by Danny Loomis
He watched in numb horror as the remaining destroyer speared into the side of the wounded battleship at a speed of over 100 gravities. The resultant explosion expanded to include the flanking ships. Seconds later the fireball died away, revealing two badly damaged battleships. His flanking dreadnoughts and heavy cruisers swept forward, their lasers tearing into both Alliance ships. Less than a minute later both were nothing more than dead hulks.
It took two tries for Carver to force words from his constricted throat. “Cease fire. All ships, stand down to Condition Yellow. Defensive position Beta-three, and plan on being here for no more than an hour.” He cleared his throat, forced a calmness he didn’t feel into his voice. “Send a damage report soonest. There will be a commander’s conference in five minutes. In the meantime, we need to assess what we’ve stepped into here.” He breathed a shaky sigh, reliving the total destruction of his entire division of destroyers.
“…And only minimal damage to the port force screens,” said Captain Albright of the heavy cruiser Trent.
“Thank you gentlemen,” Carver said. “Notwithstanding the loss of our destroyers, it looks as if the task force is still operational.” He looked at the thirteen faces on split screens in the tactical holo and struggled to keep despair from his face. His nephew had been Signals Officer on one of the destroyers. A point that hammered home the loss they all felt once the heat of combat was gone. My duty is with the living, he thought, lifting his head.
“Intel, what’s the latest on enemy strength?”
“At present, the enemy has eight ships between us and the planet, all less than twenty light-minutes from here. Another three are on picket duty near another nexus. Probably their main entry/exit point. Three more ships close to Edo, and what seems to be an additional ship on the far side of the star. Six larger transports are parked in low orbit around the planet, and from the commo activity it seems they’ve landed a division of storm troopers. Nothing moving towards us yet, but it’ll change in five minutes. That’s when they receive visuals.”
“What about the space station? Could that be a threat?” asked Commander Lissa Fairing, of the corvette Argyle.
“Probably not. We don’t feel they’ve been in-system long enough to convert it into a fortress. More than likely it’ll be a command and control problem,” Carver said. “Their present disposition of forces leads me to believe we have a chance to interrupt their invasion, maybe even chase them out of the system altogether. Captain Sander has come up with an excellent attack plan.”
Sander began punching keys to bring up a tactical display. “I’m sending all of you an ops plan, but to summarize, I think we need to penetrate to the low orbit of Edo and destroy those transports. Once that’s accomplished, we can back off and use the asteroid belt as a buffer. Should be able to keep pressure on them until more help arrives. I’d say go for the throat now, but we’re up against a lot of weight.”
He touched another key, showing enemy ships in red. “Most of the enemy ships are either battlecruisers or battleships. Which means we’re outweighed by almost three to one in offensive capability. Our interlocking defense systems are much better than theirs, but what we need here isn’t defense. A strong, well-coordinated attack will win the day.”
He keyed the tac screen to bring up an offensive pattern for the Confederation ships. “What I’ve recommended is that we move rapidly as possible towards the enemy with two dreadnoughts in front of the flagship, and two behind. Two heavy cruisers left flank, one heavy cruiser and three light cruisers to the right. One corvette will remain near the nexus, the other will penetrate well forward when we engage the enemy. Get as much electronic information as possible. Don’t get closer to Edo than three light-minutes, and retreat to the asteroid belt when there’s a threat to you. Beam all information you get to the other corvette. Once the battle is done, whether we win or lose, the rear corvette will translate back to Alamo fast as possible.
“What about us?” asked Captain Brill, commander of the York.
“You’ll be one light second straight above us, on stealth mode. I want all your Wasps recalled. Hold them hot and ready to launch at a moment’s notice. When we call for you, we’ll want max numbers to deploy, Stan. You’re the unknown element. They’ve never come up against a carrier and its ability to focus large numbers of Wasps at a moment’s notice.”
Carver held up a hand. “What you’ve just heard is our main plan. Lots more details in the communiques sent you, but basically we’re going straight in and get them to commit all their ships. Once they do, we hit them with fifty Wasps in the ass. If there are no more questions, we need to begin moving soonest. Let’s go kill some more Alliance ships, gentlemen.”
The screen blanked and the admiral sagged in his chair. Intel updates showed at least seven battlecruisers and one battleship in their first line of attack. Battlecruisers were equivalent to a dreadnought, with more armament and a bit more offensive firepower. Their battleships had at least a meter more laminated armor, and two additional capitol missile tubes than a superdreadnought.
Three more battlecruisers would probably reach the fight minutes after their first contact, raising the odds from improbable to impossible. Within an hour after that, three more ships could be upon them. If only they could get close enough to knock out the transports, they could ensure stalling the invasion until additional reinforcements arrived. One could only try, he thought grimly.
* * *
“Destroyed?” asked a shocked Admiral Haven. “How in heaven’s name…” He shook his head. Three battleships utterly destroyed in a matter of seconds.
“It seems they were too close to the breakout point, Admiral,” Lieutenant Commander Terrill, his Intel officer said. “We saw three enemy ships destroyed before the large explosion. I surmise one of the battlewagons was rammed by a fourth.”
William nodded. Of course, that would explain it. “Has Commodore Gerault begun moving towards them?”
“Yes, sir. They’ve shaken out into an attack formation and are moving at fifty gravities now. He said they’d be using the ‘Horns of Satan’ formation.”
Despite himself William chuckled. “Ever the showman. Notify the two battlecruisers with us to move out now. Also have the battlecruiser at our nexus point begin moving. Oh, and tell Captain Smithson to bring his battleship around from the far side of the sun and join us here.”
“How about us, sir?” Terrill asked.
William smiled. “We’ll wait. I want to see what they do first. Once they’re fully committed, we’ll move out. Do we have a final count on their ships?”
“At least five heavies. Thought we saw six, but we only count five now. One is likely to be a superdreadnought. Eight lighter craft are also left.”
“A bigger force than we anticipated,” the Admiral said with a frown. “We outweigh them by at least two or three to one, so it should be over pretty quickly. My only concern is why they didn’t retreat once they saw what they were up against.”
Commander Terrill shrugged. “Not sure, Sir, but I don’t see any surprises.”
“Neither do I. But I still don’t like it.”
* * *
“Looks like they’re moving into an envelopment stance, Admiral,” Captain Sander said.
“Excellent. Couldn’t have asked for a better dispersion of their offensive capabilities if I tried.” Carver leaned forward, tension beginning to mount as they neared the Alliance line of battle. With that style of a formation, you could only concentrate firepower at one location in space, to the front and center of your line. Anyone stupid enough to fly into that kill zone deserved what they got. The downside of their formation was how diluted your offensive fire became outside the kill zone.
“Captain, signal all ships. We’ll assume Position Alpha-two when we’ve fired our first salvo of missiles, at the left flanking ship. Follow up with decoy missiles and chaff to the right. Should make them hesitate a minute.”
Within seconds the approaching fle
ets were within extreme missile range. Just before entering the Alliance kill zone, all Confederation ships unleashed a salvo totaling 114 capital missiles at the battlecruiser furthest to their left. Within seconds it was followed by a barrage of decoy missiles, chaff and “warblers,” missiles that broadcast static across all commo bands except those used by Confederation ships. Ten ships turned left as one, and accelerated towards the flank of the oncoming Alliance formation. Return fire was slow in coming, as if their maneuver had caught the Alliance commander napping. Even so, the enormous number of missiles fired at them by Alliance ships made more than one Captain’s insides turn to jelly. In all, 96 missiles streaked towards them. It would have been more but the four battlecruisers on the far side of their formation were unable to do so, with the now bunched-up Confederation ships just beyond their range.
Confederation missiles impacted their target first. Thirty percent of the missiles lost their lock due to chaff and decoy missiles. Point defenses on the targeted battlecruiser flashed desperately, knocking out another twenty percent. That left forty-five missiles to hammer the force shields. Exploding warheads caused a coruscating display of light to cascade around the force field, which became overloaded from the sheer number of explosions.
Nanoseconds later the remaining twenty missiles struck. So many explosions at once caused the battlecruiser to heave in agony and begin breaking apart. An explosion marked the failure of the force field surrounding one of the two fusion bottles powering the ship. All that was left of the once powerful ship was an expanding gas cloud.
Before the confederation ships could get off their second salvo, the Alliance missiles struck. Rather than aim at one ship, they had been aimed at several. Interlocking defenses killed missiles by the dozens. Of the ninety-six fired, ten managed to impact on the force screens of three ships. One dreadnought had its left bank of het lasers blown away, while another lost a drive node.
The Confederation force salvoed another round of missiles at the next ship in line, and broke further left. A steady rain of missiles began to rain down on their formation. The furthest battlecruisers had finally wheeled to their right to add their firepower. At the same time the Alliance missiles managed to break through the defenses of two light cruisers, the Confederation missiles arrived at the second battlecruiser’s location. Again another Alliance ship died, but this time was joined by one of the Confederation light cruisers. The other cruiser, badly damaged, managed to pull out of formation and limp back towards the nexus.
During this time the battle drifted back towards the Edoan sun, with all the twisting and turning by both fleets making them circle around each other. The two battlecruisers approaching from Edo were within seconds of missile range, as was the one from the Alliance nexus.
“Now we’re for it,” Carver muttered, watching the Alliance forces stretch themselves to englobe his formation. Another second, and… “Tell Captain Brill to unleash his nest of Wasps,” he barked.
Two more times both sides exchanged missiles. Slowly both sides eased closer together, until it was a blink of time away from being within energy weapons range. It was also only moments until the Alliance achieved englobement. If that occurred, the Confederation ships would be doomed.
Abruptly two battlecruisers yawed wildly away, explosions ripping them apart. Dozens of Wasps harried their flanks, each one firing its proton accelerator, better known as a blaster, into any vulnerable point they could find. Rapid fire particle beamers, normally easily stopped by a force screen, were also finding holes to bore through. A third ship dropped out of line.
Carver directed his superdreadnought through a gap, and launched an all-out attack on the battleship. Beams of energy lanced out from both ships, spearing each other. More Wasps swarmed across the entire Alliance fleet, at ranges so close it would normally have been suicide. Distracted by the battle, no one had seen them until it was too late.
The exchange was anything but one sided as a Confederate dreadnought yawed out of the line of battle, spewing life pods just before it disintegrated into a fiery ball. Two heavy cruisers stayed in formation more out of desperation than ability, as they streamed air. A second dreadnought lost its primary laser and four missile tubes. The Alliance battle line began withdrawing, even with the added weight of three more newly arrived ships.
“All ships, fall in behind the flagship. We’re going in,” Carver said in a calm voice, a white knuckled grip on his arm rests the only sign of his tension. Action broke off for the handful of seconds it took for the Confederation ships to fall in line. They accelerated, quickly catching up to the retreating Alliance forces. In all, the Alliance still had six ships, two with moderate damage, facing the nine ships making up the confederation forces. The fact that four of the Confederate forces were heavily damaged didn’t slow them.
“Sir, the space station. It’s moved,” the Signals officer said. Carver jerked his attention from the imminent action to stare at his ops officer.
“What happened, Stan? Did they blow it?”
“Nossir. Looks as if it moved out of orbit several minutes ago.”
Carver looked puzzled for a heartbeat, then his eyes narrowed. “Damn. A moving fortress.”
“Incoming missiles!” the Signals officer snapped.
“How many, and what target?” Carver asked, focusing his attention back on the Alliance line of battle, which had now stopped.
“One hundred thirty, sir,” was the choked reply, “All locked on the Camelot.”
The admiral stared disbelievingly at the Alliance line of battle, as a large ovoid shape joined them. “One last missile barrage by everyone at the largest ship. Then begin evasive maneuvers. All ships will exit this system soonest.”
The ship shuddered from multiple launches of missiles, and Captain Sander turned to the Admiral with a white, set face. “Sir, we’ve got five seconds before arrival of missiles.”
“Understood, Captain,” Carver said, leaning back in his chair for the first time in an hour. “Drive straight ahead. Give them the narrowest target possible.” Knowing the futility of that order against the swarm of approaching missiles, Sandor smiled and saluted. “It’s been a pleasure serving with you, Sir.”
The admiral returned his smile and salute. “Likewise, Captain. Likewise.”
* * *
Captain Brill closed his eyes on the scene of retreating confederation ships, underscored by the explosions ripping the Camelot apart. He gave a quick shake of his head and brought his thoughts back to his own ship, the York. “Continue in stealth mode, Ops. Move us towards the asteroid belt. Gently, though, very gently. There’s no support now.”
“What’s our next move, Sir?” Lieutenant Commander “Scotty” Searles asked.
“We’ll go into parking orbit around the largest asteroid and wait for our Wasps to sneak back to us.”
Scotty looked relieved. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll pass word to them now, if that’s okay.”
Before Brill could answer, a low bonging sound flooded the bridge. “Contact dead ahead,” the signals officer said. “Looks like a space buoy of some type.”
“Is it giving off any signal?” asked Brill.
“No, sir. Just seems to send out an occasional blip of radio static. Must be marking a hazard point, or act as a guide of some sort.”
“Navigation, you know of any shipping hazards around here?”
“Negative. Our charts of this system aren’t very good, so I’d advise caution,” he responded.
“Ping it, Signals. Let’s see what it’s warning us from. And keep it a very low energy pulse,” Brill said.
“Aye, Sir. Sending now.” There was a squawk of sound from the speakers as the buoy released a rapid-fire signal pulse, not towards them but tangentially. Brill sat up, fully alert. “Where’s that signal headed?”
Signals Officer Parker leaned forward tensely, eyes riveted to his screen. “Towards the asteroids, sir—Oh, Damn! To the Alliance’s big ship, Captain.”
Brill began punching keys, bringing up a holo of space within five light-seconds of them. “Navigation, I need a plot out of here. Soonest, if you please.”
“Sir, the safest route at the moment is towards Edo,” Lieutenant Commander Lawton said. “We could reach a stable orbit around its moon on the back side.”
“Make it so. Scotty, tell your pilots to head towards Edo, as if to land. Maybe we can snag them without being seen.” What an idiot, he stormed to himself. Fell for the oldest trick in the book. He shook the thought away and focused on the problems at hand.
“There’s still a battlewagon circling the planet, Captain. If they try real hard, they’ll pick us up even through our cloaking, we’ll be so close to them,” the Operations Officer said.
“What’s our chances to reach the asteroid belt if they’re on full alert?”
“Slim to none, Captain,” Lawton said.
“And if we get behind the moon?”
“Fair chance of not being seen in the short run.”
“I’ll take the short range plan for now, people. Move it.”
* * *
Linked in to the tactical computer Ian was able to watch the unfolding of the space battle, to include the retreat of the remaining Confederations ships. So far it looked as if two heavy cruisers and one dreadnought would make it to the nexus. All three had been damaged, but not as badly as the remaining ships, which were even now being harried to extinction by the victorious Alliance fleet. Ian shook his head, as a flare signaled the destruction of another ship. Being strapped in to an attack shuttle during the entire battle had been frustrating, to say the least.
“Yo, Irish, when we gonna get out of this tin can? I gotta piss like a direbeast,” Pointy said.
“Use the plumbing under your seat. We’re going to be here awhile longer, folks.”
Warrant Boudreau had been linked in to the tactical screen along with Brita, and both had kept up a running commentary for the sake of the rest of the squad. The hours-long battle had left all of them drained. Most had been able to catch short naps, but now the length of time spent penned up in the shuttle was beginning to fray everyone’s nerves.