30
In seizing a state one ought to consider all the injuries he will be obliged to inflict and then proceed to inflict them all at once so as to avoid frequent repetition of such acts.
LCS Yggdrasil
In Transit
9 December 3134
Eduard Goran considered that jumping into a Lagrange point—the same one twice inside of twelve hours—was likely the most ordinary task he was going to perform as part of Jasek’s Operation Lodestone.
His first time was easiest, aboard Jasek’s command JumpShip as it dropped the Himmelstor. The JumpShip’s lithium-fusion batteries allowed for an immediate second jump once its position was well hidden behind Luna. A shuttle transfer and a new set of calculations, and here he was again jumping into Skye.
Hopefully—if that was the word for it—into the path of the Emerald Talon.
Not that the Stormhammers didn’t have some powerful force on their side now as well. If everything held to plan, Goran would have a ringside seat to the first WarShip naval battle of the new century.
Kommodore Goran, given the honorary promotion to prevent any conflict with Kaptain Lionel Brionns, occupied second seat at Navigation on the WarShip Yggdrasil’s spacious bridge. A bit rusty, the WarShip and crew, but still serviceable despite any rumors. Goran’s job was to facilitate the safe arrival of the Mjolnir–class WarShip into the near space around Skye. With so few WarShips surviving the Jihad, and even fewer kept in fighting shape as the Inner Sphere powers repaired their damaged economies, it was history in the making to help bring the grand fighting dame to war. And having come up through the service as a navigator, running time and again through the system, he knew every back-alley route and Lagrange point Skye had to offer.
But none of those points had ever been guarded by a fast-approaching Clan Nightlord.
Most space travelers reported sensing some kind of passage of time while in jump, even though the clocks all stopped between seconds and no voluntary movement was possible. The time slip ratcheted up from a simple eyeblink to the mind-bending effects of Transit Disorientation Syndrome, which landed people in sick bay for days after. Goran had never suffered from such a debilitating state.
There was only a slight twist in the back of his mind, which let Goran know reality had shifted in that heartbeat between suns, and the stars displayed on the main viewing screens jumped to new positions.
“Battle stations!” Kaptain Brionns shouted, though his men had been rung into position before the jump had ever begun. “Break loose the assault Drops.”
A metallic clanking, the sound of DropShip docking collars being unlocked, carried through the Yggdrasil’s hull and announced to the bridge officers even before news came by communications that four assault-class DropShips had severed their connection to the battle cruiser. A pair each of Overlord-A3 s and Union-X s. The Union s took up station trailing the Yggdrasil. With their heavier armor and weapon systems that could worry even a WarShip, the Overlord s moved up forward and flanking.
“Nightlord–class WarShip approaching hard,” Sensors reported. “Twelve degrees off our starboard ventral beam.”
“She’s launched her ready-fighters.” This from the tactical officer, a distant cousin of Duke Brewster, Goran recalled. “Forward Gauss cannons… firing… missed!”
Goran had tried to preserve the Yggdrasil’s orientation, bringing them in exactly where the JumpShip had been only eight minutes before with its nose pointing at Skye and the approaching Nightlord. Off by twelve degrees wasn’t so bad, considering. The battle plan had rested on hopes that the Clan WarShip would not be so quick to respond, though, as an unarmored JumpShip swapped out for the Commonwealth’s flagship.
“We won’t get that lucky next time,” Brionns said, tightening the harness that held him into the 360-degree rotational captain’s chair. “Helm, swing us around. All engines full ahead. Forward batteries commence fire—fire at will.”
On the forward-facing screens, a hardpoint swung into view as sunlight gleamed off the distant Nightlord. The Emerald Talon looked no more threatening than a small comet, except that this comet had teeth.
But then, so did the Yggdrasil.
From extreme ranges, the heavy naval-grade Gauss and particle projector cannon could deliver staggering damage. Lights on the bridge actually dimmed as the rail gun capacitors dumped their charges into the acceleration coils, creating a cascading magnetic field that grabbed half-ton ferrous masses and charged them at the Nightlord. Screens flickered with a static wash as the NPPCs joined the fusillade.
There was no avoiding the readied crew’s marksmanship. Streams of particle energy softened up the Emerald Talon’s nose, with the railed masses slamming in afterward, caving in several compartments just to one side of the main weapons bays.
“First blood!” Brionns crowed, taking superstitious glee in the light damage done to the Nightlord. His bridge staff cheered.
For Goran, unused to the idea of WarShip combat, he felt less like cheering and more like throwing his arms up to shield his face as the Emerald Talon answered back with a combination of lasers, PPCs, and Gauss cannon of its own.
The storm of destructive energies hammered into the Mjolnir, shaking the entire ship with a mastiff’s fangs. The forward screens went white with static and then black for a moment, flashing back to a new angle on the approaching Nightlord as Sensors routed new camera eyes to the bridge displays.
Goran swallowed dryly, hands clenched at his sides as he relegated himself to the role of observer for the hard-slugging match.
The vessels powered at each other, still probing with their farthest-reaching weapons. Fighters spilled out of bays on both sides, and the Overlord s started dropping naval-class missiles into space with impressive regularity.
The Mjolnir battle cruiser shook again under heavy weapons fire. And again.
WarShips, heavily armored as well as impressively armed, were designed to take a great deal of damage. The Mjolnir, the second-largest WarShip ever built by the Inner Sphere and largest to survive the Jihad sixty years earlier, carried fifty thousand tons over the Nightlord with thicker armor and an equal weapons load-out. On paper the match looked good, even slightly in favor of the Lyrans. But that didn’t take into account the ships’ captains. How the vessels were fought could make the difference between victory and sucking on vacuum.
And when the Yggdrasil lost Kaptain Brionns on the next exchange of salvos, it kicked Goran in the gut.
The Mjolnir’s battle bridge was buried under several decks, but once the vessels thrust into broadside range, all bets were off so far as maintaining positive protection. The Nightlord turned first, cutting out its massive drive flare and putting momentum in charge as attitude thrusters turned 1.2 million tons of destructive power on its long axis. Brionns matched them only a split second later, losing gravity on his ship along with the thrusters. As the vessels closed on intercept paths, both brought their huge spread of weaponry to bear.
“Missiles away!” one of the bridge officers shouted. Four AR10 launchers could spread a good dozen capital-class missiles between the WarShips before the first set even approached its target. Naval-class autocannon now joined in to the attack as they acquired target lock. Smaller, point defense weapons concentrated on holding off the aerospace fighter runs.