First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun

by William J. Benning

  “That’s to be expected with all this radiation flying about; do what you can to regain contact!” Lokkrien responded loudly as he braced his legs against the War Table, “Flight Surgeon, is Spearhead One still all right!?”

  “Sir, stress levels above normal, blood pressure elevated, pulse and respiratory rate rising rapidly!” the prompt medical reply cut through the shuddering impacts.

  Well, at least he’s still alive, and fighting, Lokkrien thought and steeled himself for the continuing ordeal.

  Aboard the Black Rose, Billy Caudwell was feeling far from comfortable as the vessel was buffeted and slammed from almost all angles by the super-heated plasma waves. Billy felt that his teeth were being rattled from his jaws, and that his bones were being ground into powder through the intense pounding that the Black Rose was taking. Still, despite the brutal turbulence, Billy held firm. His attention fixed on the three Display Screens before him Billy worked the numbers and diverted power to where the force-shielding needed to be strongest. On the Central Screen, the triangular sectors lit up in rapid succession like flickering lights on a Christmas tree as the power usage bar charts danced and flickered.

  But, most dangerous of all was the heat. Despite the reinforced force-shielding the temperature in the Command Cabin of the Black Rose was rising rapidly. With the force-shielding of the Personal Environment Suit set to maximum, Billy was, as yet, unaware that the temperature was climbing to dangerously high levels. The hull of the Black Rose quickly began to glow dull red as the heat built up. Meanwhile, inside the Control Cabin, Billy kept a watchful eye on the dancing bars and figures of his Display Screens as the assault from the super-heated plasma seemed to intensify. On the Display Screen, the strands of plasma seemed to thicken and become denser and more numerous as sheet after sheet of searing hot death bombarded the tiny shuttle. Judging the intensity of the bombardment by the dark areas on his Display Screen, Billy was able to anticipate where to divert the power to the deflecting force-shielding. With wave after ferocious wave of plasma hurtling towards the frail and fragile looking shuttle, Billy’s mind and reflexes were only just able to keep that split-second ahead of the next scorching onslaught.

  The Thought-Command mechanism built into his Personal Environment Suit provided him with those additional fractions of a second that would otherwise have been lost sending the impulses from his brain to his hands and fingers. And, it was those split-second decisions that were the difference between life and an agonising, fiery death for the young pilot of the Black Rose. But, despite the technological advantages, Billy was still finding things more than a little bit uncomfortable.

  Aboard the Star-Destroyers, things were equally uncomfortable for the crews as the Engineers anxiously watched the power consumption being diverted to the force-shielding. The initial drainage on the proto-star reactors had been well within acceptable tolerances. However, now that the force-shielding was being challenged the power consumption had rocketed.

  So far there had been none of the dangerous power spikes that wore at the fabric and infrastructure of the reactors. But, the Engineers knew that even greater demands would be placed on the reactors and that the chance of power spikes grew with every passing second.

  Aboard the Aquarius, Lokkrien was also far from comfortable. Watching the two-dimensional display Screens that were projected up from the floor of the War Room, Lokkrien could see the same displays that Billy was monitoring. Power consumption was acceptable and the force-shielding seemed to be holding up well under the intense onslaught. Lokkrien was, however, worried about the human component in the mechanism.

  “Hull temperature on Spearhead One just reached one hundred thousand degrees Kelvin!” one of the Scanner Technicians announced to the violently shaking War Room.

  That’s nearly one million degrees Celsius, Lokkrien calculated quickly as another savage concussion hit the Aquarius.

  “What’s the temperature ceiling on Spearhead One?” Lokkrien asked anxiously.

  “Unknown, sir!” an Engineer replied honestly, “we’ve never tested Spearhead One’s hull to destruction!”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Lokkrien muttered.

  Sitting down on one of the chairs that were attached to the War Table on a curved support, Lokkrien finally gave up his dignity in favour of comfort and a degree of stability. This allowed the others at the side of the Table to also sit down. No one sat whilst the Commanding Officer stood.

  “Sir,” another voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “Report!” Lokkrien interrogated the new voice.

  “Sir, we’re through thirty percent of the plasma streams!” the voice of a Scanner Technician reported the first piece of encouraging news.

  Mentally, Lokkrien gave a small sigh of relief; that was one third of the material successfully pushed aside. The main crises would come at around forty to sixty percent and at the very end when the biggest bursts of plasma were ejected from the Sun. But, so far, so good, Lokkrien thought.

  “Excellent!” Lokkrien replied, “Keep calling out those numbers!”

  “Sir, Colossus, Zeus and Hercules all report huge increases in power demand,” an Engineer called out.

  Looking over at the bar charts on his display screens, Lokkrien could see that three of the five oscillating images were now up in the red zone for power consumption. When the images jumped into the white zone at the top of the chart there was a danger of catastrophic explosion.

  “That’s what we’re here to do, son!” Lokkrien replied in as commanding a voice as he could muster amongst the rattling and shuddering of the War Room, quietly cursing the panicky Engineers on the Star-Destroyers who he felt were being too cautious.

  Meanwhile, aboard the Star-Destroyers, the Engineers watched anxiously as the power was drained from the reactors into the force-shielding. The tons of proto-star matter, harvested from the star nurseries just before they went nova, could chain-react for tens of thousands of years before starting to deplete. Generating power was not a problem, but harnessing and controlling this wild untamed beast was a major headache. So far, the force-shielding and safety protocols around the proto-star matter were holding up. But, with the increasing demands from Billy aboard the Black Rose those force shields would be tested to their limits.

  The Engineers were far from confident that the force shields could hold out for very long. If the force-shielding did fail, the Star-Destroyers would be vapourised, the proto-star matter would be liberated and there would be five new brilliantly shining stars burning close to what remained of planet Earth.

  “Hull temperature on Spearhead One is now one hundred and fifty thousand degrees Kelvin, sir!” the Scanner Technician reported.

  Aboard the Black Rose, Billy was starting to have trouble seeing the screens in front of him. The vibration from the pounding that the vessel’s hull was receiving made it difficult for him to keep an accurate focus on the monitors that seemed to dance around and blur in his eyes. With Billy concentrating on the screens in front of him, the microscopic machines of the PES began to adjust the force-shielding around his face to compensate for the instability.

  “Sector two…sector four…sector one…sector two…sector three…sector two…sector five!” Billy’s mind issued instructions to the parts of the force-shielding that deflected the huge splashes of super-charged plasma away from the vessel. On his screen the triangles of each sector would light up white as the power surged through the linkages from the Star-Destroyers to strengthen the shielding where the intensity of the plasma was greatest.

  For an instant, he noted that power consumption from Star-Destroyer Titan was getting dangerously high, the block rising and flickering into the red zone for a few brief moments. However, Billy knew that he had to keep focussed on the streams of plasma that were battering the hull of the Black Rose or everything would be lost.

  “Passing through forty percent, sir!” the Scanner Technician indicated to the War Room.

  “Flight surgeon!?” Lokkrien cal
led for an update.

  “Under very heavy stress, sir, but holding steady!!” the commanding voice replied.

  “Nearly half way,” Lokkrien mumbled to himself, gritting his teeth.

  Back aboard the Black Rose, Billy was starting to experience a new phenomenon.

  With the volume of material from the Sun steadily increasing as the Black Rose pushed it aside, a new danger was emerging. The plasma that had been pushed aside was being pushed back towards the Black Rose by the volume of the material behind it. Like a snow plough pushing through a heavy drift, the pressure from the material bouncing off the shielding was pushing a great deal of plasma back at the Black Rose. Strands of super-charged plasma were starting to filter through the shielding further down.

  It took Billy several seconds to realise what was happening and that he had to step up his game further to monitor and deflect super-charged plasma from the whole shield. Expanding his view of the shielding on his centre screen, Billy knew that he had no alternative other than to increase the demands on the power generators aboard the Star-Destroyers. As a result, he had to focus his mind even more intently on the screen in front of him as he watched for the splash-back from the streams of super-charged plasma that he had already deflected away.

  “Two…one…three…four…one…one…three!” the rate of instruction rapidly increased from Billy’s mind to deal with the increasing splash-back.

  The five triangles on his centre screen flickered even more rapidly as the power consumption bars of all five Star-Destroyers danced ever closer to the red zone.

  “Going through fifty percent, sir,” the Scanner Technician announced as the whole umbrella passed through a huge bulge in the matter stream that signalled the height of the solar eruption.

  “Half way,” Lokkrien mumbled to himself, “all downhill from here,” he prayed.

  “Power usage reaching danger levels, sir,” an Engineering Technician called out amidst the shuddering and shaking.

  “We’re not there yet!” Lokkrien responded.

  For a split-second, Lokkrien considered listening to the Engineers and abandoning the umbrella. But, having come this far, he considered, it was now becoming a matter of pride to hang on in there. If Billy Caudwell, out there in the flimsy structure of the Black Rose could hold on, then so could Marrhus Lokkrien. He was not about to abandon his commander and friend just yet.

  “Flight surgeon!?” Lokkrien called for another medical update on the First Admiral.

  “Extreme stress, sir, heart rate and blood pressure dangerously elevated! He can’t hold out for very much longer sir!” the Flight Surgeon replied.

  “Oh, yes he can!” Lokkrien replied as another violent shudder rattled through the Aquarius.

  “Passing through sixty percent, sir!” the Scanner Technician announced as the bulge in the plasma stream started to tail off.

  “Just the tail to go,” Lokkrien prayed as the hammering of the Aquarius continued unabated.

  Out on the Black Rose, Billy began to notice that the intensity of the plasma stream was starting to reduce. The splash-back problem was starting to decrease. It looked like the major crisis had passed, but he knew that he could not let his concentration lapse for one single moment. Still jammed heavily into his seat by the intensity of the pounding, Billy tilted his head to the left, eyes still focussed on the screens, to achieve some relief for his aching neck muscles.

  “Two…...one…...three……one……four!” the command rate was starting to decrease and the power demands from the Star-Destroyers was beginning to drop down below the red zone.

  The buffeting and shaking of the Black Rose was still continuing, but Billy was starting to feel like the end was in sight. Still the great snaking, writhing stream of super-charged plasma just kept coming at him.

  “Come on, Billy! Come on!” he urged himself to focus on the work ahead.

  Starting to feel dizzy, he tried to shake his head and stared hard at the central screen.

  “One..............five..............two..............three” he illuminated the sectors on his central screen as the flood of plasma slammed into the force-shielding once again.

  “Through seventy…and seventy-five percent, sir!” the Scanner Technician updated anyone who was listening.

  “Nearly there! Come on, Billy!” Lokkrien hissed through clenched teeth as the pounding of the flagship continued.

  Aboard the Star-Destroyers, the concerned Engineers were starting to feel slightly happier as power demands seemed to be reducing back to below the dangerous levels of the major crisis. Their main worries now turned to the structural damage that the intense pounding would have caused to the enormous vessels.

  “Eighty…eighty-five...ninety percent, sir!” the Scanner Technician kept the updates coming.

  “Nearly there, nearly there, nearly there,” Lokkrien mumbled as he steeled himself for the final burst that was the dying convulsion of the solar eruption.

  Aboard the Black Rose, Billy could see the final great wall of plasma hurtling towards the point of the umbrella on his screen. Breathing heavily, he tried to focus, but found his vision blurring as the screen seemed to fade in and out. An instant later, he felt that the Control Cabin of the Black Rose was starting to spin.

  “No!” he yelled feebly as he gave one last desperate, supreme effort to focus on the screens.

  Then everything went black.

  “I’m sorry,” he heard a faint voice, his own voice, sighing in despair as he finally lost consciousness.

  Chapter 30

  The Praxos System

  Just as Billy Caudwell was about to enter the streams of super-charged plasma, Turthus Chulling was scrutinising the approaching Bardomil strike force as it made the final approach to the Praxos frontier. On the War Table image, the Alliance formation of twenty Star-Cruisers stood in a diamond shaped pattern with the two larger Fleet Carriers safely tucked behind.

  “The enemy have just crossed the frontier, sir!” a Scanner Officer announced as Chulling watched the first of the Flying Devils cross the faint white line that defined the boundary of Alliance space.

  “Comms, send them the standard challenge,” Chulling ordered knowing that the Bardomil would either ignore his message or reply with their usual degree of haughty arrogance.

  “Sir,” the Communications Officer responded and began the official challenge to the invasion of Alliance space.

  “WATO,” Chulling then called upon the Weapons and Tactical Officer who hovered close to the War Table.

  “Sir,” the WATO responded.

  “Get the pulsar-cannons in the turrets warmed up, but don’t fire until I give the command,” Chulling said absent-mindedly as he watched the images of the Bardomil vessels cross into Alliance territory.

  “Yes, sir,” the WATO replied and went to his duty.

  “Comms?” Chulling asked if any response had been received.

  “Nothing, sir, no response, sir,” the Comms Officer responded just as Chulling had expected.

  “Very well,” Chulling began.

  “The enemy are in scanner range, should we block them, sir?” a Scanner Technician asked.

  “No, let them have a good look at us,” Chulling ordered.

  Suddenly, on the War Table image, the Bardomil formation drew to a halt and held stations.

  Well, here we go, Chulling thought, they’ll arrange themselves into battle formation and then we can all begin.

  But, as Chulling watched the Bardomil formation, he saw something strange happening.

  As he had expected he saw the leading Flying Devils start to return to their Fighter Carriers, where they would refuel and join their comrades for the approaching battle. The Imperial Fighter Carriers, with their protective M-Cruiser screen, were moving forward to launch their Harpoon and Flying Devil complements. All well and good, Chulling thought. Except that all of the M-Cruisers were now detaching themselves from their defensive positions around the Imperial Fighter Carriers. This was s
omething new, Chulling considered, as he watched the M-Cruisers move forward to the front line of the Bardomil formation.

  “Comms? Are we listening in?” Chulling asked, trying to fathom some explanation for this new Bardomil tactic.

  “No, sir, enemy communications are being scrambled,” the Comms Officer said almost apologetically.

  “Try to crack them Comms,” Chulling ordered, still mystified as to what the enemy were planning to do with their M-Cruisers.

  “Yes, sir,” the Comms Officer responded, wondering if it were even possible to crack the Bardomil Fleet Codes.

  Still puzzled by the appearance of the M-Cruisers moving forward, Chulling racked his tactical brains as to what his Bardomil opposite number was trying to achieve. He couldn’t possibly be planning to attack with his M-Cruisers completely unsupported, Chulling speculated. If the high-yield pulsar-cannons aboard the Star-Cruisers didn’t get them, then the Eagle fighters would rip them to shreds. And, surely they weren’t going to stand toe-to-toe with the Alliance’s Star-Cruisers and try to slug it out with their laser weapons against the force-shielding and high-yield pulsar-cannons. That was just plain suicide. It just didn’t make any sense to Chulling.

  “Enemy launching fighters!” a Scanner Officer called out.

  Looking closely at the War Table image, Chulling saw the tiny specks of Harpoon and Flying Devil fighters emerging from the bays of the Imperial Fighter Carriers.

  “That’s more like it,” Chulling said to himself softly, “the more the merrier,” he smiled.

  An attack by the massed formation of M-Cruisers was going to require close support protection from smaller, faster and more agile fighter craft. They would, however, simply be more targets for the guns of the Eagles as they lay safely behind the force-shielding of the Star-Cruisers, Chulling considered.

  “Are the enemy within range?” Chulling asked speculatively.

  “Negative, sir,” the WATO replied almost nonchalantly.