stansfield, making a snap decision. “Helm, increase speed. Vernon, get the Raptors to follow; we’ll resume the assault once we’re through.”

  “I’d recommend caution, Admiral,” said Vernon quietly as he updated the Raptors’ orders. “We don’t know what’s on the other side. There could be anything waiting for us in there.”

  “Your concern is noted, Ed,” said Stansfield. “But you know why we have to go through. If she’s on the other side of that thing, we have to finish this. It has to end here.”

  Vernon and Stansfield looked at each other for a few seconds before the commander nodded. Stansfield was right. There was no other way.

  “The anomaly is closing, sir,” said Yau. “It’s going to be too small for us by the time we reach it.”

  “Fire the engines, maximum power,” said Stansfield. “I do not want to lose them.”

  “Admiral,” Vernon protested. “We’re not going to make it, we need to pull back!”

  Vengeance’s engines roared and the battleship shot forwards, charging toward the anomaly even as it shrank before their eyes.

  But as they reached the spot where Centurion had vanished into the portal, all that remained was the empty blackness of space.

  1

  The bridge of Vengeance was completely silent. Slowly, the crew returned to their posts, watching the metal forms of the Mechs like hawks to be certain that they were now disabled.

  “Let’s have your reports, please!” said Stansfield, his voice booming across the bridge. “Are you fit to continue, Lieutenant Yau?” The Lieutenant had picked up a light wound during the fighting, and one side of his head was now covered in spray-on artificial skin.

  “Yes, Admiral, it’s only superficial, I’ll carry on until relief can be found. The medbay have more important things to deal with.”

  They had survived the Mechs’ assault. It wasn’t the first time they’d fought an unknown enemy in this part of space, but Stansfield couldn’t recall any action so desperate.

  “Are you sure those Mechs are safe?” Vernon asked, walking up to one, his weapon still at the ready, prodding its limp form with his foot.

  “We have fatalities across the ship, Admiral,” said Midshipman Khan, reading off his screen. “Between forty and seventy, with at least as many wounded or unaccounted for.”

  “No major structural damage,” said Yau as he peered at the integrity monitors, “but there are several hull breaches created by the Mechs to gain entry, elevators are out all over, lots of internal damage from the fighting. No fires. It’s going to be some repair job.”

  “Davies, how certain are you that the Mechs are dead?” Stansfield asked.

  “Not sure, sir. Do you want an honest answer or an optimistic answer?”

  Stansfield wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. “Just give me a damned answer!” he snapped. “How likely are these things to suddenly jump up and start shooting at us again?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” admitted Davies. “I worked out how to disrupt power and take out a core area of these panels, but this tech is completely unfamiliar to me. I mean, it has buttons, lights, switches and interfaces–only, this is nothing like I’ve ever seen in Sol.”

  “Keep working. If there’s any sign of these creatures being re-activated, scream.” He closed the channel and turned to Commander Vernon. “Clear the bridge of all Mechs. Dump the corpses into space. Then prioritise Level One, the bays and the med areas.”

  “Ay, sir,” said Vernon, already moving.

  “Where’s Woodhall?” said Stansfield, looking around the bridge. Nobody seemed to know. “Find him and get him down to the workshop to assist Fernandez.” Stansfield exchanged a glance with Vernon. “Corporal Conway, report.”

  “Are you seeing this, Admiral? It’s so far off I can’t even begin to make it out with our onboard kit. Can Vengeance do any better?”

  “Negative. We’re blind at the moment, we’ve sustained serious systems damage. Mr Khan, do we still have comms with Sol?”

  “Yes and no, sir.” Stansfield glared at the midshipman. “The comms line is still open, sir, but the signal from Sol is seriously degraded, even though they seem to receive our data.”

  “Explanation?
”

  “I don’t have one, sir,” said Khan.

  “Davies. Your thoughts?”

  “It should be stable, Admiral. Did the Mechs infiltrate our systems?”

  “Negative,” said Vernon. “Command and network integrity were maintained.”

  “Then I don’t know, sir,” said Davies. “I’d need to get back out there and take a look.”

  It was ten minutes since Davies had disabled the Mechs from the Firewall Sphere, yet already their limp metal bodies were being dragged away. Wounded bridge personnel were relieved and key positions filled. Stansfield surveyed the scene as he considered their next move.

  “Charlie Team, what’s your assessment of our current situation? Speak freely.”

  Ten responded first. He wasn’t yet used to Stansfield’s subtle combination of collaborative and commanding, but he rather liked it. Feeding into strategy had stimulated parts of his cloned brain that were long overdue a workout.

  “I recommend we disable the Firewall Sphere, Admiral. It has firepower, serious firepower. We should get over there and strip them of supplies and secrets.”

  “I agree,” said Hunter, who’d been stuffed full of food and drugs and seemed to be recovering. “We’ve gotta make sure we don’t get some kind of resurrection from these things. If they suddenly wake up, we’re right back where we started.”

  “There’s hundreds of Mechs in that Sphere,” pointed out Gray. “Dormant now, but way too many to shoot through the head. We would need another way of making sure they’re disabled.”

  “I agree with Ten,” said Davies. “We need to get some shuttles over there and start stripping the tech. There are some big guns on these things, can we dispatch tactical to see if we can use them? I want to know what that pulse was.”