StarFight 1: Battlestar

by T. Jackson King

  “Linking,” called O’Hara.

  “CPO Jim Linkletter reporting,” came the voice of a young man over Jacob’s helmet comlink. “Acting captain, you have orders for me?”

  “I do. Prepare to target wasp ship W8. It’s wounded and not jinking. Advise me when it enters the impact zone of the cannon’s beam.”

  Seconds passed. A third volley of laser and lightning bolt fire passed between the wasp ships and the battle group. Ships in both groups were jinking sideways using attitude thrusts and sometimes main drive flares so as to avoid presenting a simple fixed target to enemy gunners. Ships in both groups reported new hits. The frigate Britain reported a punch through to its midbody cargohold. Three dead. The ship was still operational and firing back with its nose laser.

  “Target within reach!” called Linkletter.

  At last. “Fire antimatter cannon!”

  A black beam of magnetically confined negative antimatter shot out from the front of the Lepanto and impacted on the middle of the W8 wasp ship.

  A small sun replaced the matter and living bodies of the wasp ship.

  The expanding yellow-white globe of total matter-to-energy conversion grew and grew, then gradually began to fade as the absolute coldness of empty space drained the plasma ball of its coherence and energy. Eventually only a pale red shell of energetic particles marked the spot where an enemy ship had once lived.

  “Linkletter!” Jacob yelled. “Fire at any wasp ship that comes within the impact zone of the AM cannon! Slaughter, shift our nose aim toward whatever enemy ship is closest to where W8 used to be.”

  “Shifting!” the woman responded.

  “Ready to fire,” Linkletter replied.

  Jacob hoped the wasp ships and their leaders would be shocked into brief immobility by the total destruction of one of their ships. Moments were all he needed to gain a lock-on against another wasp ship. Would he have them?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shock filled Hunter’s inner gut. The intruding Soft Skins possessed a black beam unlike anything known to the Swarm. What the beam hit instantly became a globe of plasma. No fragments remained. All aboard the flying nest he knew by its name of Soft Nest were gone. Vanished.

  “Stinger Servant!” he alarm scent cast. “What kind of stinger is that?”

  “Unknown,” the young female scent cast in confused alarm pheromones. “The result resembles what happens in our propulsive devices that fly us through cold space. Or something hit by a flying seed. But particle disruption seeds leave fragments behind. This was not such a stinger.”

  “Hunter One,” scent cast the Servant who monitored the cold radiations from space. “The weapon’s impact resembles the few times we have seen distant sky lights explode and die. Perhaps the weapon captures whatever causes such sky death.”

  Hunter’s shell hairs stood out as a chill filled the three sections of his hard shell body. Did these Soft Skin intruders possess a weapon capable of killing a sky light? Breathing fast through his spiracles, Hunter realized that only one Soft Skin flying nest had fired the deadly black beam. Which must mean other intruding flying nests lacked this terrible stinger. And the weapon’s range was half or less than that of their sky bolt and sky light stingers. He scent cast a triple level of aggregation pheromones crossed with releaser pheromones.

  “Support Hunters! Move your mobile nests outward! Move beyond the stinging range of this new weapon.” What else must he scent cast? “Fighter Leaders, continue your attacks with our sky bolt and sky light stingers! Keep buzzing swiftly to avoid Soft Skin stingers! We have damaged four of their flying nests. A visit with the Matron goes to the stinger Servant who kills a Soft Skin flying nest!”

  Sex always motivated every Swarmer. That was something Hunter knew as deeply as he breathed. The millions of eggs birthed each year by the thousands of Matrons on Nest were the cause of their search for new nest homes about distant sky lights. Giving the male stinger Servants an extra motivation for defending their flying nest could not hurt and might help. A new pheromone scent of fertilization welcome came to Hunter from the Matron behind him. Good. She agreed with his offer. Now, how soon before a Soft Skin flying nest died?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Jacob watched as the wasp ship formation grew closer. The remaining five ships in the front wasp group were now within 3,987 kilometers of his ships. Less than a minute had passed since the antimatter beam firing. A fourth round of laser and sky bolt firings had occurred, with strikes on ships in both fleets. His eight allies were still whole and fighting. The Lepanto’s right and left front laser nodes now joined a group of four ships firing at target W3, one of the five remaining front line wasp ships. But the inner group of wasp ships were at 4,312 kilometers out, including the giant wasp ship at the center of their half globe formation.

  “Wasp ship W4 is now head-on to us,” Slaughter called from Navigation.

  “Ready to fire!” called Linkletter.

  “Fire antimatter cannon at W4!” yelled Jacob.

  A black beam speared out to the wasp ship that lay straight ahead but was jinking sideways, up and down in short, sharp movements.

  It didn’t matter. The meter-wide beam grew in width the further out it traveled.

  A second star bloomed yellow-white against the darkness of space.

  The plasma fireball’s glow cast light on the dark terminator line of the planet below them.

  “Yes!” yelled O’Connor from the seat to the right of Daisy. “Two enemy gone. That makes it ten enemy to our nine ships. Better and better.”

  Jacob agreed but stayed quiet. His father the admiral nearly always beat him at chess, ending up with the comment “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, young man.” The early results of this first engagement were encouraging. But surely this enemy possessed more weapons than the laser and lightning bolt beams. He just hoped the wasps did not possess antimatter cannons. If they did, his ships could die just as easily as the two wasp ships had died.

  A new star flare surprised him.

  “W3 is gone!” cried O’Hara from Tactical.

  How had this happened? His memory of images from the four holos in front gave him the answer. Their two groups of four ships had joined their twelve laser beams on a single wasp ship. The green lasers fired by Quincy’s laser node and the Lepanto’s left side node had joined in. Punch through had happened in three places, according to infrared emissions. One of the punch throughs must have hit the wasp ship’s fusion reactor. Or something equally volatile. A yellow-orange fireball now consumed the wasp ship, the fireball spreading from the middle out to the nose and tail of the wasp ship. In seconds only small fragments were left, flying off in all directions.

  “Outstanding!” Jacob said, knowing he had to join his Bridge crew’s happy celebrating. “Watch out for—”

  “Enemy ships are flying outward!” cried Slaughter at Navigation.

  “They are!” called Daisy from her XO seat. “Their sterns are firing fusion pulse blasts. The remaining eight ships are speeding up. Moving away at 2,000 klicks per minute and increasing rapidly. Acting Captain, do you think they are fleeing?”

  Jacob gulped. Amidst the good news of enemy retreat even as both groups exchanged a fifth round of laser and bolt beams, the ninth ship stayed on its heading aimed directly at the Lepanto. The mother ship. Or lead ship. Or whatever the aliens called it. That ship, which was twice as large as the other wasp ships, stayed on a course aimed at the Lepanto. Well, in moments it would arrive within the AM beam’s 4,000 kilometer range. Then would come—

  “Incoming enemy fire!” O’Hara called from Tactical. “All their ships are firing just on us! Uh, the fire is concentrated on the front top of the Lepanto. They—”

  “They’re aiming for the antimatter emitter node!” yelled O’Connor.

  Jacob saw that. There was only one answer to preserve the ship’s most powerful weapon.

  “Slaughter! Fire our nose jets! Move us up so our belly armor plates take the in
coming fire!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Support Hunter Seven could hardly believe the perception images that filled his five eyes. Three Swarmer flying nests had just died. Two disappeared in stupendous blasts of plasma that left nothing but glowing rings of ultraviolet and orange light, while the third had died from the impact of Soft Skin lasers that cut through to the nest’s central energy unit. That was where particles were joined just as they were combined to produce propulsive power. But the black beam that had killed two Swarmer nests was something he’d never seen. Was this the moment to challenge Hunter One?

  “Hunter Seven!” cried the Servant who studied distant sky lights and radiations from the cold darkness of space. “That black beam kills the way some distant sky lights die!”

  New pheromones filled the Flight Chamber as signals arrived from Hunter One’s flying nest. They spoke of aggregation and release and a new direction for all Swarmer nests to fly.

  “Propulsive Servant, move our nest upward and away from the largest Soft Skin flying nest,” he ordered in a mix of release and trail pheromones. “Join our other nests in flying beyond the reach of this new stinger. Stinger Servant, focus your sky light and sky bolt weapons on the front end of the large Soft Skin nest. Destroy the spot that emits this new beam!”

  Eager pheromones of aggregation and compliance came to him from the seven Servants in front of him. Like most Swarmer castes, they responded well when given direction by a Hunter or senior caste leader.

  He would put off challenging Hunter One. This moment of immense danger put his own flying nest at risk. Already the hard shell of his nest had been struck three times by sky light beams from the Soft Skin nests. Only the thickness and density of the minerals used to build Swarmer flying nest shell skins had prevented the beams from hurting those inside. Waiting was hard for any Hunter. But it was the flight path of wisdom and survival for now. He chose to fly that path, hoping for a later chance to show the superiority of his leadership.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunter felt surprise at the death of two more Swarmer flying nests, then intense anger. He had begun this attack certain of their victory over the Soft Skins. But now, somehow, the Soft Skins had found enough Fighter Leaders to fight back, even to advance on the Swarm! Such could not be permitted. His three small eyes fixed on a perception imager that gave distances between the flying nests. His remaining eight nests were approaching the sky line at which they would be safe from the black beam of total annihilation. And his nest would soon come within its range. Which, he was pleased to see, was motivating his Stinger Servant to order the sky light and sky bolt Fighters in other chambers of his nest to focus their beams on the front end of the largest Soft Skin nest. The beam had come from a spot on the upper head of the enemy. A spot that would lie just above the three small eyes that lay between the two major eyes of every Swarmer. The Stinger Servants on his other flying nests saw what his Fighters were doing and now joined in. In less than four wing beats every Swarmer flying nest was firing at the same spot on the Soft Skin flying nest, even as eight of them fled outward.

  “Alarm!” scent cast the elderly female Servant who monitored external space and the actions of the Soft Skin flying nests. “The largest Soft Skin flying nest is lifting its head! It presents the hard shell of its abdomen to the flames of our sky lights and sky bolts!”

  “Stinger Servant,” Hunter scent cast to the young female in charge of sending orders to the Fighter Leaders and Fighters in other chambers of his nest. “Concentrate our sky light and sky bolt weapons on the next largest Soft Skin nest!” What else must he scent? “Speaker To All, signal to our Support Hunters that each nest must fire at the same Soft Skin nest. That was how the Soft Skins killed the nest Bright Day. Let us do the same and claim a Soft Skin nest!”

  Those two Servants did as he ordered. A pheromone of approval came from the Matron behind him. The older male Servant who handled the propulsive devices that moved his flying nest also sent aggregation and trail pheromones as a sign all Servants should follow the leadership of Hunter One.

  The elder’s helpful scent reminded him of his nest’s final attack option. The device was rarely used due to the danger it posed to other Swarmer nests that came too close. But his support nests were now beyond the range of the device. Which left his ship as the single Swarmer nest to confront the terrible Soft Skin nest with the black beam. Other Soft Skin nests fired sky light beams at his nest and at his supporting nests, but the hard shell skins of his allies withstood those beams. It was time.

  “Servant of the Pull Down device, let your device take wing against the largest Soft Skin nest,” he scent cast in a mix of signal, primer and territorial pheromones, reminding the Servant of his duty to protect the home nest.

  “The device takes wing,” the elder male scent cast in response. “Recall it will take nine hundred wing beats before it fully replaces our hard shell segments.”

  Hunter felt inner satisfaction. “We have the time. The largest Soft Skin nest is coming within the device’s range. And it cannot fire its black beam at us due to its changed flight angle.”

  His five eyes watched as the dark cold space between his flying nest and the terrible Soft Skin nest grew smaller. It was fitting that his nest would deliver the final sting to this enemy. Once it was dead, he would lead the other Support Hunter nests against the remaining Soft Skins. Which reminded him of a needed order.

  “Speaker To All, tell our fellow flying nests to swing around to the rear of the Soft Skin flying nests. Tell them to continue their sky light and sky bolt attacks as they move behind the Soft Skins,” he scent cast in a strong dose of releaser and signal pheromones.

  There. That would further shield his fellow Swarmers from the effects of the Pull Down device, while allowing them to do what came naturally to every Swarmer. Attack the opponent who endangers your nest. Satisfaction briefly filled him. How would the Soft Skins feel when they realized they were held in the grip of the Pull Down device?

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Captain,” called O’Connor from his seat below Jacob. “The wasps are moving to mount a pincer attack on us.”

  Jacob saw that in the true space holo that showed the dispersed wasp ships, now well beyond the range of his antimatter cannon and curving around to the rear of his ring plate formation. Worse, the wasp ships were concentrating their laser and lightning bolt beams on the hull of the Chesapeake, which still maintained her position a thousand kilometers above the Lepanto.

  “Acting captain,” called O’Hara from Tactical. “The giant wasp ship is still oncoming. It is firing its lasers and lightning bolt beams at our belly. Our belly proton laser is firing back. It . . . it seems to be damaging the front end of the wasp ship.”

  “Confirmed,” said Daisy from her XO seat. “Infrared and ultraviolet sensors report enemy hull is melting at proton laser impact point. How thick is that damned hull!”

  Jacob had wondered that about the wasp ships. Single or even triple laser hits on a single spot had not penetrated. Punch through only came when six or more lasers hit the same spot on an enemy hull. Which his ships were now doing as they focused on ship W2. But the change in enemy formation required a change in the battle group’s formation.

  “Osashi, establish a neutrino comlink to the battle group,” he said over his helmet comlink.

  “Encrypted signal link established,” the older Asian said quickly.

  “All ships, move to Alpha Anvil formation behind us. Prepare to repel oncoming enemy,” Jacob said.

  “Good choice,” O’Connor muttered.

  Jacob scanned the sensor holo to his far left that showed the heat shapes of the wasp ships. Now scattered into a rough circle larger than his attack circle, the wasps were using their fusion pulse thrusters to come to the rear of Jacob’s ship group. Which was why he had ordered the new formation. The two cruisers would move backward and become the point of the anvil, with the destroyers being the next layer and the four frigates being the
final base of the anvil. That put the frigates closest to the Lepanto. Which he had earlier ordered to stop forward thrusting when it became clear the enemy was accelerating toward them. Perhaps it was time to give the anvil ships some room.

  “All ships, reverse thrust. Move out and away from the Lepanto. Combine your weapons firing to take down individual ships,” he said, feeling thankful again for his study of ancient sea battles and the academy’s history of space battles. History and anthropology were two subjects he had loved ever since entering high school. His father the admiral had dismissed them, saying what mattered was gaining his Star Navy commission and becoming a senior officer. He’d done as ordered. But he had not enjoyed his time at the academy. Strange that the lessons he had studied so reluctantly were now vital to their survival.

  “Acting captain!” called Swanson from the Chesapeake, her image appearing to one side of the front wallscreen. Her black curls looked sweat-laden despite the cool air of her helmet. The woman gave no sign of the pressure she must feel as the thick hull of her cruiser absorbed more than a dozen laser and lightning bolt strikes. “Our flank proton lasers are hitting the wasp ships as they pass by us. Should we launch missiles and Smart Rocks?”

  “Yes!” Jacob said quickly, wishing he had thought to order it earlier as the wasp ships came close enough to be reached by the solid fuel powered missiles. “Launch your missiles tipped with x-ray laser thermonukes first. Maybe the x-rays can penetrate those damn hulls better than our lasers!”

  “Launching missiles,” Swanson said as she looked to one side and gave a thumbs-up gesture to a Bridge crewperson who was not in her image. The middle-aged woman looked back, her dark brown eyes fixing on him. “Acting captain, I don’t like how that giant wasp ship is advancing on you. Its hull is holding up, even against your proton laser. It’s planning something. Maybe a boarding attempt.”