by Mike Smith
Stepping out onto the bridge he acknowledged the salute of the crew, who had quickly reverted back to formal Imperial Navy etiquette. Every station was manned, every system checked and double-checked. The ship was as ready as she would ever be. Taking his seat in the Captain’s chair, Paul wondered if this was how it had been the last time the ship had gone into combat. Remembering the terrifying outcome of that engagement Paul considered for a moment if the ship was cursed. Yet during the short time he had been aboard he had come to appreciate the ship. The power that seemed to surge throughout it gave him a sense of confidence that together they would get through this in one piece.
“Systems check, people.” He called out to the crew. One-by-one, each of the bridge crew acknowledged all systems were green and, for the first time in many years, the ship was at full combat readiness. “Very well,” he acknowledged. “Start the countdown.”
Tapping the control in his armrest to activate the ship’s internal broadcast system he announced. “This is the Captain, we have started the count-down to jump to Tartarus. All crew should now report to assigned stations and prepare for extreme unpleasantness,” he announced with upturned lips. He would never admit it, but he had missed this. While overseeing Vanguard and the day-to-day operations on-board Terra Nova he had missed the rush of commanding such a ship, and a fine ship she was. Paul could not remember in all his years of service commanding such a beautiful one. “It’s time to go and bring them home,” Paul said, softly stroking the armrest of his chair. “To bring everybody home,” he added remembered the purpose of the mission. “Helm,” he called out. “Are the FTL engines powered up and ready?”
“Standing by.”
“Tactical?”
“All weapons armed and ready, Captain.”
As Paul watched the countdown reach zero he softly ordered, “Then let’s go.” The ship’s powerful faster-than-light engines came to life jumping the ship into the heart of the Sigma Draconis system, and to Tartarus.
*****
A few kilometres off the starboard side of the massive Titan defence station, Leviathan, a wormhole appeared. Initially so microscopic in size that it was invisible to the naked eye, but rapidly grew in size until, from the very heart of it, the Sunfire appeared, travelling at high velocity directly towards the station.
Like many systems throughout the Confederation, Sigma Draconis had been seeded with gravimetric distortion sensors. These incredibly sensitive satellites could detect the tiniest variation in the surrounding gravity field, any fluctuation of which could indicate the forming of an incoming wormhole and possibly a hostile ship. Their purpose was to give the defenders ample warning of any approaching ships. The sensors worked perfectly well, immediately informing the technicians monitoring them of an incoming wormhole. However, such wormholes were meant to form far out, in deep space, a vast distance away from Tartarus, as jumping close to the planet was inherently dangerous. The massive gravity field of the planet was dangerous to any forming wormholes and the ships that they transported.
Hence by the time that the sensors had detected the forming wormhole and technicians had time to investigate, it was far too late.
The Sunfire was already within range of the station.
*****
“Helm, position?” Paul called out, watching his own console as data started to flood his screen on the re-entry of the ship to normal space.
“Right on target, Captain,” came the prompt response.
“Ops?”
“All electronic warfare systems are now fully active. We are jamming all enemy communications and targeting systems.” Which meant they would not be able to call for reinforcements. Which was not to say that very soon everybody would know the Sunfire was there, but it would help spread confusion and panic between the three orbiting defence stations.
“Tactical?”
“Weapons are all ready, awaiting your command.”
“Very well, helm distance to the first station?”
“Five thousand meters and closing rapidly Captain.” Which in astronomical terms put them practically in each other’s laps.
“Very well, hard to port,” Paul ordered. “Let’s show them our starboard side.” Like most warships dating back to the first sailing vessels, the concentration of their firepower ran along the length of the ship. Only by turning side-on to the target could they deliver the bulk of their firepower.
“Hard to port, aye-aye Captain.”
“Tactical?”
“Captain?”
“The order is given. Fire.”
The tactical Officer did not need to be told twice.
*****
There had been significant discussion on Terra Nova between the senior staff about how the Sunfire should engage the stations. None of the crew felt particularly comfortable about participating in an unannounced, surprise attack. Hence there had been considerable discussion about offering them the opportunity to surrender or, at the very least, to remain neutral and allow the Sunfire to proceed untouched. However, after hours of fruitless discussion it was finally acknowledged those were not viable options. The crew only had one advantage and that was surprise. In every other category the balance of power was firmly with the defenders. Hence the plan finally agreed upon was simplistic in its planning and overwhelmingly destructive in its execution.
Consequently there would be no advanced warning. No announcement. No prior contact. The plan was simply to jump into the system as close to the first station as possible and disable it quickly, before moving onto the next two. The plan simply relied upon the element of surprise and the fact nobody would be crazy enough to actually attack them. It would give them no time to prepare, no time to regroup.
Hence, at almost point-blank range to the station, with the defenders caught completely unaware, the initial barrage was ferocious. The entire starboard length of the Sunfire momentarily vanished in blinding white light, as almost simultaneously every weapon on that side of the ship opened fire in one almighty barrage. Particle beams, missiles, rail guns, pulse cannons, everything was let loose within the space of a few milliseconds. The intervening space between the Sunfire and the Titan defence station was torn apart at the molecular level. It was as if the ship had physically reached out and taken a bite out of the station.
Armour, missile batteries, guns, sensors, equipment, bulkheads, corridors and compartments were vaporised in the ensuring storm of weapons’ fire. The storm did not abate, but instead the fearsome maelstrom simply grew in intensity and continued to tear apart everything in its path.
“Primary targets are all now destroyed, Captain,” the tactical Officer called out. “Now targeting secondary gun emplacements.”
“This looks like the entrance to a flight deck,” Paul observed, highlighting a particular section of the station that was just coming into view. “It’s possible these stations have their own complement of fighters and bombers. Take it out.”
A pair of heavy rail-guns on the prow of the ship orientated to lock onto the new target and, pausing for a moment, as if to take a breath, suddenly renewed their fire. The massive shells of super-dense alloy, possessing no explosive charge but travelling at almost two thousand meters per second, in a vacuum where there was no friction to slow them down, tore into the side of the station. They shredded the entrance to the docking bay and immediately neutralised the energy barrier maintaining the atmosphere on the flight deck. It was a miracle none of the rounds actually landed on the deck, as it was currently laden with volatile ships, ammunition and fuel stores.
While none of the rail-guns hit the flight deck, the same could not be said for the barrage of missiles that were only seconds behind. The flight deck was immediately vaporised as the missiles detonated and exploded ships, fuel and ammunition. The explosion was so massive that it tore a further chunk out of the station, exploding out of the docking bay like an erupting volcano.
Meanwhile, aboard the Sunfire, the ship started to shudder as the station�
��s few remaining weapon systems finally started to power up and open fire on the warship that had just practically annihilated the massive space station.
“We are starting to take fire,” The Officer from operations called out. “Looks like small to medium calibre rail-gun and pulse cannon fire. Looks like we missed a couple of their gun emplacements on the first pass.”
“Find them and pass a targeting solution to tactical,” Paul ordered briskly, before turning back to the helm Officer. “Rotate the ship along the length of our axis,” he ordered. “Let’s make it harder for them to target us.”
Slowly, like a corkscrew, the Sunfire started to rotate along its length and one-by-one the starboard gun batteries fell silent, their ammunition magazines mostly spent anyway. However, just as the starboard guns stopped firing, the port weapons now orientated towards the station resumed the hellfire all over again. This time targeting the station’s few remaining guns that had not already been destroyed.
“All secondary targets destroyed Captain,” the weapons Officer reported.
“Good job,” Paul replied, before turning back to the operations Officer. “Are you detecting any further emissions?”
“No Captain, she looks dead in space. I am not detecting any targeting scanners, or communications from the station.”
“Very well,” Paul replied. “Helm, lay in a course for the next station, flank speed. One down, two more to go.” He called out, as the ship’s bow swung around to face the next station that was just becoming visible rising above the horizon.
The Sunfire moved to intercept, leaving nothing but a lifeless empty shell of a station behind.
*****
“Helm,” Paul inquired. “How long until we intercept the next station?”
“If we continue on this heading, at this velocity, a little under twenty minutes Captain.”
“Very well then, let’s put the time to good use. Tactical, load the orbital bombardment rounds. I think that it’s time we wake up everybody down there.”
Part of the treasure trove of intelligence from the old Imperial Navy scans of Tartarus identified several above ground facilities surrounding the main corporate complex. While lacking detailed intelligence on these structures, the navy analysts had tentatively identified several of them as ground-based weapons emplacements. While none of them posed a direct threat to the Sunfire, they would be extremely problematic when Jon and his team had to extract themselves from the planet via shuttle. Hence it had been decided during the planning stage that the Sunfire would neutralise these structures upon arrival. As these emplacements were fixed they were ideal targets for the highly specialised space-to-ground ammunition aboard the Sunfire. Similar to the larger rail-gun rounds these were made of a dense alloy to protect them during re-entry, but were specially shaped to allow them to fly better through a planet’s atmosphere. Travelling at many times the speed of sound, by the time they reached the planet’s surface they would be lethal to any fixed targets.
“Orbital bombardments rounds loaded and ready, Captain,” the tactical Officer confirmed.
“Pass me the targeting data for my review.”
“Done.”
Paul brought up the targeting data on his console and quickly reviewed it. The bombardment rounds were accurate to within a dozen meters, highly accurate considering that the ship was currently in a high level orbit, approximately four thousand kilometres away. Paul quickly approved the targeting plan, ensuring there was nothing targeted within one hundred meters of the main complex. As an added bonus he prioritised the targets furthest away first, the barrage should result in a shockwave that would certainly shake up everybody on the planet. Hopefully it would buy Jon and his team some additional time, with all the residents in a state of near-panic.
“Approved. Fire at will,” Paul ordered.
On the starboard side of the Sunfire, the armour plating and hull started to slowly retract, as if it were a flower slowly opening its petals for the first time. However, this was no thing of beauty, as once the section of hull was fully retracted the massive orbital bombardment guns slid out into their fully deployed firing position, before angling themselves to target the Tyrell Corporation complex just becoming visible on the far horizon of the planet. Once the ship’s firing computer had confirmed the trajectory, the massive guns commenced their firing sequence, launching their deadly payload towards the planet below, first one, then another until in total the ship had released all thirty shells. After they had ceased firing, the massive guns began to retract back inside the ship and the hull closed around them.
Meanwhile the bombardment rounds started to fall into the planet’s thick atmosphere, quickly heating up to more than one-thousand, six-hundred degrees Celsius. From a distance they looked like a group of shooting stars, but these did not bring luck, only death and destruction, which was quickly realised when several minutes later they impacted on their intended targets. With the huge amount of kinetic energy they had accumulated falling through the thick atmosphere, they hit with the force of several hundred tonnes of TNT. Within the blink of an eye these external structures were obliterated, one-by-one.
Once the dust had settled, only one structure still remained standing, the bombardment round having fallen short by several yards. As this structure held the facilities fusion reactor it was indeed fortunate that this round had missed—as otherwise everybody’s day would have been ruined.
*****
Satisfied with the results of the orbital bombardment, Paul turned back to the helm and was just about to inquire as to the remaining distance to the second station when the operations Officer called out.
“Missiles. I am detecting multiple missile launches from the Titan station directly ahead.”
Paul shrugged. It was not as if they could expect to enjoy the element of surprise a second time. By now Paul realised everybody in the vicinity of the planet, if not the entire system, must realise they were there.
“Do we have a lock on that missile battery?” Paul inquired.
“Yes Captain.”
“Tactical, are we within range for the particle cannons?”
“Sixty more seconds Captain, but the forward missile battery is now within range.”
Paul shook his head. “No point wasting them. That monstrosity ahead has twice the number of point defence guns we have. No way would any of our missiles get through, so we will save them for when we can make them count. Operations anything you can do about those missiles?”
“We are jamming their targeting scanners,” the Officer replied.
Already Paul could see a number of the missiles starting to veer off course, but not all of them. “What is the status of our point defence guns?”
“Locked and loaded.”
“Very well, if that is the case, then pass automatic fire control of the guns to the ship’s computer. Weapons free,” Paul insisted, not particularly worried about the approaching missiles, as the ship was more than capable of defending itself against them. The bigger threat was going to come from the station’s heavy guns, as they had no defence against those.
“Firing now,” the Tactical Officer called, as the smaller point defence guns spun up to speed, targeting the incoming missiles. These guns were fully under the control of the ship’s computer, because with the combined velocity of the approaching missiles and the Sunfire no human controller could ever hope to complete the necessary targeting calculations in time. However the ship’s computer took milliseconds to calculate approach velocity, pitch and yaw and, with a sudden start, first one, then another, then all the guns on the ship’s prow opened fire. Within the space of a couple of seconds the approaching missiles were torn apart.
“Missiles neutralised Captain.”
“Very well, are we now within range of the particle cannons?”
“Yes Captain, just about.”
“Then target that missile battery and eliminate it before it has a chance to reload. We don’t have unlimited ammunition for t
hose guns and we will need to make every last shot count before this is over.”
One of the two particle beam cannons located on the front of the ship turned to face the Titan station still several kilometres away. It was a massive directed-energy beam weapon that used a highly concentrated beam of subatomic particles with negligible mass. It accelerated these charged photons to near-light speed, targeting the distant missile battery. As they travelled at such speed it took only a fraction of a second for the beam to cover the distance. The weapon delivered the particles onto the surface of the missile battery, conveying tremendous kinetic energy in the process, inducing near instantaneous and catastrophic overheating.
The missile battery, already in the process of automatically reloading, had a number of highly volatile missiles aboard and these immediately detonated. The explosion caused a cartwheeling effect of subsequent explosions, igniting the store of missiles still waiting to be loaded. The explosion was clearly visible from the Sunfire, still several kilometres away.
“Scratch one missile battery,” Paul commented out loud. However, in the next instant the ship pitched hard to port as the lights and consoles flickered momentarily. “Damage report!” Paul demanded.
“We’ve lost one of the particle cannons on the bow. Looks like we took a lucky hit from one of the station’s heavy rail guns just coming into range,” the Operations Officer groaned.
“I’m not sure if I would call it lucky,” Paul responded with a frown. Heading towards the second station, with the bow of the ship pointed directly at it, the Sunfire was at her most vulnerable. That was the reason for the particle cannons to be situated on the bow. It was the ship’s most powerful weapon and capable of firing in all directions, except for aft, but that area was covered by the ship’s rear guns and missile batteries. With one of their particle cannons destroyed, they had lost almost fifty per cent of their forward offensive capability and they were still a significant distance from the second station. “Use the remaining particle cannon to target and destroy those guns,” Paul ordered.