Sacrifice:The Shenkar War

by Libby, Seth

  “Launch all fighters. Have them fan out in front of us. We will find the vermin that infests this system. The glory and honor of this will not go to the Third Fleet but to us!”

  Wave after wave of fighters launched from the ship. Fifteen minutes later, seven hundred Shenkar fighters spread out in a protective shield. The fighters would precede the Krazzeen, searching out any areas the enemy may have hidden.

  “Fighters in place, sir,” said a voice from the operations station.

  “All ahead full; maintain the standard distance.”

  Slowly, the Krazzeen moved into the star system behind its screen of fighters. Scanners were set for optimal search patterns. Shizta watched the view screen, searching for any clue to the whereabouts of these “humans.”

  September 29, 2012, 9:45 p.m.Necro Squadron Patrol

  Liam’s fighter cruised along the outer edge of the atmosphere of the gas giant that lay on the outermost boundary of the system. “Nothing, nothing, and yet more nothing,” he muttered to himself.

  Over the past week there had been a drop in the Shenkar forces entering the system. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was sure the Shenkar knew about their presence. He thoroughly believed a fighter had survived and was able to report back to the advancing Dread Fleet. However, the question was, what was next and when would they come? Keying his comm unit, he looked over toward Evan’s fighter cruising along.

  “Zombie, you getting anything?”

  “Nope, I got nothing. Weird, isn’t it? One minute we have a regular flow of Shenkar forces, and the next we have nothing. You don’t suppose they have changed the system they are assembling in?”

  “It’s possible. Ever since Frenchy’s mistake, they now know we are somewhere around here. Only thing is, from what the Meshtrell said of the Shenkar, it wouldn’t make sense. They have never suffered defeat, and this would be a defeat for them if they moved on without first eliminating us--not to mention that it would be strategically stupid. You don’t leave an enemy behind you when you are headed toward another enemy.

  “No, I think they are holding forces up somewhere in a buildup until they can bring in enough to defend themselves against an attack from us without getting slaughtered. The problem is, they don’t know how big a force we have, so we don’t know how many ships they will collect before entering the system to find us. I am hoping their arrogance is as big as the Meshtrell claim it is. It would mean they wouldn’t wait long before coming after us, and hopefully, it will be with a force we can handle. We still need to hold them off for a few more months. I just wish--”

  An alarm on his flight board sounded, cutting off Liam in midsentence. Looking to his readout, he saw a report of something entering the system. Checking his long-range scanners, he saw that something was, in fact, entering the system--something very big.

  Evan’s voice sounded over his comm unit.

  “Are you picking up what I’m picking up?”

  “Yes . . . what is that? The Meshtrell said they wouldn’t be bringing in their battlecruisers until it was closer to the end,” said Liam.

  “That’s no battlecruiser; it’s much too large,” said the voice of Liam’s wingmate, Tim Wellmo, or Vampire.

  “Necro Squadron, we need to hide; everyone, follow me.” Liam edged his fighter down into the dense upper atmosphere of the gas giant below him. After some distance, when he was sure they were well hidden, he called the squadron to a halt and then hailed the Sacrifice.

  “Sacrifice, this is Ghost. We have just picked up something entering the system--something very big. Please advise.”

  “Ghost, this is Sacrifice. We have just picked up the same signature. Please hold position while we analyze,” came the voice of Lieutenant Sukita.

  Seconds turned to minutes before a response to his query came back. “Ghost, we have no known signatures on file. Our Meshtrell need a visual, can you comply?” asked the voice of Captain Caqel.

  “That’s an affirmative; hold for visual.”

  Liam engaged his thrusters and brought his fighter up to the outer edges of the dense planet’s atmosphere. Keying long-range scanners, he brought the massive ship into view onto a small view screen in front of him, then relayed the image to the Sacrifice.

  As he waited for a response, he studied the massive ship. The ship was roughly a mile in length, much like a battlecruiser. The one main difference was the launching bay; it emerged from just underneath the bow of the ship. Upon a closer look at the stern, it also seemed to have a hangar bay just below a massive set of engines. Watching, he saw ships occasionally launching out of the bow and ships landing in the stern--but never landing in the bow or launching from the stern. He concluded that the hangar bay must run the entire length of the ship, providing a constant flow of ships entering and exiting.

  His computer brought up the technical information it had accumulated, and he was staggered to see the strength of the energy shields. The only weak points in the shields he could see were where they covered the launch bay’s entrance on the stern. Too bad--he would have to go through the screen of fighters that preceded the massive ship, fly past its many energy cannons, and swing around before he could think of doing any damage. Maybe if they had all their fighters and four battlecruisers, they could take this thing head-on, but not with what they currently had.

  An odd energy pulse caught Liam’s attention on the analysis. Looking more closely, Liam found it to be just forward of midship. Its pulse matched that of the shields. So that must be where the shield generators were housed, he mused. Armor was layered repeatedly around this area of the hull.

  “Ghost, this is Admiral Kelvin. What you see there is what the Meshtrell say is the Krazzeen: the flagship of the whole Shenkar Federation. It is known as a dreadnought. They failed to mention this ship because they felt we would never see it. The ship is usually never used far from the Shenkar home world . . . wherever that is,” the Admiral said, not bothering to hide his frustration and anger with the information the Meshtrell sometimes failed to mention because they deemed it unnecessary.

  “So what are our options, sir?” Liam asked.

  “We fight, and most likely, we die. One battlecruiser just isn’t enough to stand against those fighters and the shields of that monstrosity.”

  “Sir, I have an idea . . . it’s a long shot, but any chance at this point is worth taking,” said Liam.

  “What is your plan?”

  Liam detailed out his plan and what they needed to do. Silence was the only response he received. Then he heard Reeta’s muffled voice speak over the open frequency: “That might just work, you know.”

  “Very well, we will go with your plan, Lieutenant Commander. Get your squadron positioned, and we will do the rest.”

  The comm unit closed, and once again, Liam was in silence. He edged his fighter back down into the planet’s atmosphere to rejoin his squadron.

  September 29, 2012, 10:00 p.m. ESTEDF Sacrifice, Command Bridge

  “All pilots to your fighters. I repeat, all pilots to your fighters. Enemy inbound, ETA twenty minutes,” said Lieutenant Sukita over the ship’s internal comm system.

  “Once all fighters have launched and are in position, we will exit from the asteroid field . . . that should pull that screen of fighters away from the Krazzeen. Have the four Chimera squadrons hang back until we engage the fighters, then have them loop out and around, bypass the fighters, and engage the Krazzeen with every antimatter torpedo they can launch at it,” ordered the Admiral.

  Captain Caqel stepped up beside the Admiral and spoke in a low voice so not to be overheard. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I must remind you, as your second-in-command, that our orders were not to engage the enemy directly if it could result in the destruction of the Sacrifice.”

  “I am aware of the orders, Captain, but look at it this way. If we were to just leave our fighters here and take the Sacrifice home, do you agree the pilots would all die?”

  Captain Caqel nodded an affirm
ative.

  “Well, then, if they are all dead, then the Shenkar could assemble their fleet and assault Earth before the defenses are completed. So do you really think one battlecruiser would make the difference?”

  “No, sir, I don’t doubt you haven’t thought this out completely. I just had to do my job and remind you of our orders.”

  “And I would expect nothing less of you,” Admiral Kelvin said with a smile.

  “Sir, what of the engineering crews on the asteroid? We won’t have time to recover them,” asked Caqel

  “Yes, I know. They will have to stay where they are. The base is nearly complete, and they have plenty of supplies in the event we lose this fight. With their equipment, in time they will be able to build a ship capable of taking them home . . . providing they have a home to go to.”

  Turning to look at Captain Caqel full in the face, he spoke again. “I want you to take a shuttle to the base and take command.”

  “But, sir--”

  “No, I need someone there to take command and bring the survivors home. If all this goes wrong and the Shenkar fleet is able to hit Earth before we are ready, then that pocket of men and women will be all that is left of free humans and they will need a competent leader.”

  Captain Caqel looked as if he wanted to argue more but then said in a resigned voice, “Yes, sir, I will do all I can to keep them alive and bring them home in the event things do go bad.”

  Captain Caqel saluted. Then, as soon as the Admiral returned the salute, he turned and left for a shuttle.

  Admiral Kelvin turned back to the bridge and waited. Several minutes later, he got the report he was waiting for.

  “Admiral, all fighters are in position and Captain Caqel’s shuttle has departed,” came the voice of Lieutenant Sukita.

  “Very well . . . all fighters forward, three-quarters speed. Match speed with the fighters and follow. Let’s take her out of this asteroid field . . . everyone to their battle stations,” commanded Admiral Kelvin.

  Slowly, the screen of F-77 Scorpion fighters broke the asteroid field, bringing them within sensor range of the Shenkar. Seconds later came the EDF Sacrifice.

  September 29, 2012, 10:15 p.m. ESTDreadnought Krazzeen, Bridge Control

  “Commander Shizta, contact!”

  Shizta wheeled about and strode to the scanner.“What are the configuration and numbers?”

  “Light fighter-class, judging by their armaments. Numbers estimated at just over three hundred. A capital ship follows closely behind, configuration is . . . battlecruiser.” The last word was spoken softly.

  “Battlecruiser? Let me see it,” demanded Shizta.

  The sensor officer pressed a few buttons, and an image of a battlecruiser appeared close up on the small screen.

  “That is Meshtrell design . . . they were destroyed decades ago. How is it that one of their battlecruisers came to be here? Let me see the fighters close up.”

  Once again, the sensor officer pressed a few buttons, and a close-up of several fighter craft appeared on the screen.

  “That, however, is nothing I have ever seen. I studied the Meshtrell technology, and this isn’t anything they had when we destroyed their race. Very well, let them try and run, for we will hunt them down and kill them.”

  “Sir, enemy fighters are assuming an attack vector . . . it appears they plan to attack.”

  Taken aback at hearing this, Shizta stood there, mouth half open for several seconds before he found his voice once again.

  “They are attacking?!?” he said, surprised. Then, in a more commanding voice, he continued, “No matter, let them come. They will suffer the same fate as any who have tried to stand against us in the past. Divert energy from the rear shields to the forward shields. I do not want anything getting through.” Raising his hand and closing a fist in a crushing motion, he said, “Launch all fighters and have them spread out in front.”

  After several minutes, the operations officer signaled that all fighters had been deployed and were in position.

  “All ahead full; all fighters break and attack!”

  Seven hundred Shenkar fighters surged forward toward the unknown fighters and away from the Krazzeen.

  September 29, 2012, 10:33 p.m. ESTNecro Squadron, Hidden in the Gas Giant Designation N-6

  Liam studied the dense gas above him through the canopy of his fighter. Looking hard through the gas, he tried to spot the enemy above but couldn’t find anything. Slowly, he eased his fighter upward until the gas cleared enough to see through. He was met with an awesome sight: the massive hull of the Krazzeen slowly passing over the planet. Quickly, Liam eased his fighter back down into the gas.

  “Necro Squadron, the Krazzeen is now passing overhead. Ready yourselves.”

  Liam waited, counting slowly to two hundred. Once he finished, he spoke again. “Okay, everyone, let’s move out.”

  Liam slammed his throttle forward, his fighter exploding upward. By the time he broke the surface of the planet’s gases, his fighter was at maximum speed, with all of Necro Squadron close behind. Together, they streaked toward the Krazzeen. No fire from the Krazzeen’s aft cannons came. Perhaps we can pull this off, thought Liam. Slowly, they closed, Liam’s heart racing as he watched the distance indicator count down.

  “Necro Squadron . . . standby,” Liam said.

  He watched the distance indicator meter by meter until finally the number he had been waiting for lit up.

  “FIRE!” was all Liam said.

  Nine antimatter torpedoes streaked away toward the Krazzeen. Liam engaged his afterburners, slamming himself back into his seat as his fighter streaked in pursuit of the torpedoes and away from the rest of Necro Squadron. Evan’s voice came over Liam’s comm unit.

  “Ghost . . . Liam, do you really think this will work?”

  “Tim said there is a good chance it will, and that’s good enough for me. But if not, you are in charge. Get them away and continue the fight for me.”

  Liam watched as the rest of Necro Squadron peeled off, setting a vector that would take them into the battle that was commencing far ahead.

  September 29, 2012, 10:38 p.m. ESTDreadnought Krazzeen, Bridge Control

  Shizta watched the view screen ahead of him. So far, the battle wasn’t going as well as he originally had foreseen. These humans, whoever they were, were inflicting severe damage against the Krazzeen’s fighters. Even with them having the two-to-one odds advantage, the enemy had suffered only minimal losses so far. Shizta, however, wasn’t worried; soon the Krazzeen would bring its energy cannons within range, and they would unleash death upon these humans. Suddenly, alarms blared throughout the bridge, an indicator of incoming fire. Spinning around, he looked to the officer manning the sensor station.

  “Sir, we have enemy contacts.”

  “I know this. We all know this, seeing as our fighter pilots are currently engaged with them,” Shizta said in a condescending voice.

  “Sir, the contacts are behind us: ten incoming fighters.”

  “Ten? What can ten do against the mighty Krazzeen?”

  “Sir, incoming torpedoes . . . sir, they are antimatter torpedoes.”

  Shizta stepped toward the sensor station and looked at the screen. Nine torpedoes streaked toward the Krazzeen while nine fighters streaked away from the Krazzeen toward the battle ahead. Once he examined the data, he smiled to himself.

  “Those torpedoes aren’t even aimed for a vital area . . . these humans obviously aren’t too bright to launch all those torpedoes at our landing bay. I doubt those torpedoes are even enough to bring down our shields. Regardless, even if they manage to damage our landing bay, we can just recover our pilots through the launch bay. Still, we can’t have them getting away with this . . . fire all energy cannons at those retreating fighters.”

  Cannons opened up all over the port side of the Krazzeen as they attempted to destroy the Necro Squadron. Still, something nagged at Shizta, as if he was missing something. Then he realized it--nine fighters
streaked away, but there had been ten contacts. Looking at the scanner, he searched for the tenth fighter, and after a few seconds, he found it. A lone fighter followed the incoming torpedoes. But why? was all Shizta could think. Then it dawned on him, or rather he had an idea: suicide attack. Checking the armament on the lone fighter, he saw that it still retained its antimatter torpedo.

  “All aft cannons, open fire! Take that fighter out!” yelled Shizta to fire control.

  September 29, 2012, 10:42 p.m. ESTAft of the Krazzeen

  The aft of the Krazzeen lit up as energy cannons opened fire. Liam maneuvered his fighter in attempts to avoid the incoming fire as he pulled energy away from his rear and strengthened his forward shields. The stars lit up as one of the Krazzeen’s shots hit one of the incoming torpedoes, causing it to explode. Liam hoped that wouldn’t happen again as they couldn’t afford to lose too many. Then the first torpedo hit the dreadnought in a brilliant explosion, followed by another. Soon, torpedo after torpedo impacted upon the Krazzeen’s shields in exactly the same spot. Liam held his breath as he flew at the Krazzeen and stole quick glances at his sensors. The final torpedo hit, and the already-weakened shields failed.

  Liam’s fighter exploded through the opening in the shields and into the landing bay of the Krazzeen. Killing his afterburners and engaging his reverse thrusters, Liam’s fighter shook as it slowed dramatically. Coming to a halt, Liam’s fighter hovered inside the Krazzeen. Looking around, he saw far off in the distance the forward launching bay. It seemed the landing bay and launch bay were directly connected after all.

  Liam looked down to see blue-scaled humanoids rushing forward toward his hovering fighter, brandishing energy rifles. Soon small-arms fire was impacting off Liam’s fighter to no avail. Squeezing the trigger on his flight stick, he fired. Explosions erupted all over as he maneuvered his fighter about. Shenkar warriors lay dead everywhere, either from direct fire from Liam’s cannons or as the result of an explosion. Liam edged his fighter forward, continuously pouring fire into anything he aimed at with death following.