Battle of Sol

by Lee Guo

  According to the computer’s predictions using only 3 surviving pulsars instead of the original 5, it will take 3.33 minutes to kill a battlecruiser, 6.66 minutes to kill a superdreadnought, and 13.33 minutes to kill a Titan.

  20 light-minutes from Earth to Mars is about 100 minutes at .2 c, which is their fastest speed.

  Oh… my… gods… will we have enough time to kill all those enemy ships?

  And let’s not forget the randomness involved. The computers estimate of 3.33 minutes to kill a battlecruiser and 6.66 minutes per superdreadnought is an average. Sometimes it takes much less time, or much more, to kill one of them.

  Yamato thought for a while. I don’t know. Even with fighter strikes factored in, we may not to have enough time!

  The most important thing, I suppose, is doing what I can with what I have, and making sure each minute counts. What else can I possibly do???

  And that meant that he had to give the right orders at this very moment.

  He gazed at the holomap, again. The enemy was almost within firing range of Mars, including Mars’s fighter base. He had to give the correct orders — now! He pressed a button. “Yamato to Mars fighter base, transfer your remaining pilots and their fighters to my carriers, and then evacuate the base. I believe my carriers have room at this moment for as many fighters as you have, since we suffered huge losses during the two strikes.”

  “Yes, sir,” said a crisp new voice.

  Yamato closed the channel. Then, he looked at all the construction rings around Mars’s orbit. They were goners. But… he didn’t regret anything. They had been evacuated hours ago, and were lifeless. And they were only 5% of Sol’s manufacturing capacity.

  Next, he scanned his carriers. The indicators above each told him that most of his original fighters had already been fully refueled and rearmed. He pressed another button, opening a channel to his fleet. “All carriers, launch the third fighter strike. Hit the ships at the outer surface of the enemy’s ball. Do not venture into the core of the enemy’s formation. I want as little a loss to our fighters as possible. Continue the tactic of striking the enemy from every side, instead of from only the front. Yamato out.”

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, moving towards the enemy fleet as part of the third strike

  Trevor yawned. I can barely keep my eyes open...

  He sat there, in his cockpit, and suddenly felt a need to shut his eyelids.

  Gods, I’m so tired! I’ve been at this for 10 hours, and it’s real brain work. I don’t know what I’d like more, sex after battle, or some good sack time.

  An idea formed and he acted on it. He pressed a button on his suit and instantly ordered a stim cocktail, and… felt the cool pinch of the injector needle sticking into his back.

  Immediately, his senses became alert once more, and he felt ready to do anything. It was like drinking two liters of coffee.

  Next, he pushed buttons on his keyboard and pulled up the enemy fleet on his map display. He saw the route his wing had been assigned and the target and targets he and his wing were supposed to hit. It was pretty simple… the orders he was given.

  Right. Right. Hit the ones at the outside. Don’t venture deep into the enemy’s core or you’ll get hit by a much larger amount of enemy PD beams.

  Piece of cake.

  Several events happened at once.

  Upon reaching firing distance of Mars orbital structures, all 108 enemy ships fired with whatever weapons they had, blowing out of the sky all 5000~ human objects, both minor and major, orbiting Mars. Massive explosions erupted in the Martian sky, a premonition of what was to come to Earth if the enemy fleet reached the mother world.

  What minor defenses Mars had was not enough to repel the invaders. Mars had only cheaply-producible anti-missile point defense weapons, which was not enough to hurt even the smallest of enemy warships. Within minutes, nothing alive — that was human — orbited Mars. All 7 massive construction docks were now in ruins. Orbital refineries and habitats were now debris. The sole human fighter base orbiting Mars was also now dust and plasma. The dual orbital rings that had provided living space for millions were now falling onto the surface.

  But there was good news. At the same time, all 1100 human fighters reached combat range of the enemy fleet; and instead of trying to penetrate the enemy fleet’s ball, which had been their goal in the first two strikes, the human fighters bombed whatever ships hovered at the surface of their ball. Antimatter bombs slammed into the enemy ships — which were mostly screening destroyers — and the enemy targets exploded…

  And once those went down, future fighter strikes would be able to hit ships deeper within the ball…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, maintaining pulsar-beam distance with the enemy fleet even as they destroyed Mars

  Distance to Earth: 20 light-minutes — ETA: 100 minutes

  I lost only 100 fighters in that strike.Yamato noted. It was an easy strike.

  What wasn’t easy was watching everything we’ve built in Martian orbit in the past three centuries get blown up.

  Devastating… but not as devastating if that enemy fleet gets to Earth.

  Yamato watched sullenly as the enemy fleet “finished” with their objectives, at least where Mars was concerned. Immediately, the holomap showed the enemy fleet breaking away from Martian orbit, each enemy ship now heading in the direction of Earth. The holomap also showed his fleet flying in parallel with the enemy’s — maintaining just a bit of distance outside enemy weapon’s range.

  In a way, Yamato reflected, he thought he had gotten the best of it. The enemy fleet hadn’t even tried to waste firepower or time on the less important Martian surface structures, and there was a lot of it — a lot of potential surface targets went unscathed. This occurred for none other than the fact that the enemy felt — no, knew — that it was crucial to head to Earth as soon as all Martian orbital structures were eliminated. Every second was crucial. Every minute counted. For as long as Earth’s orbital construction docks were still alive, the outcome of the war for both sides was not determined.

  And as long as Yamato could fire at the enemy fleet with his pulsars while maintaining distance outside their main weapons’ range, all of the enemy’s units was in danger of being destroyed — the question was, would they sack earth before that happened, or never?

  Even the enemy didn’t seem to know, and this at least gave Yamato some slight relief.

  Yamato gazed at the distance between Mars and Earth, again. It was a heaven’s send, and possibly the star gods’ mercy, that at this moment in time, Earth and Mars were as far apart with each other as they could be in their orbits around the sun. The distance between Earth and Mars was at its maximum — 20 light-minutes, with the sun smack in the direct center.

  That meant that the enemy had exactly 100 minutes before they reached Earth, providing their maximum speed of .2c didn’t change. And how could it? After all, if they could increase, why hadn’t they increased already?

  Meaning, Yamato had exactly around 100 minutes to destroy all 88 remaining enemy ships before they reached Earth. He had all 3 remaining pulsars as well as 1000 fighters — no, 1400 fighters… if he added the surplus of fighters that had just come from Mars’ fighter base — to do it.

  And, of course, we have a surprise for the enemy. Our surprise is hiding behind our sun, ready to be unleashed when the bad guys pass it, which they have to if they wanted to fly in a straight line towards Earth…

  10 minutes later…

  Wing Commander’s Cockpit, Fighter 001, refueling and rearming aboard the Enterprise

  Distance to Earth: 18 light-minutes — ETA: 90 minutes

  It didn’t even bother him, anymore. He was immune to it. But he could see that it bothered his wingmates. He could hear them on the wing net through his helmet speakers.

  Some were crying, some were in shock, at having lost 50% of their original crew.

  “Guys,” interrupted Trevor on the wing net,
“what’s important is that we did our duty. I understand and I feel for everyone who lost their friends and comrades so quickly and violently, but what’s important is that we accomplished our goal to our homeworld, to humanity — that’s the only way you can rationalize it and come to terms with it.” He hesitated, and then continued, “Sometimes we get dealt a bad hand. Sometimes the enemy traps us and we suffer tremendous losses, but what matters is that we as a collective, as a unit, goes on and continues fighting. If we let our losses get to us, we fall prey to our own conscious and we’ll perform our future actions less optimally. In this war, or any conflict, it’s important to perform our best… at all times.”

  Suddenly, Trevor couldn’t continue speaking anymore. All those people he lost. Grim, Hotshot, Mirage, Rogue, Captain, Maniac, suddenly his memories of them came back to him. Running flight sims with Maniac. Playing cards with Captain. Drilling his greenies and commending them for good marks. He slammed his fist into his consoles, and tears fell down his eyes. They were good people, unique personalities, good friends and his time with them he cherished. And now they were gone.

  No, he couldn’t do that! He had to be strong! He had to show an example and lead his battered newly-acquired supergreenies. But how could he ignore his emotions? How could he stop being human? How could he stop thinking and stop being emotionally traumatized?

  They never taught you this in flight school. They expected you to perform your duty, and not think of what to do when everything went to hell — when you had time to reflect about such a hell.

  “Guys,” said Trevor on the net, trying to keep his voice together, “I guess what I’m saying is that you have to deal with it the best you can, but don’t let it stop you from performing your best when the time comes. We have to sortie out in 5 minutes after all…”

  Some of his wingmates replied with a solem, “yes, sir.” Others simply remained silent.

  There seemed to be nothing more Trevor could do for them. He simply didn’t know how.

  5 minutes later…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, moving towards Earth while shooting the enemy fleet

  Distance to Earth: 17 light-minutes — ETA: 85 minutes

  “All fighters, launch,” ordered Yamato as he gazed at his carrier icons on the holomap.

  Gods, I’m really asking my fighter wings for a lot. How many of my pilots will survive by the time the battle ends? 20%? 10%? At least I’m telling them to bomb the enemy fleet’s outer shell. That will lower their losses per sortie until we start attacking the enemy’s inner core.

  And I’m asking a lot for the entire fleet as well. Really makes me look like an emotionless monster, to be using people like chess pieces in a massive game.

  … But that’s what I have to do in order to win, and win I must, thought Yamato as he ordered, “All fighters, continue the attack on the enemy’s shell. Don’t venture deep into their ball or you’ll suffer greater casualties.”

  Hmm… how many targets can I expect my fighters to take out this time? Maybe another 20 destroyers? Destroyers are easy to take out, after all.

  Suddenly, Yamato felt the need to recount and replay the last fighter sortie in his memory.

  During the enemy’s sacking of Mars, his fighters had went in and killed 18 enemy destroyers and 2 enemy battlecruisers. It had been easily pulled off, and he had suffered losses below his lowest estimations — he only lost 100 fighters.

  So a trade of 100 fighters for 18 destroyers. So this time, I suspect we’ll take out at least as much.

  How does the forecast look, then? Will we make it? Will we be able to take out the entire enemy fleet before they reach Earth?

  Let’s see…

  In the last 15 minutes, his pulsars had killed off another battlecruiser and 2 superdreadnoughts — leaving the enemy with 14 battlecruiser, 9 superdreadnoughts, 57 destroyers, and 5 Titans.

  After the next fighter strike, he guessed the enemy would lose a minimum of another 20 destroyers… and his pulsars would take out at least another 2 superdreadnoughts in those same 10 minutes…

  At this rate…

  We have 85 minutes before the enemy reaches Earth. Our fighters can take out 20 destroyers per sortie — with 30 minutes passing between each sortie. And according to the computer, our 3 pulsars take 3.33 minutes to destroy a battlecruiser, 6.66 minutes per superdreadnought, 13.33 minutes per titan.

  The enemy has 14 battlecruiser, 9 superdreadnoughts, 57 destroyers, and 5 Titans.

  And— we’re not going to make it! At least not based on our current forces alone!

  My gods! Yamato cringed. What have I been thinking all along? Based on fighter strikes and pulsar beams alone, it’s gonna be really and truly hard! And based on these forces alone, the enemy will most likely have plenty left over when they reach Earth!

  I have been a fool all along! — believing that simply because my pulsars have time to shoot at the enemy fleet without getting shot back, that they’ll deplete the enemy’s numbers before they can reach Earth!

  But wait, we do have some assets hiding behind the sun. But will that be enough???

  Suddenly, it looked like the whole universe was against Yamato.

  What do I do?

  According to my math, it would take nearly 160 minutes to totally destroy that enemy fleet using my pulsars and fighters. But we don’t have 160 minutes… we only have 85!

  Yamato continued staring at the holomap, and the distances… and the amount of time…

  Suddenly, he realized — it all came down to how he used his surprise behind the sun…

  Once again, the remaining fighter wings launched another attack on the enemy fleet. This time, it only took 5 minutes for the human fighters to reach the enemy fleet after launching from the human carriers. This time, their numbers were boosted to 1400 due to another surplus of new fighters and pilots from the Mar’s fighter base — up from 1000. Mar’s fighter base might be completely dead, but these fighters were venomous in their desire for revenge.

  Although lacking experience, they still dodged and interweaved through the weak staccato of enemy point defense fire, until they reached their targets, which were at the outside of the enemy fleet’s ball.

  The human fighters sent out their bombs, smashing the outer defenses apart. Another two dozen enemy destroyers fell in the humans’ wake, and so did a single superdreadnought.

  As soon as they came, it was over. The fighters retreated through the same routes they used to enter, and once again, it was up to Sector General Yamato’s task of digesting the information, and making predictions, as well as making needed changes to best serve his race.

  5 minutes later…

  Flag Bridge, Federation Battlecruiser Carpathia, moving towards Earth while shooting the enemy fleet

  Distance to Earth: 15 light-minutes — ETA: 75 minutes

  In the past 10 minutes, his pulsars had killed off another 3 battlecruisers, depleting the enemy down to 24 capital ships if he also included the immobile enemy superdreadnought that would never make it to the battle of Earth. Yamato felt lucky that his fighters had managed to cripple an extra superdreadnought in combination with 24 dead enemy destroyers.

  The bad news? … Was that the enemy fleet was already 25% of the way to Earth.

  Meaning he had just 30 more minutes of pulsar attacks before he was forced to unleash his surprise.

  His surprise…

  It all came down to this:

  Yamato gazed at the holographic representation of the sun, the star that gave birth to mankind. Hidden behind that sun were 30,000 normal ship-killer human missiles on board 32 human missile ship icons — they were there fully due to the orders and intervention of his excellency, the President.

  Just imagine what would have happened had I been able to use these missiles during the wormhole exit battle. I would have stopped the enemy advance cold! Now, I have to feel grateful for having control of them, after being denied control of them!

  Sti
ll, it was a wallop to have. 30,000 missiles at this late stage of battle and it was certain to be a game changer, provided he used them right.

  How will I use them? What is the best way to do ultimate damage to that enemy fleet?

  Yamato thought and thought, and suddenly he found a solution. It occurred to him that the best way was to copy the same strategy he used with his fighters.

  The enemy doesn’t have any missiles, anymore. They used them all… the ones that we didn’t destroy at least. That means, we don’t have to launch our missiles at maximum range in fear of the enemy’s missiles firing at the same time and being able to target our retreating missile ships. Since the enemy doesn’t have any missiles, we can fire our missiles at any range we want, including minimum range.

  Which means… our missiles will have enough stored movement energy to completely encircle and envelope their fleet and simultaneously attack them from every direction… which means that their anti-missile defenses will be forced once again to dilute their lethality and we’ll have much more missile surviving to ram their ships!

  Which means, we’ll take down many more ships!

  I got it! But — will this work to take down all 24 enemy capital ships? I know we don’t have to take all of them down, just most of them, because our pulsars and fighters can finish the rest… but how many can I expect to take down?

  Yamato knew that it took an average of 160 direct-impact missiles to take down an enemy battlecruiser; an average of 480 direct-impact missiles to take down an enemy superdreadnought, and as for the Titans, he had no clue. How many missiles out of his 30,000 surplus should he devote to each enemy target? He also needed to take into account all the missiles that would be swatted down by enemy anti-missile systems. Suddenly, Yamato began the hard work of guessing using past data and his own intuition.

  First, he wanted to factor in the idea that some of his missile hits might become lucky shots, damaging something crucial, but then, as he thought about it, he couldn’t count on lucky shots, so he avoided thinking that way.