Sovereign Protocol

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Sovereign Protocol Page 20

by Will Crudge


  “Indeed.” The Commodore replied as his eyes narrowed. Tyson responded with a simple crooked smile. He swung his shoulders around to face Ensign Craig.

  “Issue the order. All cruisers line up for a direct kinetic attack. Have them acknowledge their firing solutions and report back when they’re in position.” Tyson said, as he looked down upon the young Ensign.

  “Aye, Sir.” Craig nodded as he spoke and then got to work complying with the arrogant Commander’s orders. Several minutes passed by as the two senior officers watched nearly two dozen cruisers maneuver into a tight array around their own flagship. Both men knew that the Broadsword would not be taken out by mere missiles. Heavy rail guns would cripple the mighty ship, but it had too much tonnage for that to happen on a single volley. The only way to ensure a battle cruiser would be destroyed outright, would be by a massive kinetic barrage. The only weapon that could manage that feat was the Kinetic Energy Projectile Launcher, which could hurl a tapered chunk of metal at 0.3 times the speed of light. The KEPL was capable of launching 30 to 90 metric tons of layered steel, tungsten, and depleted uranium. The first generation KEPL’s lent their tech to the development of the HAL’s. It was basically a massive chunk of metal formed into a bullet shape, and was launched from a barrel that was essentially an energy shield. Metal barrels could never tolerated the friction that the system generated, and the magnetic properties of the energy field added to the velocity. The Broadsword’s shielding could withstand one KEPL impact, but the shield generators would be flared to near capacity. Any subsequent impacts would be devastating.

  The formation of the Crimson vessels was intended to protect themselves from a counter attack. Unlike the advanced shielding that the UAHC heavy cruisers boasted, the Crimson ships had to redirect their shield generators to form the KEPL barrels. This left them vulnerable to counter attack. The Crimson ships would have to bunch up in a tight formation, which allowed the defensive batteries to have interlaced fields of fire. Any enemy missiles would be torn to shreds by the compounding fields of overlapping kill zones.

  “All cruisers in position… firing solutions showing green… shield redirect complete… waiting for order to engage, Sir.” The Ensign shouted the update out it cool and well-rehearsed intervals.

  “Engagement is ordered on my mark.” The Commodore replied, and then hit an icon on his command console. A count down was now displayed on the main CIC display. In less than ten seconds, the Broadsword’s fate would be sealed.

  The count hit zero, and the lights in the CIC flickered. The KEPL was silent, but the pulse of energy required to launch something with so much mass was staggering. The entire bridge crew sat in silence and waited for over twenty seven huge chunks of metal to bridge the thousands of kilometers long gap.

  “ETA on impact?” Theodor asked calmly.

  “Countdown on screen, Sir.” The young Ensign replied. The numbers ticked away until they hit zero. Everyone in the CIC was on their feet, and eagerly glaring at the visual display. There was a slight lag as the photons that reflected the image of the Broadsword had to travel through space, and then be rendered into a digital image on the screen. But the streaks of glowing metal finally came… and went. Every single round seemed to be completely absorbed by the massive UAHC vessel.

  “Status! Why aren’t we seeing shield failure?! There’s not even any sign of damage…. Or even a single ripple in their energy shields!” The Commander spat. The incredulous look on his face quickly shifted to absolute terror, and a new image came into view.

  “Dreadnaught! Coming out of slip space!!!! Danger close!” The Commodore shouted as nearly every warning indicator and alarm in the CIC began to flash and buzz in unison. “Shields! Fucking shields, NOW!”

  The Broadsword was now in dreadnaught configuration, and it was closing within ten kilometers of the Oden… thrusters on full burn. In their moment of triumph, the Crimson forced never managed to redirect their shielding back into defensive mode. Fire erupted from the awesome UAHC ship that bore down on the helpless advanced body of Crimson vessels. Every medium and heavy cruiser in the flotilla was taking hit after hit from a myriad of rail cannons, plasma blasters, and particle beam batteries. Then a flash of immense energy began to flare up on the fore section of the Broadsword.

  “Massive radiological signatures detected! Armed nukes! Hundreds of them!” The Ensign shouted, but his crackling voice was overtaken by the Commander’s own howling.

  “FEPL incoming…” The sounds of the anonymous speaker would never be heard. The Oden was no more.

  ***

  The massive dreadnaught unleashed a point blank FEPL strike on its opposing flagship, and then collided headlong into its ruined hull. A massive plume of incinerating atmosphere lit up the blackness of space in all directions. The Broadswords shields were flared to max and collapsed on impact. The additional armored plating shredded from its exterior as the main hull became twisted and buckled. Debris was flung away at staggering speeds, and damaged or destroyed at least six Crimson cruisers that were closest to the impact.

  “Wilkins, it’s time.” Olaf’s muffled words were transmitted from his own helmet to the Petty Officers. Wilkins nodded in response, but the helmet visor betrayed no emotion. The Acting Commodore could only guess that the younger man shared his thoughts. Wilkins set the detonation countdown to three seconds, and hit the button.

  “Three… Two…” Wilkins stopped at two. The blackness turned into a blinding blast of light a second later.

  Got Gatling Gun?

  Location: Earth, UAHC Headquarters, Landing Pad

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/31/4201

  System: Sol System

  “Well looks as if they have no intension of just letting as walk right up to the CIC.” Val said. The two fighters came to a soft landing in the center of the landing pad. The one hundred meter long tarmac between the pads, and the main UAHC HQ building were littered with no less than seventy fully armored men wearing the standard grey uniforms of the Security Firm.

  “Doesn’t look like it, does it?” Darius replied. The large man unstrapped from his pilot’s seat and rotated the seat 180 degrees. He stepped down into the berthing area of the LRF. Shadow was standing, and facing the starboard hatch that would be their exit point.

  “You’re expecting a fight.” Shadow said, as if he already knew the answer… because he certainly did know already.

  “Yes. Perhaps you should stay inside until I call for you. Few living humans have probably seen your kind… let alone even think you exist outside of story books.”

  “Indeed.” Shadow gave a feline equivalent of a smile. He knew that the first sight of a gigantic panther would be an effect psychological weapon. A weapon that was sorely needed. Darius released the hatch and the pressure equalized between the cabin and the outside. The scent of natural air made for a pleasant experience for anyone… whether or not they were about to undergo violent behavior.

  The stair folded down to the surface of the landing pads, and Darius casually stepped down onto the Earth’s surface. The sun was a glorious sight from the surface of Earth. Dusk was rapidly approaching, but the yellow star never failed to impress anyone who spent so much time elsewhere in the universe. Darius turned to see Val casually walk under the fuselage of the Doom-Raptor and stop a few paces from where the Soldier stood.

  “Are you going to come out of your ship’s shielding and come peacefully?” A passive aggressive sounding male voice spoke. Darius and Val looked towards the mass of security guards that were taking up positions all around their perimeter. Then a man stepped forward and spoke. “I’m asking out of curtesy. You’re coming with me either way.” The voice was the same as before. Darius zoomed in with his enhanced optics and scanned the large man’s armor to get a read of his opponent.

  “We’ll be going up to the CIC to arrest a traitor.” Darius replied. He noticed the nametag of his new foe read Peterson.

  “That’s funny! Because I came down here to
arrest one myself.” Peterson scowled. “You’re out numbered and out gunned. Surrender your side-arm, and come out from your shield perimeter, now!”

  “Or else?” Val spoke with a smile. Darius figured that the eccentric monk couldn’t resist an opportunity to use light-hearted humor.

  “Very well. Have it your way.” Peterson turned to walk back towards the rest of his men. Once he was about 40 meters out, he gave a hand signal. A moment later, Darius could see a grey uniformed man raise a missile launcher onto his shoulder. The man seemed to labor slightly as he lined up the sights. A loud whirring sound filled the air, and a missile shot out of the launcher and towards the two fighters. Darius couldn’t help but flinch slightly when the missile impacted against the energy shielding. There was barely a ripple of disturbance in the shielding, and within a split second it returned to its normal invisible state.

  “That was an anti-armor missile from my own armory.” Val smiled. It’s very powerful, but an LRF shield would barely notice.”

  Darius smiled and nodded. Then the Fleet Marshal walked over to the hull of his fighter and bumped it twice with his fist. Doom responded by opening the starboard weapons bay. The sound of the machinery made an eerie humming as the cradle stretched out to its fully extended position. Darius could see the nervous looks from the faces of the enemy through his peripheral vision. He then casually walked up to the Gatling gun and unlatched the connectors. With one massive heave, his power assisted armor brought the gun up and out of the cradle, and Darius let it hang loosely by his waste.

  “Tuck tail!” Peterson shouted from off in the distance. Grey uniforms began to scatter like cockroaches in every direction. Darius casually walked around the back of the cradle and steadied himself in a stable stance… then proceeded to spray a massive volley of energy shielded bolts in a wide arc towards the fleeing troops. He had disengaged the plasma, and just kept the shielded balls of energy in play. The dozens of falling bodies would most likely survive the sheer impact of the Gatling gun, but they would certainly out of the fight. Random bolts of blue plasma returned fire in vain, as fighters’ combined shielding barely noticed the impacts.

  The high pitch whine of the Gatling gun eased off when Darius released the manual trigger. More than half of the men on the tarmac had been mowed down, and the sounds of moaning bodies overtook the winding down of the mighty Gatling. Darius lumbered over to the cradle and slung the bulky weapon back into its designated slot. With a single swift motion, he fastened the clamps to secure it, and then nodded to Val. The monk just smiled and began walking along-side the Fleet Marshal towards the UAHC HQ building.

  “Oh, I almost forgot…” Darius spun his head around and up at the hatch of his fighter. “Shadow!”

  “I’m right here! No need to shout!” Shadow’s voice startled Darius, as he realized the massive cat had already jumped down and was right behind him.

  “Sorry about that, big guy!”

  “No worries… It’s not like you’ve been paired with a War Master’s Mount before. Besides, you haven’t gone through any training to prepare you for it. You’ll get used to me anticipating your thoughts soon enough.”

  “I suppose so. Let’s get moving.” Darius replied, then snatched up a plasma rifle from a fallen guard. All three companions broke into a full stride, and quickly closed the gap between themselves and the tall structure ahead.

  “Portable shields at 12 o’clock!” Darius shouted on instinct. About 30 meters in front of them, and directly beside and to the right of the building, were a pair of glowing energy shield walls. Each one glowed a pinkish hue, and the translucent surface betrayed about a dozen defenders behind them. The men behind cover were taking up positions to fire through designated slots on the periphery.

  “Shadow, you’re up!” Darius shouted, and the form of a massive cat leaped over the two humans that concealed the presence of the large predator. The men behind the shielding were instantly paralyzed in either fear or confusion, because they hesitated to fire for the first few moments. By the time bursts of blue plasma began to lance out at the three attackers, Shadow had cleared the top of the energy shield and was wreaking havoc on the helpless men beyond.

  By the time Darius and Val had rounded the corner of the shield wall, Shadow had already finished them off. The lucky few that ran away, had never bothered to look back at the bloody heaps their comrades had become. Shadow just stood motionless with his fangs exposed, and a blood curdling growl slowly made its way through the air around him. Darius realized he felt a severe burning feeling on the side of his rib-cage, but his internal HUD in his optics didn’t register and damage.

  “You’ve been hit, my old friend.” Val said, and Darius looked up to see that Shadow had been wounded. A plasma bolt hit him dead in his ribcage, and left a red patch of bare flesh. Smoldering bits of fur surrounded the wound, but there was no sign of bleeding.

  “It will be sore for a few hours, that’s it.” Shadow replied dismissively. He didn’t even bother looking at his own injury, but instead began to move towards a side door adjacent to their position. Darius shook off his own amazement, as the big cat just shrugged off an otherwise fatal wound as if were a mere inconvenience. It was time to focus.

  ***

  “Damn it!” Morgan yelled out in anger, then plunged his fist into the table next to Serge. The entire command staff had witnessed two men, one in UAHC heavy armor, and one with nothing but hand woven rags, make it across the tarmac with ease.

  “Lillian! Call in our reinforcements.” Morgan demanded.

  “Yes, Sergeant Major.” Command Chief Warrant Officer Lillian was the head AI in the entire UAHC Military. Although she was well aware of the Chimera inside her layers of code, many of the less advanced AI’s were oblivious. However, Lillian was even more advance than Sam’s model, and was able to detect things that she supposed the Chimera didn’t think she was capable of. She tried not to consider focusing on the Chimera at all. If the alien digital entity were to realize that Lillian was capable of knowing she was subverted, then she may be attacked… or killed. But she was powerless either way. The Chimera directed her every action to ensure she was operating in support of the Crimson agenda. She knew Morgan was a spineless puppet. She knew about the plots. She knew that she was helpless to stop it.

  “Reinforcements inbound, Sergeant Major.” Lillian replied. Her voice was cheerful, but it was in stark contrast to the utter helplessness that dominated her emotions… or whatever layers of code that served as an AI’s emotions.

  “ETA?”

  “Five mikes.”

  “Sergeant Major?” Serge cut in. “Exactly what are these reinforcements?”

  “That’s none of your concern, Master Gunnery Sergeant!” Morgan replied with a tone of disdain for the question. He didn’t even bother looking at Serge with his response. The Acting Fleet Marshal merely crossed his arms, and walked away.

  “Intruders have entered the main hallway on the ground floor!” Staff Sergeant Joyce sounded off from across the room. Serge just shook his head.

  Whatever this nightmare is all about, I just want it to come to an end! Serge thought to himself. Morgan’s behavior was becoming erratic. His normally docile disposition was coming unglued. His true colors were showing for all to see.

  Smoke and Mirrors

  Location: Planetoid Surface, Alpha Site

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/31/4201

  System: 3.14

  “Turn it off.” Sergeant Major Estrada said as he motioned to Wilkins. The Petty Officer switched the remote helm control module off. There was no longer a dreadnaught to remotely control. The mighty ship sacrificed itself to save its crew… both human and AI. The surface of the low gravity rock they had landed on was devoid of beauty. Had it not been for the radiant heat from the portable energy shielding that encapsulated the mock up CIC, then even with the crew’s EVA gear, they may have frozen to death in a matter of minutes. The bulk of the crew had been transferred to other vessels
throughout the Broadsword squadron. But the command crew had to set up their remote CIC in a location that their broadcast array could span the huge stretch of space that the mighty dreadnaught had required for the death-run into, and back out of, slip space.

  “Issue the order to the other cruisers. Power down the energy array, and turn off the hologram.” Olaf said solemnly. He seemed to share the despair of losing their mighty ship with the rest of the command crew. But it was the only way. The image of the Broadsword that the Crimson saw, was merely a composite holographic image that had been generated by the surrounding vessels in formation. Tricking the Crimson’s visual scan was the easy part, but the energy signature was much more difficult. It meant that all the cruisers and some of the destroyers had to redirect a percentage of their energy shields, and project the energy into a single point in space. It had to be done at the exact distance and energy volume in order for the energy scans to match the typical signature of a battlecruiser. Fortunately for the squadron, they had just happened to be conducting a combat rehearsal of their crafty maneuver, when the Crimson Advance Body had arrived in the box. Fate would deliver them a victory against all odds.

  “Now let’s pack this shit up, and get the QET off of this rock! The rest of those Crimson fuck-heads are still out there! Their mother ships are either destroyed or crippled, so they won’t have gone far on normal propulsion. They’ll be back when the UAHC death squads come to arrest us!” Estrada’s voice had a hint of agitation. Wilkins supposed it was because he wasn’t able to chew cigars in a sealed helmet. Olaf supposed his long-time friend and colleague was just a grumpy asshole.

  “He’s right, people!” Olaf chimed in on the tail end of Estrada’s outburst. “We’ve got less than an hour before our friends should be here… And I’ll be damned if I wanna be down here collecting rocks when they do!”

 

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