Follow orders as you're told,

Make their yellow blood run cold

Fight until you die or drop,

A force like ours is hard to stop

Close your mind to stress and pain,

Fight till you're no longer sane

Let not one damn cur pass by,

How Many of Them Can We Make Die!

Heather Alexander - “March Of Cambreadth”

Commodore Kerime Fuentes struggled to avoid checking the chronometer for the umpteenth time since they’d arrived on station. The forty-two ships of Task Force Odysseus had waited for almost a week now, hidden away in the depths of the Uzaunx system, and she was wondering if perhaps Antuma and Fujimoto hadn’t guessed wrong after all.

Humanity’s practical experience in space combat was rather limited, and a century out of date. There’d been a series of skirmishes over Titan, and a rather brutal slugging match in Mars orbit over a hundred and fifty years ago, but neither of those had been Naval battles in the true sense of the word. No capital ships, no planned tactics or strategies, just two small forces throwing what weapons they had at each other, and hoping for the best. No matter what happened, this one would be one for the books...assuming it happened at all.

At the moment, all the Triumvirate Navy had for ships were the converted freighters. They had no internal weapons, no armor, no shields of any sort, and it wouldn’t take much to pound them into scrap. There was no way they could sneak in close enough to the enemy vessels to strike a serious blow, which meant the enemy would have to come to them. If the freighters could stay powered down long enough for the enemy stumble over them, they stood a decent chance of doing some serious damage.

The joker in the deck was trying to predict where the enemy would strike next, and setting up their ambush before they arrived. The enemy had moved in a straight line since the first attack, but there were three different worlds that fell on that axis, any of which could be the next target. They’d run the variables through the computers a dozen times, trying to narrow it down, but in the end, circumstances had forced them to go with their gut. If they’d guessed wrong and Uzaunx wasn’t the target, they’d have to withdraw and try again.

Hélène Fujimoto had outdone herself planning this, Kerime had to admit. She’d gone up against her more than once in the Guild, only to get schooled every single time. It was a gigantic throw of the dice, but if things broke their way they might just have a shot.

Who knows, they might even survive.

The trick lay in hiding the ships until they could launch their attack, and Admiral Fujimoto had come up with a doozy. Once they’d found a nice asteroid field to hide in they’d emptied their water tanks, coating each freighter with a thick layer of ice. It wouldn’t fool an active scan pointed in their direction for very long, but on passive scans, they should look like a scattering of rocky snowballs. In theory, at least. Hélène always was a sneaky bitch, Commodore Fuentes thought to herself in grudging admiration. In fact…

“...Contact!” her helmsman shouted, pulling her out of her reveries. “Reading multiple ships, bearing 187 by 013 degrees!”

Kerime pulled up her own display and muffled a silent curse. They were coming in close to the bearing they’d predicted, but there were over a hundred point targets out there, all on a least-time course for Uzaunx. Those were some long damn odds, but then she’d always known they’d be outnumbered.

“Alert the other ships by com laser, and tell them to stand by,” she ordered. The timing for this operation had to be perfect to have even a prayer of pulling it off. The enemy ships outgunned her task force of converted freighters by a wide margin, but there was one factor they had in their favor.

They had lots of cargo room.

“Tell the loadmasters to get ready,” she told her crew as the ships drew closer. “We’ll open the cargo doors in...three minutes, from my mark.” After they’d turned their ships into icebergs her crew had gone EVA with cutting torches to ensure the doors would open, but there was always the chance that the ice had reformed. They could blow the doors if they had to, but that would just send the enemy a signal they couldn't miss.

“Cargo bay doors opening,” the crew informed her minutes later, “Payload is being deployed.”

“Inform the engine room I want those reactors hot the instant we fire,” she told them, never taking her eyes off the screen. The engines were powered down to avoid detection, but once they fired the enemy would know they were there. They’d need those reactors powered up and ready to make their escape. She watched for any sign they had noticed their efforts, but so far the enemy was still boring in, fat, dumb and happy. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the enemy’s formation, tugging on her ear. Their pattern was odd, almost as if they were each maneuvering separately. Was it possible they’d never drilled in fleet tactics? If they hadn’t faced another enemy in space that would make sense, but their armaments seemed to belie that. She filed that fact away, secure in knowing that everything they observed was being recorded for the drones. If the worst happened, at least some record of their battle would survive.

Her comm officer touched his ear and looked over at her. “All ships report deployment complete, Commodore,” he said quietly, as she nodded in reply. She was operating on pure instinct now, gauging the perfect moment by eye and experience alone. Come on...just a little closer… her mind whispered, as the final piece fell into place.

“Fire!” she commanded...as the missiles they’d been dumping into space suddenly went active, their homing radars searching for targets as they roared away from the Task Force.

“Missiles inbound!” the Tactical officer said in shock, as alarms began to blare. “We’re reading twenty thousand incoming projectiles, estimated time of impact...30 seconds!”

Dhyaksh Jiyazh Ghuuyaz’ head snapped around as defensive systems came online. “Evasive maneuvers!” he shouted, as the fleet began to scatter. “Target the missiles…and find me those ships!”

“Reactors hot! Engines to full!” Fuentes bellowed, as the Task Force began pulling away from the enemy fleet. They’d shot their bolt, and now it was time to make their escape. The lumbering freighters were slow to respond, but for the moment at least the enemy was otherwise engaged. With any luck that would buy them enough time to get underway, but in the interim, she still had a few cards left to play.

“Dump the chaff!” she shouted, as pallets of metal shards were kicked out the open cargo doors, a small explosive charge scattering the debris once the ships were clear. As long as the clouds of chaff were between them and the enemy, any attempt to target the freighters would be degraded.

Oathkeeper’s Tactical officer howled in frustration as his displays suddenly turned into blooms of static hash. “They’re interfering with my scans!” he cried out, even as the fleet began firing on the missiles. Counter missiles and automatic rapid-fire cannon blazed away at the incoming warheads, and they started being knocked out of the sky by the hundreds….but thousands of their brethren threaded their way through the defensive fire, their homing radar pinging as they went screaming in for the kill.

So far everything was going to plan, which only made Commodore Fuentes even more nervous. The Demon Murphy had yet to put in an appearance, which could only mean when he showed up it would be spectacular...and not in a good way. The freighters were picking up speed, and as of yet none of the enemy was in pursuit. Just in case they were coming, however…

“Release the mines!” she ordered, as they ejected even more pallets, scattering thousands of explosive mines in their wake. With any luck the enemy would come blundering through the chaff cloud, only to slam into minefield now behind them. If that happened…

…Kaboom.

The incoming missiles were in their final boost phase now, and while the defensive fire was winnowing them down there were still thousands left. Oathkeeper’s bridge crew held its breath as they waited until the last second, and then…

“Fire capacitors!” Jiyazh snarled, as the fleet suddenly exploded with a massive burst of electromagnetic energy. The pulse wave radiated outward, crashing into the incoming missiles...and turning the overwhelming majority of them into harmless hunks of metal, easily shrugged off. Some of the missiles survived the blast and detonated against the Khonhim ships, as they belched air and plasma. A handful of ships were badly damaged, and Vengeance and Reprisal exploded in balls of fire...but the rest of the fleet was still very much in the fight.

“EMP!” the helmsman howled, as Kerime’s eyes widened in horror. That blast of energy had destroyed most of the missiles, and her heart sank as she realized that Murphy had shown up after all.

“Missiles had minimal effect,” her XO said quietly for the record, as she realized just how bad things were about to get.

“Ready the Hail Mary,” she ordered.

“After them!” Jiyazh ordered, as the fleet changed course, following the fleeing ships. All they had was the general direction, as the clouds of chaff still interfered with their sensors. He leaned forward, peering at the display, as sudden suspicion gnawed at him.

“Alter course,” he told the helmsman. “They have disrupted our sensors for a reason...and I suspect whatever awaits us on the other side we will not find to our liking. Avoid the jamming field, and converge on the other side.”

“At once, Dhyaksh!” his helmsman responded, as he steered Oathkeeper around the chaff cloud.

Commodore Fuentes clenched her jaw as the enemy ships began altering course. “They didn’t buy it,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. She had one trick left in her bag, and if that didn’t work...they were doomed.

Jiyazh’s eyes glittered with recognition as Oathkeeper cleared the chaff cloud. “Clever...but not clever enough,” he smirked, as the waiting minefield suddenly appeared on their screens...along with the escaping freighters.

“Target those ships, and fire!”

Fuentes howled “Fire the Hail Mary!” as the enemy ripped her Task Force apart. The remaining freighters spat out dozens of missiles into the face of the pursuing fleet, the flight time mere seconds as the enemy closed the gap...when a string of fusion bombs detonated right in their lap.

Radiation alarms wailed as their screens blanked automatically. There was no time to evade, so the Khonhim ships simply charged through the blasts, their hulls taking the brunt of the deadly fire...and kept on coming.

Kerime had only a few seconds to realize just how badly they’d underestimated the enemy, slapping the red button on her console to send the message drones away from her ship...moments before it disappeared in a ball of fire.

“So much for these humans,” Jiyazh smiled in triumph, as the last ships died.