“Hold your fire, WATO, wait for it, wait for it,” Billy ordered.
The moment to respond was almost upon them, and Billy began to feel the thrill of anticipation. Soon he would release the awesome firepower of the Alliance on an overconfident and unsuspecting enemy. Excitedly, the scanner technicians counted down the distance of the Bardomil fighters approach from behind them.
“Are the firing solutions programmed?” Billy asked the WATO.
“Yes, sir, ready to fire at your command,” the WATO replied anxiously.
The WATO knew that the First Admiral was not one to be panicked by difficult situations, and awaited the order to fire which would unleash the murderous discharges from the entire vessel.
Now, Billy waited, ready to spring his deadly surprise in his first ever pitched battle in space. He wanted to tear the Bardomil fighter formations to ribbons to reinforce the Alliance’s dominance. Like hunting dogs straining to be let off the leash, the Alliance gunners waited with every nerve and sinew taut, ready to respond to the enemy assault. Billy held them tight on that leash until the optimum moment to respond. Waiting as the Bardomil fighters swept over the Aquarius raking her superstructure with ineffective weapons fire.
Billy would wait until the Bardomil first wave overflew the Aquarius. The first Bardomil wave would continue their strafing runs thinking there was little or no opposition to their attack. Then, when the Harpoons were presenting their unarmed and vulnerable undersides to the Aquarius as they veered away to turn and begin a second strafing run, he would unleash the firepower of the Alliance upon them. With the first wave having made their attack run, the second wave would be close enough, and, perhaps, careless enough, to believe that they would also not be fired upon.
Unaware of the horror that awaited them from the hidden pulsar-cannon turrets of the large alien vessel, the Bardomil first wave swept forwards. With cheers and screams they strafed the huge alien vessel and the smaller fighter craft that seemed to be stationed around the mother ship. In a few seconds they would sweep over the huge streamlined and sleek looking alien ship completely unopposed. To the Bardomil fighter pilots the Aquarius was a truly enormous vessel, the likes of which they had never seen before. It would, however, die in a great cataclysmic victorious explosion for which they would be honoured and glorified throughout the Empire.
As they swept forward, beyond the great alien vessel, from their first attack into the turn, the Bardomil pilots could already see the adulation and applause in their mind’s eye.
Chapter 51
Still holding the Alliance’s firepower under control Billy kept his nerve and held the discipline of the eager, anxious and excited Thexxians. Again and again, the soft dull thudding of Bardomil weapons, bouncing ineffectively from the Force Shielding of Aquarius, was heard in the War Room. The Bardomil fighters had swept in and discharged their weapons at the enormous Alliance Star-Cruiser, expecting the colossal explosion at any moment. They were, however, to be disappointed, many of them fatally. With their weapons discharged and showing the underbelly of their vessels, the first wave of Bardomil fighters began to veer away to allow their colleagues to make their attack runs before beginning their own second attacks from the rear and flanks of the monster alien ship.
“Second wave, in range and opening fire on us,” the scanner technician with the gruff voice announced again.
Within a few moments the raindrops on tin roof sound of the Bardomil weapons fire shattering harmlessly against the force shielding could barely be heard in the War Room.
“First wave is turning, sir,” the WATO announced as every pair of eyes that could see the Tactical View Screen watched for the red triangles of the first wave to make their turn in order to reform for their second strafing run from the flank.
It was classic fighter tactics. First run complete, go back again to provide support for the second wave with a flank attack that would draw the attention and any defensive fire of the enemy.
“They’re going right, sir,” another Scanner Technician announced what everyone within visual sight distance of the Tactical View Screen could already see.
It was at that moment that First Admiral Billy Caudwell sprang his surprise.
“WATO, open fire,” Billy ordered.
It was an order that was executed by the press of a single button on a console deep in the bowels of the huge alien vessel the Bardomil fighters were trying to eliminate. Aboard one hundred and seventy-five Alliance Eagles, within the force shielding of the Aquarius, and in the Self Defence pulsar-cannon turrets of the Star-Cruiser, trigger mechanisms were activated.
In less than a second, over nine hundred, small, pulsar-cannon turrets mushroomed up over the surface of the huge Alliance Star-Cruiser. A few moments later the five hundred turrets on the Star-Cruiser’s left flank, that could be brought to bear, were sending out a savage overwhelming volley of Alliance firepower towards the first wave of Bardomil fighters.
Meanwhile, the Thexxian pilots, in their Eagles, safe behind the protective force shielding of Aquarius sat back and watched the unfolding drama.
Within seconds, the Bardomil fighter pilots of the first wave, still daydreaming of Victory Parades and popular adulation, were smashed into oblivion along with their vessels, the pilots dying in a storm of red, roaring bursts of flame. All of the Self Defence Turrets on the left flank of the Aquarius had opened fire simultaneously sending a great impenetrable sheet of criss-crossing white-hot pulsar-bolts searing into the unprotected underbellies of the Bardomil Harpoons. For the Bardomil pilots, there was no escape from the wall of endless pulsar-bolt fire, which in the space of a few seconds hunted all two hundred and fifty Harpoons down to destruction in a violent savage fury. The skill and courage of the bravest and the most fortunate of the Bardomil pilots counted for little in the great unanswerable blanket of gunfire that was unleashed upon them.
Most of the first wave of Bardomil pilots had been killed before they even realised what was happening. Those that did survive the first salvo barely had time to comprehend the situation, and instinctively react, before they too were snuffed out. A handful of pilots did manage to engage in some form of evasive flying, but the proximity and the sheer weight of fire from the Aquarius simply overwhelmed them. It was all over for the two hundred and fifty pilots of the first wave in less than five seconds.
In five seconds of relentless close range gunfire, the Aquarius’ Self Defence Turrets had flung ten thousand low-yield pulsar-bolts at the Bardomil first attack wave. Billy Caudwell had timed the moment just right. On the View Screen it had appeared just like one of those new video games he had seen back on Earth. One moment the enemy fighters were attacking, the next, one simple push of the button and all of the red icons had simply vanished in a few brief seconds.
“First wave annihilated, sir” a stunned Scanner Technician announced to the shocked, silent War Room.
“Total annihilation?” Billy asked.
“Yes, sir, all two hundred and fifty destroyed, sir,” the Technician responded.
“We are also about to engage the second wave, sir,” the WATO announced drawing Billy back to the reality of the battle.
“Very good, WATO, knock down the second and third waves,” Billy ordered.
A moment later, the guns of the massed Eagles, safe under the umbrella of the Aquarius’ Force Shielding, with the forward Self Defence Turrets, had fired at the second wave of Bardomil Harpoons. However, the greater distance to the second wave meant that fewer vessels fell in the first salvo. The bravest, and most fortunate, of the Bardomil in the second wave at least had a chance of surviving.
Having watched their comrades in the first wave attack, and pass over the huge alien warship, the pilots of the second wave pressed home their attack. Their weapons fire harmlessly struck the force shielding in front of Aquarius, setting up a curtain of flashing lights and explosions which blinded and confused the Alliance Eagle pilots for a few moments. Like a shimmering silver strip curtain in a
cheap nightclub back on Earth, the light of the explosions reflected and danced in front of the Bardomil pilots, obscuring their view of events.
In a dash to support their already fallen comrades, the Bardomil second wave ran straight into the curtain of gunfire from the Alliance Eagles and the Aquarius. The Eagle pilots, safe behind the force shielding watched their own guns and the Self Defence Turrets, tear into the Bardomil second wave. The Bardomil pilots, so confident of victory, suddenly found themselves under the most murderous gunfire that they had ever experienced. In the glorious charge against the huge alien warship, Bardomil pilots suddenly found that comrades all around them were disappearing in the orange and red, flaming blossoms of devastation and destruction. Buffeted by the debris thrown from the explosions of their comrades’ fighters, and, suddenly, surrounded by whizzing and zipping pulsar-bolts streaking past their cockpits, the Bardomil pilots reacted through pure instinct.
With Alliance pulsar-bolts zipping towards them like angry wasps that filled their line of vision, the surviving Bardomil pilots began to violently jink and weave their fighters to avoid the white-hot harbingers of their sudden and fiery deaths. Around them, many of their comrades were not so fortunate or skilful at avoiding the death dealing Alliance pulsar-bolts. Throwing their Harpoon fighters around like ragdolls in the hands of a petulant child, many pilots saw comrades flying next to them disappear in the fiery red death blooms from the corner of their eyes. There was no time to concentrate on those who had already fallen. There was only time to focus on the bright white lights that streaked towards them from the Alliance Star-Cruiser, filling their field of vision for a fraction of a second and hoping that they could guess right in trying to avoid them. And, to keep firing as their Fighter Controllers were ordering them to.
“Do we have new firing solutions for the second and third waves, WATO?” Billy asked.
“Yes, sir,” the WATO responded, “we should destroy the second wave in around thirty seconds, with the third wave being destroyed at one minute fifteen seconds,” the WATO responded matter-of-factly.
The Alliance pilots, behind the force shielding, screamed their joy and delight into the Communications Network as they watched their enemies perish in front of them. The great stream of white-hot pulsar-bolts began to wreak a dreadful toll amongst the onrushing, unprotected Bardomil.
Behind the great flashing, boiling, thunderous curtain of weapons fire that blinded them, the Eagle pilots, safely tucked into their cockpits, felt their Eagles shudder and lurch beneath them as their pulsar-cannons were fired.
The computer-coordinated low-yield pulsar-cannons spoke death and destruction to the enemy behind the flashing, dazzling curtain of light and violence. Aboard the Aquarius, the Scanner Technicians and officers in the War Room could see what was happening all too clearly.
“Keep them firing at the second attack wave!” Billy Caudwell ordered as the deep red and orange death blooms of the second wave of Bardomil Harpoons lit up the image on the Real View mode of the View Screens.
In less than a minute, under the murderous Alliance gunfire, the second wave of Bardomil Harpoons had been badly mauled, but the survivors were brave and were pressing home their attack. Again and again the Self Defence Turrets spat their pairs of white-hot pulsar-cannon bolts, four shots every second, at the courageous enemy. Whilst the six pulsar-cannons aboard each Eagle hammered pulsar-cannon bolts at the rapid-fire rate of five per second. The great curtain of weapons fire smashed savagely into the hulls of the attacking Bardomil Harpoons.
“The second wave is starting to fragment, sir,” the WATO announced, drawing Billy’s attention back to the Graphic mode image on the Tactical View Screens.
“Enemy casualties?” Billy asked.
“We have eliminated eighty-seven Harpoons from the second wave, plus sixty-three Harpoons and forty-nine Flying Devils from the third wave, sir” a Scanner Officer reported.
“Concentrate more fire on those Flying Devils,” Billy ordered with an edge of anxiety to his voice.
The larger Flying Devils were not falling in so great a number as were their Harpoon comrades. And, Billy realised, that with enough of the dangerous larger fighters surviving the approach, they could make an attack on Aquarius.
On the View Screen, Billy could see that the heavy losses inflicted upon the second wave had created large gaps in the formation. With every passing moment, more of the red triangles simply vanished from the View Screen indicating another enemy vessel destroyed. In the first minutes of the battle the Alliance had wiped out almost one half of the attackers. The Thexxians in the War Room of Aquarius watched in stunned silence at the sheer violence of the Alliance response. A great sheet of white-hot pulsar-cannon bolts had been flung at the Bardomil fighters in less than a minute of brutal combat.
The second wave of Bardomil fighters was being savagely mauled.
One moment they were hurtling into the attack to follow their comrades of the first wave, firing their weapons into the great flashing and boiling curtain of destruction they thought they were wreaking aboard the huge alien vessel, and the next a terrifying salvo of weapons fire was being returned onto them. A huge, terrifyingly savage bombardment of white–hot pulsar-bolts had slashed downrange from the Aquarius and into the unsighted and totally unprepared Bardomil Harpoons.
The Bardomil pilots of the second wave had, however, been more fortunate than their first wave comrades. Having opened fire at the optimum moment to eliminate the first wave, the second wave had been too far distant from the Aquarius to receive the kind of overwhelming weapons fire that had massacred the first wave. At close range the Self Defence Turrets could sweep away anything in their path. At longer range the sheer volume of fire was not matched by any accuracy. The sheer volume and naked ferocity of the Alliance fire stunned many of the surviving Bardomil pilots into those horrifying moments of inaction that were to prove fatal. Seeing so many of their comrades cut down in a few moments left even more of the Bardomil pilots vulnerable. The great hail of Alliance pulsar-cannon fire that came seething out from behind the curtain of pyrotechnics did not take long to seek them out and destroy them.
With just over half their number destroyed before they realised it, the bravest of the Bardomil pilots resolved to press on their attack. They were already committed to the attack run, and had no alternative other than to try to complete it. The next twenty seconds saw the remains of the second wave of Bardomil fighters begin to weave and dart through the near impenetrable curtain of Alliance gunfire. They pressed on gallantly through the curtain of weapons fire pouring yet more and more useless fire into the huge alien vessel, to no effect. They flinched and winced in their cockpits as they ran the gauntlet of death set down by the huge alien craft amongst the explosions of their dying comrades.
But, all of the gallantry of the Bardomil pilots was to no avail against the savagery of the Alliance gunfire.
“Sir, some of the enemy ships are turning away,” a Scanner Officer called out the first sign of the Bardomil retreat.
Billy scrutinised the two-dimensional Graphic mode of his View Screen and saw that the first of the Harpoons were beginning to peel away from the attack run. Sometimes, discretion was the better part of valour. Within seconds, the rest of the formation including the dangerous Flying Devils, were also turning away.
“Sir, the final wave is also turning away,” the Scanner Officer added, drawing Billy’s attention to the third wave, which although relatively undamaged, was starting to turn as their comrades had already done.
The Bardomil pilots now realised that the first wave had vanished in a few heartbeats, and many of their own had simply been wiped out of existence.
No Bardomil formation had ever received such a mauling since the early days of the first Thexxian War, and that was over twenty years ago.
“They’re turning back, sir!” an excited scanner technician called out what was obvious from the Tactical View Screen.
A moment later the War Room
erupted into cheering and applause. This was it. This was the first time most of these Thexxians had seen an entire Bardomil attack turn tail and run. Many of the officers and technicians stood and applauded, some hugged each other, many made rude gestures to the Tactical View Screen and called out to their beaten enemies. It was pandemonium in the War Room.
“Get back to your posts!” Billy Caudwell’s booming voice yelled into the Internal Address system.
Despite the experience and training of the Thexxian military, the excitement of a major victory over the Bardomil caused a massive breakdown in discipline.
“Get back to your posts, they’re not finished yet!!” Billy’s voice boomed through the jubilant War Room.
Even as he was yelling at the elated Thexxians, the few survivors of the second wave were starting to turn away from the attack vector.
“The next person to beak discipline will be court martialed,” Billy threatened.
The War Room fell silent in an instant. Sheepishly, they returned to their posts and resumed their duties. Fortunately, the weapons systems were being fired automatically by the Tactical Computers. This meant that the Bardomil were still receiving fire and sustaining losses as they fled.
On the Tactical View Screen, the surviving red triangles of the second and third waves were heading back in the direction of the Fighter Carriers.
“WATO, cease fire on the Self Defence Turrets, and turn the Eagles loose,” Billy ordered, stifling his anger at the indiscipline in the War Room.
Billy was also angry at the Bardomil third wave. He had wanted to thin down their numbers, or wipe them out, before the next phase of the battle. Now, there would be around three hundred fighters aboard their Carriers to give them close protection.
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