The Battle for Eden

by Mark E Burgess

  In a dogfight between closely matched opponents, the pursuer always has the advantage over the pursued. In the end it really was just a matter of time before the alien ship caught him in its sights. When it did, Simon’s day ended as quickly as it had started. It felt like a giant hand violently slammed him into his harness. A blinding flash, a deafening explosion—the sound of battle had reached him at last—and his controls went dead, the heads-up display flickering in and out of existence as he stared at it stunned. He was drifting powerless, an easy target.

  As he shook his head to clear it, he waited for the ax to fall...but it never came. Instead he saw the Knacker fighter blur past him as it accelerated off in the direction of the human destroyers. He sat there bemused, too shaken to celebrate being alive. A human adversary would have finished off his opponent, firing an extra salvo for insurance. But the Crabs were truly alien creatures. Once his ship was no longer an active threat, they completely ignored it. This behavior had been noted in prior skirmishes as well. Knackers seemingly considered it more efficient to focus their efforts on the human ships still fighting, even if it meant leaving combatants alive. Of course, there was also the darker explanation, that the aliens were loath to destroy a potential food item that they could pick up at their leisure later.

  Whatever the reason, Simon was still breathing, and he set about assessing his disabled ship’s status. His main engines were junk, not a spark of life left in their controls. Likewise for his plasma guns. The hit must have knocked out the main power relays from the reactor. He could see damage to his left delta wing, but it appeared to be superficial, no major structural loss. The explosion had kicked his ship into a slow roll, and as he looked out the bubble canopy, the glowing sphere of the planet Eden rose on his left, floated over his head, and dropped out of sight to his right, leaving the endless void of star-filled space above him before reappearing a moment later to repeat the cycle.

  The effect was dizzying and he dropped his eyes. As he scanned the instrument panel, a small green light caught his eye and he felt a stab of hope. Auxiliary power from the storage batteries appeared to be intact. This was insufficient to energize the weapons or main propulsion, but the batteries could fire the ship’s positioning thrusters, plus operate the sensors and com unit. He stabbed the controls that shifted power from main reactor to batteries, and let out a sigh of relief as the heads-up display reappeared. Next he hailed the Xerxes, then cursed when his helmet speaker returned nothing but silence. The antenna array must be fried. Ah well, there was nothing he could do about it. He’d best figure his options, if he wanted to live through this.

  He had dropped low toward the planet’s atmosphere during the dogfight, had even contemplated entering it at one point, as the human fighters had better handling characteristics in air than Knacker egg ships. Now his sensors told him that he was falling into Eden’s gravity well, slowly losing altitude as he was pulled inexorably toward the surface. He had no way of powering free of the planet, and no means of calling for rescue. That left only one option. If he was going down, then best to not do it as a flaming meteor.

  A frown of concentration knit his brows as he quickly worked calculations on the navicomputer. Yes, it was feasible—if he could avoid drawing the attention of the Crabs. The Avenger’s conformation would allow a non-powered glide to the ground. But first he had to counter the spin of his ship, and level it out for approach to the planet’s outer atmosphere. He hit the starboard vertical thrusters once, twice, and then lightly a third time, and brought the ship to a standstill. The planet was now steady under him, while the battle raged on above. The ship was aimed slightly nose-down toward Eden, and another judicious nudge of the thrusters pushed it forward. He nodded with satisfaction as he checked his sensors; at his increased rate of fall he would soon enter the thin outer reaches of the atmosphere. After that it was all downhill, so to speak.

  Until then Simon had time on his hands, and he used it to check on the course of the battle playing out far above his canopy. His sensors painted a dreary picture. The humans had put up a good fight, in particular the newer fighters, but they were badly outnumbered. The Knackers were an ancient space-faring race, and over the course of millennia had plundered countless planets for materials to build their armada. They could attack anywhere, and often hit several star systems simultaneously. SpaceForce was spread too thin trying to defend the Federation.

  Optimists argued that humanity appeared to be the younger, more vigorous, and more innovative species at this stage in their evolution. Whether this proved correct or not, the numbers currently favored the aliens, and true to form, the smaller human force over Eden was slowly being decimated. The defenders were down to about two squadrons of fighters, and the enemy had at least twice that many still in action. Two human destroyers were flaming ruins, one had disappeared altogether—hopefully into hyperspace—and the remaining three were fighting for their lives. It looked like two Knacker destroyers had also been damaged badly enough to render them ineffective, but that left eight ships still waging war on the human fleet. Simon cursed vehemently, beating his fists on his thighs in frustration at his impotence. The outlook was grave, and he could do absolutely nothing to help.

  As he looked on, all three of the remaining human destroyers fired simultaneously on one of the Knacker ships. The combined energy impacts sheared a deep glowing gash into the starboard side of the alien vessel. Nothing vital was hit, however, and the ship returned fire, scoring direct hits with two plasma salvos on the lead human destroyer. Simon thought that it was the Xerxes, and he cringed as he saw flame gout from the stricken ship. It began to list sideways and its weapons went silent.

  Simon hung his head, unable to watch further. A few moments later he yanked it up again as the onboard display flashed an alarm for local hyperspace activity. Something was coming out of warp very near the battle zone.

  What eventually emerged into normal space was so large, and so unfamiliar, that at first Simon thought it must be an alien construct. To his surprise the ID tag on the heads-up display identified it as human: “SFS Titan, Lamprey Class super-dreadnaught.”

  Simon sat back and shook his head in wonder. A Lamprey! Those were still in development, had been for over five years! This must be one of the first to see service. No wonder it had been late to the fight; there could not be enough of them to cover all the Federation planets. This ship must have responded to an urgent summons. Just how fast did that thing move in hyperspace?

  He stared in awe as the interloper moved closer and its dimensions became fully evident. Simon knew the ship’s basic specs, had read them in SpaceForce briefs. The Lamprey was over a half-kilometer in length, long and slender, a flattened cylinder capped at the front by a bulbous knob resembling the head of some primitive life form. Simon had heard that the class designation derived from a legendary sea creature, which the ship’s conformation vaguely resembled.

  Its imposing size notwithstanding, the Lamprey represented a major advance in human weapons technology. Besides heavy plasma energy guns to fore and aft, and lateral weapons nearly as powerful, the super-dreadnaught possessed a single main gun unlike anything that humans—and hopefully Knackers—had ever seen. Ironically it was based on very old technology, something which predated even humanity’s journey to the stars.

  At the Lamprey’s core, and running nearly the entire length of the ship, was a huge modified rail gun. It was so named because the ancient models had utilized long metal rails along which a solid projectile would slide, driven along the shafts by magnetic fields and ejected at tremendous velocities. The technology had been appealing from the start. It was simple in design, required only a cylindrical metal slug as ammunition, and could deliver as much impact as missile warheads at a fraction of the cost. The striking power came from the muzzle velocities the guns achieved; with that much kinetic force delivered on target, no other explosive was needed.

  The problem with the original designs, which had led to humans aband
oning them as primary weapons, was that the projectiles moving at extreme speed created unacceptable heat and wear in the guns, which rapidly broke down the rail components. Small versions had been deployed on naval warships, and these had performed adequately if used lightly, but the problems had worsened exponentially as larger models were attempted. Only now, with advances in materials science and energy manipulation, could a gun be built that enhanced the known strengths of rail guns and avoided their weaknesses.

  The new weapon was based on the general design and principles of the originals, but with one important difference. Instead of metal rails, this gun utilized dense force screens which under certain conditions could be made to behave like solid matter. Magnetic fields could be propagated down their length, and the projectile slid along the energy “rails” with virtually no friction or wear. Round after round could be fired without overheating the gun.

  The electromagnetic fields generated by the weapon used prodigious amounts of power, and no less than five fusion reactors were dedicated to powering the gun and the inertial dampeners arrayed along its length. Basic physics states that every action produces an equal and opposite reaction; without dampeners, the weapon’s recoil would kick the entire ship backward nearly a quarter kilometer with each discharge, or more realistically, the gun would probably be blown out the back of the Lamprey’s hull.

  As the entire super-dreadnaught was essentially a housing for the rail weapon, the ship had to aim directly at its target in order to fire. Simon watched with intent interest as the Lamprey approached to within about ten kilometers of the alien destroyers. The surviving human ships had redoubled their attack on seeing help arrive, but the Knackers found time to begin throwing energy beams at the newcomer. Then the dreadnaught fired back.

  The main gun’s ammunition was a cylindrical, 100-kilogram slug of depleted uranium alloyed with titanium. This material possessed a density nearly seventy percent greater than lead. The round was further strengthened with an outer sheath of pure tungsten. The gun accelerated this projectile to a muzzle exit velocity of 223 kilometers per second, or over 800,000 kilometers per hour. The round traversed the ten kilometers to its target in less than 0.05 seconds.

  The kinetic force that the slug delivered to the Knacker destroyer on impact approached 2.5 million megajoules. This was equal to the energy released in the detonation of a 0.5 kiloton bomb. The alien vessel was armored with nearly three meters’ thickness of high-density refractory materials in multiple sandwiched layers, designed to reflect or diffuse high levels of incoming energy. However, the Knackers had relied on energy beam weapons for much of their history, and had tailored their defensive armament to protect against same. Sophisticated as it was, the destroyer’s hull was not designed to handle this type of assault. The rail gun round punched through the alien ship as if it were tissue paper.

  The slug’s tungsten sheath disintegrated on impact, exposing its heavy metal core. Depleted uranium has singular properties when subjected to extreme heat and kinetic forces. It instantly pulverizes and explodes outward in a cloud of fine particles. In these conditions the metal is also pyrophoric, meaning the dust cloud ignites into an intense fireball within microseconds.

  In real time, the Lamprey fired, and a faint blue aura lanced 100 meters out from the bow of the ship, as the exiting projectile dragged the gun’s energy fields with it into space. Simultaneously the front of one of the Knacker destroyers flared brilliant white, and then the entire ship...expanded...an instant before the hull split open like a cracked egg. Fire jetted from every orifice of the dying ship. The kinetic energy of the round, which continued on in the same direction as the original impact, exploded out the destroyer’s stern, blowing the rear quarter of the ship off into space. The entire event took less than two seconds.

  Simon sat stunned for a moment. Then he raised his arms high and shouted, “Yaa-hoo! That’s how we cook Crabs! Get ’em, boys!” As he spoke, the Lamprey was already turning to target a second alien ship. Another blue flicker, and another destroyer became so much salvage material. A third vessel had joined its comrades in their death throes before the aliens had time to react.

  Almost as one, the remaining Knacker destroyers accelerated out of the firing path of this new threat. Then they wheeled and bore down on their attacker. The dreadnaught turned ponderously to track the enemy, but the alien ships were smaller and quicker. As a group they closed with the Lamprey and began unleashing their main energy weapons into its flanks.

  The dreadnaught had considerable firepower even in its lateral plasma guns, and bright beams lanced out along its length as the humans found targets. But it was no match for five destroyers at close range, and structural debris sprayed off the ship as the enemy weapons bit glowing chunks out of its hull. In a few moments the Lamprey turned away towards deep space and began to run. The alien vessels followed on its heels like a pack of wolves hounding their prey. Simon saw the remaining human destroyers begin moving to come to the aid of their beleaguered comrade.

  Abruptly his own fighter began to buffet and shake around him, and reluctantly he tore his gaze from the drama playing out in space above. A scan of his instruments confirmed that his ship had reached the outer limits of Eden’s atmosphere. He had to ensure that his approach angle was proper. If he came in too steep, he ran the risk of burning up on reentry.

  Once he was satisfied that he had it right, he looked up again, but the sky was hazing over with atmospheric molecules, and friction had started to glow his hull. The battle scene above faded from view until he could see nothing.

  With a sigh Simon leaned back in his flight seat for the long ride down to the surface. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the adrenaline slowly bleed from his system. He had lived to see another day. Whether he lived to regret it was a different question.

  Chapter Two

  Sarah McKinley saw the bright streak dropping from the sky as she stood in the half-acre crop field of her rural homestead. She straightened her back, groaning as the stiff muscles protested, and pushed a lock of damp brown hair out of her eyes while she squinted up into the bright afternoon sun. Twenty years old, dressed in simple blue fabric shirt and work pants, a long handled garden shovel in her right hand, she would have looked perfectly at home on a Midwestern farm on Old Earth. Never mind that this was Eden, located in a solar system unfathomable distances from humanity’s roots, and thousands of years removed from those days of yore. As much as things had changed over the course of human history, even more had remained the same.

  A frown of worry creased her brow as the object descended. It was headed in this general direction, and in only moments the glowing speck had materialized into a solid object which was enlarging rapidly. It was still high up, and moving much faster than the planetary shuttles she had seen, and that was what worried her. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was looking at a spacecraft, and if so, it could mean trouble. Specifically, Knackers!

  As that thought sunk in, she dropped the shovel and sprinted for the house several hundred meters away. Sarah had inherited her dad’s foot speed, and her graceful stride ate up the distance quickly. As she ran she thought of calling out for her father, but then remembered he had taken her brothers to town to shop for supplies. Her mother, her Aunt Katie, and Kate’s daughter Jessie were out for the afternoon as well. Sarah was completely on her own.

  She reached the house and darted into the front entrance, returning outside quickly with a farseeing scope. She dialed it to low mag, located the ship in the viewfinder, and increased the power to bring the still-distant image closer. Panting from her run, she struggled to steady the jiggling scope, scanning the interloper’s conformation anxiously. After a moment she relaxed and lowered her hands. With a sigh of relief, she muttered to herself, “It’s not a Knacker. Shape is all wrong.”

  Her papa had survived a Crab invasion on another planet, so he had taught Sarah just about all there was to know about the aliens to date. Even if he hadn’t, the governmen
t on Eden made sure that everyone was educated in the basics of survival. That included recognition of friendly versus enemy craft, from space landers to fighters to ground transports. The entire planet was now on a state of alert with news of an impending invasion. So far the reports from SpaceForce were spotty, but latest word had it that at least some of the Knacker invaders would likely make it through to the planet. That was one reason her family was stocking up on supplies at this very moment.

  Sarah raised the scope again and examined the object in the sky. Knacker, no, but it did appear to be a spacecraft. Now that her fear had retreated, curiosity kicked in, and her eager eyes took in every detail that the scope could provide. The unknown vessel was spewing a dark contrail that became more evident as it approached. She frowned; the ship might be in trouble. She didn’t think it should be producing smoke like that.

  It appeared that the craft would pass to the west of her home, and it was losing altitude quickly. But as it neared, it seemed to be slowing, its nose coming up and its descent leveling out. Sarah could now see it quite clearly without the scope, a sleek tapered shape that gleamed metallic in the sun. Not large, maybe twice the size of a private floater. A faint rushing sound came to her ears as the ship passed within a quarter kilometer of where she stood. There was no growl of engines at all, which she thought was odd. All flying craft made noise, didn’t they?

  The vessel seemed to be heading straight for a low prominence just to their south. “They’d better watch it or they won’t clear Roxy Knoll,” Sarah whispered under her breath. She bit her lip as the ship dropped, dropped, and it seemed destined to plow into the side of the hill. But it pulled up slightly at the last second, and clipped off the tips of two Ironwood trees before disappearing over the top of the rise.

  Moments later a distant rumbling came to her ears, and it continued for a handful of seconds before falling silent. Sarah stood staring numbly at the point where the ship had vanished from her sight. That noise had sounded like a crash. From what she had seen, the craft hadn’t looked like it was intended to land on the ground. In that case the pilot might have tried a controlled slide, assuming a patch of flat earth could be found. And there was plenty of that around, including on the other side of Roxy. The acreage there was still on the homestead property, just barely.