by Dennis Young
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
Mitchell’s squadron took up orbit around Harmony’s only moon, keeping a close eye on the Qoearc, still in stationary orbit around the planet. Mitchell had finally called a vid-conference from his ready room with Guererro and Trachenberg, reviewing the conversation with Carmichael, discussing options, when Rashim called from the Bridge.
“Hail from the Qoearc ship above the largest city, Captain.”
Mitchell nodded, as did the images of the other captains on his screen. “Route it here in thirty seconds, Lieutenant. Captains, I want you on the line listening, but no comments. Let’s see what they have to say before we decide our next moves.”
The screen split, and the nearly-reptilian face of a Qoearc appeared. “Toks, Zacan of Diviak Nurmeen. Who are you?”
“Captain Harlan Mitchell, EAS Burlingame, Earth Alliance Command, in charge of this task force. You are trespassing in an Earth Alliance Protectorate system and have caused destruction and any number of deaths on the inhabited world. This is technically an act of war, Zacan Toks. Stand down your ships and I will arrange a conference of our respective governments to resolve this matter.”
Toks’s reply was so high-pitched, it was nearly above human hearing. The translator spoke. “This system is open. We do not recognize your claim, therefore whatever has been done is our responsibility only. Leave, or prepare for battle.”
The link broke.
Well, that was short and to the point, thought Mitchell. He brought the other captains back online. “Comments?”
“He’s Qoearc, all right,” said Guererro from Marshall, a crooked smile on her lips.
“Typical, and very unambiguous, Captain,” said Trachenberg. “He’s inviting us to attack. Overly-sure of himself, as many Qoearc commanders are.”
“He has three ships and is likely confident of their superiority,” said Mitchell, “plus he’s holding the planet hostage. Even if we can, as Elder-First Carmichael said, draw them away from Harmony, it’s unlikely they would engage us. So our plan has to be how to keep Harmony safe while we do our jobs.”
“What is our job, Mitch?” asked Guererro. “At this point, should we turn this over to the diplomats and let them haggle it out with the Qoearc High Command? We stay to make sure they don’t inflict any more casualties, keep the planet safe, and basically wait it out? Wouldn’t that be the safest thing now?”
Mitchell considered; he knew Guererro’s words were true. At this point they were in a stalemate and any provocation would likely do more harm than good.
“Suggestion, sir,” said Trachenberg. “Launch the AI fighters, take orbit around Harmony, and see what the Qoearc do. It might entice them to try to capture one or more for the tech, and give us an opening.”
“So they can start shooting while in orbit?” Guererro shook her head on the screen. “I don’t see how that gets them away from the planet.”
“Run away, as the old saying goes,” replied Trachenberg. “They just might follow. Get one or more of them out of the system where we can fight.”
“I doubt regardless of what we do, we can’t draw all three ships away,” said Mitchell.
Trachenberg shook her head. “Yet as you explained to the Elder-Frist, the Qoearc are in high orbit and the chance of debris falling on their planet is very slight. Sir, somehow we have to break this impasse. The Qoearc won’t understand any action but a bloody nose. You know as well as I do, if we leave this up to legal wrangling, the Qoearc will come away with something from this system, when they started with nothing. Mining rights, harvesting asteroids, whatever. We can’t allow that.”
Mitchell caught a look from Guererro, one urging caution. “Let me think about your suggestion, Commander. In the meantime, let’s prepare the AI’s. This might just be a good time to see what we’ve really got.”
“Aye, sir,” came the reply in unison. Trachenberg flashed a brief grin before she closed her contact.
“Mitch… be careful,” said Guererro. “This could start a war.”
Mitchell nodded, glancing away for a moment. “You don’t have to tell me twice, Sonja. But the commander is right. The Qoearc will somehow find a way to wrest something from the Harmonians, and that’s the truth of it. We need to find a way to keep that from happening. That’s why we’re here.”
* * *
Straum had left Special-Ops immediately after the conference between Mitchell and Harmony. The captain had surreptitiously patched her and Allard in, and now she stood on the hangar deck, watching the “roadies” scramble to get the AI fighters to the launch bays. She conferred with her tactical people, checked ordnance personally, spoke with the Air Boss, and generally tried to stay busy to quell the growing anxiety. She had always led by example. This time it was difficult, because if the AI’s proved to be as good as advertised, it could mean the end of her command.
“Locked and loaded,” came the report into her earpiece. “Ten AI’s ready for launch, Phoenix and Valkyrie fighters in prep. Control standing by.”
Straum nodded and touched her throat mike. “Acknowledged,” she replied softly.
The AI’s were smaller, more compact, but just as heavily armed as the typical Phoenix one-man fighters. The Valkyrie’s were a bit larger than the Phoenix, with two crewmembers and a different purpose. They were the “dive bombers” that would close and release torpedoes at optimum range, almost guaranteeing a hit, while the Phoenix fighters provided cover… and fodder for the target ship’s fire.
Straum knew the monitors in flight control were officially in charge of the AI fighters, but Special-Ops could, and would, override if necessary. The same was true for the crewed fighters; there were override commands in every ship that would allow Special-Ops to take over if required. Only once in her piloting career had that happened to her. It was the only mark on an otherwise exemplary record. She had sworn to never make such a mistake again, and Mitchell had now given her the opportunity to keep that promise.
She touched her intercom button. “Captain, AI’s are ready to launch on your command. Ten-high.”
“Very well, Commander. Launch at your discretion. Then return to your station.”
“Aye, sir.” She switched to the air wing frequency. “Air Boss, Tally-Ho.”
“Roger, Tally-Ho acknowledged.”
Straum grinned tightly, not knowing whether to be ecstatic or horrified the AI’s might succeed.
Three
First Engagement
“Duty Log, Captain Harlan Mitchell, 161207.18. So it begins.”
* * *
QAS Diviak Nurmeen…
“Zacan! Small craft approaching, ten, twenty… no, thirty! Taking up orbit in proximity to our ships, ten each! No fire, no arming of weapons.” The Tactical Officer turned to Toks. “No life signs!”
Toks ruminated. “No crew? Robots? Analyze!”
Tactical and Alien Studies worked quickly as weapons crews armed and tracked the tiny ships. The Tactical Officer faced Toks again. “We surmise these are autonomous craft, fully armed and able to attack without prior direction. There are heavily encrypted links to the major ships detected, but they seem to carry only feedback, not orders from the Earth Alliance war cruisers.”
“Zacan, these are the ‘fighters’ spoken of. But I was not aware—” The FedStudies Officer’s voice cut off as the commander held a clawed hand for silence.
Toks watched as the small ships took positions in his orbit, five ahead, five behind, well within his range, but too close to use the heavy weapons, lest he damage his own ship from harmonics or debris if he fired.
“Clever deployment,” he muttered, then looked to Tactical again. “Get me a full analysis on capabilities. I want to capture one or more of these ships for the High Command.”
“There may be self-destructs incorporated in the design,” said Alien Studies. “We should be cautious.”
“Cautious?” Toks’s scales rippled with heat and color. “We may well have more th
an what we came for! Find a way to capture one of these ships and make it safe to bring aboard. Prepare close-defense weapons to deal with the others.” He motioned his First Officer to his side. “Contact all ships, have them do the same. Capture one, destroy the others. Then we may simply leave.”
“Zacan, is that wise? Our orders were to take the system and prepare for occupation.”
“That we will do.” Toks looked to the screen again. “After we have destroyed the Earthfleet ships in combat, and possibly even captured one of them as well. It could be a glorious mission, if we are bold.”
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
Straum and Allard watched closely from Special-Ops as the AI’s deployed in classic line-ahead formation fore and aft of the Qoearc ships. They had been adamant with the programmers; no fire unless approved by command from Special-Ops, and standard defensive protocols to be used. It was a gamble, that the Qoearc fire control would simply be overwhelmed by ten targets per ship, possibly too quick and agile for accurate defense.
But these were Qoearc, not pirates. They might well simply use a broad-band electro-magnetic pulse, and deal with the consequences of damage to their own ships while knocking out the AI’s in one punch, if they could draw them close enough. Straum had thought of that only after launch, and said nothing to Allard or anyone else, let alone the captain. She hoped she was wrong.
Regardless, they would learn from this engagement. And possibly enrage the Qoearc enough they would press the squadron for confrontation, at which time they could draw them away from Harmony and deal with what followed.
“No hostile fire… yet,” said Allard from the intercom. He was deeper in Special-Ops, in the auxiliary Bridge, while Straum watched in the main control room. Color codes flashed on the screen, sometimes too quickly to follow, and the graphics gave data only trained eyes could read. It was spooky, how focused the monitoring agents could be, watching the main screen, their own screens, readouts scrolling past them from secondary systems, all while talking with and receiving instructions from the Leads prowling the aisles between banks of monitoring stations.
It was warmer here than the rest of the ship, and during actual combat, the ventilation system sent out a constant whir of sound. A bead of perspiration trickled down Straum’s temple. She caught herself clenching her teeth and tapping a nervous foot. She breathed, then again.
She grinned, and realized once more, how much she loved this moment.
* * *
QAS Diviak Nurmeen…
Toks prepared his crew. Instructions went to the Weapons Officer; capture one of the Earth Alliance fighter ships and destroy all others. EVA details were poised at various airlocks, three auxiliary craft were loaded with environmental-suited Qoearc, and a ship’s boat had launched, drifting close to Diviak Nurmeen, awaiting further orders. Then Toks waited to see what the tiny ships would do, while his Secondary Systems monitored the Earth Alliance war cruisers.
The mass-drivers were not yet online, but preheats had been initiated. Both fore and aft phased-charge emitters were dark, but Toks could bring those to readiness in only moments. He suspected Earthfleet was as anxious as he to see what the fighter craft could do. This was a test, not only of the fighters, not only for the Qoearc, but for Earth Alliance as well. His FedStudies Officer had surmised this was the first time the fighter craft had been used in such a situation. Therefore, it was a waiting game, and the first to blink would likely lose.
Toks had no interest in idioms, however. His initial reaction was to act, but the old proverb kept reverberating in his mind:
“Fire is no place for a battle.”
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
Mitchell flipped his command seat intercom. “Captain to Air Boss. Give me a status update.”
“Standing by, Captain,” came the too-young sounding male voice. “Phoenix-ten ready to deploy to launch ports, Valkyrie-ten post-prep, damage control parties in place, rearming crews have completed ordnance checkdowns. Flight deck is green.”
“Very good. Eyes front.” Click. “Mister Rashim, anything from Harmony? Or the Qoearc?”
Rashim turned in his seat to face Mitchell. “Nothing, sir. All channels are clear.”
“Tactical, status?”
Lieutenant Neunada scanned his readouts. “Weapons currently in pre-charge, countermeasures activated, accumulators at full capacity. Marshall and Armstrong acknowledge ready, sir.”
Mitchell glanced to the E-tech at the Engineering console. “Ensign?”
“Impulse and hyperlight at your command. All systems optimal.”
“Helm, Nav, Sciences?”
“Helm answering sir.”
“Navigation is clear.”
“Science station standing by for analysis as necessary.”
“Secondary systems?”
“Clear, sir, damage control parties and security on-station. Life support is at battle conditions.”
Mitchell nodded. It was a good ship, a tight ship. A fighting ship. He sat back and watched the twin screens, waiting for whatever was to come.
* * *
QAS Diviak Nurmeen…
“Zacan, crews are in position and weapons are fully charged. Commencing the operation on your command.” Toks’s First Officer waited anxiously beside his commander. The air was thick and warm, the Bridge bathed in deep lighting, and scent of prey drifted in the background of Bridge sounds.
Toks watched the screen again, waiting, subconsciously keeping his First Officer on edge. He enjoyed the feeling for a long moment, nearly snapping his razor teeth in anticipation. He raised a hand, poised. The Bridge tensed around him. His hand descended. “Yal’ak!”
Secondary weapons fired in unison at the line of Earth Alliance fighters; mini-mass drivers, particle beams, heavy slug-throwers, everything the Vrex-class had for close-in support. Three of the tiny ships disintegrated beneath the onslaught as they broke from orbit, two others spun into the darkness, and the remaining five veered off in all directions. The damaged fighters blossomed as their self-destruct systems functioned, while the others buzzed Diviak Nurmeen like angry bees.
Toks watched as the autonomous ships closed, withdrew, whipping about in seemingly reckless abandon, faster than anything he had ever seen. His weapons could not target them fast enough, not because of fire-control issues, but because they simply could not bring their guns to bear in time. Yet still, the Earthfleet ships did not return fire, and Toks knew then, attack was not their real intent.
“Hold fire, recalibrate.” He snapped orders and his crew obeyed, then he turned his attention once more to the screen. “Analysis?”
“Zacan, as seen, our weapons cannot track quickly enough. In some cases, the enemy is close enough nearly to skim our ship’s hull. We cannot follow their movements, nor can our systems-analysis predict where they are going. They appear to be truly random in their maneuvering.”
“What would happen if we discharged one of our secondary emitters a ship-length away?”
Tactical conferred quickly with Defense and Life Support. “Zacan, we will sustain damage, of course, but none critically.”
“If we draw them in, then discharge a particle beam, would that slow them enough to capture one?”
Again, the Tactical Officer and others gathered in a group. At last he turned to Toks once more. “Zacan, we cannot say. Our polarized hull can deflect physical objects of some size, but these ships may be too massive.”
“I want to capture one, not deflect it!”
“Zacan, your order is understood, yet it is unknowable. However, we see no great harm to Diviak Nurmeen in trying.”
“Do so! Capture one of these ships immediately!”
The crew conferred for moments again, then returned to their places. The fighters continued to circle without firing. Polarization was extended beyond that typical for the Vrex-class. Two fighters slowed measurably when they passed within the energy field, and Toks nearly let out a victory snarl
. His scales glowed nearly into infrared.
“Zacan, one ship has fired! No damage to Diviak Nurmeen!”
“Grappler, yal’ak!”
One of the fighters slowed nearly to a stop as the grappler beam engaged. Then it exploded in a ball of white light. Diviak Nurmeen shook all the way to the Bridge.
“Again!”
This time, Weapons fired first, through the stern of the fighter, disabling its engine. The ship drifted, and the Qoearc boat closed quickly, deploying a dozen space-suited figures who attached cables to the wreckage. Toks had guessed the self-destruct had been in the engine compartment. He nodded in satisfaction.
“Bring it aboard immediately. Tactical, take out those other fighters if you can, otherwise, ignore them. Helm prepare to get underway, maximum Over-c once we are outside the star’s singularity. Yal’ak!”
* * *
EAS Burlingame…
Mitchell watched aghast as the AI fighters were decimated by the Qoearc ship. He growled in disgust and hit the intercom key, punching in the code that would direct the call to Special-Ops. “Commander Straum, what the hell just happened?”
Straum paused before answering. “Our strategy failed miserably, sir.”
“What strategy? You lined the AI’s up like a shooting gallery! Explain!”
Another pause. “With instructions not to fire, we thought to give the smallest cross-section target, with the ships in line-ahead. From that alignment, we could break in any direction and minimize chances of a hit.”