“We’re back in superstress,” said Fredericks.
“Hold it there!” said Flint.
“I don’t know if I can, sir.”
The propulsion went back to a howl and Fredericks cursed at his station. The man was normally calm, whatever came his way. Seeing him so agitated put Flint on edge as well.
“If we don’t figure out how to control the superstress, we’re going to lose this engagement, Lieutenant.”
“You’re reminding me of something I already know, sir.”
“Enemy warships on the sensors!” shouted Garrett, diverting Flint from one critical issue to another.
The twelve-thousand-metre Kilvar vessel had exited lightspeed approximately fifty thousand kilometres from the Firestorm’s position. A few hundred kilometres further, the slab-sided carrier was also stationary at the end of its SRT and Flint spotted a half-open hatch on its visible flank. Whatever was inside, he knew he wasn’t going to like it, and he estimated the bulky vessel might have enough interior space to hold ten or twelve warships of similar size to an HPA battleship.
The moment the Kilvar appeared, the alliance ships launched missiles. Flint noted that several vessels were firing in staggered waves, which he knew was a good way to limit the effectiveness of the enemy knockout cannisters. Not that it mattered too much when the hellburners were failing so badly.
“The second vessel is also invulnerable, sir,” said Becerra. “It was hit numerous times on Basalt and it’s unmarked.”
“I don’t think anyone’s surprised by that news,” said Flint sourly.
“The destroyer cannon is ready, sir,” Maddox reminded him. “We could take a shot at one of those vessels.”
“We’re not in superstress,” said Flint. He checked the output gauge – it was higher than last time, but with no indication it was about to switch state.
Flint got a break. The propulsion deepened, once again taking on the eerie superstress note.
“Target the first warship and fire,” he said.
“The first warship is out of the cannon’s firing arc, sir,” said Maddox. “Our nose is pointing in the wrong direction.”
“Not for long.”
The Firestorm was travelling at three thousand kilometres per second, but velocity in a vacuum didn’t – in theory - make it any harder to pull off the nose-tail switch and Flint’s hands retained a memory of the same manoeuvre he’d executed at Tibulon.
What he hadn’t accounted for was the change brought about by the superstressed propulsion. Such was the monumental thrust from the engines that Flint spun the warship around by 270-degrees instead of 180. He tried to correct, but ended up flying sideways with the enemy vessel far outside the nose-mounted destroyer cannon’s narrow firing arc.
“Both enemy warships are heading in pursuit,” said Garrett.
Determined to salvage something from his failed effort, Flint rotated the Firestorm again, so that it was heading stern-first towards the moon, still travelling at the same velocity as before. The Kilvar crew had recovered quickly from their SRT and they launched weapons and discharged the energy beam.
One of the Daklan desolators – already damaged by the engagement at Basalt - was hit by the energy weapon and its mesh deflector didn’t activate. Expansion of superheated alloy ruptured much of its rear quarter, creating a burst of fiery debris which trailed in its path. The desolator’s commanding officer must have judged another strike would be fatal and he executed an SRT, taking his warship elsewhere.
“Second chance,” said Flint, his eyes on the Kilvar warship.
“Happy to accept it, sir,” said Maddox. “Destroyer cannon fired.”
The bass thump of expulsion wasn’t unexpected this time and Flint let it wash over him. Since the enemy ship was coming head-on, Maddox could only target its nose. The cannon shot hit the Kilvar vessel, turning fifteen billon tons of alloy and ternium into a rapidly expanding sphere of grey powder.
“Damn and crap!” said Garrett. “How did that one feel, you Kilvar bastards?”
The particles cleared rapidly and it was immediately obvious that the destroyer cannon had disintegrated a far greater volume than expected. The Kilvar vessel’s nose was completely gone and debris was falling in massive chunks from the adjacent areas of the hull.
“Hellburners!” yelled Flint.
“Forward tubes one to three: fired,” said Maddox at once.
The other alliance warships reacted with similar speed, launching their own missiles and firing Terrus cannons. The Kilvar warship didn’t even have time to bank before dozens of hellburners and gauss slugs crashed into the area exposed by the destroyer cannon. An explosion of gratifying size and destruction tore apart another few billion tons of armour and ternium.
Whatever piece of tech was providing energy for the Kilvar warship’s invulnerability, it suddenly failed. Before Flint’s eyes, every single alliance weapon became effective and every detonation produced a crater or ripped free some plating.
“It’s entering a spin,” said Garrett.
With no vacuum drag, a spin often indicated a warship’s control system had failed, causing its engines to fire randomly. Either that, or the engine modules themselves were no longer generating thrust evenly. Whatever the reason, it was invariably terminal for the affected vessel.
Sensing the kill, several of the local fleet warships broke off tailing the Firestorm and treated the Kilvar vessel to an extensive bombardment.
“Game over for those alien scumbags,” said Maddox in satisfaction.
“There’s a vessel exiting the carrier,” said Becerra, before anyone could form thoughts of celebration. “It’s four-point-two klicks in length and with an estimated twenty-five-billion-ton mass.”
Demonstrating to Flint that he had plenty to learn when it came to space dogfights, four or five of the nearby alliance warships switched targets, firing Terrus shots and missiles at the emerging spaceship.
“The engine monitoring tools are no longer interpreting the data in the way I’d expect,” said Fredericks. “I’m guessing that means we have an instability in our propulsion.”
“Stop it happening, Lieutenant! If we go into uncontrolled superstress, we might destroy Basalt, or lock it in permanent stasis!”
“I don’t think I can stop it, sir,” said Fredericks.
“Try!”
“I am trying!”
“There’s a second warship exiting the carrier. And a third,” said Becerra. “They are unaffected by our weapons.”
Although the Kilvar were outnumbered – the same way they’d always been – their invulnerability meant it wasn’t a fair fight. The countdown timer on the Firestorm’s destroyer cannon was tumbling, and while a single discharge might knock out one of these smaller vessels, it wouldn’t be enough to finish the carrier.
On top of everything, Flint had a clenching in his gut and it wasn’t caused by fear of his opponents. What terrified him most of all was the feeling his warship was far and away the most potentially destructive force in the arena. Worst of all, he had no idea how to control it and no idea what it might do.
The Kilvar warships began ejecting missiles in great quantities and then the familiar red beam jumped twice into the alliance fleet, discharged from locations on the carrier’s nose and stern. An annihilator’s mesh deflector activated, while the flank of an HPA heavy cruiser was turned into burning white and orange by the attack.
Flint’s mind threw up ideas, many of them desperate, and his eyes went to the SRT activation button on his screen. Perhaps the best idea of all would be to enter lightspeed for as long as the mode 3 would hold and take the Firestorm and the exium prototype far away from Basalt.
He reached out a finger and quickly withdrew it.
Go with your instinct.
“Shit,” he swore.
Right now, his instinct was telling him to go for broke.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Commander Maddox, fire the destroyer cannon at the
enemy carrier,” said Flint, allowing the Firestorm to continue coasting stern-first towards the moon. At its current velocity, it would impact soon and he increased forward thrust, to slow the approach.
“Targeting enemy vessel’s beam generator,” said Maddox.
The weapon fired and a two-thousand-metre section of the carrier’s nose was reduced to particles.
“Whoa, crap,” said Maddox. “That discharge affected a larger volume than the first.” She swore again. “There’s an amber light on the cannon’s charge module – it’s being fed too much power.”
“Can you limit the input?” asked Flint.
“There’s no option in the software, sir.”
“This is what happens when you take experimental hardware into battle,” said Flint. “Without that destroyer cannon, we can’t finish off these Kilvar.”
The tactical was filling up with enemy warships. Missiles sped in both directions and countermeasures sought them out. Shock bombs began to flash at erratic intervals, adding to the confusion.
“A lot of missiles are heading our way, sir,” said Maddox.
“We’re at the greatest distance, Commander. They have to pass through a lot of countermeasures to reach us - including our own.”
Those countermeasures weren’t so effective against particle beams and the carrier aimed one at the Firestorm.
“Mesh deflector activated!” said Maddox. “Cooldown timer dropping fast. Amber light on mesh deflector module #1.”
“They have a varying interval on their energy beams, sir,” said Lieutenant Bolan. “I’ve been counting the discharge times on both Kilvar warships and they’re unpredictable.”
Flint couldn’t do much about it and he hated relying on hope. “Fire the destroyer cannon, Commander Maddox,” he said. The recharge timer had fallen from an indicated five minutes to zero in approximately ten seconds.
“Destroyer cannon fired,” said Maddox.
A second massive section of the carrier exploded into dust, this time hitting the stern and part of the bay. The Kilvar warship was looking ragged, but it hadn’t broken up. Hellburners and Terrus slugs thundered into the areas exposed by the destroyer cannon shots, but the contents of the carrier’s hold continued spilling out. Each new vessel immediately launched missiles towards the Firestorm.
“We’ve dropped out of superstress, but the propulsion is at fifteen hundred percent overstress, sir!” said Fredericks. “I think I’ve figured out how to shut us down, but I don’t know if that’ll stop the instability!”
Flint opened his mouth, unsure what he was about to say. Before he could speak, the Firestorm’s propulsion changed state again and this time the inhalation sound which accompanied the superstress was cavernous and with infinite depths, with a godlike quality which gave Flint a sudden insight into how little of the universe humanity and the Daklan truly understood.
“Commander Maddox!” he shouted. “The destroyer cannon!”
Another officer might have suggested caution – might have told him that that overloaded weapon module could explode, unleashing its stored potential in a devastating blast that would turn the Firestorm into so much scrap, or set the ternium modules critical. Not Maddox.
“Firing the cannon,” she said.
A third huge hole appeared in the carrier, this time in its flank above the open bay doors. Through the opening, Flint spotted the three remaining battleships it was carrying, one of which had been cut in half by the cannon burst.
“Keep firing!”
“Cannon fired!” said Maddox.
This time, she aimed at the nearest enemy warship and its entire midsection vanished, leaving the nose and stern as separate pieces. Instead of continuing their journey at the same velocity, the ruined sections slowed until they were travelling in super-slow motion.
“We created a stasis field!” said Flint.
“Cannon fired!” said Maddox.
Half of another Kilvar warship was turned into powder and what remained entered the slowest of death tumbles towards the moon.
“A second stasis field,” said Flint. “Advise the other members of the fleet.”
“Yes, sir,” said Becerra.
“Missiles inbound!” warned Maddox. “Impacts any moment.”
The mesh deflector had recharged again already and it sprang into existence, causing the enemy warheads to detonate fruitlessly. It winked out and then reappeared in time to block one of the carrier’s energy beams.
“Red light on deflector module #1,” said Maddox. “It’s offline.”
“Fire the cannon!”
“Cannon discharged! The cooldown is finishing almost immediately.”
Only a handful of seconds had passed since the Firestorm entered superstress and Flint heard a background whine rising alongside the inhalation. Whatever was causing the noise, it probably wasn’t a positive development.
“One of the smaller Kilvar warship has been destroyed by missile fire!” said Garrett excitedly. “It wasn’t one of our targets!”
Sure enough, an enemy battleship was aflame and its hull was breaking apart, and it was happening at normal speed.
“The captain of the Kostralias reports that their last missile salvo was effective!” said Becerra. “Those smaller warships can’t remain invulnerable as long as the capital ships.”
“A red light appeared on the destroyer cannon, sir, but it’s showing online,” said Maddox. “Should I fire?”
Before Flint could answer, Garrett shouted loud enough for him to divert his attention.
“Fleet Admiral Recker is on the comms, sir! He wants to speak with you!”
“Pass him through! Open channel.”
“Amber light on mesh deflector module #2,” said Maddox. “Cooldown at one second.”
“Captain Flint,” said Recker, talking fast yet without panic. “We’re monitoring the Firestorm’s instrumentation from base. RL Moseley thinks you have one more shot out of the destroyer cannon – two at best. Worse, he’s certain you’re on the brink of an uncontrolled reaction in the ternium drive. That’s if one hasn’t already started.”
“Lieutenant Fredericks says he can shut the exium prototype down, sir, but the enemy threat is not neutralised. If they believe this engagement is lost, their best option will be to escape by SRT and that’s a reset we don’t need.”
“I agree,” said Recker. It sounded like he was well-informed about the real time events happening on the blind side of Basalt’s moon. “Listen carefully, Captain Flint. I’ve sent a synch code to the other warships and I’m going to order them into lightspeed. The moment it happens, I want you to discharge the Fracture, using the targeting coordinates I’ll send you.”
“Yes, sir,” said Flint. It wasn’t time for extended discussion and all he could do was accept the order.
“Keep me in the channel,” said Recker.
“Yes, sir.”
“Missile impacts imminent!” said Maddox. “Shock bomb deployed. Drones released.”
“The entire local fleet vanished from the tactical, sir!” said Becerra. “It’s just us and the Kilvar.”
“Mesh deflector activated! The status light is jumping from red to amber!”
This was far and away the most pressure Flint had ever been under. The tactical was full of red, his warship was failing and his superstressed engines were about to go into meltdown. Instead of breaking, he discovered an area of calm deep inside and allowed himself to descend into it. The tension in his muscles faded and his mind saw order amongst the chaos.
The Fracture could only be discharged by the Firestorm’s commanding officer. Touching the control panel, Flint brought it online and discovered it already contained the firing coordinates provided by Fleet Admiral Recker.
“I’ve confirmed a criticality in one of the aft ternium modules, sir!” said Fredericks. “There are signs of it happening in a second. I don’t know if I can…”
“Discharging Fracture,” said Flint.
A rendi
ng, cracking sound like a quadrillion-ton boulder being shattered by a planet-sized sledgehammer, made Flint yell in pain. The needles on the status panel jumped back and forward and some of the numerical readouts displayed figures that should not have been possible.
“Red light on the Fracture module!” said Flint.
“What is it meant to do?” asked Maddox.
“The enemy warships are still firing,” said Becerra.
“Fleet Admiral, I don’t know if the Fracture discharged or not.”
“If the Kilvar ships are shooting missiles, it hasn’t worked,” said Recker, his fury emerging from the bridge speakers like a physical force.
The Fracture had failed to operate, leaving Flint deeper in the shit than before. The enemy were certain to destroy the Firestorm, given the red lights on the warship’s defensive hardware. Then they’d either leave Basalt, or maybe they’d return and start punitive bombing.
As far as Flint could see only one option was left, and it wasn’t escape. “The destroyer cannon, Commander Maddox!” he ordered. “Use it!”
“Cannon discharged. Seven enemy ships plus the carrier remaining,” said Maddox. “Cannon recharged. Firing. Six left. Target selected. Firing. Five. Cannon recharged. Four. Holy crap! Carrier selected. Firing!”
Each cannon shot disintegrated an enemy warship and left the pieces in stasis. Such was the recharge speed of the weapon that it fired as rapidly as Maddox could retarget. It also seemed that each subsequent shot affected a greater volume than the one before and the burst aimed at the carrier wiped out most of its remaining midsection.
All the while, the whining of the propulsion became louder, and the superstress inhalation altered in pitch, like the two sounds were combining into one.
Despite the power of the cannon, it didn’t stop the enemy missiles, many of which were in flight. Flint’s eyes went to the flickering mesh deflector light. It was more often red than amber. He shifted his gaze to the forward feed, where the railers continued spewing thousands of slugs into the vacuum. Considering the quantity of missiles, it wasn’t nearly enough.
“Cannon discharged! Three left.”
Dark of the Void (Forged Alliance Book 1) Page 22