Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 03_ Tyrant's Test - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [89]
One minute and nine seconds earlier than expected, Marauder reported in.
“Contact, one—no, two—three—four. Four targets. Analyzing. Contacts are as follows—one, repeat, one, Imperial type two shipyard. Three, repeat, three, Yevethan T-types.”
“Three!” Brand said in surprise, loudly enough to be heard at most of the bridge stations. “Three,” he repeated to himself. “Well, that yanks the rancor’s whiskers.”
“Indomitable, this is Vanguard. We’re now taking fire from two of the Yevethan vessels. Shield effectiveness approximately ninety-two percent. May we engage, sir?”
Tobbra rushed to the plot table. “Commodore, we have to break off. Order the bombers in so that we can get out of here.”
“Twenty seconds to reacquisition,” said the tactical officer, tracing the electronic lines with a fingertip.
“Vanguard, this is Brand,” the commodore said, glaring at Tobbra. “Can you say status of the type two?”
“Indomitable, she’s full up. Looks like six ship-ways with complete or substantially complete vessels, three more at the keel-and-skeleton stage.”
Brand shuddered involuntarily. “Vanguard, you are free to engage, counterforce protocol. Repeat, free fire—concentrate on the T-types—”
Tobbra reached out and grabbed Brand above the elbow. “What are you doing?”
With a violent jerk of his arm, Brand broke the first officer’s grip. “What has to be done,” he said. “Confine yourself to your quarters, Captain Tobbra. Lieutenant Threld, take the captain’s station.” He turned toward the comm officer. “Let me talk to the attack squadrons.”
There was a faint crackle on the K-wing’s battle comm as the scrambler went active.
“Here it comes,” said Skids.
“Indomitable to all squadrons,” said Brand’s voice. “I have a revised target appraisal—confirming type two shipyard in orbit, with birds in the roost. Confirming three thrustships in orbit. The patrol has been fired upon. These are your revised targeting orders—your primary target is the shipyard. We’ll keep the T-types busy—you’re to ignore them unless they get in the way. Flight leaders, commence your attack.” After a microscopic pause, he added, “Good luck.”
“There they are,” Tuketu said as the cockpit was lit up by the distant flare of blaster bolts striking ray shields.
Moments later, the tactical display in the cockpit showed him the geometry of the battle. One thrustship was preceding the shipyard in its orbit, another trailing behind. The third—most likely the one the patrol had first spotted—was docked at the cargo port on the side of the great structure.
“ ‘Good luck’—Tuke, this is crazy,” Skids was saying. “How are we going to duck three Fat Men?”
“We’ll try the low road,” said Tuketu. “Red Flight, this is Red Leader. Follow me down to the planet. On the break—now!”
The Battle of ILC-905 lasted just eleven furious, confusing minutes.
In the first moments, Vanguard fell under a fearful fusillade from both the lead and trailing thrustships. Even after it began returning fire, it was clearly outmatched in such a pairing. The only thing that saved the gunship from a quick end was the fact that the individual T-type main batteries were medium-cruiser-class at best.
Nevertheless, each thrustship had eight main batteries, spaced in such a way that every approach was covered, and up to four batteries could concentrate their fire on a single target. It would not take long for the concentrated fire of two such vessels to batter down the gunship’s shields, and then to destroy it.
Then Indomitable joined the fight, and the alignment suddenly changed.
“Let’s see if we can divide their attention,” Brand said. “Vanguard, concentrate your fire on the trailer. We’ll take on the lead ship. All batteries, fire.”
Indomitable’s first salvo drew an immediate response from the Yevethan vessel, drawing the