Free Fleet Box Set 2

by Michael Chatfield

  “Yes sir,”

  Now we wait. I thought as I opened a channel to Henry.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “Just hurrying up and waiting,” he sighed as I grinned.

  “Some commanders huh?” I said.

  “Some commanders,” he agreed, laughing.

  “At least you don't have to deal with Edwards anymore,” he said.

  “That is one good thing,” I agreed. I'd had him go with Rick, and after going through the headlong charge through the Syndicate Fleet he'd become somewhat more subdued, though I doubted it would last for long. No doubt the report he’d make for Earth would damn me for my actions.

  “Now I just have to deal with reporters,” I growled.

  “Oh what a shame,” Henry said, his voice not apologetic at all.

  “I know you wish you were giving a one on one interview with Ms. Sparks,” I leered, it was no secret that he had for some reason fallen for the petite reporter.

  “Ah well, with freedom of the press you told us that we should be available for comments whenever possible,” he said as I laughed.

  “And if said interview was to take place over dinner, maybe with a movie afterwards, one must do whatever they can to inform the people under the protection of the Free Fleet,” I replied in a mock serious voice.

  “But of course,” Henry smiled, barely stopping himself from laughing.

  “What would Evelyn say if I told her you thought of your interactions as interviews?”

  “Well we've known each other for a long time, ole buddy. I should think that such a comment should remain as more of a you-didn't-hear-anything, kind of statement,”

  “But of course,” I said as he laughed.

  “Well, I'm gonna go check on the Commandos and make sure they aren't pressing any buttons they aren't supposed to,”

  “Yeah, I heard about team member Genatti.” She'd pressed a button thinking it was a light switch. Little did she know it was a shut off for the gravity plates for the area she was in. The area had a gym, mess and a handful of bathrooms. People, food, liquids, chairs and tables all started floating and, as Genatti pressed it again, moments later, everything that had started floating came crashing back down. One Avar even broke the toilet he was sitting on when he came back down.

  “Just classic,” Henry laughed and I joined him.

  “There was one Kuruvian who was playing basketball in the gym. He went for a slam dunk and ended up in the rafters. Took an hour to get him down,” Rick marvelled as I laughed at the image of the Kuruvian's panic when he missed the net and kept going upwards.

  “Talk later, commander,” he said.

  “Henry,” I replied by way of goodbye as I cut the channel, a grin on my face as I thought about the reports I'd gotten about the incident.

  ***

  Come on baby, just stay together, we're right there, Bregend thought, trying to project an aura of calm as he felt sweat trickle down his back. The Rebirth had undergone some ad-hoc fixes as he jumped from system to system with her broken main supports.

  Rous her engineer had used towing cables to take some of the strain off the super structure. Mechas and EVA suits were now mandatory and everything was checked to make sure it was secured more than usual, as Rebirth could crack with any great strain. armor panelling had been tacked onto the worst sections. If Psycho Cheerleader was in a battle then Rebirth would be screwed.

  “I can see the event horizon,” Jamzie the sensors tech said in her nasally voice. Wilma grunted her acknowledgement and everyone started to pray to whoever they believed in. Or grabbed their knees, tilted their head, and kissed their asses’ goodbye.

  “Stowing sails,” Wilma said as the gossamer like membranes retracted.

  “We're ready,” Mills said, her voice calm and collected as Wilma glided towards the event horizon. Afnar on shields flexed his hands, no doubt wishing he could be doing his job instead of just sitting there. I feel your pain, Bregend silently acknowledged to Afnar as he sat in his command chair. He'd decided to not have shields configured upon exit of the wormhole. When done correctly it was barely felt, but if not then the ship was in for some rough bucking, and Bregend was not going to risk that.

  “Exiting horizon,” Wilma said.

  This is it.

  Bregend braced himself as Rebirth slid through the event horizon with barely shake. Bregend hid his nervous sigh as the plot updated with the latest map of the system they’d just entered that Cheerleader had sent weeks ago.

  “No sensor Buoys in the area,” Jamzie announced. Bregend nodded. That was one issue with choosing anywhere in the wormhole limit to enter a system. It gave you the element of surprise, but if you had sensor buoys there you could know where everything was within seconds.

  “Full power for the sensors,” Bregend said, knowing how vulnerable and visible that would make the Rebirth. “Afnar, you may configure your shields,”

  “Sir,” he said as he and his crew began accommodating for the system’s interference with the shield projectors, and equalized it to get full coverage.

  Twenty minutes later Jamzie had something.

  “I have a ship that's jumped into the system,” she said as the contact lit up like a Christmas tree on the plot.

  “Kyle, use communications codes and verify that ship is ours,” Bregend said as the kid got to work.

  More contacts littered the plot as the sensors collected more information.

  “Codes verified it's one of ours,”

  “Send them the message,” Bregend said, referring to the pre-recorded message that contained all of the information on what was going on in Parnmal.

  “Helm take us in, no sense in waiting out here anymore,” Bregend said as Wilma applied thrust, guiding the Battle Cruiser to the fourth planet in the system, a gas giant rich in raw fuel and where Cheerleader said she'd be based while scouting the surrounding systems.

  Chapter - It Always Starts with a Bang

  The syndicate Fleet had been within Parnmal's PRC's range for ten minutes now. They were blasting away at Parnmal's shields, but with little to no effect. The shields were too strong and they hadn't used one missile yet.

  “Cruisers, Battle Cruiser and Dreadnought's first,” I said and Realem grunted in acknowledgement. His eyes were locked on his displays as he passed on my orders to his people in short terse sentences, PRC's aim and missile's priorities changed. I sipped my water tube as I tapped my fingers. “Keep explosions going on over Parnmal. Realem fire at will,”

  “All batteries fire on preselected targets!” Realem said as he personally sent the launch signal to the missile tubes across Parnmal.

  The Syndicate Fleet launched all of their missiles. They fired their engines at full power to slow down before the missiles got there. They knew they'd get one chance to take Parnmal. The missiles charged into the Syndicate's shields, but Parnmal was much bigger than any known ship, and had the capabilities of seven Dreadnought's in the number of missiles it could launch in one go, and it had massive magazines.

  They fired close to six hundred missiles at us as we sent four hundred back. The power directed at one area was enough to shut down a planetary shield generator, but it was quickly covered by other generators of adjoining areas. Thirteen of our missiles made it through the lapse and split off into independent war heads. Our missiles which had already split hit their targets. Half of them had been destroyed by PDS fire, a third missed, and the remaining fifth was spread across the fleet.

  Corvettes disappeared, shields spotted and fell, and two Battle Cruisers were left in sections no bigger than a shoe. Parnmal rocked as five of our thirteen missiles warheads struck home. Parnmal's PDS wasn't as good as the Fleets, but she could take more of a pounding.

  Felix whooped as PRC rounds hit the Fleet.

  “Firing second Barrage,” Realem said as I was surveying the damage caused by the PRC's new rounds.

  Most gunners had gone for the directed shotgun like setting. I watched
in shock as I looked to Felix.

  “Up the explosive power much?” I asked, getting a shrug and a smile in response.

  “Plasma's always more effective!” he said. He'd upped the explosive charge in the rounds, added a gaseous core and a high frequency laser. Now the round became a cloud of high speed super dense shards, and a ball of plasma. I heard the syndicate's Plasma cannons fire. I had removed that weapon from the fleet ships. They took a ton of power, and were only good in passing engagements as plasma's energy quickly dissipated. The plasma did little against shields, but the kinetic energy imparted on it caused them to flash with hits. Plasma against armor, cut like a hot knife.

  Cruisers had some serious PDS, but that was little use against PRC rounds. There was still more of them than I would like, but there was some serious holes in the syndicate formation, if you could call it a formation.

  “They're flushing magazines,” Realem said as PRC's whuthump's of firing could be heard in the command centre.

  There was little I could do now. I knew people would fight at their stations as long as they possibly could and the syndicate were able to launch their missiles moments before Parnmal's landed.

  “PRC's on PD setting one,” I said as Realem barked the orders to his gunners. “Shields I want that generator back online.”

  “Sir, we have crews working to reset and replace breakers,” Shields replied.

  “Good work.” Having people willing to sort their own shit instead of waiting for me to tell them to do so was always a positive in my mind.

  We traded missiles, ours crashing into the Syndicate ships, theirs coming at our PRC platforms and batteries.

  Syndicate shields blackened with the nuclear tidal wave, many weren't able to stop all of the missiles. Ships were ripped apart, atmosphere and personnel being thrown into vacuum, other ships exploded, or went dead as they flushed their power plants. Yet the ships behind them kept going. They passed their comrades eager to close with our weakened station.

  As the ship's ran through a sea of nuclear waves, Planetary Rail Cannons and PDS fired their stage one rounds, filling the space around Parnmal with shards of metal, waiting to catch the incoming missiles.

  Even with that mass of fire missiles plowed through, into shields. The shields flashed from the sudden tide of energy which smashed into them. They took hit after hit, there was no time for them to recover and the shield's energy levels dropped rapidly.

  “We have failing shields across the dark side!” A Shield operator yelled out, talking about the side facing away from Parnmal's sun.

  I gritted my teeth as sections of Parnmal disappeared and holes appeared in our additional armor. The Syndicate fired at everything and anything that was exposed closing in on Parnmal to get their troops down and avoid the crossfire of Parnmal's cannons.

  PRC's quickly found themselves under fire as the Syndicate forces took their revenge. Gunners changed flicked from stage one to stage two, their rounds staying together and smashing into shields and through any un-shielded ships, or ships smaller than a Battle Cruiser.

  Those rounds gutted ships the Syndicate only getting to the surface by using their fellow ships as cover.

  “Henry, you're up,” I broke into his channel as he greened up and closed the circuit.

  Missile batteries fell silent as hitting the Syndicate ships now would hurt Parnmal too.

  Corvette's used their speed to their advantage now as they ran around Parnmal's exterior, dropping off their Mecha's and pounding the slow moving PRC's.

  “PDS on those Corvettes,” I said as hundreds of Gatling guns updated with Felix's rounds fired. These weapons weren’t yet on AI but with Resilient’s help we'd created a system that could fire these weapons with enough coordination that no two guns were firing on the same target.

  Millions of rounds were let loose as they fired rounds set to stage two as well. They hit, exploding the damage quickly mounting as armor was torn into.

  “Min Hae,” I said, nodding, and as he began typing on his console his dormant virus became active in every communications system it dug its way into. Entire ships were unable to even communicate to different sections of their vessels, let alone others. Companies of Mecha's were left with nothing but their thoughts as the ships they were in landed on Parnmal.

  Grade A cluster fuck. I thought as it was clear the syndicate was having dire issues. Corvettes settled onto the surface as they too were getting pounded.

  “PDS with no ships but mechas in their area are to engage the mechas,” I said coldly, knowing full well the damage that would be wrought by the high powered lasers and the accelerated solid state rounds, especially if they were Mechas.

  ***

  Sergeant Falesh had seen some battles in his time. He'd been on planetary take overs, station battle and ship to ship engagements. Yet the sight before him was unlike anything he'd seen before. It reminded him of the battles his mentor had told him about during the dying throes of the PDF.

  Whoever these people are, they're good. He thought with cold recognition as he crawled across Parnmal's surface, finding a crater barely large enough for him. Mecha's around him were cut down by a silent hail storm of metal. He activated a plasma grenade and threw it at where his wire overlaid visor said the weapon emplacement was. There was no sound but his grenade registered as having gone off. He peeked over the edge of the crater, finding a weird weapon system pointing right at him. This is it, he though, but the weapon failed to fire and he saw his plasma grenade had melted through the weapons control circuits.

  “We've got a lot more ground to cover,” he barked at his men as none of them did anything. He would need a stiff drink after all this he thought, he stopped his hand shaking by squeezing his railgun harder and standing up.

  “Waiting to die in those holes are you?” he growled as he began running forward, using other craters as cover. A few started following, then more and more until he saw that the remains of his company were either following. Or too useless to.

  Nearly there. He thought as his wire overlay showed an upcoming air lock.

  Shit. He dropped to the ground.

  “PDS up ahead!” he yelled as mechas kept running, straight into the PDS' line of sight and it began raining hell onto them. Some that had gotten too confident, or were being controlled by their fear couldn't stop their motion in microgravity.

  “Get down you idiots!” he said as chaos ensued, some seeing their counterparts dropping and getting into cover, while others kept pushing forward.

  It's like they can't hear me, he growled as his mind cleared and he ran a check on his communications gear.

  “The hell? I didn't put it on that band,” he growled as he reset the comms gear, his ears filled with others yelling and screaming. He was about to speak when it went silent again. He checked his gear again, finding it right back on the previous channel. They got a virus into our gear, he thought as cold fear passed through his body. Not having communications with his people reduced their effectiveness considerably. His people were dying because they didn't know where weapon emplacements were.

  He went to his settings and did a hard reset on his comms.

  “The comms gear is messed up, do a hard reset!” He yelled over the yelling and screaming. He said it a few more times before he put in the channel for his company. His HUD showed who was connected to the channel, as well as those who hadn't survived.

  It's a massacre, he thought.

  “Alright, Reshna company break it down into squads, sit rep,” he said, his people's yelling fading away into nothing as squad leaders started reporting their status.

  “Alright, everyone do a hard reset on yours comms. We need to make sure that we don't lose communications again,” His people did it, a strange thing for those in the mecha corps to actually listen to orders. Surviving makes some listen, he thought as he checked the table of command, seeing that most of his officers had gone and gotten themselves killed.

  “Alright, link up. We need to g
et into the station still,” he said, but as he put together squads, a Corvette ripped past. The PDS took out its shields as it replied with railguns, and Falesh clamped onto Parnmal as the ground shook.

  “Move to this airlock by squads,” Falesh said, highlighting the closest airlock.

  “Low and slow, these PDS turrets are everywhere,” he said as he took his own advice, keeping low enough that he could drop to the ground in a second.

  He got to the airlock in decent time and when he checked it, it registered as operable. Someone pushed him off. Falesh was sent spinning as he shot a line out to Parnmal.

  “I'm going to rip your head off you little shit,” he growled.

  “What was that sarge?” someone asked on his channel.

  “Nothing,” he growled back, no one had any follow up questions. Falesh was ten meters from the airlock, the bastard was going to pay for almost sending him into the dark. He opened the airlock and was shot back because he hadn't depressurized the interior. The Air erupted from inside the station and spread apart in different directions. The son of a bitch was launched into space, stuck in perpetual free fall.

  Falesh pulled himself slowly back towards the airlock as another mecha stepped into the chamber. Explosives went off and the mecha and three others behind it were ripped apart and blasted into the dark.

  “The airlocks are booby trapped,” he said over his company channel as he used his remote cameras to look into the destroyed remains of the airlock, the inside was solid rock.

  “They blocked off airlocks too,” he said as he turned to the next nearest airlock and set off again.

  “Go to your closest airlock and see if you can find one that isn't booby trapped or fake,” This is going to be a long day.

  Chapter Best Laid Plans

  There were close to three hundred thousand mechas scrambling over Parnmal.

  “Looks like they did at least have some pre-planning,” Henry said.