Star Crusader: Siege of Kalar

by Thomas, Michael G.

  “Colonel. We’ve heavily damaged two of the cruisers,” said Captain Delatorre, “We’ve got a gap we can use.”

  Gun nodded.

  “Good. Take us in closer to split the cruisers’ fire. Contact all of our pilots. Get back here. I want concentration of force. If we can’t have the numbers, then we will have to use superior tactics.”

  “Where do you want Katanga?” asked the General, “Should he move around them?”

  Gun looked to the screens and then to the old Byotai officer.

  “He can follow us in as agreed. We fight and die as one. No complications this time. We keep it simple, and we go for the win.”

  He looked to Spartan, and his expression softened. Spartan saw a hint of the old Gun, the warrior that could barely speak a coherent word back in the Uprising. A man who terrified all that saw him, and fled or fought at every point. He was transformed.

  “Get our troops ready, Spartan. If this falls apart, I’ll need boarding parties.”

  Spartan liked the sound of that.

  “If it comes to that, I’m coming with you. I’m not dying directing a battle from up here.”

  Spartan laughed.

  “Don’t worry about that, old friend. I’ll wake Z’Kanthu while I’m at it. It’s about time he did something useful today. He spends too much time sleeping as it is. The troops are ready at the rendezvous location. Just as well we made space aboard the transports, huh?”

  General Honorius looked confused.

  “Made space?”

  Spartan and Gun exchanged a smile, and he knew right then that something had been kept secret. He didn’t like it, but knew enough about this pair that they could be trusted.

  “I’ll get to my Jackal and join Khan and the others. He’s been working them hard since we left Karnak.”

  Spartan licked his lips, lifted his helmet, and placed it on his head. The visor remained open, but already he looked like the Spartan that Gun remembered.

  “Tell me where you need us, Gun. And we’ll be there, every damned one of us. Just don’t wait too long. I don’t want to be stuck in that hole, waiting for friends.”

  Spartan marched away towards the main entrance. As he reached it, a pair of Marine guards stepped aside to let him through. He moved out into the light and glanced back.

  “Gun. If this heads south, you know what to do.”

  Gun nodded.

  “Of course. We send every boarding party we have against Tabarzinn. We will gut her like a fish and smash her ruined carcass against what’s left of Kalar Anchorage. You, me, Khan, and the rest will end that ship.”

  With that Spartan left, leaving General Honorius dumbfounded with what he’d just heard. He’d fought alongside Humans before, but never had he ever met a pair quite like these two. They had no attachment to this area, and the war with the Star Empire was a Byotai affair. Yet for some reason unknown to him, they were more than happy to fight a genocidal last battle against them. Spartan sounded as though he was leaving the ship, though he had no idea why. He opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but Gun shook his head. It was evidently a taboo subject.

  Is this courage or insanity? Do they enjoy war more than peace?

  * * *

  Nate moved his hands nervously on the controls as five Mokku fighters flew past his nose. They were elegant looking things in rough silhouette, but as his eyes tracked the shapes, he could see crude features. Like many Star Empire craft, the Mokku were being mass manufactured as quickly as possible and were far from perfect. He’d seen one or two tear apart from little more than excessive g-forces.

  Without thinking, he pulled the trigger and activated the forward facing turrets. Each unleashed a short burst of fire, cutting two of them apart with ease. The other Phantoms joined in, leaving a single enemy to boost its engines to escape. A Hawkmoth clipped it with a short blast, and it began to lose control.

  “That was close,” said Nate, “I just…”

  He stopped talking as the surviving fighter ran into a transport shuttle, severing one of its flank engines, and sending the craft into a death spiral. He’d seem all kinds of crazy attacks before, but this one caught him by surprise. To his astonishment the shuttle remained relatively intact, turning away as another Mokku came in from below. Its guns hammered away and tore holes in the lower hull. In seconds the civilian craft was gone, yet another victim to the overwhelming assault by the Star Empire.

  This is crazy. What’s wrong with them?

  Nate had seen Technophobes up close on several occasions and still couldn’t understand the bitter hatred they held towards those supposedly tainted by the Biomechs. He’d never had a conversation with them, but he’d seen them rant and howl before throwing themselves into a fight. Whatever they’d been indoctrinated with, it was working.

  It has to be a mental modification, or some kind of drug regime. It has to be.

  Gunfire raced past the front of his Phantom as they soared above ANS Victorious in their wide formation. The ships were assembled behind the flagship and moving in an assault formation, just like the ones he’d seen in their combat drills. By separating into a wide dispersal formation, they could maximise their forward firepower at the expense of lateral manoeuvrability. Nate had seen the Confederate Class ships many times now, but as he passed over the upper superstructure, his gaze drew to the gigantic nacelle rings at the stern. To the uninitiated it looked like a double-ring space station attached to the rear, but he knew the unusual piece of technology was what gave the Interstellar Assault Brigade its ability to travel between worlds in an instant.

  “Uh…what’s going on?”

  He tracked their course and then double-checked on the computer. It confirmed, much to Nate’s surprise, they were not leaving the area at all. Valdis pointed to their left, where the enemy waited between them and the Anchorage.

  “They are heading for the Anchorage, you fool. And they are going in for the attack.”

  Nate could not believe it. They were outnumbered and outgunned, and now moving in to attack as though the odds were stacked up in their favour. Flashes of light along the bow section of Victorious marked the firing of the heavy guns, and Nate gasped with each volley.

  “Wow! Those ships…they are…”

  “Beautiful,” said Valdis.

  That was definitely not how Nate would have described them, but the effect was certainly mesmerising. The 255mm heavy bombardment cannons were truly a sight to behold, especially the burst of plasma discharging like flames from cannons with every shot. Each Confederate Class ship carried a pair of these awe-inspiring weapons. Even those guns paled when compared to the deadly power of the four particle cannons fitted around the mass drivers. The entire ship was built around its engines and particle cannons, and both were unique in the Alliance Navy. Though many ships now used the lower powered versions of particle beam weapons, this particular variant could fire highly charged pulses of energy that could explode a ship with every hit.

  “Look, they’re firing.”

  Though invisible under normal conditions, the dust and gas in the region around the station provided a fog like atmosphere, allowing the particle beam to appear to the naked eye. Most might assume the weapons would fire something like a thick laser, but the reality was much more impressive. A wide line did appear, but thick pulses travelled along it and smashed into their targets. Two concentrated their fire on a single Star Empire cruiser with devastating effect. Each pulse blasted off a large section, creating gaps for the next heavy blast.

  “Nate, watch out! Roll left.”

  It was Cassandra. He was so busy watching the unfolding battle between the metal giants he’d failed to keep an eye on events around him. It was a rookie mistake, and this time the cost could be high. If it had been anybody else he might have checked before acting, as right now he couldn’t see the danger. But Nate new Cassandra well. They might disagree on many things, perhaps even argue, but when it came to space combat he could completely rely upon
her. Her word was more than enough for him in a dogfight. Without giving it a second’s thought, he pulled on the stick. The heavy fighter rolled to the left and then hit the retro engines. It was enough to push him aside and out of the path of a pair of fighters. They raced on by, firing their forward guns.

  “Mahingans!”

  That name filled him with dread, even though he was now flying something much more capable. The Mahingans were the bane of Alliance fighter pilots, and just one of them could handle multiple Alliance and Byotai craft with ease. They were supposed to be rare, but with every battle Nate found they were coming across more and more of them. The medium fighters blasted away with their battery of eight 13mm autocannons. He’d moved out of the way, but the shots still raced ever so close. Some glanced off the right side of his fighter, and then they were gone. At least he thought they were.

  “Nate!”

  He looked to Valdis and then to the ship to their right. It was one of the Byotai warships, and it had just crashed into a single Anicinàbe light cruiser. Both vanished in a bright white and yellow light, but then as the flashes faded, the Byotai shipped burst through. It looked like a bulldozer smashing its way through a dusty wall. The lighter made Anicinàbe cruiser tore apart like wet tissue paper, scattering sections of its hull in its wake.

  “Wow,” said Nate, “I’m surprised they made it without…”

  One of the four long wing section tore along the top, and a substantial part broke completely away. Sparks flashed and crackled along the broken section, a cruel reminder of the dangers of starship collisions.

  “Okay, people, it’s game time,” said Holder, “Both sides are embroiled, and their fighter cover has weakened.”

  Nate took a breath, waiting for what he knew was coming. Flying in formation was a difficult thing to do, the plus side there was a single leader, and the rest worked to their command. Once the order to break formation was given, it would come down to individual pilots, and with that came added stress and responsibility.

  “All fighters, prepare to disperse in groups…on my command…now!”

  Nate pulled his control column to the right as he broke away from the dense formation of fighters. Four Hawkmoths stayed with him, following in the pattern they’d practiced before. They’d only had a matter of hours to train together, but even that small amount of time was paying off. A single Mokku drifted in front of them, and the Byotai pilots cut it apart mercilessly, pouring more shots than needed into the target. For Nate, it was combat, but to them revenge for the damage done to their old Empire.

  “Yes,” Nate said excitedly, “Another one down.”

  Valdis tapped the computer, checking for the enemy, and quickly identified the largest threat. Nate noticed the many icons popping up, reminding him how vastly outnumbered they were.

  “Got a group of three Mahingans moving in on the shuttles.”

  “I see them, moving in behind them now. Follow me.”

  The Phantom rolled about and accelerated after the powerful looking Star Empire fighters. The engines pulsed with power, pulling ahead of the Byotai fighters for several seconds. As they caught up, the group of five tracked the targets and prepared to fire. The Mahingans had very little in common with the Phantoms, with their crescent shape, thick wings, and asymmetric layout. Even the hull was a little odd, with two sections side by side, like a pair of pilot compartments. Nate knew from experience that only one carried a pilot, the other a powerful mass driver cannon, as well as a missile system capable of destroying a fighter.

  “Light ‘em up!”

  Nate pulled the trigger, and the main cannons behind him opened fire. The muzzle flashes unleashed hypersonic slugs straight ahead. The four Hawkmoths joined in, sending streams of smaller shells into the enemy. Valdis used two of the forward facing turrets to join in, sending a veritable cloud of projectiles directly ahead.

  “Impacts!” she said, “A lot of impacts!”

  Nate kept his eyes glued on the Mahingans as he fired. They were deadly opponents when in a conventional fighter, and he enjoyed the feeling of superiority, knowing he was now flying something that was much better.

  “Star Crusader!” called out one of the Byotai, “New targets, Mokku raiding party coming in from six-two.”

  “I see them,” said Valdis, “I’ll take them.”

  Nate nodded and replied to the other pilots.

  “We’ve got them. Keep on the heavies. They could cause a lot of casualties.”

  The five continue blasting the Mahingans, finally destroying one and cutting the wingtip of another, sending it fleeing off into the distance. That was the moment the Mokku fighters swept in. They opened fire from above, but Valdis was already shooting back. The eight turrets were devastatingly powerful and knocked out two before the others broke away in two separate formations.

  “I’ve got your back!”

  Nate grinned with happiness as Billy raced on by, his own Phantom blasting away, along with two of its escorting Hawkmoths.

  “Good work. Thanks.”

  Nate was so pleased that he missed the single damaged Mahingan. It was moving away, but rolled over at the last moment and opened fire behind them. The combination of its eight autocannmons and the single 75mm medium velocity mass driver proved devastating at close-range. The shells smashed into the rear of the Phantom, and a Byotai voice began speaking loudly. Nate had no idea what it meant, but on the status screen he’d lost control of half his thrust, and none of the rear sensors were working.

  “Somebody tell me what’s going on. How serious is it?”

  Nate rolled back to the right, and Billy moved in closer to examine the damage. Nate kept his hands firmly on the controls, doing his best to stabilise the craft. It should have been easy, but for some reason the damage was playing havoc with his positioning.

  “You took mass driver hits to the rear. You’re venting fluid, and I can see a lot of holes. I mean a lot.”

  Billy panted as he shifted to the right and back into position.

  “You shouldn’t be airborne, Nate. You’re one lucky…”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” He winced as he ran his eyes along the still functioning status indicators. Even without understanding the Byotai runic text, it was still obvious he’d taken a heavy hit. Ruptured pipes were a big problem. Apart from the obvious loss of critical lubricants, the flammable fluid pouring from several ruptured pipes could lead to engine shutdown, even worse would be the potential for explosions. The Phantom was a tough machine, but there were vulnerabilities deep inside the craft that could be exploited, and the heavy damage to the rear allowed the liquid to pour directly into the superheated exhaust of the engines.

  “Hold on. Gonna clear it now.”

  Nate looked to Valdis.

  “Fire suppressants system, ready?”

  Valdis nodded.

  “Good, do it!”

  He watched her finger reach for the unit and push the button. Unlike the rest of the internal systems, using the emergency override toggle could only trigger this particular one. It was completely independent of the computer system of obvious reasons, just like eject and self-destruct modes. Nate felt he was being pushed into his seat. Light cut out, and then every system went dead.

  “Uh…what happened?”

  Valdis panted from the exertion, but as the acceleration dropped, she could finally speak. From the cockpit, the view shifted as they started to spin uncontrollably.

  “Fire suppressors exploded, took out the main power, and who knows what else.”

  Nate shook his head with frustration. The battle was now at its most critical stage, and there was a good chance he was going to miss it all due to damage. He reached for the controls and pulled them, but absolutely nothing happened. This wasn’t atmospheric flight, where even a dead craft could be piloted if there were manual backups. A spacecraft required thrust to change course and velocity, and now they were dead in space.

  “Mayday, mayday!”

  Nate tried to s
ay more but then realised nothing was working, and that included the communications system. Then something else buffeted the fighter, and felt that he was sliding back further into his seat. He pushed hard against the forces, feeling a moment of relief as several lights activated. First came the life support, and then one by one the main systems came back. He looked to Valdis and was stunned to see she was out of her seat and bent over into the back, pulling on switches.

  “What are you doing?”

  She grunted as she pulled on one last lever, and at that moment, each of the small displays came to life.

  “Secondary power. This fighter has the same backup systems as the Komodo. This should be enough to get us home.”

  She moved back to her seat, and Nate boosted power to the left side to stabilise their course. The intercom system clicked back into life, and for a moment constant chatter drowned him out. There were the Alliance and Byotai fighter pilots, but also those controlling the shuttles, and the myriad of ships’ officers. With just a few commands, Nate shifted all the traffic to the background so that he was left to the command level only. Suddenly, the vast amount of sound vanished, replaced by the occasional sound from senior command.

  “Mayday. Mayday. We’ve sustained major structural damage.”

  Nate hesitated, wondering if perhaps his system was now only receiving. Valdis tapped the system herself.

  “We’re in big trouble, Nate. Look.”

  He lifted his eyes, and there before them was a damaged Star Empire cruiser. It was a big ship. Little different to that of an Alliance Liberty Class destroyer, and one of the vessels they’d spotted soon after leaving the Anchorage. The onboard computer flagged it up with text he couldn’t read, but he knew the silhouette already. It wasn’t one of the usual Anicinàbe Lander or Wildfire designs, but something newer. The rear was familiar, but the front sections were bulkier than normal and carried the partial ring sections for the simplified interstellar engines. What stood out more than anything were the six bulges, three per side, and pointing ahead.