by Lee Guo
A pause. Then Mirage answered, “Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” came the replies of the other members of his Wing.
Seconds passed by. He kept his bird aligned with his Wing. Together, they sped forward. For a moment, he was outside the enemy’s point defense envelope. And then, moments later, he was in.
The enemy ships fired.
Immediately, he could see on the main map, all the birds of his wing performing erratic maneuvers, just as he taught them. But the enemy’s hail of point defense laser beams was so intense that he could see his fighters taking shield damage on his Wing’s structural health map display. Within seconds, three birds in his wing already had shields blown down to 20%. And it was just beginning. He could see how this would turn out.
It would take another twenty seconds, a near eternity within the enemy’s point defense envelope, to get to bombing range of the enemy superdreadnought.
“Ahh!” yelled Foxy.
Trevor quickly twisted his head to view Foxy’s bird’s health on his Wing’s structure display and saw that her shields were gone. He saw intense structural damage to her bird. Moments later, Foxy’s fighter blinked to black. Foxy was dead.
Damn.
Soon after, another bird followed Foxy’s path. How that happened, he did not know. He could not see the direct impact of the enemy’s weapons on his wingmate’s bird, but he knew they were dead when another one of his fighters blinked to black on his display.
Trevor cringed. No, no, not this fast! I want my members alive! They’re my boys. They’re my responsibility! No!
Trevor prayed that no more of his birds would die from enemy fire before they got within range of dropping their payload. But within seconds, another bird went black.
Three birds dead…
And then they were in position to launch their bombs.
“All birds,” yelled Trevor, “launch your payload and get out of here! Fire!”
On his map display, he saw the short range missiles lurch from his remaining wingmates’ fighters then slam into the rear and drive rings of the superdreadnought. The enemy SD buckled to the blasts as fireballs blossomed in its rear and around its drive ring where vast boleros of explosions emanated. Suddenly, it stopped moving and remained dead still, right where it had been before its drive ring got bombed. It was immobilized!
Trevor pumped his fist into the air inside his cockpit, exhilarated that at least his wing’s bombs had done something, unlike last time when he and his wingmates had tried to bomb one of the enemy’s minesweeper dreadnoughts.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” yelled Trevor to his wingmates. “Get out of their point defense envelope. Anyone who makes it back to the carrier has free drinks on me!”
“Yes, sir!” the survivors cried.
By the time all of them had made it out of the enemy’s point defense and were safe, two more wingmates had bit the dust — their birds had gone black in his wing health monitor. Inside that cockpit, Trevor tried to come to terms with reality. He had lost 5 birds in this assault. Five more dead wing members added to the three dead from the last sortie. His wing… his command… was now down to only eight members.
Trevor felt like screaming. He had lost 50% of his wing! 50% of the people he had trained and lived with for the past month were now dead.
He gritted his teeth, grinding them inside his mouth. He felt like taking off his helmet and pulling at his hair.
Yet… none of that would bring his comrades back. None of it would alleviate the pain and the guilt for surviving when those around him had perished.
Why, star gods?? Why??? Trevor yelled in his head, to which there was no answer and never would be.
**
At first, it seemed to the human fleet that the enemy was numerically insurmountable. Every Argonan ship that fell was replaced by another that came out of the wormhole exit — and over time, more and more Argonan ships collected outside the wormhole exit, bringing their overall numbers to nearly equal amounts — but even then, the sheer firepower on the human side showed its mark on the battle. Namely, the human star fortresses proved themselves in the titanic firefight.
Armed with two maxed out pulsar guns per, the fortresses were able to fire laser blasts in the 800 megatons of TNT range in each gun. Time and time again, enemy capital ships — whether they were battlecruisers or superdreadnoughts — were assaulted by these star fortresses. The sheer volume of fire penetrated through hundreds of meters of armor and seared into the inner compartments of these enemy ships, overwhelming them and causing widespread internal damage.
This insane amount of firepower was added with that of the human Pulsar-class battlecruisers, all of which fired from a distance.
Time and time again, various Argonan ships attempted to fire back at the only targets that were equipped with pulsar guns in range — the human fortresses. Graser beams slashed at the fortresses’ shields, but each fortress had six mark-10 shield generators capable of replenishing diminished shield saturation levels at awesome ease. Fortress shields at any moment could only fall to 80% but that was as low as they ever became.
By the time a full 10 minutes passed since the fourth phase of battle began, the numbers of fallen was this: humanity had lost 5 Artemis-class battlecruisers and 3 Warhammer superdreadnoughts, bringing humanity’s total mobile fighting force to 16 surviving Artemis battlecruisers and 4 Warhammer superdreadnoughts, plus 5 Pulsar-class battlecruisers and 16 carriers. Humanity’s pulsar-class battlecruisers had suffered no casualties nor had humanity’s carriers. However, their remaining close-range Artemises and Warhammers had suffered a lot of shield damage and many were now fighting with armor only.
Meanwhile, the Argonans had lost over 17 battlecruisers and 8 superdreadnoughts in the fourth phase, in addition to 10 capital ships lost in the third phase, bringing the sum total of sunken capital ships to 35. The sum total surviving enemy warships outside the wormhole exit was 12 battlecruisers and 6 superdreadnoughts, plus 22 destroyers.
Thus, it could be said that the humans were vastly winning this part of the battle given their kill vs loss ratios. Over 35 enemy capital ships had fallen, compared to only 8 human ships — the reason was none other than the old fact that the enemy was forced to come out of the exit in small numbers, allowing the humans to vastly concentrate their overwhelming firepower on the few enemy ships that came out every moment.
But even while humanity had superior quantity of ships to add to their full firepower, humanity’s quality of ships could not be dismissed. Each of humanity’s five pulsar-classes could out-fire each human Artemis-class by nearly ten times as much destructive energy. And when the human star fortresses were added to the mix, it was undeniable which side had the firepower advantage even if the numbers were even, which they were soon becoming so, despite the rate of ships the enemy were losing.
But… the enemy’s Titans had not yet exited from the wormhole…
Another reason why so many Argonan ships fell was this — as long as the Argonans had not vacated the immediate surroundings of the wormhole exit, none of the enemy’s ships could slide sideways to evade incoming fire. The wormhole’s natural movement-hindering properties extended to about 10,000 kilometers in every direction from the wormhole exit, preventing ships inside the parameter from sliding to max speed. At most, the enemy ships could move to 0.01 c, at least until they got out of the wormhole’s immediate surroundings.
Worse, any enemy ship that did manage to fully come out of the wormhole exit was easily pinpointed and fired upon by human forces…
Thus, for all these reasons and more, it seemed to the humans within the system that there was no way the enemy could breakout and hold the exit.
That is, until the enemy used their trump card…
Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia
Yamato stared at the holographic battle happening before him, a sly grin appearing on his face. Was this it?
He gazed at a different display and saw all
the ship-killer missiles he still had left… holding stationary and unpowered… all of them aligned in a vast area surrounding the exit. He had only used 40% so far on the enemy’s capital ships. He had over 80,000 normal missiles left!
Was this it? Is this all the enemy had? If they continue pushing through like this, I think… I think I can call it a victory!
Where are their Titans? Where are their K-ships?
He watched and watched and — simply like that — the enemy quickly answered his questions in the only way they knew how — by making new things emerge from the exit.
He saw them. Small destroyer-sized ships emerging from the exit — but they looked different from the enemy’s normal destroyers. These had no weapons blisters, only propulsion and gods-so much armor. And they were twice as fast.
The Carpathia’s sensor suite immediately scanned the new objects, displaying information about them holographically in front of Yamato. 60% of each object was carbon-meta armor. Each of their drive rings were enormous for a ship of its size. And… the other 40% of it was devoted to the containment of pure antimatter.
“K-ships, sir!” yelled the sensor lieutenant. “They’re coming at our fortresses hard!”
Yamato nodded. He had to act fast. “All ships and all stationary guns, switch targeting temporarily to enemy destroyer designation W-1! Fire at will! All fighters with bombs left, attack W-1, W-2, W-3, and W-4!”
He heard the affirmatives come back at him.
He gazed at his missile dumps. The next step was to devote a portion of his missiles on the enemy’s K-ships. He had to quickly decide how many to use and how to proportion them on all the K-ships. It was crucial that he took out all of the enemy’s K-ships. Even one that managed to evaded his defenses long enough to ram his fortresses would be a disaster.
He thought quickly. How much of his missile reserves should he use? The first option was to use all, but that seemed immediately foolish. What if the enemy had more K-ships to send after this wave? But… why would the enemy send K-ships in waves instead of all at once to overwhelm his defenses? Was this the only wave? He counted 4 K-ships presently.
No… there had to be more waves. 4 would be much too few.
The enemy must have devoted their production power to more k-ships than only four. But perhaps they didn’t have enough antimatter to create more than four?
Yamato shook his head. He couldn’t make assumptions like that. If he assumed the enemy had only 4 k-ships, it would be too easy for him…
And then he reminded himself that he had to reserve some missiles for the enemy’s Titans when they came. The Titans… they were a trouble in themselves. Why had the enemy kept their Titans in reserve instead of sending them headfirst with the first wave of enemy capital ships?
He didn’t know.
He spoke, again, this time to his missile controllers. “Missile groups A1, B1, C1, D1, E1, and F1, ignite sliding drive and accelerate towards k-ship target W-1. Missile groups A2, B2, C2, to F2, head for target W-2. Missile groups A3 to F3, attack target W-3. Groups A4 to F4, attack k-ship W-4.”
He sat back. He had apportioned four thousand missiles for each K-ship. There were four k-ships, so he had used up approximately 16,000 missiles out of his total remaining 80,000 missiles. He hoped it would be enough. He hoped he wasn’t being too frugal with his missiles. He had to keep the rest of his missiles in reserve. If he didn’t, he risked not having any for any later enemy’s waves that might come out of the wormhole…
Every human warship, turret, and star fortress switched fire away from the enemy’s out-coming capital ships and redirected it at the enemy K-ships — in particular, human fire concentrated on the leading enemy K-ship, as per Yamato’s orders.
Plasma bolts from the 16 Artemis battlecruisers and the 4 remaining Warhammer superdreadnoughts dove into and smashed the leading armored K-ship. In addition, multi-megaton pulsar beams from the two star fortresses and the five Pulsar battlecruisers slashed into the leading K-ship’s armored hull, ripping and exploding through armor.
4,000 human ship-killer missiles screamed down at the first K-ship. Those that survived enemy’s screening destroyers’ and capital ships’ point defense fire smashed and detonated each missile’s 20 megatons of destructive energy on the K-ship’s armor in concert with the extremely short range but devastatingly powerful antimatter missiles launched from human fighter-bombers.
Yet, even despite all this fire, the K-ship did not prematurely detonate… at least not immediately. It was… one of the most heavily armored enemy units within the game. Not as armored as one of the enemy’s minesweeper dreadnoughts — not even as armored as an enemy Titan — but it was still capable of withstanding an extensive beating. That was what they were made to do, to be able to withstand beatings… at least long enough until their payload reached its target.
It took a full minute of constant assaults by the human forces within the system before human fire finally penetrated into the first K-ship’s innards and it lost containment of its antimatter in its storage pods. The leading K-ship finally exploded in a massive fireball that brightened the space above the wormhole like a newborn sun.
One down… three more to go.
Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia
Yamato winced as he heard many bridge crewmen cheer after having seen the first K-ship go down.
“All units, attack the 2nd K-ship, designation W-2, quickly!” he said.
It’s not over, yet. We’ve only killed one, and there’s three left. Meanwhile, none of our forces are firing on the enemy’s other fleet assets to keep their numbers pinned down. Their warship numbers will be allowed to grow with new units coming out of that wormhole while we ignore them. Worse, their out-coming fleets are firing on our ships.
Yamato was worried and he had a right to be.
Even worse… Yamato cringed. It had taken a full minute to kill one K-ship with all his concentrated fire. Yet, the three remaining K-ships were almost half the way to the star fortress Centauri’s Sorrow, and they had not been fired upon except by his missile attacks and fighter strikes. If he continued doing what he was presently doing, at least two of the enemy’s K-ships would ram the targeted star fortress.
Quick! Think, Harvey! What do I do?
He had to do something, and quickly.
How much damage exactly had the rest of them suffered from his missile attacks?
He watched as the last of his missiles rammed into the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th K-ship. Many of his missiles died to the enemy fleet’s point defense fire, but those that survived caused numerous megaton explosions that ignited on the remaining K-ships’ hull, but the enemy’s K-ships did not die. He stared at their health and structural integrity screen. The 2nd, 3rd, and 4th K-ships had suffered extensive hull damage, but they were still mobile… and their antimatter storage pods had not been penetrated. It would take more concentrated attacks from his fleet and star fortresses.
But would it be enough?
No, it wouldn’t be. The remaining three were almost 50% there, and he had only killed one! He had to do something… fast! But what could he do? His fleet and stationary units were firing at maximum capacity.
The only thing left was his… his remaining missiles!
“Missile groups A5 to F5, initiate startup and attack K-ship W-2! Missile groups G1 to L1, attack K-ship W-3! Missile groups G2 to L2, attack W-4!”
There. He had sent an additional 16,000 ship-killer missiles distributed evenly at the remaining three K-ships. He hoped it wasn’t too late.
Once again, all human units concentrated their fire on the second K-ship. A new wave of missiles, plasma bolts, and laser beams slammed into the 2nd enemy K-ship.
For half a minute, it stood, fully on course, but since it had already been damaged by a previous wave of missiles and fighter bombs, it did not take long before its incredibly well-armored but ravaged hull succumbed to all the new incoming human fire.
Weapon fire penetrated
the second k-ship’s internals and its antimatter storage pods became damaged. Parts of its antimatter stores touched normal matter and the 2nd K-ship exploded in a massive, dazzling ten gigaton equivalent blast of TNT that once again brightened the dark sky above the wormhole exit.
Meanwhile, the rest of the enemy fleet — their battlecruisers, superdreadnoughts, and destroyers — fired at the human units within the system, while having received no counterfire in return. Enemy grazer beams slashed at the human warships, all of whom renewed their concentrated fire on the third enemy K-ship.
Grazer fire penetrated the human battlecruiser Epsilon Eridani’s hull and damaged its internal power flows. Warship plasma leaked and touched the human ship’s rear magazines, all of which detonated. The human warship also exploded in a gigantic nuclear fireball, but on a smaller level than a K-ship’s detonation.
Enemy grazer beams crashed into another human battlecruiser whose shields had also been depleted and it exploded as well.
But — twenty seconds later, the third K-ship also detonated due to concentrated fire from all the human units guarding the wormhole exit.
Human fire immediately switched targeting to the fourth and last K-ship — but — it was too late. The last K-ship rammed the human star fortress named Centauri’s Sorrow and…
Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia
A MASSIVE blinding-white explosion detonated on top of the star fortress Centauri’s Sorrow and for a moment, all sensor information fizzled on the flag bridge’s main holomap. For that moment, Yamato could not see anything, and could not do anything except imagine what was happening to the first of his two star fortresses, not more than 40,000 kilometers away.
By the star gods, may the battlestation still be there.