Chapter 32 begins with Sword Simonds, who has just spent the last twelve hours or so trying to override the command lockout. He muses that they have no option but to carry on with their attack, as seizing the ship constitutes an act of war on Haven, and facing both them AND Manticore isn't exactly a thrilling prospect. As the saying goes, in for a penny, in for a pound.
His tactical officer appears to be "obsessed" with "gravity anomalies," which he obviously thinks are nothing important. Looks like he'll be getting a nasty surprise shortly...
On that note, we cut to the
Fearless, where Honor asks one of her subordinates how likely it is the
Thunder/Saladin will pick up their gravity pulses.
We then cut back to Simonds, whose tactical officer has just detected two impeller signatures.
Simonds clenched his jaw and scrubbed at his bloodshot eyes. How? How had the bitch done this?! That course couldn't be a coincidence. Harrington had known exactly where he was, exactly what he was doing, and there was no way she could have!
I'm sure it had nothing to do with those MYSTERIOUS ANOMALIES you were picking up earlier, no sir!
At any rate, he orders a course change, turning 80 degrees to starboard, and back on the
Fearless Venizelos remarks that they're breaking off. Honor corrects him, stating that the
Thunder was merely surprised, and is trying to keep a constant distance while they decide what to do next.
Meanwhile, Simonds is fuming over all this, wondering how his adversary is able to know every single manoeuvre his ship makes.
But that didn't change the fact that Thunder of God out-massed both his opponents more than twice over. If he had to fight his way through them, he could. Yet he also had to be able to carry through against Grayson. . . .
"Compute a new course," he said harshly. "I want to close to the very edge of the powered missile envelope and hold the range constant."
Back on the
Fearless, Honor declares that she's going to tempt her adversary into a missile duel, and then tells Venizelos to get some grub for the crew, because you can't go into battle on an empty stomach now, can you? A short while later, she discusses the seemingly-baffling tactics of her enemy.
"Could he be afraid of your technology?"
Honor snorted, and the right side of her mouth made a wry smile.
"I wish! No, if Theisman was good, the man they picked to skipper Saladin ought to be better than this." She saw the puzzlement in Brentworth's eyes and waved a hand. "Oh, our EW and penaids are better than theirs, and so is our point defense, but that's a battlecruiser. Her sidewalls are half again as tough as Fearless's, much less Troubadour's, and her energy weapons are bigger and more powerful. We could hurt him in close, but not as badly as he could hurt us, and even in a missile duel, the sheer toughness of his passive defenses should make him confident. It's—" She paused, seeking a comparison. "What it comes down to is that in a missile duel our sword's sharper, but his armor's a lot thicker, and once he gets in close, it's our sword against his battleaxe. He ought to be charging to get inside our missile envelope, not sitting out there where we've got the best chance of giving as good as we get."
Brentworth nodded, and she shrugged.
"I don't suppose I should complain, but I wish I knew what his problem is."
Once again I am reminded of playing
Jane's Fleet Command (a game I'm not sure even works on Windows 10, although if you're looking for a similar type of game there's always
Command: Modern Operations). One of my favourite ships in that game was the
Kirov-class battlecruiser, which was bristling with a truly ridiculous array of weaponry, and my favourite tactic was to go in full steam ahead and launch every single anti-ship missile I had at the enemy in the hopes that at least one would slip through their point defences. And considering its missiles each packed a 750kg warhead, you really only needed one to get through.
Eventually, Simonds get the first shot off, and shit officially gets real:
"Missile launch! Birds closing at four-one-seven KPS squared. Impact in one-seven-zero seconds—mark!"
"Fire Plan Able." Honor said calmly. "Helm, initiate Foxtrot-Two."
"Aye, aye, Ma'am. Fire Plan Able," Cardones replied, and Chief Killian's acknowledgment was right behind him.
Troubadour rolled, inverting herself relative to Fearless to bring her undamaged port broadside to bear, and both ships began a snake-like weave along their base course as their own missiles slashed away and the decoys and jammers deployed on Fearless's flanks woke to electronic life.
This is it - the final showdown. All bets are off, the heat is on, the fix is in, the dogs are out, the game is up, the chips are down, the stakes are high, the odds are low, the danger is huge, the payoff is slim, friendships will be made, rules will be broken, wrongs will be righted, and no unturned stone will be left... uh... get ready to be turned inside out and upside down.
At this point we get a lot of back-and-forth scene changes, with paragraph breaks after every three or four sentences, so it's a bit difficult to recap, but I'll give it a shot.
Honor notices that the
Thunder/Saladin is splitting its fire between the
Fearless and the
Troubador, which strikes her as an extremely foolish things to do. Now, I'm no military expert, but this makes sense: a damaged ship can still fight back, but a destroyed one cannot, so thus one should concentrate one's fire on a single ship at a time.
The
Thunder gets hit, but damage is minor with no casualties. Meanwhile, Simonds is fretting over the fact that this crew is just too experienced to operate the ship effectively:
Thunder of God's second salvo fared almost as badly as the first, and Simonds wrenched around to glare at his tactical section, then bit back his scathing rebuke. Ash and his assistants were crouched over their panels, but their systems were feeding them too much data to absorb, and their reactions were almost spastic, flurries of action as the computers pulled it together and suggested alternatives interspersed by bouts of white-faced impotence as they tried to anticipate those suggestions.
He needed Yu and Manning, and he didn't have them. Ash and his people simply didn't have the exper-
Thunder of God heaved as two more lasers ripped through his sidewall and gouged into his hull.
Back on the
Fearless, the bridge are pleased that the enemy is fighting dumb, but just then a missile detonates 15,000 km to starboard, and two lasers manage to slip through her sidewall, taking out some of her lasers and radar stations. Things are going worse on the
Thunder, however, as the ship gets hit for the sixth time. He orders the ship to turn 90 degrees to starboard.
"You were right about the way he was fighting. That was pitiful."
"Yes, Ma'am." Venizelos scratched his chin. "It was almost like a simulation. Like we were up against just his computers."
"I think we were," Honor said softly, and the exec blinked at her. She unlocked her own shock frame, and he followed her over to the tactical station. She keyed a command into Cardones' panel, and they watched the master tactical display replay the brief battle. The entire engagement had lasted less than ten minutes, and Honor shook her head when it ended.
"I don't think that's a Havenite crew over there at all."
"What?!" Venizelos blushed at the volume of his response and looked quickly around the bridge, then back at her. "You don't really think the Peeps turned a ship like that over to lunatics like the Masadans, do you, Skipper?"
So they've come out ahead in this engagement, but the Masadans have probably learned a few things from their mistakes, so the next time they won't be so foolish (at least they'd
better...you don't want to be lowering the stakes at the climax of your novel!)