Battle of Sol

by Lee Guo

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, on board the Carrier Enterprise — itself retreating towards Mars’ fighter base to restock with new fighters

  Trevor climbed out of his cockpit and stepped foot onto the Enterprise’s hangar deck for the first time in 6 hours. He was alive… but everyone he knew was dead.

  He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

  Rogue… Mace… Diamond… they were all that was left. And half of them he barely knew.

  “Sandy,” said a voice.

  He looked to the bird docked next to him, at the person standing next to it. Rogue was a mean looking woman, but for the first time, she was crying. Tears fell off her cheeks.

  Trevor felt like it himself. He walked up to her bird and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Why?” said Rogue. “Why do the star gods have to be so cruel?”

  Trevor shrugged. “I guess that’s why they made us, so we survivors can be tested to our limits. We should feel proud.”

  “I don’t feel proud. I don’t feel anything,” said Rogue. “Everyone’s gone, Sandy. Only us two from the whole Wing left. All 16 members. Just us left.”

  “We’ll get more. We’ll be a new family, again. New faces. New people.”

  “They’re going to send us to die, again, Sandy. What’s the point of gettin’ new people if we’re all going to be killed by enemy lasers, again?”

  “I don’t know.” Trevor didn’t say anything after that. He knew before he joined that he’d be part of an elite group who would be wilted down in numbers after the end of each battle. He knew, and he knew Rogue knew, what was coming before they signed up for the role. To die for one’s country, or star nation, or race, had been an idyllic thing. What was more honorable was that he was a select few who had the natural ability to learn the skills required to be a fighter pilot. Everyone here was a hotshot, a cream of the crop.

  Therefore, he had been emotionally prepared for what had happened. Or so he thought.

  But damn it, because he had never felt so saddened and distraught until now, now that the frailty of a pilot’s fragile life became so clear.

  The only reconciliation was that his fighter pilots, and fighter pilots overall, weren’t the only ones wilted down in numbers.

  So many dead. In here and in the fleet. The losses in human numbers… I saw it happen. I saw it on my map display. So many ships and crews lost. So many!

  How does anyone deal with such devastation? You have to be a monster. A mechanical machinelike monster to still think clearly after seeing so many people perish… gone, just like that. I know I couldn’t handle the pressure of taking control of everything after knowing every one of your actions will lead — or have already lead — to the deaths of thousands… and millions! You have to be part-insane!

  He took his hands off Rogue. Funny thing was that it didn’t make a difference. She was still crying.

  “Camilla,” said Trevor, “let’s eat. Shock and devastation is energy intensive. We’ll need more energy for what’s coming next.”

  Rogue nodded, and followed him out of the hangar bay and to the carrier’s cafeteria.

  And it wasn’t even over…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, retreating towards Mars Base

  “Computer,” asked Yamato, “estimate the amount of time required for the enemy fleet to reach Mars, and estimate the amount of time it’ll take us to destroy an enemy battlecruiser. Estimate the time to destroy a superdreadnought and a Titan — using pulsar beams, of course.”

  “Calculating… The ETA of the enemy fleet to reach Mars is 2.3 hours. The average time to destroy a Shark-class battlecruiser using all five pulsar guns is two minutes at maximum range. The time to destroy a Megastar-class superdreadnought is four minutes. The time to destroy a Moebius-class Titan is unknown.”

  “Why?”

  “There are no records of a pulsar beam hitting a Moebius-class Titan.”

  Damn. Yamato glanced at the enemy’s Titans on the holomap. And I can’t even experiment with shooting a pulsar beam at their Titans because the enemy’s Titans are well guarded behind their front sheets. “Can you estimate based on scans of a Titan’s armor composition and armor density?”

  “Affirmative. Calculating...” said the computer. “Assuming not all pulsar beams hit the mark as the Titan will be evasively sliding, and assuming all pulsar beams hit at maximum range, and assuming we cannot control where on the Titan’s forward-facing surface the pulsar beam hits — it will take roughly seven to eight minutes per Titan using all five Pulsar-class battlecruisers.”

  “I see. Thank you computer.”

  Let’s see… 26 battlecruisers, 16 superdreadnoughts, and 5 Titans. 2 minutes per battlecruiser. 4 minutes per superdreadnought. 8 minutes per titan. That’s about two and half hours — Assuming the enemy will let us fire at their ships while they make transit towards Mars and Earth.

  Of course, that estimate doesn’t factor in the new fighters we get from Mars.

  Nor does it factor in our surprise element behind the sun.

  So… Yamato blinked. It’ll be tight.

  But it can’t be that simple, can it?

  Surely, the enemy has something in store for us.

  But what?

  And when will they reveal them?

  Maybe they still don’t realize how effective our pulsar class battlecruisers are. Maybe they think we’ll run out of energy or something. Maybe…

  Yamato stared at the holomap. Damn, I wish I had put more industry into making Pulsars. The whole war might be lost here because I didn’t make the correct decision. Just a little bit more Pulsar battlecruisers and we’d have this in the bag!

  Actually, if I hadn’t wasted all my firepower on that enemy fortress… we’d have it in the bag, too.

  He looked at the enemy fortress trailing way behind the enemy’s formation. A thought crept through Yamato’s mind that now was a good time to take it out, since it was no longer guarded by enemy ships — but no! That shouldn’t be a priority target. The priority target is the fast moving enemy fleet. Only they can threaten to destroy earth’s construction docks before we can neutralize them. Even if we destroy the enemy’s sole battlestation, which we can with our pulsar-classes now that their fleet isn’t guarding it, it’s just a waste of firepower that could be fired against the enemy’s main fleet.

  Besides… how the hell am I going to maneuver my pulsars over to their fortress which is behind their fleet and then get my pulsars back to the frontlines?

  I can’t.

  Yamato sighed. So… now I know what my options are — what I can and cannot do. But what are the enemy’s options? Are they just going to bulldoze their fleet at Earth and hope for the best? What other things can they do? What is there next trick?

  As if right on cue, an alarm sounded. “Missile ships exiting the wormhole!” said one of the bridge officers.

  Yamato focused on the wormhole exit on the holomap. Sure enough, there they were. Thank the gods I didn’t tell my pulsars to drain their shields while continuing to absorb enemy capital ship fire so they can continue shooting at D18! “Anti-missile formations!” yelled Yamato on the command line. “All pulsars, stop shooting at the enemy ships temporarily and maneuver into the back of our formation. All other ships, move to the front and shoot down those missiles!”

  Let’s see how my pulsars’ point defense can weather an enemy missile storm.

  Enemy missile ships exited the wormhole exit one after another. The sensors on board all human ships counted them. At first, there were 10, then 20, then 30.

  30 became 40, then 50, and finally 60.

  But it didn’t stop there.

  60 became 70, until finally 76 enemy missile ships registered on board the tact net of every human warship. The alien missile ships organized into a flat sheet and sped towards the human fleet at a maximum speed of 0.2c.

  Targets were assigned to every missile ship by the ene
my fleet commander. Some of the missiles were assigned to hit human destroyers, but the main target of the missile ship fleet were the human Pulsar class battlecruisers, as the Pulsars were the only real threat to Argonan victory.

  And then the command was given, and the missile ships fired.

  144,000 enemy missiles sped outward towards the human fleet like one massive swarm, all moving towards the human fleet at a standard 0.7c.

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, forming an anti-missile wall in between the wormhole exit and Mars Base

  144,000 missiles! Yamato shuddered. And I bet they’re shielded, too!

  He gazed at the 144,000 small icons on the holomap, each with velocity and trajectory indicators. My gods, can we even survive this? Can our battered fleet’s point defense net take down even 60% of those missiles?

  He leaned back in his seat and tried to take it all in. What the hell do I do? I… I did not expect there to be this many!

  But in hindsight… why shouldn’t there be this many? After all, we didn’t damage any of their missile ships in the battle a month ago. And they have had plenty of time to add more missile ships to their ranks. And each of these missile ships can carry 2,000 missiles.

  Damn… I’ve miscalculated. Quite a big woops. I thought there’d be less missiles coming through that wormhole. Enough so that my ships could swat them down with minimum losses. And I thought they used most of them during the earlier push. I didn’t expect the enemy to produce this many, but then again, why not? They had ample time to prepare and they have a huge manufacturing base.

  Now, because of my failure at miscalculation, I’m going to suffer the consequences. Everyone in my command is going to suffer the consequences.

  And I’ve got only 7 minutes before those missiles hit us!

  He gazed at his remaining ships. His forward facing lens comprised of a thick sheet of 30 screening destroyers. Each destroyer had 250 point defense laser cannons and 40 flak guns. Behind this sheet were 6 of his Artemis-class battlecruisers aligned in hexagonal formation. Each Artemis had 400 point defense laser batteries and 80 flak guns. At the center of this hexagonal formation was his remaining superdreadnought, a Warhammer-class with 800 point defense lasers and 120 flak guns.

  And his rearmost sheet was comprised of 5 of his untouched Pulsar-class battlecruisers, aligned in pentagonal formation. Each Pulsar had 1500 point defense laser batteries. They did not have any flak guns.

  And as for his carriers… well, they were far away, moving at fastest speed towards Mars. They would not participate in the fight.

  Yamato studied his formation and realized they were as good as they would ever be. Now, the fate of the human fleet rested in the fleet computers and the synchronized computer-run tactical net.

  He crossed his fingers and prayed, fully knowing that his fleet was not big enough to take out those shielded Argonan missiles without absorbing serious losses.

  144,000 enemy missiles screamed down at the human fleet, which was already in tight formation, ready to create a thick flak wall.

  The moment the missiles entered range, all 30 human destroyers opened fire with their flak cannons. A massive flak wall appeared 70,000 kilometers ahead of the human destroyer sheet, blasting space around it with high velocity shrapnel. The destroyers’ point defense lasers also unleashed hell on the incoming missiles.

  Ordinarily, such a tactic would work against an incoming wave of enemy missiles. This time, however, the missiles were shielded. Their weak shields gave the missiles resilience, and it took more than one hit to bring each missile down. Nevertheless, some did go down. As the swarm of missiles smacked into the flak wall, thousands of them perished. Those that did not die to human flak had to face the destroyers’ point defense laser beams, which tore into the Argonan missiles’ shields. Thousands more died this way.

  Out of the 144,000 missiles that entered the defenses of the human destroyer sheet, over 48,000 made it through to advance towards the human fleet’s second layer of defense — its six Artemises and its lone Warhammer superdreadnought. Once again, this wall of capital ships created another wall of flak and point defense lasers beams. Once again, missiles died. But at this point in the battle, the defense created by these human capital ships were very weak, as the capital ship numbers were lower than before. Out of 48,000 missiles that hit this barrier, over 26,000 made it through to advance towards the human last layer of defenses, which was created by the primary target of these missiles.

  The five pulsar class battlecruisers opened fire with the only anti-missile weapons they had, their 1600 point defense laser turrets on each. But! — these were not ordinary point defense laser turrets like those mounted on human destroyers. They were the latest development in anti-missile technology — dual pulse laser turrets. Each turret could fire two pulse laser beams. Each pulse laser beam was 1.4 times as powerful as an ordinary human point defense laser beam and since there were two of them, the entire individual turret’s total damage output was 2.8 times as strong as ordinary PD laser turrets. Not only that, but pulse lasers could fire twice as fast.

  Thus, in the last layer of antimissile defense, a total of 8000 point defense laser turrets unleashed a total of 16000 pulse laser beams at twelve times per second into the ranks of the incoming missiles. Many of these beams missed the mark, and many that hit damaged only the enemy missiles’ shields, but in total, there was much more damage done on the enemy missiles than any earlier defensive layer. Out of 26,000 Argonan missiles that reached this stage, only 3200 made it through so they could begin attack runs on the five pulsar-class battlecruisers. Their goal: either to proximity detonate or directly impact.

  Still, this was an incredible amount of missiles, and the energy released by their successful detonation was over 120,000 megatons of TNT. Missiles crashed into the five pulsar battlecruisers’ shields. Those did not directly hit, proximity detonated. Human shields flared and died. Shield generators were overwhelmed, and many shield matrices collapsed. As a result, antimatter energy tore into armor.

  For the human fleet, all hell broke loose.

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, retreating towards Mars Base in an anti-missile formation

  The Carpathia rumbled and shook from antimatter detonations on its armor. Yamato didn’t need to look at the holomap to know that his pulsars-class battlecruisers were being overwhelmed by waves and waves of missiles that had penetrated through all the layers of anti-missile defense.

  He didn’t even want to look, but he did, at the shield gauge indicators of all five Pulsars. Not one of them had over 20% shield saturation, and two didn’t even have shields.

  Yet the missiles waves kept coming, and slamming into him.

  Yamato winced from the pain, and desperately hoped that all of his Pulsars would make it out alive. He knew it wouldn’t be so. Even losing one would be disastrous to the war as well as his chances. Worse, his Pulsars only had battlecruiser level armor.

  His eyes never left the map that showed the damage report statistics hovering over each of them.

  We’re dying. I’m dying. Despite our valiant attempts at stopping these missiles, too many got through, and our armor and shields were never meant to take this much beating. There just were too many missiles to begin with.

  And then the worst happened.

  On the holomap, the Mecklenburg stopped transmitting damage statistics. It had already lost its shields a minute ago. Instead, its image flickered and a massive fireball erupted from deep within. It exploded into two gigantic pieces.

  Damn it! All hands lost! An entire pulsar gone!

  The enemy missiles that were aiming for the Mecklenburg veered for another Pulsar-class battlecruiser. The Viceroy suffered repeated blows to its armor, and when the additional missiles hit and white-hot detonations exploded on its structure until it, too, stopped transmitting damage reports. The Viceroy did not explode, at least not immediately, but Yamato could tell something was wrong with its comm
and data-link. It stopped sliding backwards and became adrift.

  A second one gone!

  And then… the missile waves finally ended. As the last missiles were destroyed by point defense beams, Yamato’s eyes widened at the damage results.

  3 pulsars survived… each shield depleted and armor damaged. At least the good news was that the main weapon on each was still fully functional. Power fluctuations exist in the Infinity. Four shield emitters are damaged in the Horang. Thank the gods that all three still have fully functional drives.

  Gods, how did we survive all that?

  It’s a goddamn miracle that we survived! Why? The point defense lasers on our pulsars are really good, that’s why. And so are our shields — they absorbed so much damage.

  Now, I must order them back to work —

  “All Pulsars,” yelled Yamato on the command link, “quickly return to the front of our formation and begin attacking the enemy fleet with your pulsar guns —”

  “Sir!” said an ensign. “The enemy fleet! They’re retreating!”

  Yamato blinked. He stared at the enemy section of the holomap. All enemy ships were indeed retreating. Why? “Ex… Excellent! We’ll shoot at them while they retreat. This gives us more time for us to shoot at them before they reach Earth and Mars.”

  Why were they retreating???

  The battle continued.

  As the enemy fleet indeed retreated back to the wormhole exit, the human fleet gleefully continued firing at them from points outside the enemy’s firing range. Sector General Yamato kept wondering why the enemy fleet retreated…

  In a period of twelve minutes, 2 more enemy battlecruisers went down along with 1 enemy superdreadnought. The human fleet suffered no casualties.

  At this point, the enemy had 24 battlecruisers, 15 superdreadnoughts, 79 destroyers, and 5 Titans.

  Human fleet numbers remained unchanged during this phase. The humans had: