by Ryk Brown
“Gunners are idiots,” the chief commented.
“Hey!”
“I’m sure she wasn’t talking about you, Ali,” Aiden was quick to point out.
“Multiple jump flashes,” Sergeant Dagata reported. “One hundred and twenty clicks off our port side, ten down.”
“Striker Leader, Shenza Leader,” Vol called over comms. “Sorry we’re late. I hope we didn’t miss anything.”
“You’re just in time, Shenza Leader. Glad to have you,” Robert replied.
“We wouldn’t start without you, Vol,” Lieutenant Haddix called from Reaper Six.
“Who brought the booze?” Tham asked jokingly.
“Kill all four ships and I’m buyin’,” Robert insisted.
“Deal!” Tham quickly agreed.
“You can all wait here, and we’ll take care of them for you,” Tariq boasted.
“Be my guest!” Lieutenant Haddix replied.
“Contact,” Sergeant Dagata reported. “Stealth comm-drone…just arrived. It’s transmitting.”
“This is it, boys and girls,” Robert announced. “Get ready to jump. Remember your attack vectors and departure patterns. There’s going to be a lot of us jumping in and out, so keep your heads on a swivel. That goes for pilots, copilots, sensor operators…anyone who has a window or a sensor display. We jump in thirty seconds.”
“Missiles are jumping away!” Sergeant Dagata reported.
“Thank God,” Aiden said with relief.
Kenji looked at his friend. “You’re not normal.”
* * *
Captain Derrabo sat at the small desk in his ready room, studying the sensor records of the Dusahn’s botched attack on the Rogen system. “Arrogance beyond belief,” he muttered.
“You did disable their recording devices in this room, did you not?” his first officer asked.
“Oh, they still work; they just never record anything but background noise.” The captain smiled. “The Dusahn believe me to be a man of few words.” He looked at the sensor logs again. “The only smart one of the bunch was Sulan. At least he was wise enough to get out and get word back about the capabilities of this Karuzari Alliance.”
“An act he will no doubt be punished for,” his first officer remarked.
“Indeed.”
“Do you think they may be the ones?”
The captain leaned to one side, peering out the open hatch, checking that no one was within earshot. “Based on this battle, perhaps. But we do not have enough intel yet to make that determination. The Dusahn rarely tell us everything, even when they send us in as sacrificial horaguns.”
“They did defeat three ships,” his first officer said, “including a battleship. It is enough to make one wonder.”
“Those of us with families back home do not have the luxury of indulging such thoughts. Cherish that you can, Stethan.”
“Captain, Officer of the Deck,” the voice called over the intercom.
Captain Derrabo reached over and pressed the intercom button. “Go ahead, Mister Vari.”
“Urgent message from Dusahn Command. New orders directly from Lord Dusahn. We are to immediately attack the Aurora and destroy her. Maximum force, no retreat.”
“On my way,” the captain replied, turning off the intercom afterward. “Like I said, horaguns to the slaughter.” The captain rose slowly from his seat, the years of command wearing heavily on his tired, old body. “Time to serve the empire, Commander Andreola.”
“Service is life,” the commander stated in a near mocking tone as he, too, rose to exit.
The commander stepped aside, allowing his captain to pass and enter the Amonday’s bridge before him, in accordance with protocol. As tired and jaded as the old captain was, he was a good man, and Stethan had learned much from him. Most junior officers were not fortunate enough to be able to share their discontent with the empire with their superior officer, and his ability to do so had made the last few years far more bearable than they might otherwise have been.
“Captain on the bridge!” the officer of the deck barked.
“Have you confirmed the authenticity of the orders, Mister Vari?” the captain asked as he headed toward his command chair.
“The orders are authentic, Captain.”
“Mister Tolan?”
“I concur,” the lieutenant replied. “The orders are authentic.”
“Very well. Ensign Mayer, alert the other ships that we are preparing to jump to the Rogen system to destroy the Aurora.”
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Mayer replied.
“Helm, set course for the Rogen system and prepare to jump on my orders,” the captain instructed.
“Turn to new course,” the helmsman replied sharply. “Two one five by zero one seven. Accelerating to two triple zero.”
Captain Derrabo looked at his first officer for confirmation, knowing the commander had a knack for navigation and always seemed to know the proper course at a moment’s notice. When the commander nodded his approval, the captain replied, “Execute your turn, Mister Theunis.”
“Coming to two one five by zero one seven, accelerating to two thousand. Starting jump calcu…”
“Contacts!” the sensor officer interrupted. “Jump missiles! Fifteen of them!”
“Raise shields!” Commander Andreola barked.
“How far?” the captain demanded.
“Point-defenses and countermeasures!” the commander added.
“Port side! Ten seconds!” the sensor officer replied.
“Helm, full power, hard to starboard!” the captain ordered.
“Point-defenses engaging!” the weapons officer announced.
“Five seconds to impact!”
“Countermeasures away!”
“All hands, brace for impact!” Commander Andreola called over the ship’s loudspeakers as he grabbed the nearby railing with both hands.
A series of explosions violently rocked the ship, the third of which tossed the young commander over the railing and onto the next level down from the command platform. The lights went out, and screams of pain were heard as men met their untimely demise. The commander suddenly felt as if the air was being pulled from his lungs. He heard the voices of his bridge staff shouting out reports of damage, but their voices seemed distant and nearly unintelligible. Acrid smoke instantly filled his lungs, and for a moment the commander felt as if he would lose consciousness.
The explosions and the shaking stopped, and the lights came back on, albeit not at their usual intensity. Fresh air rushed back in, and the commander coughed as he tried to inhale. His lungs burned, and his eyes were watering. His head hurt, as well, but his hearing was returning to normal. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, and looked around the bridge, immediately spotting his commanding officer lying motionless on the floor not two meters away. “Captain!” he barked, scrambling to his side. He reached for the old man’s neck, visibly relieved when he found a pulse. “Medical!” he barked. “The captain’s injured!”
Two men appeared, as if from nowhere, one of them grabbing the commander and yanking him to his feet as the other man dropped to his knees beside the fallen captain.
Now standing, Commander Andreola looked around, quickly surveying the condition of the Amonday’s bridge. She was battered, but her systems appeared to be functioning for the most part. “Damage report!” he barked. “Shields and weapons!”
“Port shields are gone!” Lieutenant Tolan replied. “All other shields are at eighty percent!”
Commander Andreola spun around, surprised to be getting the weapons report from an engineering officer. Then he spotted the lifeless corpse of his weapons officer lying on the floor a meter away from his station.
“More contacts!” the sensor officer reported. “Gunships! And fighters!”
“Helm, evasive one four, and prepare an open escape jump, just in case,” Commander Andreola ordered.
“Evasive one four,” the helmsman confirmed.
“How many
missiles hit us?” the commander wondered, his senses still not fully returned.
“Three impacts, sir!” the sensor officer replied. “If we hadn’t been turning, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Lieutenant Tolan, engage all ion cannons and target the attacking ships, starting with their gunships,” the commander barked.
* * *
“Four targets,” Striker One’s sensor officer reported, “two heavies and two frigates.”
“Scan the heavies,” Robert instructed. “I want to know what they’re packing.”
“Take the heavy to the left,” his copilot instructed. “He’s turning away.”
“The heavy to the left has no port shields!” the sensor officer reported.
“That’s why he’s turning away,” the copilot surmised. “He’s trying to protect his port side.”
“Strikers Three and Four, abort and jump to the far side of the heavy on the left,” Robert ordered over comms. “His port shields are down. Designate him as Heavy One.”
“Three copies,” Aiden replied from Striker Three.
“Four copies,” Char acknowledged for Striker Four.
“Char, dive under and follow me across, then we’ll break opposite on the far side and come in on forty-fives to the target,” Aiden instructed.
“Copy.”
“Firing,” Robert reported as he let loose the first salvos of plasma torpedoes toward the turning warship.
“Strikers are targeting the heavy on the left,” Vol called over comms. Two, Three, and Four; follow me to the frigate cutting between the two heavies. Five through Eight; dive down and jump in far under them, and come straight up from below, but keep on the frigate’s midship section. We’ll jump fore and aft to stay out of your lanes.”
“What about the other frigate?” Dosne asked from Shenza Five. “He’s a sitting duck!”
“His jump drive is down,” Isa explained from Shenza One’s back seat. “He’s not going anywhere soon.”
“We have to prevent anyone from jumping!” Vol added as he adjusted his course and opened fire with his Gunyoki’s main, engine-driven plasma cannons.
“We’re being targeted,” Isa warned.
“By the frigate?”
“By all of them!”
As if on cue, Vol’s sensor display lit up with streams of rail gun fire, crisscrossing his flight path.
“Rail guns!” Vol warned his pilots. “How many hits can we take, Isa?”
“Depends on their size and velocity, and if they’re…”
The Gunyoki fighter’s shields lit up as the first slugs arrived, causing the ship to bounce wildly. Vol felt as if they were being showered by waves of rocks. He had never seen their shields flashing in such a way.
“Not many!” Isa warned. “Shields are at fifty percent and falling fast!”
“Keep your attack runs short!” Vol warned as he pitched down for a clear line and jumped to safety on the far side of the engagement area. His ship again flying smoothly, he shook off the surge of adrenalin. “That was not fun!”
“Agreed!” Isa replied.
“Can you divert all available power to the forward shields on the next run?”
“Yes, but be sure you jump before we get too close or a few of those slugs will find their way into our hull and ruin our day!”
“Reapers Five and Six, lay your shield busters in front of Heavy Two!” Robert ordered over comms. “They’re completely intact! Our missiles somehow missed them entirely!”
“Five copies.”
“Six copies,” Lieutenant Haddix added.
“Six, Five. I’ll drop two.”
“I’ll follow with another two,” the lieutenant replied.
“Prepping two,” Ensign Weston reported.
“I’m going to turn to port, jump ahead, then cut back and come across his bow, dropping from his port to starboard,” the lieutenant announced over comms.
“Sounds good,” the pilot of Reaper Five replied. “I’m going to come over the top, stern to bow, dropping as I dive through his flight path.”
“Watch for rail gun fire!” someone warned over comms. “The heavies have rail guns and ion cannons!”
Lieutenant Haddix pushed his Reaper into a left turn, then pressed his jump button, bringing the nose of his ship back hard right as soon as they came out of the jump. After a few seconds, he came out of his turn and headed back toward the target at a steep angle, nearly on an opposite heading. After a quick double-check of his intercept angles, he looked to his copilot. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The lieutenant tapped his jump button, finding themselves suddenly flying directly across the enemy ship’s flight path, less than two hundred meters from its bow as it charged toward them.
“Shit!” Ensign Weston exclaimed, not expecting to be that close to the enemy warship.
“Release and arm!” the lieutenant ordered.
“Releasing!” the ensign replied, pressing the button to eject the first two antimatter mines. “Arming!”
The ship rocked as energy weapons fire and rail gun slugs slammed into their shields.
“Mines are confirmed hot!” the ensign barked. “Get us the fuck out of here!”
Two mines tumbled through space as the Reaper that had just released them disappeared in a blue-white flash. A split second later, Reaper Five jumped in directly above the enemy warship’s midsection, quickly traversing the rest of the target’s length before diving down across his bow. As he dove, he too released a pair of antimatter mines, which tumbled downward, nearly colliding with the mines released by Reaper Six.
As Reaper Five jumped away, the first of the four mines made contact with the enemy warship’s forward shields, detonating in a blinding white flash of light, followed a split second later by three more antimatter detonations.
“Heavy Two’s forward shields are down!” Sergeant Latimer reported excitedly.
“I’ve got a good angle on Heavy Two,” Gil announced. “I’m changing targets.” He pushed his flight control stick hard right, and pitched down slightly, turning into the approaching warship. “Anyone who can hear me, target the bow of Heavy Two!”
Gil rolled out of his turn, adjusted his jump distance dial, then jumped ahead twenty kilometers to close the distance to the target more quickly. As soon as he came out of the jump, he pressed his firing button and held it down, sending waves of triplets into the unprotected bow of the approaching vessel.
Striker Two’s plasma torpedoes tore into the enemy warship’s bow, blowing open its nose and allowing the subsequent torpedoes to burrow deep within the target’s forward section, setting off multiple secondary explosions. As Striker Two pitched up and jumped away, the warship’s nose blew up, and the secondary explosions continued the length of the target, breaking it up completely.
“Alayna, you with me?” Tham asked as he came out of his jump.
“I’m with you,” she replied over comms.
“Target is dead ahead, three kilometers,” Gento reported from Shenza Three’s back seat. “His port, midship shields are down to twenty percent!”
“Alayna!” Tham called. “I’ll knock out his shields and you finish him off!”
“Let’s do it!” Alayna replied.
Tham adjusted his jump range to one kilometer. “Jumping forward one click!” he announced, pressing his jump button immediately afterward. The barely-distinguishable frigate suddenly filled his screen, and the Gunyoki pilot pressed and held down his firing button, sending both streams of plasma energy from his engine-mounted plasma cannons, as well as a hail of snub missiles into the enemy frigates struggling midship shields. The warship’s shields flashed brightly, with each impact failing altogether and allowing the last few missiles to reach its hull.
“She’s all yours, Alayna!” Tham announced triumphantly as he pitched up to find a clear jump line and pressed his jump button again.
“Let ‘em have it, Alayna!” Isanu yelled from Shenza Four’s ba
ck seat.
Alayna took a deep breath and held down her firing trigger, sending bolts of red-orange plasma and streams of snub missiles toward the unprotected black and crimson frigate. The first few impacts tore the outer hull open, allowing all subsequent blasts to burrow deeper and deeper into the warship, until they found something that reacted unkindly to such massive amounts of energy. The frigate blew apart from the center outward, splitting the ship in half and completely destroying its midsection, leaving only the fore and aft quarters of the ship intact and drifting harmlessly.
“Damn that felt good!” Alayna cheered as she pitched downward, passing directly under the expanding ball of gas and debris that was once the center section of the enemy frigate.
“I can get the port shields up if I funnel energy from the jump banks!” Lieutenant Tolan reported from the engineering station on the Amonday’s bridge.
“More fighters to port!” the sensor officer announced.
Commander Andreola glanced at the tactical display on the overhead, noting the location of all ships currently attacking them. “Helm, down forty and hard to starboard.”
“Down forty and hard to starboard,” the helmsman acknowledged as he pushed the control yoke forward and turned it to the right.
“Shall I power the shields, sir?” Lieutenant Tolan urged.
“How long until we can get our main reactor back up to full power?” the commander asked.
“Two minutes!” the lieutenant replied.
“Raise port shields, but do not let them drain our jump banks below fifty percent!”
“Yes, sir!” the lieutenant replied. “Raising port shields!”
“How long until we can jump?” the commander asked.
“Three minutes!” the lieutenant replied.
“Helmsman, plot an escape jump to the Rogen system.”
“Sir?” the helmsman asked, confused.
“Captain!” the lieutenant began to object.
“Our orders are to attack the Aurora!” the commander explained. “These ships are attempting to prevent us from doing so. Even if we survive this, we will still have to attack the Aurora or face execution! If we are to die this day, we shall die serving the goddamned empire so that our families will be honored.”