Battle of Sol

by Lee Guo

  Woo hoo!

  My wing killed off two missile ships! Trevor thought about taking off his helmet to breathe some air from the hangar, but thought better of it. Instead, he opened the channel to the wing net. “Okay, everybody. You did good. We lost some people to enemy point defense, but that’s natural. I want you all to be proud of yourself, but not only that, I want everyone to think of how they could improve during their next strike. Could my dodging be better? Could I have hit somewhere else on the target? The routes that we were assigned, we had no control over that, and I doubt we’ll have control over our next route, but I just want everyone to think of all the ways we can improve our next sortie, even if just a little. That’s it. Enjoy your next ten minutes, Trevor out.”

  Trevor closed his link to the channel and opened up a MRE packet. Boy, he was hungry!

  10 minutes later…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, guarding the carriers while maintaining relative position with the enemy fleet outside the enemy’s missile envelope

  “All fighters, launch the second strike!” Yamato said while gazing at the readiness indicators above each of his 16 holographic fleet carriers. The indicators told him that nearly all his fighters had been restocked and refueled. They were good to go.

  This is going to be easy.

  Too easy. Yamato raised an eyebrow. The second strike should in all expectations destroy the remainder of the enemy’s missile ships. But… surely the enemy has something planned. They always had something planned — some contingency, some new unit, some new tactic.

  Yet, they were caught completely off guard when his last fighter strike had hit their fleet. If they had something magical planned, surely they would have used it on Yamato’s fighters’ last sortie.

  I guess, this time, I really got them with their pants down. This time, I’ve finally found a flaw in their strategy… some loophole that they had not predicted.

  This time, the situation isn’t so dire that we were forced to fighter strike the enemy from the front. We were able to capitalize on that fact, and we suffered minimal losses because of it.

  And if the enemy did have something planned, something new to surprise us, whatever new units would have to come out of that wormhole and travel the entire distance towards the current front line, and because of that, we’d have plenty of time to change our strategy. After all, no one can break the laws of physics.

  Unless, they have cloakers…

  Yamato froze and blinked. Whatever happened to the enemy’s sole cloaker? — The one that prematurely detonated our wormhole bombs? Did our mines manage to fully destroy it once it was detectable? And did the enemy produce any more since then?

  … Perhaps they were so expensive to produce that the enemy decided not to produce any more.

  Yamato sat there, eyeing the holomap, wondering what new units or traps the enemy had planned. Perhaps he was being overly cautious to the point of cowardice… but he had learned that one could not be overly cautious against the Argonans. Time and time, again, the enemy had sprung traps on him in what had initially appeared to be easy opportunities for a human victory.

  Hmm… I guess I’ll just have to wait and see… and be on my tiptoes throughout the entire battle. What other choice do I have?

  Yamato kept his eyes on the holomap. He noticed that the two combatant fleets were almost three quarters the way to Mars, which meant there was enough time for a minimum of two fighter strikes, perhaps even three.

  He had 2080 human fighters left. And they were all going in, once more.

  8 minutes later…

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, on another attack run, almost within striking distance of the enemy fleet

  We’re almost there. We’re gonna get them. We’re gonna annihilate the rest of those missile ships. Trevor grinned. Almost there.

  There!

  On his map display, he saw all 14 members of his Wing reach position delta, which meant that they were now in position just outside the enemy fleet’s anti-fighter defenses… and were now ready to make the shortest distance attack run on the target — the enemy’s missile ships.

  It was now or nothing.

  “Alright, everyone!” said Trevor into the Wing net. “Dive! Dance and dive! Dance and dive!”

  He heard the affirmatives on the net, and he watched as everyone in his wing entered the point defense and flak envelope of the nearest enemy capital ships and destroyers that defended the missile ships at the very center of the enemy ‘ball’.

  Immediately, he saw the enemy fire point defense beams at his Wing, and he nodded in approval as his newbies began performing aerobatics that dodged the incoming fire. It won’t be that bad, after all.

  Maybe we might just make it…

  Suddenly, on his map display, he saw missile separation. The enemy missile ships were launching missiles!

  What the fuck? What are those missile targeting? Our carriers and capital ships are outside their missile envelope. Where are those missiles going?

  And then suddenly, it dawned on him.

  They’re targeting us!

  Oh gods, we’re in trouble!

  The missiles are coming after us!

  On the map display, he saw all the missile ships launching a portion of their missiles. Suddenly, each missile headed outward away from their central ball and went into interception paths of all the human fighter wings that were coming from every side. The enemy was using their missiles to shoot down all the human fighters!

  “All members of alpha wing, activate your plasma cannons — and shoot the missiles down!” shouted Trevor.

  The affirmatives came back.

  Inside his cockpit, Trevor heard himself panting. He pressed a button and his fighter’s plasma cannon opened up, and he aimed his crosshairs at the nearest missile that was veering for his path. He aimed, and he fired.

  That missile, which was coming at him at .7 c, flared in crimson as its shields caught Trevor’s first plasma bolt. It continued moving.

  Oh gods, oh gods.

  He fired, again.

  The missile exploded.

  Another missile took its place.

  “All units, fire!” yelled Trevor.

  His wing fired in unison, and the missile exploded, but there were even more coming after them.

  There must have been… 10 enemy missiles for every human fighter!

  “Everyone dance!” yelled Trevor. “Dance and fire! Try to make the missiles miss!”

  “Oh gods,” yelled Rogue. “They’re coming! There’s too many of them!”

  It was a swarm. No matter how many his wing swatted away, more kept coming after his wing. The 160 other wings were also trying to do the same thing — to no avail.

  And then the nearest missile rammed into one of his fighters. The explosion was eye-shattering at this distance. 50 megatons of raw energy exploded at point blank range. On his wing health display, Rogue’s fighter blinked to black in an instant.

  Rogue!

  “Keep firing!” yelled Trevor to his wing.

  Dear gods. Are we going to survive this?

  The swarm of missiles was unending. No matter how many his wing shot down, more took their place. Time and time, again, missiles reached range of his fighters and either proximity detonated or detonated on target.

  Trevor looked at his Wing health display and saw so many of his fighters fade into blackness…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, guarding the carriers while maintaining relative position with the enemy fleet outside the enemy’s missile envelope

  Yamato grunted in agony as another fighter wing went down on the holomap. In the back of his head, he suspected this might happen, but he never believed it would actually happen until now. The enemy was using their missiles to ram his fighters.

  It made sense. Their missiles were dead, anyway, because his fighters were about to destroy their missile ships — so why not take down as many of his fighters as they c
ould? Worse, the enemy missiles were faster than his fighters. 0.7 c was faster than 0.65 c.

  It was a cockshoot. His fighters were dying.

  Worse, because the enemy missiles were faster than his fighters, no matter where his fighters went, the missile followed.

  Even worse, the enemy ships continued firing at his fighters even as they attempted to dodge the incoming missiles.

  A double blow.

  On the holomap, he continued watching as his wings suffered casualties…

  500 fighters gone. Now, 600.

  Damn! Damn it all!

  700.

  And then, finally, the last of the enemy missile swarms died to his fighters’ shipboard plasma cannons.

  Gods, I lost 800 fighters in that missile attack — not to mention the fighters I lost to enemy point defense beams and flak. At least now, my fighters are able to assault the enemy missile fleet… but wait! Are there any missiles left on board those missile ships?

  “Computer, tally up the total amount of missiles launched from the enemy’s missile ships in the past five minutes and compare that to the total amount of estimated missiles the enemy missile ships have on board.”

  “Calculating,” said the computer. “The enemy missile ships still have an average 40% of their missiles stocked.”

  Why didn’t the enemy use up all their missiles???

  They must have wanted to reserve some to shoot at his pulsars.

  “All fighters, continue on target! Bombard the enemy missile ships! Don’t let a single one live!”

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, still on a bombing run, inside the enemy fleet

  “All fighters, continue the attack! The enemy missiles coming after us have all been destroyed! Now — destroy the remaining missile ships!” yelled Trevor on the wing net.

  The amount of people in his wing responding affirmatively was few and sparse. He looked at his Wing Health display and trembled. He had lost half of his wing to the enemy’s missile attack.

  Gods…

  No time to feel distraught, he thought. Gotta take down those missile ships.

  He homed in on them. There were 31 enemy missile ships left at the center of the enemy fleet. He zoomed forward, and within seconds entered bombing range of the targets. He let loose his bombs, and seconds later, missile ship ‘A’ exploded in antimatter fury.

  To his left, right, above, and below, he saw the bombs of the remainder of his wing and other human wings homing in on the enemy’s missile ships at the core of the enemy fleet’s formation…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia

  Yamato watched as the remains of his fighter wings all launched their bombs on the enemy’s remaining missile ships. Nearly all 31 remaining missile ships exploded in gigantic antimatter fireballs.

  Nearly…

  He nodded, at least… his Wings had accomplished their mission.

  As he watched all his remaining wings empty their bombs, he noticed that a few missile ships did survive the inferno. Six… no five…

  Nevertheless, it was the same as having no missile ships left. Five missile ships would not make a difference in the battles to come.

  We did it. We eliminated the enemy’s missile threat!

  Now, it’s all about getting our fighters out of that fleet safely. He studied the holomap and watched as his fighter wings scurried out of the enemy fleet’s point defense envelope. Many fell… because the enemy point defense kept firing as long as his fighters were within range.

  Another 100 fighters went down, then another.

  Yamato looked at the number gauge and realized that, in his second fighter strike, he lost over 1000 fighters out of 2080 that went in…

  This is devastating…

  Mostly because of the enemy’s missile attack. But it had to be done, he supposed. It was either my fighters or my pulsars.

  Was losing an extra 800 fighters worth saving 3 pulsar battlecruisers?

  He tried to think objectively, but couldn’t quite analyze it well.

  Let’s see… A fighter can throw four 500-megaton bombs every 30 minutes. A single pulsar class battlecruiser can shoot a 500-megaton laser blast twice per second.

  The math…

  800 fighters is 3200 500-megaton bombs every 30 minutes. 3 pulsar battlecruisers is 10800 500-megaton blasts on target every 30 minutes.

  It was worth it, then… to lose 800 fighters instead of 3 pulsars.

  But my fighter bombs are much more accurate.

  Yamato shook his head. Can’t over think it.

  Then, as he thought about the general situation, Yamato couldn’t help but grin a little. He was relieved. Well… well… well… looks like the outcome of this battle might be ok after all. We have a decent chance, now that they have much fewer missiles.

  He counted all the ships, both enemy and friendly, on the holomap. The enemy now had 19 battlecruisers, 13 superdreadnoughts, 75 destroyers, 5 Titans, and 5 missile ships.

  Humans still had 3 Pulsar class battlecruisers, 4 Artemis class battlecruisers, 1 superdreadnought, 24 destroyers, and 16 carriers.

  Yamato nodded. While he knew he was still numerically disadvantaged, he was now more confident than ever that he could win… because once the enemy were without missiles, they would have no counter to his pulsar strikes from outside their main energy beam range.

  He watched the map as his bomb-depleted fighters scrambled back towards his fleet.

  Let’s see. 10 minutes to get back to my carriers. 10 minutes to refuel and rearm.

  I might have time for a third fighter strike on the enemy fleet.

  But which parts of that fleet ought I target — now that their missile ships are gone?

  Yamato thought about it, and a solution appeared inside his mind.

  I know what I’ll target. I’m going to hit whatever is at the outside parameter of that sphere. That way, less of the enemy’s ships can fire at my fighter forces with anti-fighter guns… as most of my fighters will release their bombs before they get within anti-fighter weapon’s range of the enemy ships deeper inside that sphere. Thus, I’ll suffer less fighter losses. It’s okay if I only take down enemy screening destroyers in the third sortie, because once they go down, it’ll be easy to target things that are deeper within that ball of ships.

  I’ll just attack whatever is at the outside of that ball.

  Yamato nodded. Yes, that’s what I will do.

  As for now… now that the enemy has suffered a huge loss in missile ships…

  Wait, should I send my pulsars to the front? Are those 5 missile ships still a threat to my pulsars?

  He thought about it for a moment, then he decided. “All pulsars, re-enter maximum weapon’s range and fire you pulsar guns at the enemy ships at the front of their formation! Do not let them gain their maximum beam range on you! Keep the distance! If the enemy attempts to fire any missiles at you, swat them down! We should have enough anti-missile defenses to take down however many missiles those 5 missile ships have left!”

  The enemy made a fatal mistake. They kept 40% of all their missiles reserved inside their missile ships so they could use them in the future on my pulsars, but they didn’t realize that by doing so, they let a lot more of my fighters live, which allowed my fighters to kill more of their missile ships. They wasted 40% of their missiles for nothing!

  All three human Pulsar battlecruisers moved toward the front of the human formation — each pulsar was still sliding backwards at 0.2 c, in coordination with the rest of the human fleet, as well as staying ahead of the enemy fleet, which was moving forward in the same direction at a maximum speed of 0.2 c.

  Once the pulsars reached maximum weapon’s range of the forward-most units of the enemy fleet, the pulsars fired their pulsar guns.

  Multiple equivalents of 500 megatons of TNT in the form of laser energy slammed into the forward units of the enemy fleet. The enemy’s forward sheet was comprised of battlecruisers and superdreadnoughts, all of which took in
the pulsar beams in the face. Holes exploded on their outer armor, and it was just a matter of time before some of them fell.

  The enemy did the only action the enemy could do — what they had been waiting all along to do. They fired whatever remained of their missiles at humanity’s three pulsars.

  3,600 enemy missiles exited from the 5 remaining missile ships and headed towards the human fleet.

  The human fleet was already aligned in missile defense formation. A flat sheet faced the enemy missile swarm, comprised of humanity’s remaining Artemis battlecruisers, pulsar battlecruisers, lone superdreadnought, and destroyers. Each ship fired its anti-missile point defense lasers and flak guns.

  Missile after missile fell to the overwhelming onslaught. Within seconds, the tiny enemy missile swarm was annihilated.

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia

  That’s it. No more missiles. Yamato surmised. Now watch as your ships burn to my pulsar beams!

  He gazed at the clock and the distance between the enemy fleet and Mars on the holomap.

  Twenty more minutes of undivided pulsar attacks before you reach Mars.

  18 minutes later…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, maintaining relative position with the enemy fleet

  An anxious silence existed within the flag bridge. Every officer worked patiently, knowing that time was ticking.

  We killed 2 battlecruisers and 2 superdreadnoughts in the past 20 minutes… just like the computer predicted. That was not bad, but are we killing them fast enough?

  He looked at the holomap at the distance between the enemy fleet and Mars, which was almost nil, and then at the distance between Mars and Earth, which was about 20 light-minutes. He knew he could not save Mars’ orbital manufacturies whatsoever, but the main question was whether he could kill off the entire fleet before they reached Earth.

  Let’s see…

  The enemy has 17 battlecruisers left and 11 superdreadnoughts, 75 destroyers, and 5 Titans.