Battle of Sol

by Lee Guo

  Now, he turned his attention on the enemy destroyer waves. He counted them. There were 30 destroyers in total outside the wormhole exit, and they were all shooting at the remainder of his mines. And they were all unharmed.

  Damn, my mines are almost all gone.

  And it’s all because I ignored the enemy’s destroyers!

  “All units,” said Yamato into the command line, “fire on the enemy destroyers immediately. Their armor should be weak, so we should be able to take them down faster.”

  While waiting for the responses, it occurred to Yamato that he had forgotten to use his missile dumps to take out the enemy’s destroyers while his stationary units were firing on the enemy’s minesweeper dreadnoughts. He shook his head in disgust. Now, the enemy destroyers had been given a great opportunity to take down more of his mines.

  So should I use my missiles, now?

  He thought about it, and he came up with an answer.

  No. We should be able to take down those minesweeping destroyers quickly with what we have, without using up my missile reserves. As I recall, those destroyers can’t even take a single strike from a pulsar gun without being crippled. The armor on those destroyers are weak, not like those dreadnoughts.

  While thinking about that, a thought befell him that he had fallen right into the enemy’s plan. The enemy’s plan… must have been to force Yamato to concentrate his firepower on the enemy’s maxed-armored dreadnoughts — while the enemy’s destroyers did most of the work! That must have been why the enemy sent out their dreadnoughts first to soak up the damage and then sent their destroyers afterwards to take out Yamato’s mines.

  But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense for Yamato to have done exactly what had happened in reality. If… he had attacked the enemy’s destroyers while they came out, the enemy’s dreadnoughts would have taken out more or less the same amount of Yamato’s mines. Or would they? That was debatable.

  To Yamato, it was a lose-lose situation. Either way, he would have lost an extremely large amount of mines.

  But — Yamato bit his lips — it wasn’t a lose-lose situation if he had used his missiles on the enemy’s destroyers while his stationary units fired on the dreadnoughts! Ah, what a mistake! He shook his head in disgust. It was too late, and now Yamato wondered how the universe might have unfolded had he not made that mistake. And how it would unfold now that he had.

  Who knew? That one mistake might have been game changing.

  **

  Once the enemy’s minesweeper dreadnoughts were neutralized, the human forces in the system turned their combined firepower on the enemy’s destroyers. Every human stationary turret, fortress, and ship fired from every direction.

  The human star fortress named Centauri’s Sorrow fired its monstrous maxed-out pulsar guns twice per second. The massive gamma-ray beam slammed into an enemy destroyer, which was more than enough to obliterate the destroyer’s weak armor. The beam’s sheer release of energy caused the enemy vessel to explode in a white hot flash. No power core detonation was necessary.

  The other human star fortress named Helvon’s Vengeance also fired its 100 fortress-sized plasma cannons along with its dual pulsar guns. The massive barrage of plasma bolts sliced into one enemy destroyer, burning and fragmenting its weak armor until there nothing standing in the way between it… and the next volley of plasma bolts that cratered the destroyer’s innards as well as obliterated its power relays and command data-links. The destroyer stopped moving and lost all control of its ship functions. It was neutralized.

  The same thing happened all around the wormhole exit. Pulsar beams fired from human Pulsar-class battlecruisers wiped out the remaining enemy destroyer contingents. Sometimes, all it took was one shot. Other times, several.

  The other capital ships within the human fleet also helped bring the enemy destroyers down. Plasma dart strikes from human Artemis-class battlecruisers and Warhammer-class superdreadnoughts overwhelmed enemy destroyers with their sheer imbalance of firepower.

  Thus, throughout the battlefield, destroyers exploded to the human onslaught. These small ships’ armor were never made to withstand such a concentrated attack from human capital ships and greater.

  And… within minutes, there were no Argonan destroyers left.

  But — as weak as these little ships were, they — combined with the enemy’s minesweeper dreadnoughts — had accomplished their objective in a dazzling fashion. Human mine concentrations had diminished to 3% saturation, never to rise again to impede the next stage of the enemy’s attack through the wormhole exit…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, above the wormhole exit, Sol

  1 minute later…

  Silence.

  There was a mysterious silence.

  That was all he could describe about what happened next.

  Yamato sat in his command chair, eyeing the holomap, and felt an eerie premonition when he saw the lack of enemy activity at the wormhole exit. The enemy had simply stopped sending things through. Were there hostile objects making transit through the wormhole, due to come out? What was happening on the enemy’s end in Alpha Centauri? For that matter, what was happening inside the wormhole?

  Boy, I wish I could see what was happening on the other side, or even what was happening inside.

  An idea hit Yamato. He did have enough sensor probes to peek into the wormhole. It was time he used it. This sudden break in enemy activity was making him nervous.

  “Sensor probe group A,” he said into the command link, “advance into the wormhole and collect data on what’s coming through.”

  On the holomap, he watched as one hundred friendly sensor probes moved into the wormhole opening. Immediately, a firefight began inside the wormhole as human sensor probes met enemy war probes. He was amazed, for within seconds, all the sensor probes he sent in were destroyed. What little information he obtained was not enough to tell him anything.

  According to the reports from probe group A, there was something coming from the other end — however, what size or mass was completely unknown. The wormhole’s natural electromagnetic interference had interfered with whatever slight glimpse his sensor probes had seen before they died.

  At least, he knew something was coming out. How big it was, what it looked like, how fast it was moving, he didn’t know.

  Yamato leaned back in his seat. Now, all he could do was wait. It was time for the enemy’s third or fourth phase of attack — when the enemy would send their capital ships and k-ships out. The question was… would they send their k-ships first or after their capital ships? Or together? The wormhole opening to Sol was only so big.

  After all, what else was there?

  An anxious feeling shot up his spine like a flash of lightning. That feeling was combined with a sense of dread. The reason was this… During the second phase of the enemy’s attack, when he had expected them to send out loads and loads of minesweeping destroyers ‒ and only destroyers ‒ instead the enemy had surprised Yamato with a new form of minesweeping dreadnought.

  What if… what if… he bit his lips. What if the enemy had a new surprise for Yamato in their third and fourth phases? What new surprise could the enemy be hiding, waiting to unleash on all the human forces in system?

  He shook his head in desperation and disappointment. This was all happening to him because he could not see what the enemy had on their side of the wormhole, nor could he even see clearly what the enemy had that was traversing through the wormhole at this moment.

  What was even more dreadful was the fact that the enemy’s surprises in their second phase had, in all ways of objectively viewing it, succeeded in accomplishing what the second phase was meant to do — which was to get rid of all the mines surrounding the wormhole exit to Sol. Yamato’s mine saturation had fallen to three percent. If the enemy was successful with their surprise minesweeper dreadnoughts in the second phase, and if the enemy had some surprises left for their third and fourth phases, what could
he do to counter such surprises? What if the enemy’s surprises for the final phases were also that successful?

  All these thoughts wracked Yamato’s nerves. The possibility that the enemy knew exactly what to do and had exactly the type of plan — surprises included — for a successful breakout… made Yamato cringe.

  He sat there, in the aft-middle of that bridge, waiting, more nervous than ever.

  At least, he thought, he had the equivalent of nine pulsar guns aiming at the exit of this wormhole. Whatever came out had to face that, and this very fact calmed him a little bit.

  BUT — did it matter? If the enemy could — no, had — created a weapon that could withstand the combined firepower of nine pulsar guns for at least some significant amount of time… well, this very idea made Yamato’s nervousness shoot up a notch once more. What else did they have?

  And were all his defenses this side of the wormhole exit enough? Were all the hundreds of thousands of missiles, dozens of Artemis and Warhammer class capital ships, and the fortresses and Pulsar class battlecruisers, enough? Were the remains of his fighter-bombers enough?

  Only time would tell.

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, above Sol’s wormhole exit

  “You all did well,” said Trevor on the wing net. “That was a no win situation. We couldn’t have taken out that thing even if we all did perfectly. We did, however, make it lose armor, and eventually that led to it being destroyed.”

  The responses came back varied. Most of them said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, sir,” interjected Rogue, “if we had seen that type of ship before, we’d probably know how to destroy it better. The reason we didn’t kill it is because it was new to us.”

  “Yeah,” said Mirage. “Now that the fleet types have scrutinized it, I’m sure we’ll be given its schematics so that next time, we’ll know what to do.”

  “Good thinking, guys,” said Trevor, nodding in his seat. “That’s a good way to look at it. Keep it up.”

  “So guys,” said Hotshot, “what do you all think will come out next? And which one of us is going to take it down?”

  After a while, the conversation dissipated. Trevor was never the type of Commander to outlaw banter. For several minutes, he allowed his wingmates to talk but eventually, a quietness settled on the Wing net — an anxious quietness as everyone watched the wormhole exit. Nothing came out.

  “Think the enemy is done?” said Mirage, finally, breaking the silence. “Maybe they’ve decided to quit.”

  “I wouldn’t bet a dime on it,” Hotshot opened up. “They don’t send all that stuff to destroy our mines for nothing. Whatever is coming out next, it’s going to be big.”

  “Bigger than your mom,” said Brainiac.

  “Oh, you’re so funny. Haha,” said Hotshot sarcastically.

  “So what do you think is going to come out, sir?” said Rogue.

  Trevor thought about it. “Nothing that we can’t destroy.”

  There was a pause, and then he heard his wingmates cheering on the net.

  Trevor smiled in approval, fully knowing none of them would see him do that. The truth was, he seriously believed it. It was a little of his old self coming back, and he was happy this was so.

  The truth was… He didn’t believe in impossibility. He believed in miracles. And he believed that to accomplish them, you had to gamble… sometimes with your life.

  Yes. That’s what I am. That’s the way I ought to think. And that’s the way my wing ought to perform.

  Yes, there will always be death. People around you will die. Sometimes, you’ll buy it yourself. There will always be risk. But if you seriously believe that anything is possible, then you can accomplish big things. And that’s what me and my wing will do. We’ll accomplish big things no matter comes out of that exit.

  … Even if the universe comes at us with all its stars…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, above the wormhole exit, Sol

  More seconds passed. Then, minutes.

  One moment, there was an intense silence above the wormhole and inside the flag bridge, and the next moment, someone on the bridge shouted, “Look! Something’s coming out!”

  Yamato instantly gazed at the wormhole exit on the holomap. He saw it.

  An Argonan capital ship!

  Sensors immediately scanned it and the main computer tagged it as an Argonan megastar-class superdreadnought. Two kilometers long by 600 meters wide, weapon blisters dotted its oval shaped hull. Ragged reinforced carbon nanofiber armor enclosed it on all sides. It was coming out at a meager 0.01 c, which was as fast as it could go through the opening of the wormhole. It fired all its gamma ray lasers at human targets in every direction.

  “All units, fire back!” yelled Yamato.

  Yamato saw thousands of human plasma bolts strike its frontal and side armor. Massive pulsar beams crashed into it from all sides. Laser beams from his stationary turrets struck it.

  There was so much weapon fire that the enemy superdreadnought buckled to the blasts. It did not die, but it did not take such an overwhelming number of blows easily. Immediately, armor exploded, tore and buckled. Warship plasma immediately streamed out of its hull from broken power conduits. Gaseous atmosphere spewed out. Secondary explosions blew holes in its chassis.

  My gods, thought Yamato, it’s almost dead!

  It took the enemy superdreadnought 10 seconds to fully move out of the whirling hurricane that was the wormhole exit — but — the moment it did, a second enemy superdreadnought began making transit through the wormhole exit as well. Yamato could see the tip of the second Argonan capital ship as it pushed out of the gate.

  He turned his gaze at his own units for a moment, and nodded in satisfaction. Human casualties at this moment were low. The human targets the first enemy superdreadnought had fired at had absorbed said fire with their shields.

  “Sir!” said the sensor lieutenant. “Enemy missiles! Lots of them!”

  Yamato shifted his gaze back at the opening. He saw the new threats. To the sides — above, below, right, and left — of the second superdreadnought, enemy missiles streamed out of whatever room was available through the opening. Immediately, the sensor scanned the missiles and the computer tagged them as ship-killer missiles — much stronger and better armored than their minesweeper missiles — not to mention that the ones coming out had about thirty times as much detonation yield in their warheads.

  “All point defense lasers and flak cannons, fire!” commanded Yamato. “Take down those missiles before they hit our warships!”

  On the holomap, all his units surrounding the exit opened their point defense ports. Point defense laser beams sliced into the enemy missiles, hitting their armor, and flak cannons threw detonating cannisters that blew shrapnel in the missiles’ wake.

  But, to Yamato’s amazement, something was immediately wrong.

  There should be a lot more of their missiles blowing up to our point defense fire. What’s going on? Have they improved their ecm? Why are so few of them falling to the immense volume of our concentrated point defense fire?

  “Computer,” said Yamato, “intensify scans on their missiles and analyze each missiles’ internal components.”

  “Analyzing…” said the computer. “Analysis complete. Displaying.”

  Suddenly a hologram of an enemy missile’s internal schematics appeared in front of him.

  He quickly perused it.

  Power core. Antimatter storage pod. Warhead. Drive ring. Armor. More armor. But…

  What the hell was that?

  “Computer, what is this component at position A-5?”

  “That is a shield matrix emitter,” stated the computer.

  Shield technology??? The Argonans were using shield technology on their missiles?

  How? How? How had they gained it?

  For a moment, Yamato drowned in his puzzlement. And then he blinked. He realized it. When the enemy had captured his immobilized warships that
he left in Alpha Centauri after his retreat back to Sol, they had reverse engineered human shielding technology. They had stolen his shields!

  Obviously, they didn’t have time to put shields on all their warships — not yet, anyway! — but they had time to manufacture new ship-killer missiles with shields!

  On the main holomap, he saw the impact of these new shields. Whereas 80% of all ship-killer missiles in a particular wave should have died to his point defense fire, now only 30% did. The new shields had made their missiles more than twice as durable. Worse, because more missiles survived the initial point defense fire, additional point defense fire was forced to be used to kill those missiles, while the missile waves behind the surviving missiles were untouched. It became a rolling effect, allowing more missiles to escape the bottleneck that was the wormhole exit and launch themselves against his stationary and mobile ships.

  Within seconds, the first wave of enemy ship-killer missiles smacked into his stationary laser turrets. His laser turrets’ shields glowed green and auburn as the megatons of destructive energy exploded on top of them.

  His gaze instantly went to the health display of his laser turrets and saw that, on average, their shield saturation had fallen to 60% from this missile wave alone!

  What could he do? The enemy’s missiles were much harder to kill.

  As Yamato watched additional waves of missiles exit the wormhole and launch into attack trajectories at his units, he felt a sense of panic. His only option seemed to be to let his units’ point defense fire attempt to kill the ship-killer missiles as best as they could, as little as they could, while his units’ main cannons continued firing at the enemy capital ships that were exiting the wormhole simultaneously with their ship-killer missiles.

  Yes… that’s all I can do. I can’t increase the rate in which I’m killing their ship-killer missiles, with their new shields or without. But — I can control the rate in which I kill off their capital ships coming out of that exit!