by Mike Smith
They could slice a warship in half with a single shot.
The guns had never been fired in anger, having only been periodically test fired during their one hundred and fifty years. Their age did not detract from their awesome ability in the least. The original designers would have been proud that, so long after construction, they were finally being put to use, fulfilling the task that they had been designed for—to punch through heavily armoured warships, to make a hole through enemy fleet formations, to lead the way into battle.
The pair of parallel conducting rails that propelled the massive projectiles ran for over three hundred meters, almost a quarter of the length of the ship, each magnetic field generator reinforcing the next, which meant that by the time the first round left the muzzle of the barrel it was travelling at a fraction of the speed of light.
The projectile shot out across the intervening depths of space, striking a light destroyer across the bow, just as it had been in the process of coming around to target the approaching Confederation warships. The kinetic energy imparted by the collision was enough to shear off the bow of the destroyer, along with a further two hundred meters of superstructure. The bow of the ship simply vanished in the resulting heat and light of the explosion. When the light from the impact finally dissipated nothing but an expanding cloud of dust remained, the bow of the ship simply gone.
The Invincible did not wait to see the result of the horrific impact, as already its other railguns were firing, one after the other, firing sequentially, as the guns simply could not draw enough power to fire in parallel. Each projectile fired unerringly found its target, as the front line of the enemy armada collapsed in upon itself under the devastating fire from the aging battleship. This resulted in a hole large enough for the Confederation Fleet to slip through, and then they were amongst the enemy ships.
The rest of the Confederation Fleet immediately opened fire. Their combined railguns, pulse cannons and particle beams tore into the enemy ships, leaving nothing but a trail of death, destruction and debris in their wake. Even this was only an introduction to the fearsome carnage that was soon to follow.
“Launch fighters,” Jon ordered. “Signal the rest of the fleet, target missiles. Launch at will.”
From the dorsal and ventral launch tubes of the carriers and flagship, wave after wave of fighters and bombers started to appear, launched from their motherships by the artificial gravity and centrifugal forces of the ships rotation. They opened fire almost immediately upon launch, the fighters darting in and out of the enemy warships, their smaller railguns and pulse cannons targeting enemy sensors, point defence weapons and gun batteries, as their less powerful weapons were unable to penetrate the dense armour surrounding these ships.
They didn’t need to, as immediately behind them came the next wave of heavy bombers, with their missiles and torpedoes streaking from their launch rails, targeting the now blind and defenceless warships.
Those ships lucky enough to survive the first wave, didn’t fare much better than their comrades, as the Confederation warships’ hulls started to retract once again, this time to reveal launch tubes of their own. Their outer doors swung open to reveal the row upon row of warheads of the heavy rockets secreted within. The sight of the 4th Fleet launching that barrage was awe-inspiring, as wave after wave of flaming death lifted off, each and all finding their mark, tearing the heart out of the enemy fleet.
“We’re almost through,” the Operations Officer announced relieved. Indeed, the last of the enemy ships disappeared from the view-screen, revealing nothing but empty space and the silhouette of the massive station, Terra Nova, hanging motionless between the stars directly ahead.
Their journey through the enemy fleet had not been without significant cost however. For every ship they destroyed one, two, five or ten more took its place. They had lost over half their escort frigates from the enemy weapons fire; one of their destroyers had been destroyed, with another cruiser reporting heavy damage. Even then the losses could have been far, far worse but, as Jon had predicted, many of the enemy ships had held their fire, the risk of hitting another friendly ship in the closely packed formation just too great.
For the Confederation Fleet the worst was still to come. The ferocity of their assault, combined with the closely packed enemy formation, had, until then, both worked in their favour.
Advantages that were soon about to disappear entirely.
“Helm, one-hundred and eighty degrees on the horizontal axis, bring us around, reverse course, then full power to engines. Signal the rest of the fleet to do likewise.”
The Confederation ships flipped about on their axes, pointing back the way that they had just come. Their engines were at full power, and they desperately tried to bleed off their speed, as they started to brake. Meanwhile the Confederation Fleet once again started to shift formation, but this time forming a defensive line between the enemy armada and the station.
“Signal Terra Nova to commence the evacuation,” Jon ordered hurriedly. “All other ships are ordered to hold this position, and resume firing. We hold this line.”
*****
“Lieutenant, message from the Invincible, they are in position and we’re to commence the evacuation,” Chris reported.
“Very well,” David acknowledged. “Notify the flight deck that they are to launch the first group of shuttles. As soon as they’re clear, start loading the next batch. Order security and marines to oversee the civilians, make sure they’re all aboard and then order them to follow in the last of the shuttles.”
“Lieutenant, it looks like we have another problem,” Chris reported. “Sensors from the docking ring report that we now have five hard docking seals, but they should all be empty. My guess is that some of those enemy assault shuttles made it through our defensive fire and have managed to dock.”
“As if we don’t have enough problems already,” David cursed. “Can you isolate the docking ring from the rest of the station?”
“No sir,” Chris shook his head. “The damage is too severe on the docking ring. I’ve lost all remote access, it’s a miracle that any of the sensors are still functioning.”
“Very well,” David sighed, getting to his feet, heading for the small arms locker that was kept in the command centre for emergencies. “You have the C&C until I get back.”
Chris gaped as David withdrew a large assault rifle, stuffing spare clips into his multiple pockets. “Where the hell are you going? Sir?” he added after a momentarily pause.
“My security teams and the marines are busy overseeing the evacuation. We’ve nobody else left to spare. I’m Head of Security, and I damn well plan to secure my own station. I promised that bastard Malthus that I would shoot the first person that stepped aboard, and I plan to keep my promise. You’re in charge until I get back.”
*****
“We’ve lost the Illustrious,” the Operations Officer reported, grim faced. Not that anybody took any notice, as every eye was already drawn to the view-screen showing the heavy cruiser, fires clearly visible from multiple hull breaches. One of those fires must have reached an ammunition magazine and many of the bridge crew shuddered at the resulting explosion, which tore a massive hole amidships. The ship started to break apart as it tumbled and fell, a death knell that it was never to recover from.
Sitting motionless, watching the unfurling scene on the view-screen, Jon wondered how many crew were on that ship. A thousand? Two? He doubted more than a handful would have had time to make it to the escape pods in time.
“Tighten our formation. Close the gap. Keep firing,” Jon ordered, emotionlessly. “What is the progress of the evacuation?”
“The station reports that fifteen shuttles have departed so far, and they are fifty percent complete. They report they should be finished in twenty more minutes.”
“Then that is how much longer we have to wait,” Jon said. “How long that we must hold this position.”
“And what happens then?” the Operation
s Officer inquired, but nobody voiced an answer to that question, knowing they all shared the same eventual fate as the Illustrious.
*****
“We cannot just sit here and do nothing,” Miranda exclaimed. “We need to help Jon.”
“With what?” Paul said in a resigned tone. “I’ve already told you just how many ships Malthus has, there is nothing that we can do. Even if we were to take the Relentless and her escorts we wouldn’t stand a chance. Where are you going?” he demanded suddenly as Sofia stood up.
“I’m going to help my husband,” Sofia insisted. “I took a vow at our wedding that we would protect one another, and I am not doing much good sitting around here doing nothing.”
“There are too many of them Sofia,” Paul shook his head. “Malthus has an armada with him.”
“Well I’ll just have to go and find an armada of our own then, won’t I?” she insisted, storming off the bridge.
*****
It turned out that finding an armada was far easier than commanding one. Sofia blinked at the remaining nine Confederation Fleet Admirals, all staring back at her in astonishment.
It had been easy enough to summon them, for she still had access to all her husband’s files and systems. It seemed he had never removed her access, even though he thought her long dead. She decided to give that some serious thought at a later date, after she had her husband back, safe and well.
She had never used the holographic conferencing software before, and found the resultant effect most disconcerting. Ignoring this, she instead met each of the Fleet Admirals gazes, in turn, before replying. “I don’t understand your hesitation, Jon Radec your Lord, and Emperor needs your support immediately.”
At this all nine Admirals nodded in agreement, but it was Admiral Flintoff that was the first to voice their concerns. “Lady Radec, if Emperor Radec summons us we will all depart immediately—but he has not.”
“He’s a little busy at the moment,” Sofia snapped, fast losing her patience. “He asked me to pass on the message in his stead.”
At this the Admirals shifted nervously, but none were willing to meet her gaze. “Only the Emperor can command us, my Lady, or the Senate of course,” the Admiral hedged.
“They’re all dead!” she exploded in frustration.
“We know Lady Radec,” another Admiral added. “Hence why we said that only the Emperor could order us. It has been that way for over five generations. Ever since Edward Aurelius founded the Imperial Navy.”
“Then my great, great grandfather was an imbecile.” Sofia ground her teeth together in frustration. “Can’t you see what is happening? Look around you. First Harkov, then Romanov and now Alexeyev. Which of you is going to be next? I am no military expert but even I can recognise that Malthus is picking you off one-by-one. It’s the oldest strategy in the datapad—divide and conquer. Only if we stand together, united, can we fight him. If you each insist on acting independently, Malthus will continue to be victorious, until none of you are left.”
The Admirals continued to glance at each other nervously, but still none would support her.
“This is my husband. He is out there fighting and dying at this very moment. Not to mention tens of thousands of fellow sailors. Do none of you care? For I tell you all now, that if the situation were reversed and it was one of you out there, my husband would not hesitate to come to your aid.”
“I’m sorry my Lady, there is nothing that we can do until we receive orders from our Emperor,” Flintoff apologised.
His silhouette wavered, before vanishing entirely.
“Please, I beg of you.” Sofia knelt before those remaining, crying, tears leaving streaks down her cheeks. “Help Jon. Help them all.”
One by one the remaining Admirals flickered out of existence, their troubled expressions lingering in the air for a few seconds longer, until only one remained.
Sofia looked up despairingly into Admiral Sterling’s sympathetic expression. “Please Frank. I have never asked anything of you before, but I beg you now. Help Jon.”
“You know I would—if I could,” Sterling added in a troubled tone. “But just my fleet won’t make any difference, and if we depart, then I leave the Eden System undefended. I promised Jon I would remain and defend this system. I’m sorry. I truly am.” With that even his figure disappeared, leaving Sofia kneeling in the darkened empty room, alone.
After a few minutes, she brushed the tears from her cheeks and stood defiantly. She swore that never again would she abandon Jon, and it was a promise that she meant to keep.
If the rest of the fleet would not help him, then she would just have to do it alone. She wouldn’t live the rest of her life without him.
She would help him, or die trying.
Chapter Nineteen
Terra Nova Station, Aquila System
“Patrick? Patrick!” the woman’s voice called out desperately, echoing down the packed corridor. For the evacuation was now in full swing, with the remaining crew of Terra Nova streaming towards the main hangar deck, and the last of the waiting shuttles.
Patrick looked around, trying desperately to locate the source of the cry, but it was impossible, for the corridor was jammed full of people. The next thing he knew a trembling body collided with his own, desperate arms encircling him to stop the person from being carried further down the corridor by the crowd. Looking down Patrick was stunned to find himself gazing into the terrified brown eyes of Jane Castle.
“Jane, what are you doing here? You and Elizabeth should’ve departed long ago.” For it had unanimously been decided that the children and families would all depart on the first few shuttles.
“I cannot find her,” Jane cried out in terror. “Elizabeth, Marcus and Harrison’s daughter, they were all out playing together when the alert sounded. I’ve looked everywhere, but I cannot find them!” she wailed hysterically.
“I’ll find them, you go. Now.” Patrick reassured her.
“But—”
“But nothing. I have a good idea where they might be hiding. I’ll find them and bring them with me, now go.” Patrick gave her a swift but firm kiss on the lips, before releasing her into the stream of people, watching for a few seconds longer as the crowd carried her towards the waiting shuttles. With one less person to worry about, Gunny turned around and started pushing his way through the press of people, going in the opposite direction.
*****
“Captain,” an officer on the bridge of the Revenge reported. “We’re tracking a number of shuttles that are departing the station. Based on their current projected heading and speed we estimate that they are attempting to flee the System, as they are heading for the nearest FTL jump-point.”
“Radec,” Malthus spat his name out like a curse. “He’s evacuating the station, right under our very noses. Stop him.” This order was directed squarely at Captain Miller.
“Operations,” Miller called out. “Have we managed to identify the command centre for that station yet?”
“Yes Captain, we have just finished analysing the sensor data of the station. Their C&C is located on the upper deck of their central habitat ring.”
At a questioning glance from the Senator, Miller hurriedly explained. “It’s quicker just to take-out the C&C than the entire station. It’s massive, we could spend the next few months shooting holes into it.”
“And it took you over forty-five minutes to realise that their command centre is on the top of the station?” Malthus demanded sarcastically. “Destroy it, quickly.”
At a nod from the Captain the officer hurriedly went about communicating with the rest of the fleet to focus their fire on that particular section of the station.
“In the meantime I am still waiting for you to tell me how you plan to stop those shuttles,” Malthus demanded furiously. “They’re not to be permitted to leave.”
“They’re not a tactical priority Senator, we should continue to focus our firepower on the remaining Confederation ships and station.�
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“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Malthus spat out. “I gave you an order. I understand that we’ve a considerable number of missiles. I assume that the shuttles are still within range of them?”
Miller nodded reluctantly.
“Then use them,” Malthus hissed.
For the second time in the space of an hour Miller hesitated, but this time Malthus did not wait for him. Wheeling around, he stalked across to the Tactical Officer’s console. “Target the shuttles with our missiles. Fire them all, immediately, or I will have you dismissed for insubordination and will find somebody else to do it. You had better decide fast.”
The Revenge quickly locked onto the defenceless fleeing shuttles and commenced firing with her own complement of missiles.
*****
“Missile launch, multiple contacts,” the Operations Officer called out frantically.
Everybody went still on the command deck, as already they had lost all of their escorts, leaving the few remaining Capital Ships extremely vulnerable to such weapons.
“What’s the target?” Jon asked hoarsely, for whichever ship was targeted was almost certainly doomed to a quick, fiery death.
“They’re not targeting the fleet. They’re locked onto the departing shuttles,” the Operations Officer reported.
Jon swore. After so many lives that had already been lost, it was all going to be for nothing, as the crew of Terra Nova were going to die anyway. With their escape so close at hand, it just didn’t seem fair.
“Lord Radec,” the Helm Officer interrupted suddenly. “Most of the missiles are going to pass by very closely to the Invincible, they’ll pass across our bow, a little over three kilometres distant from us.”