“All ships, change ship status to Alert Combat Ready,” he said, looking up at the images of Joy, Joan and Rebecca that lined the top of the front wallscreen.
The ceiling above him went to red lights blinking. A rising siren sounded three times. That ship status change was being repeated all over the Battlestar. And on the other three ships of the fleet.
“Weapons, fire a volley of missiles. Move them ahead of us. Then fire four more volleys of missiles. Arrange those missile groups above us, below us and to either side,” Jacob said. “All ships, put out your own volleys of missiles. We must have multiple masses ready to intersect antimatter balls that will cross our vector track.”
“Firing seven missiles from our stern silos,” called Oliver. “Setting up additional volleys.”
“Firing four missiles,” said Rebecca from the Chesapeake.
“Shooting off two missiles,” called Joy from the Philippine Sea.
The lanky, long-limbed woman who led the Sea looked eager for the upcoming fight. Her blue eyes were bright. Her straw blond hair was pulled into a ponytail. Clearly she was back to her hard-charging, born to fight self. And her Welsh XO Aelwen Rydderch was tapping her own control pillar, clearly preparing the destroyer for the upcoming battle. Jacob liked what he saw of Joy’s bridge.
“We’ve launched a single missile,” called Joan from the Aldertag. The older woman frowned. “We’ll get off three more missiles. Our missiliers have reloads waiting next to our launch silo.”
“All ships, begin launching Smart Rock salvos ahead and to either side as permitted by your railgun launchers,” Jacob said.
Rebecca acknowledged his order. Her Chesapeake had only a single railgun on its nose, versus the top front, top rear and belly railguns of the Lepanto that were aimed sideways to cover the ship’s flanks. The destroyer and frigate had no railguns.
Oliver’s hands moved over his control touchscreen. “Multiple Smart Rock salvos fired from our topside front and back rails, and from our belly front and back rails. Rocks are clustering.”
Jacob watched as the situational holo grew busy with the tiny green dots of multiple volleys of missiles, now joined by twenty-rock clusters of Smart Rocks. The suggestion of Rebecca’s Tactical person to cluster the Smart Rocks in order to increase their striking mass made sense to him. However, even twenty self-guided Smart Rocks did not have the mass of a twenty-meter long missile. However, the rocks would move out at planetary escape velocity, far faster than the solid fuel thrust of the missiles. That would make the Smart Rocks into a globular haze that would be first to encounter incoming antimatter balls. The hunter-seeker software in the nav computers of each missile would automatically aim each missile at the closest black ball. Which would be moving at ten psol. Just like the missiles and Smart Rocks, which carried the inertial speed of the Lepanto and the other fleet ships.
“Enemy ships are sensor-locked,” said Rosemary from Tactical, her voice husky.
“All ships, cross-link your Tactical targeting with that of the Lepanto,” Jacob said, putting into effect the tactics he had discussed with each ship captain over the last four hours. The situational holo now glowed with a single red dot and two purple dots. They were a hundred thousand klicks out. The range counter in one corner of the situational holo rapidly decreased from 98,700 klicks to 66,000, thence to 31,000 kilometers as three seconds passed. All three ships sped toward his fleet. “All ships, fire your lasers and proton beams at the enemy ship that is closest to the ecliptic plane. Aim for its nose antimatter ejector port. We will take out the ship above that one. They’re firing AM balls!” he yelled. “Melody,” he called to the ever-listening AI. “Adjust our vector track as needed to avoid incoming antimatter balls!”
“Observing. Ready to adjust as needed,” the AI said, her musical tone a reminder of the Lepanto’s former captain.
The range counter hit 10,000 klicks.
“Firing outrigger lasers at the upper ship ejector port,” called Oliver, his fingers a blur on his touchscreen. “Captain, the antimatter cannon is loaded. Coming up on its range,” called Oliver from Weapons.
“Fire first shot!” Jacob called.
“Firing antimatter cannon!” Oliver yelled.
“Black balls are headed for our vector track,” called Rosemary. “Power, surge us ahead!”
“Thrusters increasing fusion flow!” called Maggie.
“Shifting our vector angle,” called Louise, sounding breathless.
On the situational holo Jacob saw the green streaks of CO2 lasers reach out from the front nodes of Lepanto’s right and left outriggers. Similar green streaks came from the noses of the Chesapeake and Aldertag. A red proton beam reached out from the nose of the Philippine Sea. Every fleet ship had tail lasers that would fire on the two enemy ships as the fleet flashed by the incoming enemy. And the Chesapeake and Lepanto had flank proton beam nodes that would rake the lowest enemy ship as their vectors converged.
Four orange beams shot out from the two manta ray ships as the range counter hit 7,000 klicks. Then it hit 4,000.
The black streak of the Lepanto’s antimatter beam passed a few klicks ahead of the upper enemy ship.
“Firing second AM beam!” cried Oliver.
“Lasers are impacting on the lower enemy ship!” yelled Rosemary from Tactical. “Ejector node of top ship is dead.”
“We’re hit by a graser beam!” called Joaquin from Life Support. “Front belly sensor array is gone.”
Two orange beams hit the front end of the Chesapeake. A single orange beam missed the Philippine Sea.
Too much happened nearly instantly.
A dozen green laser streaks touched the lower ship. A single red proton beam joined them. Three yellow lightning bolts shot out from Seven’s ship and hit the enemy. Black holes appeared where several beams hit one spot. The manta ray ship stayed intact, yellow-orange flame shooting from its long tail as its fusion pulse thrusters maneuvered it to better aim at the Earth fleet. Jacob cursed silently.
Seven green laser streaks hit the upper ship’s manta wings. Black spots appeared. That ship fired orange beams from the end of each wing. One beam hit the Philippine Sea. One hit the nose of the Lepanto.
The second AM beam touched the bulbous front of the upper manta ray ship, creating a miniature yellow-white sun as its thick beam of antimatter joined with the ship’s steel, aluminum, air, water, and alien flesh in a total conversion of matter to energy. The spot where the upper ship had been was now a blooming cloud of yellow-white plasma that resembled a small star. That star rushed toward them since it still possessed the one-tenth psol inertial momentum imparted by the dead ship’s thrusters.
“One bandit down!” he yelled.
“Incoming black balls!” called out Daisy.
“Shifting vector track,” said Louise.
“Look!” cried Rosemary. “Seven’s ship has stopped firing on the lower ship. It’s heading down toward it!”
♦ ♦ ♦
Seven’s five eyes took in all the imagery of the front perception imager, along with the pheromone scents of his fellow Swarmers in the Flight Chamber and throughout the other parts of his flying nest. Those Swarmers at their stinger controls, in the Nourishment Chamber, in the Practice Chamber and even far back in the Propulsive Device chamber, where rested the Matron, sent forth the scent of the Swarm englobing an enemy. It was a unique scent. Nearly as unique as his own Hunter scent. Time it was to give the final order.
“Flight Servant, change our flight angle to intersect the approaching attacker nest,” he scent-cast in a flow of primer pheromones which clearly told the Servant she must obey his command. “Servant for propulsive devices, use all the small gas devices to push our nest onto this new flight path. Servant for particle disruption seeds, release four seeds to the rear of our nest. But slowly so they are close to that part of our nest.”
“Changing flight angle,” scent-cast the Flight Servant.
“Pushing our nest down toward the
enemy nest,” reported the young female Servant for propulsive devices.
“Seeds have been expelled,” announced the older male Servant who controlled the radiation heavy seeds.
Seven felt relief. At last his flying nest would accomplish something real. At last it would fight as a Swarmer must fight. To protect the home nest and the larvae within. And to protect the territory of the home nest. He hoped the Matron would survive the next few wing beats. The device that buffered sudden motion changes should keep her intact when the impact moment came. As it would keep all Swarmers intact until their chamber walls vanished.
“Explode the seeds,” Seven scent-cast to the older Servant. “Our nest must fly into the enemy nest! It is the only way to yield a death blow to the killers of our larvae!”
“Seeds exploding!” came the response in a flow of aggregation, territorial, signal and necromone pheromones.
The perception imager showed his ship moving along its new flight path, thanks to the thrust provided by the exploding seeds. They might not be propulsive devices, but their explosions produced clouds of radiative gas that imparted movement to his nest. As he had planned.
The Servant for particle disruption seeds knew he faced death. As Seven knew it. As all within the Flight Chamber knew it. And as all Swarmers still alive within his flying nest now inhaled the necromone pheromone scent from the pheromone signalers that adorned every chamber of his nest.
“We are on a flight track to intersect the enemy nest!” scent-cast the older female who had served so well as his Flight Servant.
No Swarmer objected to his Hunter scent command. No Swarmer elsewhere in the nest objected. Not even the Matron, who surely now understood why Seven had sent her to the rear of his flying nest. If any part of his nest survived the imminent collision with the killers of Swarmer larvae, it would be the strongly built rear propulsive section. While all six outer walls of every Swarmer flying nest were tough, the rear section was especially strong. And the rear chamber held its own power block, which would maintain the motion buffer device within it.
Seven expected the front of his nest to become radiative vapor as it impacted with the front of the enemy nest. Such was the natural result of two masses coming together at a large fraction of the radiation cast forth by a sky light. Even though his Flight Chamber lay in the center of the nest, he doubted anyone in the chamber would survive. The power blocks elsewhere would lose coherence. Energy would not flow to the motion buffer devices. Anything made of flesh would fly forward, impacting on the walls of the chambers within his flying nest. Those impacts would happen just before any hot vapor from the impact reached the metal of those chambers. So it would be. He and his Servants and Workers and Fighters would become a small sky light as they destroyed the killers of Swarmer larvae. He hoped the nest of Support Hunter Thirteen would carry the perception imager record of his nest’s death bite back to the colony of Food Enough, there to be shared with other Swarmers, there to be taken outward to Nest Home for viewing by the Primes. All Swarmers would know what he and those within his nest had done. Surely every Swarmer would then fly out to this sky light and do the same to the invading nests of the enemy. An enemy that knew not the fury of a Swarm aroused.
♦ ♦ ♦
Jacob had no time to react to the ramming maneuver of the wasp ship. No time to feel surprise. No time to do anything except watch his holos and the wallscreen as his four ships flashed by the surviving enemy ship at a speed of almost 30,000 kilometers per second. In that second much happened.
The ship of Seven impacted the front of the lower invader ship. A yellow-white globe of light filled the middle of the manta ray ship as Seven’s ship hit its nose and central body. That impact converted the central part of the manta ray ship and the front half of Seven’s ship into glowing plasma, thanks to the combined impact speed of two-tenths psol. Wing fragments of the invader ship flew off to either side, thrust out by the plasma ball. The rear portion of Seven’s ship became a ball of metal that tumbled through the plasma ball of the manta ray ship. Yellow-glowing metal slowly became red-glowing as the wasp ship’s rear exited the plasma ball and became an unguided fragment tumbling through cold deep space.
The two side wings of the manta ray ship glowed yellow-white at the edges where the plasma ball had touched them. They tumbled forward, moving at one-tenth psol. Smaller fragments broke off as internal plates and walls buckled under the transmitted shockwave of the central impact.
Green laser streaks turned a few fragments into vapor. Three red proton beams struck other fragments as the Lepanto and the Chesapeake passed by them. Silvery water boiled out as the proton beams cut through the smaller fragments. White air gushed out in brief spurts. But two large wing fragments had survived, along with a dozen smaller pieces.
Three white stars glowed ahead of the fleet as Smart Rock salvos converged on three antimatter balls.
Then seventeen white stars glowed in front of the Lepanto as missiles from all fleet ships intersected black balls of antimatter that rushed toward his fleet.
Eight white dots danced from side to side as they rushed toward the Chesapeake, the Lepanto, the Aldertag and the Philippine Sea.
Three white stars showed to the left side as clusters of Smart Rocks impacted on three of those AM balls and collapsed their containment fields.
Five white dots grew large in the front wallscreen.
They became three white stars as missiles from the Chesapeake and the Lepanto struck them and combined with the balls of antimatter into miniature suns.
“Dropping ship,” called Melody.
The two surviving antimatter balls flew above the Lepanto’s top hull.
One became a white star as a Philippine Sea missile struck it.
The surviving ball swirled upward on its magfield drive, reaching for the Aldertag.
Light flared.
“We’re hit!” yelled Joan. “Rear missile silo is gone. Thrusters intact. It was a glancing blow. Thank god for our speed!”
The situational holo showed what mattered.
Four green dots showed that all fleet ships were alive and functioning.
The red dot of Thirteen’s ship receded behind the fleet as it headed out toward the Kuiper belt.
Purple fragments from the lower invader ship flashed past his ships, headed outward on a vector track that was the same as Thirteen’s ship.
A second red dot moved ahead of the fleet. It was the rear segment of Seven’s ship. The only part that remained from the wasp’s choice to kill the invader ship by ramming it with his ship.
Jacob felt amazement that any part of the manta ray ship and the wasp ship still survived. He put it down to the intersection speeds of the two ships. Any ship part that was not immediately engulfed in the plasma ball of contact survived to escape the plasma, there to fly on into the cold darkness of deep space. Those fragments would glow with infrared heat for some time. Maybe even glow after the molten metal edges cooled, if somehow they contained working inertial dampers, air and survivors.
“All ships, cease firing!” he called out.
It was a redundant command.
The Tactical people on all four ships had stopped firing their lasers and proton beams as soon as impact fragments passed beyond the ten thousand kilometer reach of the Earth weapons. Well, there was at least one worthwhile command he could give.
“All ships, call in any missiles that are still intact. Might as well store them for future battles.”
“Calling in three missiles,” muttered Rebecca, her charcoal black face tight as her jaw muscles clenched.
“Recalling two missiles,” said Joy, sounding disappointed that her weapons had not found a target.
“No missiles to recall,” reported Joan.
Jacob fixed on the woman from Minnesota, a woman who knew something about space combat thanks to the Callisto conflict. The gray streaks in her blond hair looked matted. Clearly her vacsuit helmet had strained to handle her sweat moisture.
Joan winced, then shook off the touch of her XO, an Asian man half her age. “Three missiliers lost when our launch silo went blooey from that glancing contact. Thank god most of the antimatter failed to contact us, or this ship would have no engines. And maybe half my crew would be dead.”
Three dead out of a crew of seventy-one. Actually it was three dead out of four ships containing hundreds of men and women who had done their jobs, had manned their stations and had trusted in their deck chiefs and captains to fight this first battle against a new alien enemy. He hated losing people. He just hoped the three deaths would result in trust from Hunter Thirteen. And an invitation to join that wasp ship in its voyage to the colony of Food Enough. Well, that was in the future. More important was the operational status of the other ships.
“Chesapeake, you took graser hits. You also Philippine Sea. What’s your status?”
“We lost our topside front sensor array,” Rebecca said, her face muscles still tight clenched. “Also lost our belly plasma battery. Leastwise neither device is responding to my Tactical officer. No reports of rad injury from any crew. We are fully combat operational.”
Jacob nodded. The gamma-ray beam impacts had been expected. Rebecca’s report meant the electronics were fried for both those units. But stuff like that could be replaced. Better than being melted down, as had happened in battles in the two Kepler systems.
“Sir,” called Joy, looking very matter-of-fact. “Several square meters of our belly adaptive optics lenses are not responding to my Tactical officer’s signals. No rad injury to any crew. Guess the hull and water layer blocked the gamma rays. Combat ready we are.”
He looked over to red-haired Rosemary. “Tactical, what’s the damage to the Lepanto from those gamma-ray hits?”
The woman’s milky-white face looked back to him from within her helmet. She seemed at ease. “Our topside sensor array is non-response. The hit we took on the ship’s nose knocked out twenty square meters of adaptive optics lenses. Leastwise, they are not responding to my diagnostic signals. No reports of rad injury from Med Hall or any deck chief.”
StarFight 3: Battlecry Page 8