In order to stay within engagement range of an enemy, it was necessary to drastically reduce ship speeds. Also, at higher speeds, enemy weapons could play havoc with a ship’s space drives, particularly exploding nukes.
-
In space, the two opposing fighter groups met and threw themselves into battle. Space quickly lit up with tracer rounds and missile flares as the Hocklyn and Human fighters tried to destroy one another. Bright, fiery explosions began to go off as missiles and cannon fire found their intended targets. Fighters on both sides died as they vanished in sudden flaming blasts. The human fighters were all equipped with two Hunter class interceptor missiles and they were using them to their advantage. Only a few of the Hocklyn fighters were equipped with interceptors.
Squadron leaders were trying to direct their fighters to optimize the use of the Hunter missiles, but the two opposing groups were so intermixed that the weapon of choice was the Talon’s twin 30 mm cannons. In just a matter of a few moments, the battle had devolved into a swirling dogfight of wildly turning and gyrating fighters.
-
“Optimum missile range,” Lieutenant Mason reported from his tactical console on the WarStorm. “We have firm target locks.”
Amanda nodded. “All ships, fire!” she ordered firmly over the ship-to-ship channel.
Her eyes strayed briefly to the main viewscreen, which was focused on the fighter battle. The screen was full of small explosions designating the deaths of both Hocklyns and Humans. She winced inwardly, knowing she was losing a lot of brave pilots.
Both fleets fired their missiles almost at the same time. Seconds later, massive explosions as well as occasional nukes struck the energy screens of the two opposing fleets. Waves of blistering energy cascaded across the energy screens of both Human and Hocklyn ships whenever a nuke went off. Then the two fleets entered energy weapons range, and the real battle began.
The human capital ships were equipped with power beams and pulse lasers. Space was suddenly full of violet and orange-red beams of light as the powerful energy weapons struck the Hocklyn’s energy shields. More than a few of the powerful beams struck and penetrated, carving deeply into the armored hulls and inflicting heavy damage. The Hocklyn’s own blue energy beams responded, striking human shields and occasionally penetrating. Numerous missiles were now detonating against energy screens on both sides, causing them to waver. Railgun rounds began to add their destruction to the melee as both sides opened up with every weapon they had at their disposal.
Admiral Sheen gripped her command console, feeling the WarStorm shudder as missiles and railgun rounds began impacting the ship’s potent energy screen. She knew the screen would be lit up from the exploding ordnance.
“All ships engaged,” Commander Evans reported tensely as she watched the tactical display. “We are still closing the range.”
Amanda blinked her eyes and gazed around the Command Center, taking stock of the situation. The crew seemed calm and were going about their jobs in an efficient and deadly manner, though she could sense an undertone of anxiety. She felt the WarStorm shudder again as another powerful enemy missile slammed into the ship’s energy screen.
-
From the WarStorm, two deadly power beams flashed out from the bow, striking an enemy war cruiser. The eight dual pulse laser turrets on the upper hull locked on, adding their firepower to the power beams trying to knock down the war cruiser’s powerful energy screen. Klave and Devastator class missiles launched from the missile tubes, blasting the Hocklyn screen with a rain of high explosives and nuclear fire causing it to waver. A Klave missile slipped through the screen impacting on the hull blasting a glowing hole in the side of the war cruiser.
Several blue Hocklyn energy beams struck the light cruiser Capella, penetrating its energy shield. Almost instantly two Hocklyn nuclear missiles arrived, slamming into the hull and detonating, splitting the valiant ship into two sections. The Capella’s self-destructs engaged blowing the separate sections into oblivion as their nuclear energy was released.
A human battlecruiser was battering down the energy shield of a Hocklyn war cruiser using its power beams and regular Devastator missiles. The shield suddenly collapsed, and the Hocklyn war cruiser vanished as nuclear explosions tore it apart.
-
“Light cruiser Capella is down,” Lieutenant Stalls reported, his face grim. He hated those words; ones he had spoken too often since they had embarked on Operation First Strike. He also knew, sadly, that he would continue to say those words in the future as the war waged on.
“Shift all of our battlecruiser’s fire to the war cruisers,” ordered Amanda, wanting to inflict as much damage on the Hocklyn’s heavier units as possible before she was forced to withdraw. Admiral Streth had ordered her explicitly not to risk heavy damage to her fleet. They were too far away from home to receive reinforcements.
The firing intensified as the larger capital ships shifted their targeting to the enemy war cruisers. In less than a minute, a brilliant light flared across the main viewscreen as another 1,000-meter Hocklyn war cruiser died in a series of fiery explosions. Even as it did, the loss of human ships continued to mount. Missiles penetrated ship screens damaging large sections of armor. Occasionally, railgun rounds and energy beams would slip through adding to the carnage.
A human destroyer died as heavy weapons fire slammed into its energy shield, causing it to fail completely and leaving the armored hull unprotected. Hocklyn missiles, energy beams, and railgun rounds pummeled the helpless destroyer, leaving it a riddled wreck. The ship finally exploded in a fiery ball of energy as a nuclear missile detonated, finishing off the small 400-meter ship. Other human ships were also dying as they fell prey to the heavy fire from the enemy.
“Monarch cruiser Amethyst is down,” Stalls reported as the green icon representing the cruiser flared up and vanished from his screen. “Light cruisers Britta and Corales are down. Destroyers Stalker, Findley, and Dragon are down.”
Amanda winced as Lieutenant Stalls continued to call out destroyed human ships. She knew that many others were receiving grave damage from the heavy fire from the Hocklyn warships. They were beginning to lose too many ships. It was nearing time for her to order Second Fleet to withdraw.
Commander Evans continued to fight the WarStorm. The ship’s power beam and pulse laser batteries were firing non-stop. Occasionally, she would use a Devastator missile to knock down a Hocklyn energy screen. She gasped nervously as she felt the WarStorm shudder from several high explosive missiles impacting the shield. The shield held, and the WarStorm continued firing. If only they could use the more powerful Devastator Threes, this battle would be over quickly.
“Hard to port and bring all of our pulse laser batteries to bear on that war cruiser,” Evans ordered as the WarStorm continued to close on the enemy ship. “Stand by with Devastator missiles; I want to fire all tubes upon completion of the turn.”
-
In space, another war cruiser exploded and then another as their shields failed under the powerful onslaught of the human battlecruisers. Hocklyn escort cruisers were dying as the human destroyers and light cruisers pummeled them with every weapon they had at their disposal. Space was becoming littered with dead and dying ships.
The fighters from both sides continued to gyrate in their deadly game of cat and mouse as dozens of fighters from both sides were annihilated in bright, fiery explosions. For every two Hocklyn fighters that died, a Human fighter was lost. Missile trails and tracer rounds were everywhere, and space was lit up from the battle.
-
The WarStorm rocked as a Hocklyn missile penetrated her wavering screens and impacted the heavily armored hull. Amanda’s eyes flashed to the damage control console, seeing several red lights blink on indicating damage to the area of the ship the missile had impacted.
“Commander Evans, I believe it’s time for us to withdraw,” stated Amanda, feeling they had done what they needed to do. They had bloodied the Hocklyns, but
Amanda couldn’t afford any more losses to Second Fleet. She had to obey Admiral Streth’s orders to keep her command intact even though she would like to stay and finish off this Hocklyn fleet. “All ships change course to 230 by 12 and accelerate to 30 percent sublight,” she ordered over the ship-to-ship channel. “All fighters are to return to the carriers. We will jump in ten minutes.”
Instantly the human ships turned one hundred and eighty degrees and began accelerating away from the Hocklyns. The human fighters quickly disengaged and headed for their respective carriers. Unfortunately, not all of the human ships could escape. Two light cruisers and four destroyers had suffered catastrophic damage to their jump drives and, rather than be boarded by the Hocklyns, they turned with a vengeance and rammed the nearest Hocklyn ship.
The Hocklyns were ill prepared for this tactic, even though it was one of their own doctrines. A powerful Hocklyn dreadnought died as one of the light cruisers struck the Hocklyn ship almost head on, engaging the self-destructs on both ships. Both vanished in a series of powerful and deadly nuclear explosions.
Amanda watched the valiant deaths of the left behind ships on the main viewscreen in the Command Center, feeling pain as the ships sacrificed themselves one by one in blazing explosions as they rammed enemy ships. This was a war where neither side surrendered. She felt her eyes grow moist knowing that thousands of Fleet personnel had just died under her command. It was a part of being an admiral she absolutely hated, the need to send brave men and women to their deaths. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Commander Evans.
“All fighters have reached the carriers and have landed,” reported Evans, knowing how the admiral was feeling. War was difficult for everyone, especially the sacrifices that had to be made to keep the human race safe.
Amanda nodded and activated the ship-to-ship communications once more. “All ships, jump to system 920-J,” she ordered. “Commander Evans we will be the last ship to jump.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Evans responded. She knew the admiral would not leave until all of her other ships were safely away and the last fighter picked up.
In space, spatial vortexes formed in front of the individual ships of the human fleet and the ships dove into them, vanishing into hyperspace. As soon as a ship was gone the vortex collapsed, leaving no trace of it ever having existed. In less than forty seconds, the entire fleet had left the Hocklyn system.
-
Hocklyn Commodore Krilen gazed in anger at the sensor screen as the last human ship vanished. “They run!” he cried in frustration, his hand slapping the chest plate of his body armor.
“We will find them,” First Leader Angoth replied as he stepped up closer to the commodore. “I suspect they have not gone far. Shall I order some of our escorts to jump to the nearby systems to find where they have fled?” Angoth wanted to finish the battle; there was still much honor waiting if they could destroy this human fleet.
Commodore Krilen stood upon the command pedestal as he thought the suggestion over. He had lost a number of ships, including a dreadnought and four war cruisers. While he had hurt the human fleet, he had lost more ships than he had expected, and many others had suffered extensive battle damage. He also had orders from the High Council not to sacrifice his ships needlessly.
“No, Angoth,” replied Commodore Krilen, taking a deep breath. “For today, honor has been satisfied. Let us repair our battle damage and await reinforcements, then we will seek out the humans and destroy them.”
“As you command,” replied Angoth, keeping the disappointment out of his voice. “Much honor was gained today in this battle.”
Krilen let out a deep, cold breath as he thought over the battle; he knew that if the humans had not run they could have probably destroyed his fleet even though it would have cost them substantially. He wondered why they had disengaged. He put the thought from his mind, for now he needed to see that his own flagship was repaired. The 1,200-meter dreadnought IronHand had suffered several missile strikes during the battle, and its armored hull was covered with numerous scars.
-
The WarStorm dropped out of hyperspace and exited the swirling blue-white vortex in system 920-J. Around the WarStorm other ships were also appearing. In moments, the entire fleet was safely in the system and forming up on the flagship.
“Get me a report on ship losses and damage,” Amanda ordered as she let out a long sigh. They had made it safely away from the battle, and she knew it would take the Hocklyns some time to find them if they sent out their escort cruisers in a search pattern. Some of her ships needed to initiate major repairs before they jumped again.
The battle was over, and she knew that she had won. It had been costly, but it had served its purpose in allowing the Hocklyns to feel that they had stopped the human advance into their space. If all went as planned, the Hocklyns would spend some time consolidating their positions before pushing back into the space the Federation had taken away from them.
Commander Evans spent a few minutes speaking to various ship commanders and reviewing parts of the recent battle to determine their exact losses. When she was finished, she turned toward Admiral Sheen. “We lost one Monarch heavy cruiser, five light cruisers, and seven destroyers.”
“Hocklyn losses?” asked Amanda, recoiling inwardly at the ship losses. They had lost more ships than expected. Some of the commanders of those ships she had come to know very well. It seemed as if in every battle now she lost someone she knew.
“One dreadnought, four war cruisers, and twelve of their escort cruisers,” Commander Evans replied. “If we could have just used the Devastator Threes we could have destroyed their entire fleet!”
Amanda stood up and looked over at Evans. “The time will come when we can use those missiles. For now, we will stay in this system for twelve hours to conduct repairs, and then the fleet will go to the Careth system. Admiral Strong has constructed two fleet repair bays on their orbiting space station where we can repair our more heavily damaged ships. I will be in my quarters if needed. Take the fleet to Condition Three until we are ready to depart.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Evans replied as she prepared to pass on the orders. She knew she would be extremely busy for the next few hours.
Amanda walked through the WarStorm still feeling numb from the losses in the battle. It had been necessary, and they had achieved their goal, but she still hated losing people; she always would. Sometimes she still wished she were only an executive officer as she had been for Fleet Admiral Streth on the old StarStrike back in the original Federation.
Reaching her quarters, she went inside, sat down on the large comfortable couch, and closed her eyes. She sat there for several minutes as she thought about her actions in the recent battle; there was nothing she could have done differently.
Opening her eyes, she gazed across the small room at a picture of her parents that hung on the far wall. It was a photo of happier times when her parents had lived on Krall Island on Aquaria. It showed them standing in front of their vacation home on the popular resort island. She wondered what her parents would think if they could see her now. Closing her eyes again, she soon fell into a troubled sleep. In her dreams, she could see the worlds of the old Federation burning as the Hocklyns nuked the helpless planets.
-
Amanda awoke and was startled to see that nearly six hours had passed. The battle must have taken more out of her emotionally than she had thought. Standing up, she went into her bedroom and taking off her uniform, quickly took a refreshing shower. Stepping back out, she looked at herself in the large bedroom mirror. Her brunette hair was cut short, and her blue eyes stared back at her. Her stomach was flat, and she had all the right curves but not excessively. She was thirty-nine years old and had been in the Fleet since she was twenty. With the medical treatments available in the Federation, she was still considered to be very young.
She kept to a rigorous exercise routine to keep in shape. She knew that her husband Richard liked her figure, and just think
ing about Richard made Amanda realize just how lonely she felt. As an admiral, she could not allow herself to get too close to members of her crew. The only people she felt she could confide in were Commander Evans and a few others in the Command Center that had been on the old StarStrike.
After putting on a clean uniform, Admiral Sheen walked back through the flagship heading toward the Command Center. Whenever she passed a member of the crew, they halted and stood at attention as she passed. It took her a few minutes, and then she was back in the Command Center. After stepping through the heavily armored hatch and past the two marines that guarded it, she took her place at the command console in the center of the busy room.
“Ship repairs to the WarStorm are complete,” Commander Evans reported upon seeing the admiral. “Other ships report that they are making substantial progress and we should be ready to jump in a few more hours. I also made up a list of the casualties in the recent battle. It is ready to be sent to the Federation so next of kin can be notified.”
Amanda nodded and then noticed how worn out the commander looked. Amanda wondered how long it had been since Evans had gotten any sleep. “Samantha,” Amanda spoke in a sympathetic voice. “Go to your quarters and get some rest; I can handle this.”
Commander Evans nodded. She was too tired to argue. It only took her a moment to leave the Command Center and head toward her quarters.
Looking around, Amanda noticed that there had been a shift change during her absence. She saw that Lieutenant Karen Ashton from the old StarStrike was the only first shift officer still present. Amanda walked over to the lieutenant and touched her gently on the shoulder. “Lieutenant, aren’t you supposed to be off duty?”
“Yes, Admiral,” replied Ashton, looking up. “I did take a few hours, but I wanted to get the next few jumps plotted.”
Amanda nodded. Lieutenant Ashton was one of the best navigation officers in the Fleet. “Once you’re finished Lieutenant, go get some rest.”
“Yes, Admiral,” the young blonde replied with a nod. “I just have one more jump to plot and then I’ll go.”
The Slaver Wars: Retaliation (The Slaver Wars Book Five) Page 2