by Nick Cole
Off Tarrago Moon
0217 Local System Time
Admiral Bula spun about as the bridge began to collapse all around him. Concentrated fire from the three “enemy” destroyers was tearing his ship apart. He had no hope against a pair of Republic destroyers and one super-destroyer. Klaxons sounded as a catastrophic collision alert horn bellowed across all decks, alerting crewmembers to secure themselves and brace for collision.
A moment before the ceiling collapsed in on the command deck, Admiral Bula’s yeoman dragged him into the corridor beyond the blast door that sealed the dying and the dead on the bridge. Fire control teams raced past them to rescue and repair what they could.
“Are the fighters away?” gasped the admiral, his mind reeling.
The yeoman nodded as he urged the admiral down the passage to the next blast door.
“Tell Commander Luq to clear a path for Audacity to jump. At all costs,” coughed the admiral. “He must clear a path for that corvette to get through!”
How could this have happened? Those three destroyers were Republic ships. Ships he knew. All assigned to Admiral Devers’s Third Fleet battle group.
Carramo reeled to port as the sound of two hulls colliding tore through his ship. Bula and his yeoman went sprawling.
The prow of the destroyer Triumph had ripped away the forward command structure of the flagship, exposing all decks forward of the third bulkhead to deep space—those these were details Bula would never know in this life.
He watched in horror as far down the central passage leading away from the bridge, blast doors began to iris shut. The howl and scream of venting oxygen shrieked in his ears.
And still, his last thoughts were… how had this happened?
First Squadron, “Gray Wolves”
Assigned to Republic Cruiser Carramo
Above Tarrago
0217 Local System Time
Squadron Commander Luq pulled up hard on the flight stick to thread the narrow gap created by the two destroyers smashing into one another. A moment later the forward command structure on the Carramo tore away, and internal explosions blossomed across all decks.
There were no enemy fighters to deal with. Just massive ships engaged in close-range volley-fire as waist gunners targeted enemy batteries in vicious broadsides. How one ship had managed to collide with the other would remain a mystery. But such things happened when ships fought at broadsides.
Three of the sector defense auxiliary corvettes had already gone down in the atmo. Another one was on fire and burning in. Escape pods were ejecting in all directions.
Bad day, thought Luq as a ship flared and exploded, illuminating his cockpit in a bright flash. He checked local radar and searched for Audacity’s transponder image. Of his squadron, only three Wolves had made it off the Carramo.
Three Raptors against the one remaining rebel destroyer.
Bad day, he thought again and cranked his head around to make sure both his wingmen were on station.
“Wolf Squadron Leader to Wolf Squadron… Form up on the Audacity… she’s coming through now. Her jump window is marked in your HUDs. Let’s try to give her enough room to get out of here, kids.”
The hammerhead corvette surfaced from the atmosphere surrounding Tarrago Prime and went to full thrust. Luq crossed her beam and rolled off to port. She looked fine—no apparent damage.
“Captain of Audacity… this is Wolf Squadron Leader. We’ll get you to the jump. Maintain course and heading. Keep your speed up.”
“Roger that, Squadron Leader. Starting our jump solution now. Sensors indicate interceptors inbound.”
“We’ll take care of that,” replied Wolf Squadron Leader. He increased to full throttle to get out in front of the slower-moving big ship.
Up ahead, a group of three-deflector-shielded fighters swarmed toward him like a nightmare of banshees suddenly howling out of the nether of space.
Bad day, thought Luq again.
Bridge of the Corvette Audacity
Above Tarrago Prime, Heading to Jump
0219 Local System Time
“Got a jump solution… feeding it to helm now,” announced the navigator. His voice was calm, but Desaix could hear the fear. “Gonna be tricky. That destroyer’s moving in to intercept us. She gets in the way…”
Holding on to the crash bars on the ceiling with one hand, Desaix reached down with the other and patted the kid on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Mr. Taun. We’ve been in worse before.”
Ahead, three of the slick Raptor interceptors, the latest acquisition in the Repub Navy’s fighter arsenal, streaked forward, engines glowing like the fires of hell. Their hulls were Repub white and streaked with unit gray.
“Contact!” yelled someone back in sensors.
“Talk to me,” ordered Desaix as he watched the pilot set a course to the jump. From the corner of his eye he kept an eye on the damage control panel. It was lit up like Christmas tree. Much of it because of the unfinished refit.
“Multiples… fast movers inbound for intercept. They came out of deep space. They’re trying to cut us off.”
Desaix leaned down and scanned near-space out the bridge window. In the distance he could see a swarm of fighter-like craft inbound and moving fast. Faster than he’d seen any fighter move before.
“Time to jump?” he asked.
“Two minutes, thirty-seven seconds,” came the reply.
First Squadron, “Gray Wolves”
Republic Cruiser Carramo
Above Tarrago
0219 Local System Time
“Jasings, Merca, lock foils into attack position and prepare to engage. Break up and take on as many as you can. We’ll try to distract them from focusing on the corvette!”
A second later he got replies from both.
“Can do, Wolf Leader.”
“Good hunting, Wolf Leader.”
Luq’s HUD was highlighting at least twelve interceptors. Not great odds by the longest of shots. Whoever these guys were, they had some kind of military training. They weren’t just pirates or MCR rebels.
He set the foils on the Raptor to attack position, visually confirming that both his wingmen had done the same. Now the forward-swept wings of the arrow shaped fighter had retracted to the rear, allowing the wing-mounted blasters more range and target coverage.
“OU7,” said Luq over internal comm.
His onboard bot beeped and clicked in the affirmative.
“Jam their comm and try to detect any loose signal we can hack our way into. If you do… run an HK on their deflector shields. That might make things a little more even.”
The bot crooned a high eight-bit melody whose inherent melancholy assured the squadron leader this would not be as easy as requested.
“Gotta try, little guy.”
The bot did not like being called “little guy.”
Two seconds later, the wave of odd-shaped fighters came at them like the rushing tentacles of a tyranasquid. One second all was the deep dark velvet of space, and the next, enemy fighters were everywhere. Luq yanked the Raptor around hard and tried to pick up one of the enemy fighters. As soon as he had a brief sight picture as he squeezed off a series of blaster shots. Two went wide, and one struck one of the deflectors. The craft shook from the impact and sped off. Luq dove after it, never mind he had two on his tail, according to the bot.
“Pop chaff pods now!” he ordered the bot.
He caught a glimpse of Merca smoking one of the enemy fighters. The kid landed solid hits until the thing came apart. Two more swooped in on his tail, and he dove away.
Luq let go of the fighter he was chasing and maneuvered in to save Merca. Both enemy fighters were unloading with full blasters on the kid, dancing all across Merca’s rear deflectors.
“Hold your course for two seconds, Wolf Three… I’m on ’em.”
He passed across their pursuit axis, blasters blazing. He landed hits on the first and caused it to break formation. Then he backed off his throt
tle and fell in behind the remaining pursuer. A moment later he was shooting into the central pod’s engines. It exploded, sending deflectors and explosive gas-propelled debris in every direction.
OU7 whooped with eight-bit joy.
“Never mind that! Get me into their systems.”
“Three of them have broken off… they’re going for the corvette!” announced Wolf Two.
House of Reason, Security Council Chambers
Utopion
“I’d like to thank you all for being here.” Orrin Kaar nodded at each of the five other members of the powerful Republic Security Council. He stopped at Delegate A’lill’n and proffered a smile. “And special thanks goes to Delegate A’lill’n for arranging this meeting on such short notice.”
“Thank you, Delegate Kaar,” A’lill’n said. “We have Senator Jasu Hendrexyln observing over holocomm, as well as Legion Commander Keller from the Mercutio.”
“Good,” Kaar said. “Our purpose for this meeting is to determine the necessary response to the unfolding developments around Tarrago Prime.”
Kaar turned to Delegate Tye, a senior member who oversaw Republic intelligence. “What does Nether Ops have to say on the matter?”
Tye shook her head slowly. “Nothing officially. It’s possible some agents were following this development, but none reported an imminent threat. They have no assessment, and agents in or around the Tarrago system are currently unreachable.”
“I’m afraid that’s true of all comm traffic to Tarrago,” Kaar said, adding a touch of sadness to his face. “The comm relay seems to have been disrupted.”
A junior delegate stood up in surprise. “But how—”
Kaar gently cut the man off. “We don’t know. The comm relay is supposed to have such redundancy as to make this impossible. We have a clever enemy.”
“So you believe this is the work of the Mid-Core Rebellion?” Senator Hendrexyln said through his holocomm.
Kaar gave a half smile. “I believe it is an enemy of the Republic. But I would caution against blaming this on the MCR. I received a comm transmission from one of our finest appointees, Admiral Devers.”
The other council members leaned forward. “What did it say?”
“It is meant for this council only, though I think with your approval, the Senate and Legion Commander Keller should be privy to the message as well.”
Consensus made it so, and Kaar played the message the admiral had recorded for the benefit of those in power on Utopion.
“Delegate Kaar, honored council,” Devers began. The klaxons and frantic scurrying around the bridge where the admiral recorded his message made it clear that Devers’s ship was engaging in battle. “I don’t have much time. I was performing training exercises when I received a distress call from Fortress Omicron. I jumped into the system and discovered that Tarrago’s defense fleet was firing upon the orbital moon, and Tarrago Prime security forces had seized the shipyard.”
“On Unity Day!” bellowed a delegate. She slammed her fist on the table, the audacity of an attack on such a day was apparently too much for the House of Reason member to cope with.
“I maneuvered three of my ships between the defense fleet and the moon in an attempt to protect the legionnaires stationed at Omicron. It looks like a ground assault has also been initiated on Tarrago Moon, and I am scrambling my shipboard soldiers and marines to reinforce the company stationed at Omicron. By all appearances, the attacks are coming from Republic-made ships and are being carried out by Republic soldiers. I’m unable to raise the Seventh Fleet, but if you reach Admiral Landoo, advise her to find my flagship and form up on my command. The enemy has a considerable advantage given the—”
The holo shorted out, ending the message.
“Given what?” Delegate A’lill’n demanded of the empty comm channel.
“My aides believe the message ended with the disruption of the comm relay,” Kaar said. “At this point we have no way of knowing the tactical situation beyond what the admiral has said.” He looked mournfully downward. “Nor do we know if the admiral has survived the surprise assault he’s stumbled upon, though he no doubt is fighting valiantly.”
Legion Commander Keller spoke up from the comm. “This does match the intelligence the Legion received from its legionnaires stationed at Fortress Omicron. Before the relays went down, we received deep space transmissions warning of a friendly fire incident. Those reports evolved to say that the attacks were intentional.”
The disgust on the faces of the delegates could not be hidden.
“One wonders,” Kaar said, speaking on behalf of the whole, “when the Legion intended to share this information.”
Unfazed, Keller replied, “Given the severity of the attack and the circumstances, the Legion had no such intentions. This looks to be the beginning of a civil war, delegates.”
The Security Council sat in stunned silence at this proclamation.
It was A’lill’n who spoke next. “And what steps is the Legion taking to put a stop to it?”
Keller was matter-of-fact in his reply. “I’ve authorized a kill team to infiltrate Tarrago Prime and destroy the shipyards.”
A furor arose among the delegates. Even Senator Hendrexyln’s voice could be heard in protest over the comm. “This is unspeakable!”
“Tarrago Prime is a world entirely dedicated to the construction of Republic capital ships!”
“Destroying that shipyard would disastrous to our ability to—”
“Why not take the damn thing back, Keller? Aren’t you legionnaires supposed to be fighters?”
Keller waited calmly for the voices to die down. “I trust the reports of my legionnaires. They are hopelessly outnumbered, and Tarrago Prime’s security forces are farcical. Whoever is after this shipyard wants it whole; the opportunity to destroy it through orbital bombardment was available and went unused. The other side wants ships.”
Kaar slammed both palms against the table. “Unacceptable. Your solution is unacceptable, Legion Commander Keller. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that you need to call off this kill team immediately.”
Keller set his jaw. “If that’s the will of the House of Reason—though I’ll say on record it is strategic folly. The battle for Tarrago is already lost, no matter what Admiral Devers or Admiral Landoo might think. But if that’s the House of Reason’s decision… I’ll see what I can do. The comm relays in that system have been… uncooperative.”
The holo of Keller went offline, but Kaar imagined he saw a grin on the legion commander’s face as his projection scrambled and disappeared. Kaar would need to reach Admiral Devers to warn him of the incoming kill team. He thanked Oba that his prototype comm would remain operative even with the relays down. The Republic really should have kept funding that project.
Bridge of the Corvette Audacity
Above Tarrago, Heading to Jump
0220 Local System Time
“Time?” asked Desaix.
“Here they come!” shouted the co-pilot.
“Activate point defense turrets. Gunners fire at will,” ordered Desaix over the chaos coming from along the narrow bridge. And then he repeated his unanswered question. “Time to jump?”
“One minute fifteen seconds, sir.”
Off beyond the moon he could barely see the three massive capital ships that were what was being called… the enemy. He’d never seen anything like them. They were massive. This was the full-scale war no one had ever expected. And Desaix knew right there, at that moment, that the Audacity had to reach the main fleet if Tarrago was to have a chance.
“Taking damage! Auxiliary batteries offline!” announced someone back in damage control.
“Never mind!” shouted Desaix. “They weren’t reconfigured to interface with the new energy displacement absorbers. The deflectors will hold.”
In moments, the enemy fighters were all over his ship.
“Destroyer moving in to cut us off. Thirty seconds and she’ll block our jump
window!”
“Maintain course and heading,” announced Desaix calmly. “Stand by to jump!”
“We’re not gonna make it,” muttered the helmsman.
05
231st Gun Battery Assigned Orbital Defense Command
Fortress Omicron
0155 Local System Time
Twenty minutes prior to the Audacity’s attempt to jump…
After he’d found the two dead techs and sounded the general alarm, protocol dictated that Captain Thales was to report to the nearest gun battery to organize the defenses. So he ran. Emergency lights gyrated from every corner and all along the massive cut-into-the-dead-rock-of-the-moon gray walls.
When he reached an armory, he skidded to a stop and entered. He suited up for vacuum operations in the standard Repub Navy battle armor. It was nothing like what the legionnaires were issued, but it was enough to stand up to hard vacuum, and maybe a child wielding a plastic knife.
A link to base commander General Daalro appeared on his datapad. He clicked it and winced in anticipation of the storm that was coming. Which didn’t look great in combination with him trying to shrug into his armor.
“There had better be a damn good reason why you just woke the entire base, Captain!” shouted the irate general.
Thales could see that his commanding officer was still in bed. Sitting up. His iron-gray hair and mustache, normally every inch the typical Repub general, looked wild and disheveled.
“I’m almost certain… sir,” grunted Thales as he struggled to pull on his boots. In another part of his mind he told himself that he really needed to stop binge-reading at night and start hitting the gym. “That we are about to come under some sort of attack. Both the techs on duty in Deep Sensors are dead. They look to have been assassinated. Someone then scrambled our systems with what most likely is some type of hunter-killer malware designed to make sure we don’t see what’s coming.”