by John Filcher
Soon, all 3 Bulldogs made their final jumps. “Final jump complete. Schmidt, how are our babies doing?” Meyer asked after they appeared in the shadow of a larger rock.
“Receiving burst telemetry from all drones. They’re on station, and going dark now,” Schmidt replied.
“Time for us to do the same,” muttered Meyer as he maneuvered the Bulldog into a parking spot.
“Going to be a long couple weeks until we’re relieved,” Schmidt commented. “Good thing we brought plenty of books.”
Meyer snorted, “Books? You mean you didn’t bring that ancient disco music you’ve been listening to so you could torture me again?”
Schmidt laughed. “Oh no! I needed to up my game and come up with something more diabolical to torment you with. You were getting too used to that stuff.”
***
The scene in Bulldog 1 was little different as they lurked in the shadows of another large rock.
“Johnson, want any jerky?”
Johnson’s eyes appeared to open wide with fear. “No! You didn’t bring that horrid stuff, did you? The smell lingers for days!”
Patterson’s grin became evil as he laughed in reply. “Don’t worry. I only brought two pounds of it.”
Johnson nearly tripped as she came back towards the rear of the ship. “What!!”
With a dramatic flair of terribly exaggerated triumph, Patterson reached into his go bag to fetch a snack. “Wait! That’s not jerky!” he cried, looking sadly at the sack of sweet treats he had pulled from the go bag.
Now it was time for Johnson to laugh evilly. “You didn’t think I knew where you hide your go bag?”
“You will die a horrible death. It’ll be a tragic end for the ages,” he grumbled as he pulled out two of the treats and tossed one to Johnson.
Chapter 15
Icebreaker
“Captain Ronin, this is Lt. Commander Lazarus,” called Elvis Lazarus as he opened a commlink using his collar node.
“Ronin here,” answered Ronin.
“Captain, can you come down to Engineering? I’d like to show you what we’ve come up with.”
Seconds later, Ronin was on his way while Commander Mueller took his place. He arrived minutes later and was met by Lazarus at the hatchway.
“Thanks for coming, Captain. If you’ll follow me to the workstation?” Even though he had phrased it as a question, his tone was more of a command and statement.
“What do you have for me, Lt. Commander?”
Lazarus touched a screen button and brought up the holoimage of the ship with the estimated gravity field highlighted and shown to scale with the ship. “Captain, you were right. Remember the gravity lenses you and LeCroy toyed with for improving our sensor suite? We refined the software which operates the lenses to push out the gravity field generated by the jump drive to create a buffer in front of the ship instead of jumping away.”
Ronin studied the holo thoughtfully. “How much mass can we push?” he inquired.
“Our calculations show we can push roughly 10 megatons of rock around, as long as we don’t have too much velocity built up before the field comes into contact with the target,” Lazarus replied as he also looked at the holoimage.
Ronin broke into a grin at that mental imagery. “It’d be a heck of a bang if we did that. Quite a way to go out,” he remarked. “How long before we can get started?” he asked.
“Within the hour. We’ve already made the preliminary preparations under the assumption you’d green light the rest of the production when you saw what we came up with.”
Ronin nodded his approval. “Excellent work, Mr. Lazarus. Get started and let the bridge know when we’re ready.”
When he returned to the bridge, Ronin walked over to LeCroy and motioned both Mueller and Lt. Pierre Delacroix over. “The Chief says we’ll be rigged up to push rocks within the hour. Delacroix, filter your existing scan results to exclude everything over 10 megatons of mass. LeCroy, make sure Perez is working from your updated tactical map, especially for making the new escape route and designated ambush zones. Any questions?” he finished.
All heads nodded in the negative. “OK, let’s get ready to make it happen,” said Ronin.
The hour crawled by for Ronin. Finally, his commlink’s collar node buzzed.
“Captain, this is Chief Lazarus. We’re ready.”
Ronin pushed the screen button. “Acknowledged. Ronin out.”
He looked up at Delacroix and LeCroy. “OK. It’s your show. Let’s get started.”
Cerberus began the long process of pushing stones. It’s like Sisyphus just got drafted from forever pushing a rock uphill into pushing rocks around in the universe’s largest landscaping project, Ronin thought as they approached the first target.
Chapter 16
Battle of the Belt
Space and time took on totally different meanings, depending on a person’s perspective. For the Cerberus and her crew, they were exceptionally busy playing galactic landscaper. It took five weeks to arrange the strategic situation more to their liking.
Everyone knows time passes quickly when you’re busy, thought Mueller as she shook off the exhaustion of another short night of sleep. She looked at Karl, who would still be sleeping for several more hours, as would their children. Well, you wanted to become XO of the amazing new ship. Suck it up, cupcake, she said to herself as she slowly stood up to stretch quietly for a few moments before stumbling into the washroom for a quick shower.
It was a similar story in Ronin’s quarters as he swung his legs off the bed onto the floor. He stood up as he yawned and stretched. I swear I just went to bed a few minutes ago! Must start the magic go juice machine, his bleary mind told itself as he slowly migrated towards his precious coffee machine. Minutes later, he was showering up in a near scalding spray of water as the magic go juice machine perked away.
Once he finished, he grabbed a cup from the new pot of coffee, and sipped while he threw on his daily uniform. Ronin was happy he remembered to top off his mug this time before he went to work.
It was an entirely different story in the Bulldogs. There the enemy was boredom, causing time to drag by for the crews working their ships. Pilots and rear-seaters alternated twelve-hour shifts while their opposite half tried to rest or find something to do while they remained dark and on station for a week at a time.
As he approached the bridge, Ronin’s commlink node on his collar beeped with an incoming message.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Delacroix. The drone sensor net just reported they’ve spotted inbound enemy war birds. Are you on your way to the bridge?”
In lieu of acknowledging the message, Ronin simply walked onto the bridge seconds later. “Lieutenant Delacroix. Number and composition of enemy fleet?” he asked, ignoring the surprised looks of the bridge crew at his sudden appearance instead.
“Five enemy war birds, Captain. Four frigates, and a destroyer approaching the outer marker of the path we followed to here,” Delacroix began saying when he was interrupted by an incoming transmission that demanded his attention.
“Captain, Bulldog 2 has detected two more enemy frigates coming through the other known pathway through the field. Looks like they’re taking up blocking positions to keep Argo from escaping.”
Ronin nodded. “Obviously they’ve located the Argo. Lieutenant Delgado, open a Tacnet commlink to our task force.”
Moments later, Lt. Maria Delgado responded, “Tacnet channel open, Captain.”
Ronin nodded his thanks at the quick response. “By now each of you in task force 58 has a clear picture of the situation. Seven enemy vessels, two of which are in a blocking formation, while the main five try to chase the prey right into them. Cerberus has a few surprises for them, so as per the plans previously sent to you by drone, sit tight and let the ambushes do their thing before we provide an up
date on battle damage assessment. Ronin out.”
The Ike
Capt. Mark Toft closed the commlink and looked at his tactical officer. “Lieutenant Savoy, sound Action Stations.”
Savoy looked at Toft after the klaxon sounded, “All stations report combat-ready, Captain. Any thoughts on what kind of ambush Cerberus has planned?”
Toft shook his head. “Nope. Captain Ronin kept that under wraps for security purposes, but knowing him, it will be quite a nasty surprise.”
Bulldog 1 — Alpha Station
Bulldog 1 had been deployed to the pre-positioned asteroid designated Alpha Station for five days on its latest deployment to the same spot.
“Four frigates and a destroyer,” remarked Patterson, staring at the formation of enemy ships displayed on his screen. “They haven’t seen us and we’re still dark so this is just from our passive optics. Cerberus has confirmed we’re a go for the ambush. Frigates are arrayed around the destroyer in their standard protective formation.”
Pilot Officer Erin Johnson listened intently while she chewed on a piece of Patterson’s beef jerky. “OK, Patterson, vector six of the drones in this group with the weapons pods into the destroyer first, then send the two nearest groups this way, ASAP.”
Patterson nodded to himself before counting down, “Time on target, one minute. Thirty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Optics confirms multiple impacts!”
Johnson grinned. “Yeah! How much damage?”
Patterson shook his head. “I can’t tell, too much junk in the way. Needs time to clear.” Patterson’s board beeped for his attention. “Next drone flight arriving in five minutes. They are moving at extremely high velocity now.”
The cabin of the Bulldog fell quiet for a few minutes as they watched their screens. To help ease their nerves and pass the time, both of them chewed on some of Patterson’s beef jerky that he snuck past Johnson’s defenses the next time they deployed. The smell slowly permeated the cabin as they ate.
“Optics show minor hull breaches on the destroyer, but there must be some internal damage as she’s venting a stream of atmosphere from her port side. Looks like the drones took down a couple of weapons turrets,” murmured Patterson, not looking away from his screen. “Drone impact, 30 seconds.” he added just as the starboard side of the destroyer lit up with point defense fire.
“I see it,” noted Johnson. “We may have to launch our weapons soon, then make ourselves scarce fast,” she continued. They watched as two more drones impacted the destroyer, this time on the starboard side.
“Only two drones got through, their point defense stopped the others,” Patterson confirmed. “Observation drone sending damage assessment. Several starboard maneuvering thrusters were destroyed,” Patterson added.
“That’ll hurt when they try to navigate their way further into the belt to get at the Argo. The destroyer will take a lot longer to make their course changes without those thrusters.” Johnson said approvingly.
Job nearly done, the two of them fell silent again as they unconsciously mimicked their Bulldog, which was itself quietly lurking in the shadows of an asteroid. They continued to watch the fleet as it passed by their position. Patterson’s workstation commlink beeped with an incoming message from Captain Ronin.
“Excellent work, Bulldog 1. After they’ve passed by, launch your Grasshoppers and bug out before you’re spotted.”
Johnson thumbed her screen button and responded, “Affirmative. Estimate five minutes until Grasshopper launch.”
Johnson and Patterson silently watched their screens as the passive sensor’s plot of the fleet continued crawling forward at a slower pace than before the ambush. Patterson had put a countdown timer on the corner of their displays, which was adjusting its remaining time to factor in the enemy’s slowing pace as it approached the next attack zone, where a passing asteroid would temporarily block the fleet’s line of sight to the Bulldog, so they could jump without the flare being spotted.
As the countdown finally reached zero, Johnson spun up the Bulldog’s jump engines and put some space between them and their hiding spot. “Ready for jump,” she called to Patterson.
“Grasshopper launch in ten seconds,” Patterson responded. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Launch!”
The two Grasshoppers shot out of the weapons pod mounted between the landing skids. “Jumping,” Johnson announced, as they jumped away from Alpha Station to return to Cerberus.
Bulldog 2 — Beta Station
Pilot Officer Ensign Helmut Meyer watched his screen carefully. He was startled when the quiet was suddenly broken by Pilot Officer Schmidt’s quiet musing.
“Our little backwater is getting more exciting than we we’re hoping for,” Meyer watching the passive optics plot of the two AC frigates slowly working their way through the navigation channel to get at the Argo.
“Tacnet data says the main fight is near the outer marker of Alpha Station. Bulldog 1 is about to launch their Grasshoppers,” Schmidt added a few moments later.
Meyer eyed the countdown time Schmidt had placed on their screens until the pair of frigates arrived at the pre-selected ambush spot that had previously been designated Wolf 99. “These guys are about to learn the hard way they’ve been seen,” he responded as the number ticked down to thirty seconds to drone impact.
Schmidt began the countdown soon after. “Five, four, three, two, one. Impact!” All five drones that had been mounted with weapons pods impacted on the lead frigate at an extremely high velocity because they had plenty of time to accelerate due to the early sighting.
“Observation drone optics imagery coming in now. Lead frigate is holed with at least three through and throughs because the velocity was so high,” Schmidt observed.
Meyer was also watching the same show play out on his screen. “Looks like the main engines were erased by one of the impacts and the warhead detonation. That ship isn’t going to come back from the dead,” he said.
Schmidt laughed in response. “Those drones were practically turned into kinetic weapons because they’d built up so much velocity!” she said excitedly.
Still maintaining their dark and silent status, they watched as the remaining frigate launched a screen of drones to give itself a larger sensor net as it accelerated away under full power. “Unsurprisingly, they’re not even bothering to check for survivors before dashing into the navigation channel at reckless speeds,” Schmidt commented as they followed the plot on her screen as they waited for the frigate and its drones to pass by their deeply shadowed hiding spot.
“The Collective doesn’t have citizens like the Confederation does, they have subjects. The Collective just doesn’t care about its powerless subjects or their lives. It just cares about the State, and its ruling class,” Meyer responded.
Schmidt nodded without taking her eyes from the screen plot while she replied. “Yeah, that’s the natural end point of all socialist, communist, or collectivist systems by whatever name. They all end up the same way because human nature inevitably results in some folks saying or doing whatever they need to do in order to become more powerful.”
Meyer also didn’t take his eyes from the screen plot in front of him. “The irony of it is, those collectivist or socialist systems which purport to make everyone equal are far more susceptible to certain people taking power for themselves and making themselves the rulers over the little people. At least the Confederacy tries to avoid that by spreading power between equal branches and having a democratic vote. It’s not perfect but realistically, people themselves aren’t perfect either so it’s the best system ever devised.” he said.
Schmidt’s countdown timer that she put onto both of their screens adjusted itself to thirty seconds while they watched the frigate shrink into the distance.
“Spinning up the engines,” Meyer announced as the Bulldog separated itself from its asteroid. “Ready for jump,” he calle
d to Sophie a few seconds later.
“Grasshopper launch in ten seconds,” Schmidt responded. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Launch!” The two Grasshoppers shot out of the weapons pod mounted between Bulldog 2’s landing skids.
“Jumping,” Meyer announced as soon as the Grasshoppers flashed into hyperspace. Bulldog 2 then jumped away from Beta Station and the ambush at Wolf 99 to return to Cerberus.
Cerberus — At Yankee Station
The space occupied by Cerberus had been designated Yankee Station. As Captain Ronin cut the link with Bulldog 1, Lt. Matt LeCroy looked over from his tactical station.
“Captain, Tacnet shows Bulldog 2 launched their Grasshoppers and jumped back to Cerberus for a reload, and Bulldog 4 is conducting the battle damage assessment of Bulldog 2’s engagement via passive scans only.”
Ronin nodded. “Acknowledged. Thank you, LeCroy.”
While LeCroy was busy with the overall tactical situation, Mueller was closely monitoring both the rearming of Bulldog 1 and the second ambush point of the incoming fleet. “Bulldog 1 reports ready to launch in five minutes,” she noted to LeCroy and Ronin. Mueller then added, “Captain, Bulldog 4 reports the two-frigate task force has been destroyed. Survivors are unlikely due to the extent of the damage. The two Grasshoppers turned the second frigate into spare parts.”
Mueller looked up from the screen plot she was following, then she glanced at Ronin with her eyebrows raised. Ronin met her eyes, his eyebrows likewise shooting up. Mueller switched screens to pull up an image of the last frigate that was taken by Bulldog 4.
“Captain Ronin, I think the Grasshoppers packed more punch than we anticipated,” she said as LeCroy leaned over to look at the screen that showed a debris field with some larger hull pieces slowly spinning away. LeCroy whistled softly to himself as he examined the images.
Ronin walked over to where they were standing. “Wow!” he exclaimed, then he, too, whistled softly. “Turns out the hulls weren’t designed to withstand explosions from the inside, huh?”