Star Crusader: Battle Fleet Victorious

by Thomas, Michael G.

  "Sir."

  A number of new waypoints popped up on the computer, followed by the man's voice.

  "All fighters form up in one wing. I want maximum firepower. Target their weapon system. We need to create gaps for our troops to land."

  Nate kept shaking his head, doing his best to keep his mouth shut. Even from this far away, the bewildering array of defensive weapon systems on the station were visible.

  Our missiles will never make it, not against that thing.

  "Let's do this!"

  The sixteen fighter-bombers raced towards the station, each separated by nearly a hundred metres. There was little need to fly closer, and in doing so they were much more likely to attract the attention of the heavier weapons on the station. Nate adjusted his course slightly, to keep Ironclad leader just ahead of him and leading their part of the formation. They were just seconds away from the battle, but he wanted to see what else was happening.

  A quick glance to the right made him gasp involuntarily. CCS Crusader was between two smaller cruisers, and all three ships exchanged broadsides with terrible efficiency. He couldn't imagine what it must be like on board them, and a feeling of sheer admiration washed over him. At least in a fighter you were in control of your destiny. On a ship you had to get on with your job, and trust in your ship, captain, and crew.

  "Okay, activate your anti-ship missiles. Prepare for medium-range bombardment. After launch, you will divert to secondary waypoints. I've..."

  The man was interrupted by Commander Higgins' voice.

  "Ground forces are moving into high orbit. Whatever you're going to do, do it fast!"

  "Right," said Raptor Leader, "Go in...now!"

  The formation accelerated towards the station, and at the ground structure now surrounded by gunfire. A large frigate drifted away with fires burning on its stern, and then exploded without warning. Lights flashed inside Nate's helmet. The marine called out, his voice becoming more excitable by the second.

  "Particle weapons, stay away from the primary emitter batteries! Line up and prepare to launch."

  Nate adjusted his thrusters and flicked off the safety for his Sea Skua anti-ship missiles. According to the hardpoints, he carried eighteen of them, more than enough to cause a lot of damage. He also carried a single Star Fire heavy missile, and according to the computer, it was equipped with a micro-atomic warhead. He wasn't entirely sure they'd used them in the war, but he did know they were available to modern spacecraft.

  We can't do this.

  The myriad of turrets opened up, filling the area around the space station with projectiles. Nate knew he should keep quiet, but the fate of the mission came first, even though he knew it was time for the marines to shine.

  "We won't get through their defences. They are ready for them."

  "Cut the chatter!"

  The voice was firm, almost angry.

  "Now...launch!"

  As one, the formation of sixteen Thunderbolts unleashed their payloads. Scores upon scores of Sea Skua missiles raced away, leaving short streaks of propellant behind them. The Star Fire missiles mixed in with the cloud and hurtled towards the target at ever increasing speed.

  "Okay, break and reform!"

  The v shaped formation split apart and veered away from the station as the missiles reached the one kilometre cordon. Dozens exploded as though hitting an invisible door, but many more made it through. Constant flashes flickered along the station, and then came the atomics. Most were too far away to cause damage, but Nate noticed at least two hit the outer hull.

  "We've got hits!" Raptor Leader yelled.

  Nate kept looking back.

  "Sir, I think..."

  The channel jammed, and once more the marine berated him.

  "Change course and move in to attack. Their defences are down, and the station is vulnerable. Use your guns and hit them. Don't stop till our Maulers arrive. We've got this."

  The Thunderbolts changed course and moved in from three directions to the station. A good deal of the structure was now covered in debris, fragments, and small fires. At first, it looked as though the thing had been crippled, but then Nate spotted a wide beam reflecting off the dust clouds and striking something in the distance.

  Particle weapons. That station is still working!

  Nate hit the comms button, but it was too late. Another cruiser took the brunt of the blast. The particle weapons were terrifying to watch. Completely invisible, and travelling at the speed of light, the high-energy guns could destroy any target with ease. The one weakness being the immense levels of power required, thus reducing the number of shots.

  "The station is still active!"

  Then came the shapes he knew would be there. Nine fighters burst out of the cloud and right at them. They were faster and more agile than the Thunderbolts, and as their guns opened up, three of Nate's allies vanished. A fourth lost half its engines and plummeted towards the station.

  "Break, break, break!"

  The next part of the battle took no more than three minutes, and though they put up a good fight, it wasn't long before the Marine Corporal sent the signal.

  "Everybody, fall back to the fleet, now!"

  Seven fighters made it back, but Nate's end came seconds from the destruction of the last three fighters near the station. As his craft spun out of control, he watched CCS Crusader annihilated by a triple blast from the station's particle weapons. The blackness vanished, and he was back in the control suite, surrounded by his friends. They rose from their seats, and the technicians helped remove the spider web interfaces from their heads.

  "That wasn't so great, was it?" Billy asked.

  Matilda snorted.

  "Who attacks a station like that with missiles, and then think they can strafe the place?"

  Out they filed, the marines doing the same. This time Commander Higgins had them stand together in a loose group. In the middle of the deck was a circular table, much like the one they'd used on the bridge to look at the Byotai defences. This one showed a projection of Terra Nova, along with the two groups of ships and the station. White flashes marked where various craft had been deployed.

  "Okay," began the Commander, "You damaged the station and destroyed six fighters; simulated estimates of casualties upwards of three hundred in the station, and one of the emitter arrays is off-line."

  The Corporal who'd led the operation seemed quite pleased with himself. And Commander Higgins focussed specifically on him.

  "Corporal. What is your assessment?"

  "Well, Sir. It's a dangerous mission, but I think we did a lot of damage in the time we had. Seven made it back from sixteen, and the landings on the planet can begin."

  Commander Higgins shook his head.

  "No. CCS Crusader is gone, and the station is still operational. Its guns will stop any ground assault. Another attack will be needed, and we're already running out of ships. In the time it took to attack, we lost three capital ships and more than four thousand crew."

  He looked to Nate and his friends.

  "And that means the mission failed in its primary objective. Securing the ground. Now tell me, can you do any better?"

  Nate spoke for them with no hesitation.

  "Yes, Sir. We can do this, no problem."

  "Very well, back to your ships."

  It didn't take very long to restart the mission, and as before, the fighters moved towards the station in the exact same formation.

  "Okay, what’s the plan, Star Crusader?"

  It was Lieutenant Commander Holder, and Nate was sure she was being sarcastic.

  "Arm all weapons and set them to manual detonation."

  "What?" complained the Marine Corporal. This time Nate cut him off.

  "Our turn, so follow my plan. We attack in two groups, both using guns only. Wait for my signal."

  There was no argument, but Nate knew they had doubt over his decision. Only Matilda spoke, and she sounded surprisingly sympathetic.

  "Is this a Ke
rberos Run?"

  Nate grinned. It had been a long time since that scenario, and it brought back happy memories of the time long before he'd seen a real space battle.

  "Exactly. A Kerberos Run."

  They spread out, and as before the guns opened up from the station. This was the moment where they'd launched their missiles, but not this time. Closer and closer came the station, and Nate tried to avoid the massive ship versus ship clashes now taking place. He could almost count up the lives lost in his head as the heavy guns lashed back and forth. The kilometres dropped off until they were within the thousand metres of the station.

  "Guns!"

  All sixteen Thunderbolts opened up, their secondary weapons hammering into the station. With no advanced shielding or motorised armour, the guns were able to cause superficial damage, but nothing truly dangerous.

  "This is useless," complained the Marine Corporal, "Let me try something else."

  The pilot pulled out of formation and then rolled away as a burst of gunfire raked its flank.

  "Negative. Get back in formation, now!" Lieutenant Commander Holder replied, "Leave this to the Ironclads."

  Normally, Holder would have run the mission, but this time she played the part of the pilot, and second fiddle to Nate. She was a veteran pilot with absolutely nothing to prove.

  "Fighters!" Valdis yelled.

  Nate spotted them to his right, multiple Lightning fighters racing out to engage them. Several of the marines burst out laughing on the audio channel, and Nate tried to ignore them. More and more raced out, and they headed directly towards Nate and his comrades.

  "We're screwed now!" complained another of the marines.

  Nate ignored them all and nodded towards the station.

  "Roll and hit your engines. Follow me in."

  He pulsed the engines, and the spacecraft spun around with surprisingly agility.

  "Take your bombers, and follow me inside their hangars. Use your burners and get past their guns!"

  Nate didn't wait and pulled on the controls to roll right past the approaching fighters. With a harsh boost of power, he rolled upside down and hurtled towards the station. The other members of the Ironclads were right there, the marines a little slower. The defenders must have realised the danger and turned their turrets on the fighters. Thousands of rounds of ammunition filled the space around the station, and even the particle beam emitters blasted back and forth. Three fighters disintegrated before Nate even made it inside.

  "This is suicide!" shouted the same marine.

  "Cut his feed and get inside!"

  Nate was first inside the nearest hangar, and he had to move carefully to avoid the large brackets hanging down from the ceiling and flanks. There were other fighters inside, hanging from brackets. With no shielding or artificial gravity, it was relatively easy to move inside. The others raced in behind, and one lost control and crashed into the right-hand side. The broken spacecraft drifted about trailing fuel.

  "Is that everybody?"

  "Two more," answered Lieutenant Commander Holder.

  Nate turned his Thunderbolt around and spotted a pair of enemy fighters heading towards them. Their guns opened up, and the muzzles flashed. The Thunderbolts tried to return fire, but being jammed inside the three separate hangars made it almost impossible. Nate knew they were seconds away from disaster, and a quick glance at his archaic tactical mapping screen showed CCS Crusader was through the blockade, and now just moments away from engaging the station in a life and death battle.

  "On my mark, trigger your weapons."

  The thirteen remaining pilots stayed silent, waiting for the word from Nate. More bullets slammed home, and part of Nate's bow tore off, triggering fires and breaching the pressurised interior.

  "Now!"

  All Nate saw was a momentary blip of white light, and then the simulation ended. He blinked rapidly and almost choked upon realising he'd been holding his breath. Somebody nearby removed the spider's web interface and helped him to his feet. He could see his friends, but the huge grin on Valdis' face surprised him the most. She shook her head.

  "Nate, you crazy fool."

  They moved out onto the deck and found the marines already there. All eyes were on the young pilots, and for the first time in the last hour or so, Nate found he couldn't judge the situation. He knew he'd just done something unexpected, and he'd also killed his entire unit. Commander Higgins looked to the marines.

  "Well?"

  The cheer of excitement exploded like a bomb, stunning Nate in an instant. Hostile and suspicious faces vanished, replaced by the admiring looks of those much older and more experienced. The Corporal that had been so hostile approached Nate and extended a hand. Nate grabbed it and felt his fingers crushed in a vice like grip. As he released, Commander Higgins signalled for them all to gather around.

  "Okay, the tally this time. Sixteen fighters lost, including all pilots. No capital ships lost, and the station has been annihilated. Would you have done that if you were inside those fighters?"

  Lieutenant Commander Holder answered for them.

  "No chance. And that's why we need these gamers. They play the odds, and they play to win. Fighters, ships, pilots, and weapons. They're all resources to be used in a fight. It's cold, it's hard, and hell...it works."

  Commander Higgins waited until she'd finished and then looked to the rest of them.

  "Very well, then. You've got..." He paused and checked his Secpad bracelet, "Thirty hours till we arrive at the target. You've got twenty-nine to prepare. Now, are you ready to spearhead an assault on the enemy's homeworld?"

  He was rewarded by complete and utter silence. Cassandra looked at the others, and noticed even Valdis and Matilda were silent. She'd had little to say for some time, and as eyes wandered through the group, she continued to notice that little attention came her way. She'd been a member of the group as long as the others and done her share of fighting.

  It's time.

  Stepping forward she lifted a hand up.

  "I'm ready."

  Dozens of heads turned to look at her, a young girl, barely a woman, and a confirmed fighter ace. Matilda moved to her side and touched her arm.

  "Me, too."

  That was all it took to get the rest cheering with excitement. Finally, every one joined in, leaving just Valdis in silence. As the noise continued, Nate moved closer to her.

  "What is it?"

  She tried to put on a happy smile, but Nate saw right through it.

  "We saw the target. What did they call this? A suicide mission?"

  Nate grinned.

  "Then we'd better get ready."

  He turned around and called out to the other pilots.

  "Okay, who wants to practise rush techniques?"

  The pilots moved in close together, and Commander Higgins and Lieutenant Commander Holder moved to the side to let them get on. Commander Higgins leaned in towards her.

  "Well...that went kind of to plan."

  She gave him one of those rare smiles back.

  "Let them have an hour or so. Can they do it?"

  That instantly wiped the look off his face.

  "Five ships and..."

  He did a quick calculation in his head.

  "Eight Jackal dropships per vessel, with two drones per Jackal. That's...eighty fighter drones plus any support drones they might have. With half that number of trained pilots to operate them."

  Lieutenant Commander Holder looked to the group of marines and pilots talking excitedly about past missions and combat actions.

  "They'll run out soon enough. You saw the defences we're facing. I wouldn't want to go there without two battle groups."

  Commander Higgins shrugged.

  "Like we ever get what we want. Now, I owe you a drink after all that. What do you say?"

  She smiled back at him, feigning coyness.

  "You're on."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Alliance Assault Carrier 'ANS Victorious', Behind Enemy Lines


  The training hall aboard Victorious was not particularly massive but more than adequate for what the marines had in mind. Nate had never expected to be invited here, but after the mammoth simulator session of the last half-day, it came as a welcome diversion. Apparently, something important was going to happen. Nate just hoped it wasn't another test to prove he was up to the job.

  Billy and Cassandra were there with him, but the rest of the pilots were still down on the operational level checking details on a fighter. Commander Higgins and Lieutenant Commander Holder were both back on the bridge, no doubt making final plans for the operation.

  "Okay, people, listen up."

  It was Lieutenant Armstrong, the friendly officer they'd met before.

  "Corporal Jackson is out of commission, and that means his spot is open on 3rd Squad. All of you have combat experience and are due for promotion, as and when it suits the unit."

  Nate scanned the group, curious to gauge their reactions. There were a lot of tough warriors in there, and it felt more like a school trip than being among his equals and peers. Being a pilot was a very different path to being a soldier on the front-line.

  "Marines...who has what it takes to lead this fireteam?"

  Nate looked around the group as arms shot up, but one in particular surprised him.

  "Valentine?"

  A couple of marines looked back at him, and Cassandra struggled not to laugh. The Lieutenant gave it three more seconds until finally there were five volunteers. All of them were stripped down to their training PT gear, with bare feet, short and loose fitting shirts. Valentine was slightly below the average height of the group, but she waited there with the gait of a marine with decades of experience.

  "Very well. Blake, Smith, Knight and Wong...step forward."

  His eyes scanned the room and spotted Valentine. It took a second for him to realise who it was.

  "And Valentine."

  Dozens of eyes shifted to watch the young woman move out in front of the others. The group met in the middle of the space, where the smooth floor was gently dampened with a layer of absorbent material. It wasn't much, but enough to stop critical injury during sparring and drill.

  "You can handle the Grunts?"