First Admiral 01 First Admiral

by William J. Benning

  On her Personal View Screen, built into her Command Chair, she could see the great horde of Traing vessels gradually approaching her rough line of Crusaders. The Crusaders were keeping up a steady stream of fire with pulsar-bolts speeding downrange towards their targets. Many of the bolts struck home on the myriad shapes and forms of hulls of Traing craft, which exploded into red roaring flame an instant later.

  Every Traing ship seemed to be of a unique shape and design, which, to Nerla and the other Alliance fighter pilots was a blessing; it made them readily identifiable in the combat area.

  “They’ll overrun this position in less than ninety seconds ma’am!” the Comms Tech and Scanner operator announced his warning.

  “Navigator, reverse thrust,” Nerla ordered, “Comms, order reverse thrust for the flotilla, but keep the formation and keep them firing!”

  “Well, that’s one manoeuvre that isn’t in The Fleet Operations Handbook, ma’am” Skull the skeletal Mithric Navigator said with his broad, toothy and disturbing smile.

  “You’re dead right there, Skull,” Nerla thought. As a Tactical Commander in the field she had the latitude to do as was required to ensure the success of the mission. The great tome of The Fleet Operations Handbook, some several million pages of instructions and tactical procedures, didn’t really cover Nerla’s great strong point: improvisation. This was one of the reasons that the First Admiral had entrusted her with the mission. Nerla could think on her feet and produce creative solutions rather than be a slave to the Handbooks.

  “Take us back fifty thousand kilometres, Navigator, best speed for weapons fire,” Nerla ordered trying her best not to show her anxiety, “and Comms, send that order to the rest of the flotilla, and tell them to keep firing.”

  “Aye ma’am,” came the response from the short stocky, Mibbian in the recessed console to her far right.

  “Fifty thousand kilometres it is ma’am” Skull intoned from The Pit above her Command Chair.

  Meanwhile, on her Personal Tactical View Screen, Nerla could see her line of Crusaders begin a very ragged retreat in the face of the oncoming Traing formation. “At least they’re still firing as they pull back,” Nerla comforted herself, as she watched the vessels maintain the steady rate of fire they had engaged in whilst stationery. The First Admiral must be wondering what’s happening, she began to consider, and thought about making a report to the flagship.

  “…and Comms, copy that last signal to Aquarius,” Nerla ordered, trying not to make it sound like an afterthought, hoping that the First Admiral would understand what she was trying to do.

  “Aye, ma’am” came the crisp military response.

  “Hopefully, the crew didn’t notice that second slip up,” Nerla thought. If the crew had spotted her other error, none of them gave the slightest indication that it bothered them. They were now entirely focussed on their duties.

  Again, the Lionheart was shaken by an enormous THUD as a Traing weapon found its mark on her hull. It took less than a minute for the flotilla to retreat the fifty kilometres and establish a new firing line. As they retreated, the WATO’s aboard the Crusader flotilla kept up the murderous fire that claimed more and more Traing vessels. Firing the pulsar-cannons accurately, whilst moving, against a moving target was quite an achievement for any WATO or gunner in The Fleet. However, for the WATO of a Crusader it was especially difficult given that the changing distance between cannon and target made the calculations for the Tactical Computers that much more difficult.

  “Damage, Engineer?” Nerla asked instinctively.

  “No damage Ma’am,” was the precise military response from the Flight Engineer, “all systems functioning at one hundred percent efficiency,”

  In his Action Station below the level of the main Deck of the Control Cabin floor, Weapons and Tactical Officer, Lentis Bulvass, was entirely focussed on his duties. The six target monitors in front of Lentis swarmed with Traing target craft which flickered and blinked with red outlines as the Tactical Computers calculated the threat potential of each craft as it approached. There were so many of them that the computer would correct itself with higher threat potential readings several times per second. There were just too many targets for Lentis to choose from, or the Computer to engage. In the great planning for this mission no one had factored in the new battle shielding. The old programmes for threat potential calculation were now obsolete as the enemy vessels could not inflict any form of serious damage upon the Alliance Crusaders. The default position of the crews had been that the battle shielding probably wouldn’t work, so the old threat potential programmes were left untouched.

  It was as Lentis Bulvass watched the red blinking outlines that were out of date in terms of data before the WATO could react, and jabbed speculatively at the red fire button on the WATO’s console, that the realisation struck him. It struck him with the same vicious edge of reality as a hard stinging slap on the face. The other Crusaders would be facing the same problem; their Tactical Computers would be confusing the WATO and contradicting their own results due to their obsolete programming. With the untried and unproven Battle Shielding still an unknown, the Crusader captains would not run the risk of disengaging their Tactical Computers. If the new Battle Shielding failed, then the Tactical Computers would become vital and integral systems once again. However, the Battle Shielding had proved successful; making the Tactical Computers obsolete. Most Crusader commanders, however, would not think, in the heat of battle, that they now needed to shut down their Tactical Computers.

  “We need to switch to manual weapons firing, ma’am!” Lentis called from his Action Station.

  “What!? Why!?” Nerla questioned the highly unorthodox request from her otherwise by- the-book, WATO.

  “The Tactical Computers are still calculating threat potential firing solutions for us, whilst we have the new Battle Shielding,” Lentis exclaimed, “the Traing weapons can’t touch us, but the Tactical Computers still think that they can!”

  The harsh realisation of the simplest of errors hit Nerla more like a brutal punch in the stomach. She felt almost physically sick at the realisation. Cursing herself silently for her stupidity, “why didn’t I think of the Threat Potential Programming?” Nerla clenched her fists. It had been her job as flotilla commander to consider all the possible eventualities. At that moment she wondered how the First Admiral developed strategic plans for an entire fleet if a small flotilla was so complex an entity.

  “Go ahead Lentis,” Nerla ordered and added, “Comms, signal flotilla to go to manual weapons firing.”

  Another mistake, Nerla castigated herself; she knew that if she messed up this mission her First Squadron position would be in serious jeopardy.

  Lentis Bulvass on the customised couch seat in his Action Station closed down the low banked semi-circular console with a deft flick of the main control switch. Armoured metal panels drew down from the ceiling of his Action Station to protect the complex electronics and machinery that the WATO used when utilising the Tactical Computers. From below the couch seat a semi-circular flat panel that fitted close to the front of his body whirred into place on the end of an extending telescopic arm. The large flat semi-circular tray of the manual controls turned and twisted through their pre-programmed routine into place at a comfortable angle in front of the tall Corrollian WATO, locking into position with a soft click.

  Calmly, Lentis Bulvass cracked the knuckles on his single jointed fingers and exhaled slowly. With great delicacy he placed his fingers on the six tracker-ball targeting controls. Effectively Bulvass was splitting his attention six ways making split second decisions on six pulsar-cannons as to what were the best opportunities for destroying an enemy target. There were very few species that had that kind of ability; however, Corrollians were some of the best. On a Crusader, the enemy vessel was targeted by a combination of Mind Link technology and eye focus. The WATO would select a target by focusing his or her eyes on the object required on a three-dimensional projected image that wa
s projected above the semi-circular tray of the manual firing controls.

  With the target selected and highlighted, the very thin, ultra-low frequency targeting beam would lock onto the target and be held here by the Targeting Computer linked to the WATO by the Mind Link in his or her Personal Environment Suit. When the WATO operated the trigger mechanism, the pulsar-bolt would follow the track of the targeting beam to the target.

  As the three-dimensional images of the oncoming Traing vessels materialised on the pulsar-cannon scanners, Lentis Bulvass selected six targets for his independently targeting pulsar-cannons. One of the targeted vessels looked like a metallic golden beetle from the front, the flat-based dome cockpit to the front followed by a larger domed fuselage. Another vessel was silver, narrow and slim like a needle with what looked like two bug-eyes on either side of the front spike. The third vessel was light blue and of a saucer design, whilst the fourth was a smaller black and yellow craft with a delta-wing set against a narrow fuselage. The fifth and sixth vessels in his sights were identical, and probably used to raid as a pair. They were small, white arrowheads with the distinctive “V” shaped profile when viewed from above.

  Playing the targeting beams onto his chosen victims, Lentis watched the three-dimensional images of the vessels highlighted and illuminated by his pulsar-cannon targeting beams. The targeting beams were holding as Lentis calmly, and with the softest of smiles, slid his fingers over the firing mechanisms. An instant later, the Lionheart shook, only just perceptibly to the crew, as the six pulsar-cannons unleashed their deadly bolts at the targets selected. To increase his chances of hitting the targets, Lentis fired each cannon twice in rapid succession.

  The twelve deadly, white-hot bolts sped downrange, straight and true, with the shrill SWISH that struck justifiable fear and terror into the enemies of the Universal Alliance.

  It took less than three seconds for the pulsar-cannon bolts to hurtle downrange, borne by the ultra-low frequency targeting beam. However, in those few seconds several of the targeted ships became aware of their imminent demise. The two white arrowheads were struck immediately, having no recognition that they were in any danger, whilst the beetle and the black and yellow delta wing took evasive action that avoided the first bolts aimed at them, only to fall prey to the second a few moments later. The saucer and the bug-eyed needle, probably with more sophisticated scanners, or a more reactive crew, flung themselves into violent contortions of evasive actions that broke the targeting beam at precisely the last moment. The pulsar-bolts failing to hit their targets SWISH-ed disappointedly deep into space, destined to continue their uninterrupted path until their potential energy was expended.

  “That’s more like it!!” Lentis called triumphantly from his Action Station as the first volley of pulsar-cannon bolts sent four more Traing vessels and crews to a fiery oblivion.

  “Good shooting WATO!” Nerla exclaimed, watching the handiwork of her Weapons and Tactical Officer fade from the violent eruptions of their fatal explosions to become yet more space debris in a battlefield already thick with such material.

  On the Tactical View Screen around the edges of the Control Cabin, Nerla could see the Traing symbols begin to vanish far more rapidly than they had previously. Moving over to manual firing had increased the strike rate of her flotilla. The kill rate would increase, and perhaps the Traing would be stopped at this line. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.

  Out in the depths of space, the pursuing Alliance Eagles and Crusaders were gradually catching up with the fleeing Traing lead elements. The running battle that formed the tail of the comma on the First Admiral’s War Table, was creeping closer and closer to Nerla’s new firing line. Like a great predatory beast devouring its fleeing quarry, the Alliance pursuit was overwhelming and destroying larger and larger elements of the scampering Traing formation. The Crusaders of Nerla’s flotilla were taking a much heavier toll of the lead Traing vessels that were outpacing the pursuit with their heavy fire than before. Again they were getting dangerously closer and closer to Nerla’s firing line.

  Anxiously, Nerla watched larger and larger numbers of Traing images vanish from the two-dimensional Tactical View Screen, and also her three-dimensional Personal Tactical View Screen. Once more there were just too many Traing vessels bearing down on her flimsy firing line. To Nerla, it looked very likely that the sheer weight of numbers of the Traing would over run her position and allow hundreds, if not thousands, of the raider craft to scurry back to the safety of the Badlands.

  “It’s too late, there are too many of them, we just can’t hold them, ma’am!” the Corrollian WATO announced as the lead Traing vessels swept forwards to their position.

  Some of them were going to escape she castigated herself. In her mind’s eye she could feel the disapproval of the First Admiral who had trusted her with this mission. There would not be the harsh, brutal stream of obscenities that many of the lesser Fleet Admirals used. It would be the quiet measured words of his disappointment that would sting her deeper than any physical wound. To lose the trust and confidence of the First Admiral would effectively end any career ambitions she may have possessed.

  However, all was not quite lost. Nerla Daelstar had two hundred and fifty Crusader gunships at her disposal, and she resolved that, if necessary, she would chase the Traing survivors all the way back to the Badlands. She could at least thin out their ranks before they vanished completely.

  “Very well, Navigator, back another one hundred thousand kilometres,” Nerla ordered, “Comms, relay the order.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Skull responded calmly, his voice showing no edge to the anxiety he felt.

  One retreat in a battle was bad enough, but two in the same battle was disastrous for anyone who called themselves a First Squadron Commander.

  If Nerla lost the vaunted title, then her crew would also be similarly demoted in status and standing aboard their Supercarrier.

  In an instant the crew felt the motion of the Lionheart breaking her stationery position to retreat yet further. There was an anxious silence in the crew that told Nerla things were not as they should be.

  At that moment Nerla didn’t really consider the mood of the crew as top of her agenda. The unfolding disaster of her mission was now entirely focussing Nerla Daelstar’s attentions and consciousness. Rather than let the Traing vessels overwhelm her position, she had to provide some form of barrier between them and the Badlands, even if it were a purely token psychological barrier. The further away from the pursuing Alliance Eagles and Crusaders she put herself, the greater the gap became through which some of the Traing vessels could squeeze and vanish into their own territory.

  This was cutting it way too close for Nerla’s liking. Luckily, the huge battle in front of the main Alliance formation was coming to an end with the final surrender or destruction of the Traing vessels that were unable to extricate themselves from the fight. Now, more and more Eagles and Crusaders were speeding towards Nerla’s location to join the pursuit. However, they would take precious time to reach this battle. Nerla had to delay the Traing survivors to let the reinforcements reach the battle. She had created an even larger gap between her flotilla and the pursuing Eagles and Crusaders from the main battle.

  “We’ve lost two pulsar-cannons on the port side!” the excited WATO announced, continuing to fire on the advancing Traing ships with the four remaining functional pulsar-cannons.

  “Engineer, sort it out please,” Nerla said calmly doing her best to suppress the urge to scream at the Flight Engineer.

  “Working on it ma’am,” the Flight Engineer replied confidently.

  In his beneath deck Action Station, Stular Vercasse was already viewing the three-dimensional image of the circuit schematics being projected above his console desk. With his fingertips he traced the circuitry image back from the two red flashing images of the pulsar-cannons. To Stular, the rapid three-dimensional journey down the circuit track was quick and simple with his well attuned vis
ion. However, to a human eye it would appear like a speeding train moving through a brightly coloured tunnel with a million myriad branches that could lead to virtually anywhere.

  “Come on, Engineer!” Nerla ordered again nervously watching as the retreating Traing moved ever closer to her fragile and vulnerable firing line.

  “It’s an overload in the discharge mechanism!” Stular announced finding the image of a piece of blue circuitry over the cream coloured background that had been burned and frazzled by the constant firing of the two weapons involved.

  “Well, get it sorted, we need those guns!” Nerla said impatiently.

  Nerla Daelstar knew that with one third of her gunship’s armament out of action Lionheart was a liability to the flotilla. She had to get all of her guns back into action, and quickly.

  “Repairing now, Ma’am,” Stular announced calmly, and drew his hand through the three dimensional image sweeping what looked like black dust on the image onto the damaged area.

  Down in the depths of the Crusader, just below the turret where the malfunctioning pulsar-cannons were housed, hundreds of thousands of microscopic machines swarmed over the damaged circuit and began to work on the repair. In the space of a few moments the tiny machines had cut away the burned area and began to link themselves up to form a new area of circuit board turning from black to cream in colour. Then, the damaged circuitry itself was replaced in exactly the same manner with thousands of microscopic machines forming the new circuit.

  “Testing, now,” Stular announced as the last of the thousands of microscopic machines turned the rich dark blue colour of the circuitry.