by PP Corcoran
“Captain, the light points that you are seeing are computer generated renditions of fleeting energy signatures that the passive sensors have detected but are having difficulty locking onto.”
McNamara hated it when he was right. “Could they be ships running their power at minimum levels just like we are?”
The lieutenant at Tactical’s forehead frowned as she considered that possibility. “If I was to take a guess... I would say that that is exactly what they were. It’s hard to get a firm read on their numbers, but I guess at least thirty ships are out there. BatFor Four only has twenty-two ships in its current order of battle and that includes its resupply, fast replenishment ships. Could the Joint Chiefs be running some sort of major fleet exercise that we’re unaware of?”
McNamara felt his gut tightening. His mind raced as he tried to muster up an explanation as to why so many ships would be hiding out here in the Kuiper Belt. No matter how hard he tried, there was no alternative. There could only be one reason why those ships were here: ‘The Others’ had returned to 31 Aquilae, and this time they had come en masse.
McNamara hit the recessed control in his chair arm and the bone-penetrating wail of the battle stations alarm reverberated throughout the Aurora, urging the crew to their posts. McNamara gave rapid-fire orders in succession. “Guns! Bring the weapons on line and go active on all your sensors. Get as much on those ships as you can, then download all your data to the courier drones and append our current location and logs. I want the drones constantly updated and programmed to fold for Garunda on my command.”
The young lieutenant spun in her chair as she went to her task. McNamara hardly noticed as he continued his orders. “Engineering! Standby the Gravity Drive. Communications! Hail those ships, identify us and request their identities and intentions.”
“My God!”
McNamara looked across to Tactical where the unbidden remark originated “Guns! What are you seeing?”
A very pale-faced lieutenant turned to face her captain, her fear evident in her voice. “Captain, those ships are powering up. I now make... forty-two ships. The computer identifies at least thirty as Buzzard class and,” the lieutenant swallowed hard, preparing the delivery vehicle for bad news, “the remaining twelve... the computer puts at fifty per cent larger than the Buzzards. Somewhere in the 330,000 tonne range. Their power readings are at least twice that of the Buzzard.”
Those on the bridge who overheard the conversation between the captain and his Tactical officer stopped whatever they were doing, momentarily, in mid-flow. All eyes turned to McNamara, pleading with him to order a fold jump, to let them escape from the nightmare that the ships in front of them represented.
McNamara saw the anxious faces of his officers but knew that if a force of this size caught BatFor Four unprepared then it would be a slaughter. “Navigation, flight time for a Buzzard at maximum known speed to Garunda?”
Fingers flew over controls. “I make it seven hours from a standing start to insertion into Garundan orbit, sir.”
Only seven hours thought McNamara. Seven hours for Rear Adm. Thapa and BatFor Four to prepare for ‘The Others’ onslaught. McNamara said decisively. “Communications! I want a flight of eight drones launched as quickly as you can get them away, two each for Garunda, Earth, Janus and Pars.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Navigation! Plot us a fold back to Garunda. Let’s get the hell out of here.” McNamara felt the Aurora shudder as the courier drones began launching in rapid succession. He counted them off. One, two, three, four, five...
The near light speed energy weapons fired at them by the nearest ‘Others’ ship guaranteed that neither McNamara nor his crew saw home again. As the weapons connected with the small destroyer, the ablative armour held for a moment before the sheer volume of fire blew its way through it. TDF Aurora and all her crew had no chance of survival.
As the Aurora died, ‘The Others’ fleet formed itself up and moved towards Garunda.
#
As ‘The Others’ advanced in system towards their ultimate goal of the planet Garunda, BatFor Four raced to battle stations. On receipt of the devastating message alerting him to the massive enemy fleet heading towards him from the Aurora’s courier drone, Rear Adm. Thapa dispatched his own drones to Earth, Janus and Pars. He requested any and all available ships to make their way to Garunda.
Thapa was no fool. He knew that his BatFor were in for the fight of their lives. ‘The Others’ fleet outnumbered him and this new type of ‘Others’ ship, his Tactical officer had designated them Vulture class, outweighed his own TDF Richelieu, a Nemesis class flagship by four and half to one. Even if it had comparable weapons to the Buzzard class, he knew that he could do little but slow ‘The Others’ down and hope the cavalry arrived before ‘The Others’ managed to range on Garunda and obliterate all life on that world.
The only way that Thapa could see to buy that time was with the lives of his own brave men and women. Thapa looked slowly around the flag bridge of the Richelieu and steeled himself for what was to come.
“Communications! General fleet signal: Ships are to form up on the battleships as per Case Yellow.”
Without turning, the lieutenant at Communications acknowledged the order with a tense “Case Yellow. Aye aye, sir.”
As Thapa watched, a sidebar on his Holo Cube listing the names of the ships of BatFor Four highlighted in turn as each ship acknowledged the order.
Case Yellow had been planned with the scenario in mind that currently faced BatFor Four: an attack by overwhelming numbers on a shortest time course for Garunda. The plan was simple: BatFor Four would place itself between the attacking ‘Others’ and Garunda and fight a long-range missile duel with BatFor Four attempting to slow ‘The Others’ progress to the planet and gain time for the reinforcements to arrive. Unfortunately, Case Yellow had been conceived around the premise that BatFor Four would be facing Buzzard class ships only, not these new Vulture class ships. The readings gained by TDF Aurora had allowed Tactical to make a best guess at the range of the Vulture’s weapons. But that was exactly what it was – a guess. Thapa would not know for sure until his ships closed with ‘The Others’ and engaged them.
As Thapa watched his display, he noted with satisfaction that Commodore Nikulin and his three Ragusan class fleet replenishment freighters were already moving off with their escort of two Agis destroyers, while six of his remaining destroyers broke into pairs and moved to either flank of his three Nemesis battleships. Specifically designed to be anti-missile platforms, the Agis would augment each battleship’s own anti-missile defences. The four heavy cruisers positioned themselves two above and two below the line of battleships to protect against any attempted pincer movements by ‘The Others’. Many civilians did not know that space battle was fought in three dimensions, so protecting the space above and below you was just as important as that to your sides, front and rear. The two Talos light cruisers would fold to a position to the rear of ‘The Others’ and use hit and run tactics in an attempt to cause as much damage to the enemies drive systems as they could.
That left one lone destroyer – TDF Comanche. Thapa watched it blink out of existence and only a moment later it reappeared high above the elliptical plane, far from any danger. Comanche had the unenviable task of being the messenger to inform Earth of the seemingly certain death of BatFor Four and the destruction of Garunda and her hundreds of millions of inhabitants. Comanche would hold her position and record the impending clash until BatFor Four and Garunda’s fate was decided.
#
Ensign Roawan looked around him in a state of mild confusion as the human crew of the Ragusan class fleet replenishment ship TDF Wayfarer seemed to move around him, as if he were a lonely outcrop of rock in a sea of people. Roawan was one of the first native Garundans to graduate from the Joint Naval Academy. He had specialised in communications and the Wayfarer was meant to be his maiden cruise where he would apply all the lessons he learned in the class
room in the real world. But right now, as he watched the humans around him move with a purpose, he felt like a spare cog in a very large machine. He knew he should, no, he knew he needed to be doing something. ‘The Others’ were attacking his planet and he couldn’t leave the humans to shoulder the burden of its defence. He was now a naval officer and it was his duty to do whatever he could to protect his people. With a new purpose, Roawan headed for Comms and hoped that he could be of some assistance.
He entered the Communication Centre, a very grand name for a very small room which held two naval ratings and a Chief Petty Officer who monitored the flow of traffic to and from the Wayfarer. Most of the traffic on the Wayfarer was generated from the bridge where the duty Communication’s officer was stationed. Roawan had been working here since his arrival on board the Wayfarer. He found that humans always treated him with the respect that his status as an officer deserved, even if he was only an ensign and straight from the Academy.
The CPO heard the hatch open behind him. On the realization that Roawan had entered the room, he quickly brought him up to speed. “Sir, we have established solid whisker locks on the escorting destroyers and Splendid. The Maverick has reported a fault with her forward whisker mount but we have a solid lock on her stern mount.” TDF Splendid and TDF Maverick were the Wayfarer’s sister ships. “We have six courier drones prepped and ready for launch awaiting any downloads from the bridge and we are currently running health checks on our remaining ready couriers. I have also ordered a health check on all the courier drones we are carrying in the cargo holds.” The CPO quickly checked his PAD. “Our current stock is forty-seven ready for immediate offloading with eighteen down for essential maintenance.”
Impressed by the CPO’s comprehensive report, Roawan could not help but feel, again, that he was excess baggage. “Thank you, CPO. What of the fleet’s current status?”
The CPO touched another control and a small Holo Cube sprang to life in the corner of the room. The blue icons representing the fighting ships of BatFor Four had folded away to a point approximately two hundred thousand kilometres from the oncoming enemy ships, and had begun to engage them at long range using anti-ship missiles in an obvious attempt to slow their progress towards Garunda. On a sidebar, Roawan saw the list of damaged and destroyed TDF ships growing slowly but surely.
These new Vulture ships of ‘The Others’ might be slower than the Buzzards, but their weight of firepower was telling. Thapa was forced to continually manoeuvre to avoid the waves of anti-ship missiles being launched by ‘The Others’. These new Vultures carried a more powerful version of the Buzzard’s x-ray laser which, if it struck a TDF ship, invariably caused massive damage or outright destruction. The Admiral was forced to manoeuvre and keep ‘‘The Others’ within his own weapons-effective envelope. Roawan noted that so far in the battle, BatFor Four had been unable to cause any significant damage to these new Vulture ships. Tactical had identified another new type of ‘Others’ ship, designated Goshawk. The Goshawk was similar in size and construction to a standard Buzzard but it appeared to be an anti-missile ship designed to protect the larger Vultures. Similar to the role of the Agis destroyers within the TDF but on a much bigger scale.
So far, in battle, the Goshawks were very effective. TDF reports indicated that only the standard Buzzards were taking casualties; no TDF missile had gotten close enough to the Vultures to cause any damage.
“How are communications with the fleet, CPO?”
“We are maintaining a steady stream of courier drones back and forth to the fleet. The bridge is having us launch drones back to Earth, Janus and Pars with status reports every thirty minutes.”
Roawan’s face contorted into the Garundan equivalent of a frown at that news. “We must be burning through our drones quite quickly then, CPO?”
Without consulting his PAD, the CPO answered. “With our current rate of expenditure, our stocks will be dry in nine hours.” With a shrug, the CPO added in a quiet, resigned voice. “No matter, sir. It will all be decided by then anyway.”
There was a moment of silence in the room. Even with the valiant efforts of BatFor Four, ‘The Others’ were making steady progress through the system. At their current rate of advance, they should be within weapons range of Garunda in five hours.
Roawan could feel something nagging at the back of his mind, even as he contemplated the destruction of his home. Then it came to him. “CPO, you said at our current rate of expenditure we would be dry in nine hours.”
Now it was the CPO’s turn to be slightly confused. “Yes, sir. That’s what the numbers are telling me.”
“Are we not losing any drones to enemy fire as they arrive at the fleet?”
A large grin appeared on the CPO’s face. “Well, sir. Before I moved over to communications, I used to be in navigation. I’m pretty good at calculating fold jumps.” The CPO indicated the Holo Cube again. “As you can see, ‘The Others’ and our fleet are moving at a relatively steady rate towards Garunda – almost a predictable rate. I have programmed each drone to emerge thirty thousand kilometres to the rear of our ships, redefine its location and identify the flag ship and its current speed, then micro-jump to within a kilometre of the ship. The drone is then shielded from enemy fire by the ship while it transmits its data, gets a reply and then micro-folds away a safe distance and repeats the process in reverse to arrive back here.”
Roawan was looking at the CPO in amazement. “How many drones have we actually lost to enemy fire?”
The CPO’s chest puffed out with pride. “I lost two drones while I refined the computer programming. But since then? Not one has been lost.” The grin on the CPO’s face faded as he realized that Roawan was no longer listening to him. An unusual blank expression fell over the ensign. “Sir, sir… are you alright?”
Roawan ignored the concerned CPO. He pushed past him to a computer terminal and began typing in commands as fast as he could.
The CPO watched over his shoulder as the load manifest of each of the replenishment ships was called up. Roawan became very still as he leaned on the terminal for support as if drunk. The CPO was forced to take a step back as the young ensign spun round to face him and grab him by the shoulders.
“CPO, do you know what you’ve done? You have given me the means to save my people!”
The CPO and the two ratings could only stare at the young ensign in bewilderment.
Roawan was making for the door, shouting orders excitedly over his shoulder. “CPO! I want those drones downed for maintenance online as quickly as possible. Inform Maverick and Splendid to conduct health checks on all their available drones, ASAP.”
Roawan stopped and turned at the entrance to the Comms Centre to face its confused occupants. His look of joy was replaced by determination. “Now we will see how well they die.”
#
Radford looked across the table directly into the eyes of Patricia Bath and for just a moment held her gaze longer than he should, before Patricia broke contact. Her cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. When John first arrived on Pars, it had quickly become the norm for John, Aaron Beckett, Patricia Bath and Jeff Moore to meet for either dinner or a late supper and update each other on the events of the day. As the weeks passed and the humans became more and more pressed for time in their daily routine, it had left only John and Patricia to carry on the ritual.
John admitted to himself that he was actually quite glad that Aaron and Jeff could not make it anymore, for it gave him more time to spend talking to Patricia. Yes, the conversation always started about work, but recently that had quickly tapered off. Each had begun to talk about their personal lives, their families and friends, personal likes and dislikes. John had found himself wanting to know everything there was to know about Patricia.
The urgent tone of John’s wrist Comm brought his attention back to the present. “Radford. Go ahead.”
“Admiral.” John immediately recognized the gruff tones of Force Leader Taminth in his ear bug. “We
have received a courier drone from Garunda with some disturbing news.”
John felt his whole body stiffen. Patricia must have sensed it too. Without thinking, she reached across the table and took John’s hand in hers.
“The courier was from the TDF Aurora which has been trying to penetrate the 31 Aquilae system as part of a readiness exercise. It reports at least forty-two ships, identified as The Enemy, hiding in the Kuiper Belt of the system. From the Aurora’s sensor data it appears The Enemy have twelve ships of an unknown type at least fifty per cent larger than their Buzzards. No more information is known at this time, but I feel certain that The Enemy have come with the intention of destroying Garunda.”
“Well, we thought it would happen eventually. I just wish we had had more time; the fleet base isn’t even fully operational yet. Thank God, the first phase of the Viper defence platforms are in place. That should at least give Garunda a decent chance of defeating any missile bombardment of the planet.” John knew the Viper defence platforms with their two variants, one armed with nine high velocity missiles and the other with a powerful grazer good for one hundred shots and the same ones that Earth and Janus trusted with their defence. It was just a matter of how many had been deployed around Garunda.
“Admiral, Chairman Tarrov has activated our defence agreements under the Commonwealth Union Charter and the Persai will immediately dispatch units to the aid of Garunda. I would request that you join me on my flag ship as quickly as possible.” As second in command of the Persai Navy, John knew that Taminth’s request was more of an order than a request.
“Of course, Force Leader. I shall be with you as quickly as possible.” Taminth cut the link and John went to stand, only to find that Patricia still held his hand. John looked down at her and thought that he could see a small tear running down her cheek. He picked up a napkin and went to wipe it away but Patricia stopped him and gave his hand a small kiss.