by Doug Farren
Scarboro rolled back under the covers. Even though he was very tired, sleep eluded him for another half an hour.
Five hours later, the soft chime of the com-panel sounded only twice. Forty-five minutes later, Scarboro appeared on the bridge carrying a breakfast burrito. Stiles met him at the coffee dispenser.
“There are 38 ships at Parggrish. Four cargoliners and a large contingent of smaller civilian vessels left about ten minutes ago packed with civilians, mostly women and children. They’re being escorted by three Shandarian battleships. The rest of the population is being ordered to take shelter as best they can. Seventeen additional warships are on the way and will be here in about four hours. Hundreds more are en route with various ETAs. Parggrish has no planetary defense systems.”
Scarboro poured himself a large cup of coffee and took a tentative sip while listening. With the remains of his burrito in one hand and his cup in the other, he headed for the command chair. “What’s our status?”
“Maintaining our distance as ordered. Coms received a message about an hour ago direct from Centralis reinforcing our previous orders. They were quite insistent that we are not to engage the battleship.”
Scarboro automatically scanned the bridge instruments as he sat down. He took another sip of coffee then said, “Well, you may as well get some sleep then. I guess I’ll sit here and command the most powerful scout ship in the galaxy.”
“You did point out to me that we are the only ship capable of keeping an eye on them,” Stiles pointed out.
“I know. And we’re just as vulnerable as any other ship in the fleet. I’ll see you in 12 hours.”
“Aye Sir.”
Scarboro jammed the burrito in his mouth and took a bite as he brought up the specs for Parggrish. He was hoping the battleship would try to avoid engaging a large fleet of ships but his intuition told him otherwise.
* * * * *
“We’re linked into their tactical network,” Petty Officer First Class Bill Owens announced from the com-station.
“Thank you,” Scarboro replied. His fingers performed a short dance over his keyboard. The large display at the front of the bridge split itself into six windows. On the left was a view of the bridge of one of the ships. To its immediate right were the critical tactical parameters associated with that ship. This arrangement allowed the crew to watch the action as it happened. Scarboro transferred one of the pairs of images to his own screen so he could get a closer look.
Tapping a key on his console, he said, “Captain Harth, good luck.”
The Rouldian captain kept her focus on her own tactical display. “Thank you Captain,” she replied.
The fleet spread out in a wide pattern putting themselves between the approaching battleship and the defenseless planet. Unperturbed by this show of force, the battleship closed in at a leisurely pace. Scarboro noted that it was actively scanning every meter of space.
“They’re looking for cloaked mines and battle stations,” Lieutenant Billings noted.
“His new weapons haven’t made him over-confident,” Scarboro replied. “He’s going to be a tough one to beat.”
At a distance of 145,000 kilometers, the Rouldian fleet suddenly began to accelerate, moving both towards the battleship as well as farther apart from each other. The battleship responded by altering its own course so as to keep the distance between the two opposing forces constant. Two seconds later, the Kyrra-built antimatter energy cannon opened fire. Its first target was a Rouldian heavy cruiser. The beam crashed through the shield and delivered a titanic amount of energy against a small point on the hull. The ship didn’t stand a chance.
2,480 terajoules per second is a staggering amount of energy. To put it into perspective, that same amount of energy is equivalent to a 593 kiloton explosion and can melt over 8 million tons of steel. A little over half of the weapon’s output was produced in the form of high energy gamma rays which greatly expanded the area over which the beam’s energy was deposited. The only way the Dragon managed to avoid certain destruction was because it had been hit by a glancing blow and the ship’s Kyrra shield had disrupted the beam’s FTL packets before they struck the hull. The heavy cruiser had no such shield and it was hit near dead center.
The cruiser’s hull exploded as if it had been hit by a nuclear warhead. The beam burrowed into the ship, heating the interior to temperatures approaching those that exist in the core of most stars. The more volatile substances such as air, water, and members of the crew were instantly transformed into superheated plasma. Six seconds after being struck, the ship tore itself apart as the interior pressure exceeded the hull’s design strength.
The beam winked out only to reappear a moment later. The process was repeated again and again with similar results. Ship after ship quickly fell victim to the unstoppable weapon.
Three minutes into the battle, 17 Alliance warships were glowing clouds of expanding debris. Scarboro was leaning forward in his chair, his fingers clamped hard on the arms and every muscle in his body straining against each other. Two of the three ships he selected to watch were gone; Harth’s battleship was the only one still transmitting. As he stared at the image of the bridge of her ship, Harth began issuing orders.
“All remaining ships, initiate auto attack,” she screamed out the order. “Initiate auto- - -”
The video feed from her ship abruptly ended. For a second, Scarboro thought it had been hit but the tactical data stream remained intact. He stared at the screen for a moment trying to figure out what was happening. Several of the numbers began to rapidly change and he suddenly realized what the Rouldian captain had done. He watched in disbelief and horror as the remaining ships began accelerating at well beyond maximum safe levels.
Even though Rouldians are from a high gravity planet, the forces being employed were far beyond what even their tough bodies could endure. There was no doubt in his mind that the crews of those ships had been crushed to death by the massive acceleration now being applied. He also understood why the video feed had been cut—the death of the bridge crew would have been a horrible scene to watch.
The sublight drives of modern warships are capable of generating tremendous forces. Normal acceleration forces are not felt by the crew because the drive fields are able to apply the thrust to the entire bulk of the starship and everything inside at the same time. Due to the complex interaction of the drive fields with normal space, this effect gradually diminished at higher and higher accelerations. The forces felt by the crew can be neutralized by the application of compensation fields, but only up to a certain point. Safety interlocks programmed into the ship’s computer prevent the drive from exceeding safe limits. These interlocks can be overridden but others prevented the drive from exceeding dangerous levels. Captain Harth must have ordered all the interlocks to be bypassed.
There was a brief lull in the loss of Alliance warships as the Chroniech tactical computer analyzed the new situation. Twenty-eight crewless ships, controlled only by their tactical computers, were now rapidly approaching. The extreme acceleration—over 320 gravities, almost 40 more than the ship could neutralize—forced the computer to dump its current collection of battle scenarios and develop new ones.
Even though the Alliance ships were currently out of range, every available weapon was firing and missiles were blasting out of the launch tubes as fast as the auto-loaders could position them for launch. The rapid acceleration and change in tactics caught the battleship off guard. The Kyrra energy cannon fell silent for almost eight seconds—an eternity in a fast-moving, computer controlled space battle. When it again opened fire it was joined by the ship’s other long-range weapons.
As the distance between the battleship and the remaining defenders continued to rapidly shrink, the guns of the Alliance ships began to have an effect on the Chroniech shield. At first, the effect was nothing more than a slight change in the shield’s reflectivity. This quickly changed until it became a torrent of energy cascading off the surface. The battles
hip’s point defense systems detected the flurry of incoming missiles and joined the fight. Bright pinpoints of light indicated where each missile was being engaged. These tiny specs of brilliance paled in comparison to the periodic deaths of more Alliance ships. Secondary explosions continued to illuminate the expanding debris of destroyed warships as power accumulators shorted out and missile warheads exploded.
The blaze of energy being reflected off the Chroniech shield quickly ramped down until it eventually vanished altogether. The battle was over. Scarboro released his iron grip on the arms of his chair and slumped back against the cushion. He was a seasoned combat veteran and had been in many battles, but this one had by far been the hardest on him. Instead of taking part in the battle, he was forced to remain at a safe distance. He felt as if he had somehow betrayed every single person who had just lost their lives. He also knew that his ordeal was not over. With the fleet destroyed, the planet it once protected would soon be under attack and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent what was about to happen.
As if sensing his discomfort, the battleship turned and headed straight for the Dragon.
“Enemy vessel is on an intercept course,” Lieutenant Billings said, breaking the silence that had settled over the bridge.
Scarboro was highly tempted to disobey his orders and attack the battleship but his logical mind knew his ship would suffer the same fate as all the others. Anger welled up inside him. He picked up his coffee cup and for an instant considered hurling it across the room. Instead, he held it in both hands and squeezed so hard he thought the cup might shatter.
“Maintain our distance,” he said through clenched teeth. “The bastard’s taunting us to see if we’ll engage him.”
“Aye Sir,” the helm quietly replied.
The battleship abandoned its mock chase after less than a minute then turned toward Parggrish. As it leisurely approached the planet, the Chroniech casually destroyed every piece of hardware in orbit. Weather satellites, communication relays, and space stations were all blasted. The ship settled into a low orbit then turned its weapons toward the surface and the population below.
Chapter 40
“Target that city!” Albrath pointed to a spot on one of the tactical displays. “Use the new weapon and send them to oblivion!”
The Captain was enjoying himself. His single ship had defeated 55 Alliance warships. There had been a moment of concern when the defenders had suddenly accelerated but it passed as the enemy was quickly dispatched. He tried to provoke the cursed Komodo Dragon into engaging him but after watching it back away from his advance, he turned his attention to the planet. Wiping out the inhabitants was going to be a joyful experience.
Varku silently watched from his own chair. While he too was enjoying the action, there were other thoughts going through his head. He was now a group commander in command of a single ship. With no fleet to command, his position was essentially no longer necessary. It was an odd circumstance and he was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. Taking command was out of the question and Albrath would rightly challenge him if he tried.
“Target locked,” Shagorath announced.
“Fire!” Albrath yelled, leaning forward in his chair, a look of pure joy in his eyes.
A strange glowing cloud, looking much like a sickly sun, appeared high above the city as radiation monitors on the surface went into alarm. Had anyone on the surface been foolish enough to look up, they would have been blinded by the intense radiation. The city, however, was mostly abandoned. The few who remained had taken shelter hoping to escape death. The cloud grew in size and shock waves of enormous power shook the empty buildings, blowing out windows and causing those in hiding to believe a powerful earthquake had struck.
“What happened?” Albrath asked, the moment the weapon ceased fire.
Shagorath turned to another bank of screens and surveyed the information being displayed there. “The atmosphere and the planet’s gravitational field appear to be disrupting the beam’s FTL field Captain. The matter and antimatter packets are combining high in the stratosphere, limiting the amount of damage on the surface.”
“So the weapon is useless against surface targets?” Albrath asked.
“Not necessarily,” Shagorath replied. “The beam generates a tremendous amount of radiation. While there’s little actual physical destruction, the radiation is high enough to provide a lethal dose over a wide area.”
“What about the matter converters? Won’t they suffer from the same problem?”
“I don’t know. Mashthuma’s the expert.”
“Computer,” the Captain said into the air. “Get me Masthuma.”
A moment later, the face of the chief engineer appeared on the screen. “Sir?”
“Have you been monitoring our new weapon?”
“I have. It looks- - -”
“Will the matter converters have the same problem?” Albrath interrupted.
“No,” Masthuma quickly replied. “Because the conversion only occurs at specific points along the beam’s path, I believe it will be able to penetrate deep into the atmosphere.”
“Very well,” Albrath replied, reaching over and terminating the connection. He was very relieved. He had no intention of orbiting the planet for days in order to eliminate the population city by city. “Shagorath, activate the matter converters!”
The helm rolled the ship so the bank of converters would be aimed toward the planet. Each converter was a large cone-shaped device. One of these had been removed and now supplied the antimatter needed to fuel the energy cannon. The rest had been welded to the battleship’s hull.
As soon as the ship completed the maneuver, Shagorath activated them. Each of the converters was phased slightly differently, causing the conversion nodes to appear at different locations along each beam. From the top of the stratosphere all the way down to ground level, matter was converted to antimatter. A column of unbelievable destruction over a thousand kilometers in diameter raced across the planet at 7.8 kilometers per second.
Everything in the path of that towering nuclear inferno was utterly destroyed. It was as if a giant celestial being was drawing a line across the planet with a cutting torch, leaving a ribbon of red-hot debris in its path. Torrential amounts of invisible lethal radiation bathed the area surrounding the path of destruction. Any living organism that wasn’t vaporized or burned dropped dead as their nervous system ceased to function because of the radiation. Those far enough away to survive the passing of the nuclear blowtorch would soon wish they had perished.
The radiation killed and also changed the very nature of the atmosphere, transforming nitrogen into carbon-14 and other elements into a cloud of photochemical smog. The destruction continued long after the battleship had passed overhead. Fires sparked by the heat of the passing beam were whipped into a frenzy by ferocious winds. A dark cloud of ash mixed with noxious fumes rose into the sky, darkening the sun.
The battleship spent a little over 20 hours orbiting the planet. Albrath remained on the bridge the entire time, reveling in the destruction he was causing. Varku watched for about an hour before retiring to his stateroom.
Albrath would have liked to remain longer but their long range sensors picked up the drive-wakes of an approaching fleet. Not wanting to be caught this deep in a gravitational field, he ordered the battleship to head back into deep space. The Komodo Dragon followed.
“Come along,” Albrath mocked the image of the Dragon as it trailed behind. “I will gladly let you witness the death of more of your people. Shagorath,” he said, getting up from the command chair. “Set course for the next target. Adjust our speed to put us there in 10 hours. I’ll be in my cabin. I’m going to sleep very well after the fun we just had.”
Chapter 41
Omel: The biological wizards of the Alliance. They originate from a low gravity, low light planet and are a very tall thin race, averaging just over two meters in height. Their lengthy arms terminate in six very long, slend
er, fragile looking fingers. Two large round eyes are set into their long thin head that also supports smallish ears and a thin nose. The Omel appear very much like a human that has been stretched from head to toe. The most prominent distinguishing feature of the Omel is their translucent skin that gives them a very red appearance.
Thousands of Terrans (both men and women) make the trip to Glish hoping to make a small fortune as a prostitute. More often than not, they return home empty-handed. It’s not because there are a large number of prostitutes already in business, it’s because Glish has no need for them. People of all species travel there to enjoy themselves and to put the harsh reality of life behind them for a brief period of time.
Glish was modeled after Las Vegas, an Earth city that lives up to its nickname—Sin City. But Glish has taken the idea of the ultimate place to party, to all new heights. If you want to gorge yourself on the most indulgent foods available and not gain any weight, there’s a way to do so. If you want to experience a mind-altering drug that’s banned on your planet, as long as it has no lasting effects and is non-addicting, it’s allowed on Glish. Looking for a cross-species sexual encounter? Come to Glish—others are looking for the same thing and the porn planet makes it easy for two or more such people to find each other.
Prostitutes quickly learn that trying to charge money for what is freely available is an impossible way to make a living. Glish does have a small number of highly successful people who charge for special services but they are very good at what they do and they tend to offer something that is generally unavailable.
There are very few rules on Glish, but those that do exist are strictly enforced. The safety of the guest is foremost. Security cameras are everywhere and are mandated by law to be installed in all public areas. These cameras are monitored by a live security force as well as a collection of AI computers looking for trouble. People come to Glish to enjoy themselves and the security forces are there to ensure that everybody has a good time. If someone gets a little too carried away, they are politely escorted to a comfortable room until they’ve recovered from whatever was causing them to misbehave. Repeat offenders are fined with increasingly higher amounts. Serious crimes will result in long jail terms and permanent banishment.