Broadsword_War for Humanity

by Will Crudge

  The battlespace spread out before him in intricate detail. Every sensor on the ship now filled his awareness far more effectively than his human senses ever could. The enemy ships that had broken out of their formation had initiated their thruster burn. They’re committed now! He realized. Now he decided to pull four of his allied cruisers into a tight formation. He ordered them to place their helm, sensor, and weapons controls over to their perspective AI’s, and they responded instantly.

  Only one of the smaller cruisers, the UAHC Leonidas, was of modern design. The other three were older cruisers from Alpha Site’s training fleet, and so he didn’t have time to query their capability to merge with neural interfaces… He would have to interface directly with AI’s that could respond as fast as the broadcasted signals could be relayed.

  The other vessels in the squadron maintained their original course, and were per suing the larger group of enemy ships that broke off earlier. Admiral Olaf delegated the UAHC Hannibal to assume the role of flagship for the main effort. Now five UAHC warships would cover their flank, and engage the stragglers.

  Wilkins could see the remaining ships adjust their vectors and reduce their velocity slightly. The enemy dreadnaught was slower to execute the maneuver, and Wilkins ordered the Leonidas to burn hard to flank in response. The modern UAHC cruiser would be the perfect priority target to catch the attention of the massive ship. I can only pray that they deem the older training vessels to be the lesser threat. He thought to himself.

  The Leonidas broke off and went into a full burn at thirty two degrees off of their current course, and off to the starboard flank. The slower enemy dreadnaught would catch it in its sector of fire for a KEPL shot.

  Meanwhile the gap between the four remaining ships and the enemy was reduced to only fifty kilometers, and Wilkins ordered a full barrage of beam fire. It was a quick decision. He knew the close-in battle made beam fire more effective range-wise, but the gap was still wide enough for countermeasures against kinetic projectiles. He considered opening up with a KEPL barrage, but he wasn’t confident in how quickly the older vessels could adjust their energy shields to safe levels to allow for it.

  No. He decided. We’ll be doing this the old way. Pound them with energy shield depleting beam fire, and then kick them in the teeth with kinetics!

  He felt the sensor arrays pick up on a swarm of enemy fighters trying to flank them on their port side, but they were overcommitting to a wide arc at heavy g’s. He decided to punish them for being over-eager. While the older training ships were lacking in many ways, they had robust maneuvering thrusters. This over-engineered feature allowed for intense maneuvers to test the skills of UAHC Fleet forces during training… And Wilkins figured the Crimson ships would be completely unaware of this. They only kept data files on deployable UAHC vessels… not two to five hundred year old dinosaurs.

  The deceleration maneuver tested the upper limits of the inertial dampening systems, and the four warships abruptly fired reverse thrusters. The enemy fighters were already maneuvering at the edge of their design limits, and there was no hope for them to respond in time.

  Moments earlier, the enemy fighters were in perfect position to pound the exposed flank of the ancient ships… but now they were directly in the optimum kill zone for beam fire and defensive turrets. The swarm of enemies had no time to decelerate and avoid the kill zone, and Wilkins felt a surge of personal satisfaction as he opened fire.

  Beams, auto-cannons, and short-range missile filled the space before them as the doomed fighters were torn to shreds. Pulse of light and burning hulls lit up the blackness of space. Wilkins found it beautiful, and decided it resembled fireflies illuminating the summer sky back on his homeworld.

  It was all over in seconds. The hulls and wreckage of the fighters were swept away by their own inertia. Now there was a clear path to the enemy cruisers ahead.

  Wilkins turned his attention to the Leonidas before ordering a medium range missile barrage on the enemy ships directly ahead of him. He couldn’t afford to overcommit an engagement of his own, while leaving the UAHC cruiser high and dry without support.

  But the friendly vessel didn’t need any assistance. The plan was working. The enemy dreadnaught had broken free from its vector correction, and was now attempting to line up a KEPL shot on the Leonidas.

  But the Leonidas had better things to do than be shot out of the sky…

  Wilkins saw everything that happened with amazing detail. The dreadnaught’s energy shield began to dial down and pulse into visible ripples of blue energy from its prow. The retracting energy shield was the pre-cursor to a KEPL engagement. The sixty tone projectile would lose too much momentum if it had to force its way outward from the less-advanced Crimson shield technology. The only option was to temporarily leave the hull exposed to make the shot count.

  It was at that very moment that the Leonidas unleashed a barrage of five inch rail fire. The eight port-side mounted rail guns hurled small depleted uranium projectiles at speeds that even a KEPL could not match. The relative close range engagement was perfect for such an attack, as the Crimson would never expect the UAHC to use rail guns as a primary attack method for a cruiser.

  UAHC Fleet doctrine considered the rail guns to only be a method of attack for smaller destroyers, frigate, or sloops. Since cruisers were designed to fight at extreme ranges, the rail guns were only used as a method of last resort for defensive fire… but never to attack.

  The Crimson expected anything but rail guns to knock out their targeting sensor array. The forward mounted targeting sensors were protected from beam fire by reflective heat shielding, and the hundreds of defensive projectile turrets would make quick work out of any incoming missiles. Therefore, unless they were threatened by an incoming KEPL round, they had no issues with retracting their forward energy shields… up until now.

  The sensor arrays visual signature was replaced by the blind light of the rail gun impacts. Now the enemy dreadnaught’s primary weapon was useless. Without any means of forming a viable firing solution, trying to fire blindly with a KEPL was akin to trying to shoot a specific fish… somewhere in the ocean… blindfolded… with a slingshot.

  A hail of missiles erupted from the dreadnaught mere seconds before the massive ship’s energy shield snapped back into full array and became transparent once more.

  But the Leonidas was in no danger. The cruiser transitioned to FTL just as the missiles closed the twenty kilometer gap.

  Wilkins wondered if the crew of the enemy dreadnaught knew they were already beaten. But he had more important things to focus on, so he cleared it out of his mind.

  The remaining enemy vessels were not going to just sit there and be nice cooperative targets, Wilkins realized. The sensors filled his awareness with incoming enemy fire. So he ordered and quick change of randomly chosen vectors.

  Beam fire was registering against the Broadsword’s shielding, but to Wilkins’ surprise, the shielding was holding at over ninety seven percent. Not bad for an old bucket!

  The remaining cruisers were fanning out to make them less susceptible to concentrated fire, but they were careless. They chose a highly predictable pattern. Forming a sort of hexagon shape, the enemy ships began to spread out. This is what happens when you give ships to para-military thugs! He realized they were simply using a textbook maneuver, and following it to the letter. It was a common mistake for inexperience commanders. Textbook maneuvers were taught as a foundation to learn from, but not to actually use in live combat.

  Wilkins didn’t hesitate to make them pay dearly for their novice defensive pattern. He modified his maneuvering plan in real-time, and the ship AI’s acknowledged just as fast as the data could travel through the vacuum of space.

  The ancient dreadnaught made a subtle vector adjustment, and then let its newly upgraded thruster’s burn at capacity. The three cruisers at his flanks made fully randomized vector changes, and then fired their thrusters at varied burn rates. I’ll see your picture perfec
t formation, and raise you a totally chaotic one!

  He knew his plan was simple, yet elegant. While the hexagon shaped defensive formation the enemy had formed allowed for maximum overlap of sectors of fire, it had one major drawback… maneuverability. The enemy cruisers had to remain in generally fixed positions to minimize collateral damage, so as long as they were facing the enemy’s advance, they were well-positioned to defend. The randomized speeds and vectors of the UAHC ships were developed to make it difficult for an enemy to calculate a firing solution at extreme ranges. That was standard doctrine. But the gap between opposing forces was closing to within twelve kilometers… which was absurdly close for conventional combat.

  The randomized patterns were doctrinally correct, and the enemy would have expected it. If they weren’t complete idiots, Wilkins thought. We’ll lull you bastards into an easy victory!

  But that’s when a dozen new contacts dropped out of slip-space…

  Guys and Gals in Red

  Location: Forge Station, STC Tower

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 08/04/4201 2315HRS Local

  System: Forge Controlled Space

  “Sir, the enemy squadron has split off!” Allyson reported as she craned her neck around to find Tyler’s face. His eyes were squinting as if he were in deep thought, and she wondered if he was already aware of the situation. She just let her words hang for a moment until the senior agent spoke.

  “I’m sending you a data packet to your neural interface. It contains my command token. Make sure it gets transmitted to the Maelstrom as soon as you get it.” Tyler said dead-panned. His facial features remained fixed as if he were a statue. Allyson nodded in acknowledgement, and a moment later the data packet entered her awareness.

  She turned back to her console, and forwarded the packet to the message bank. She then queried the CSS Maelstrom, and found its secured IDENT code. The dreadnaught served as the flagship of the defensing squadron. She proceeded to send the message just as fast as she could, and then she waited for the acknowledgement icon to appear.

  “Sir, the IDENT for the Maelstrom is… unconventional.” She said as she pulled up the data tag for the dreadnaught.

  “That’s because it’s not a traditional military vessel.” He replied. “It’s an agency ship.”

  Allyson spun around and looked at Tyler with her eyes wide open. “The agency has a squadron of warships?”

  Tyler nodded. “Yes. A few, actually. The crews were patched together recently, and given a crash course in space-based warfare. Their sole purpose is to defend the agents within the hyper gate stations. This way the fleet commanders can focus on the invasion without having to divert resources to cover their advances.”

  “Why was I not aware of this?” Allyson asked straight-faced.

  “Because you didn’t need to know until now.” Tyler replied with a scornful expression. Allyson suddenly felt her nerves race. She realized she must have been too bold with her question.

  “Y-yes, Sir.” She said sheepishly and then turned back to her scan. She watched as five UAHC warships peeled off towards the Crimson Agency’s larger vessels. She also took note that the swarm of destroyers had seemed to shrink. They were just here a second ago!

  She decided to shrug off the thought and just stay on task. Several minutes went by, and she watched a single UAHC cruiser engage the Maelstrom. She couldn’t believe any ship’s captain would square off with a dreadnaught at close range. But now it was clear. It had to be some kind of diversion. Her suspicions were confirmed when the cruiser transitioned to FTL, and left the dreadnaught’s field of fire. The balls on that crew!

  She barely noticed Tyler had left from behind her. She was focused on the battle unfolding right in front of her. The remaining UAHC vessels began to maneuver erratically as they closed in on the Crimson ship’s defensive formation.

  Allyson never thought of herself as much of a tactician, but even a novice could tell the Crimson ships were hopefully out-matched by sheer competency alone. The defensive formation was doing nothing more than emboldening the enemy to attack. She tried counting the hulls of the vanquished Crimson fighters, but she decided it was too emotionally taxing to take stock in fallen comrades.

  She fought back tears as her heart sank within her chest. All those poor men and women died doing their duty! Why would those capitalist degenerates slaughter them with no quarter?

  She couldn’t take the sadness any longer as she pressed her face into her hands to weep.

  Just then, an alert chimed from her console, and she slid her hands down just far enough so she could see the display. She gasped at what she saw. Twelve Crimson destroyers transitioned out of FTL, and then began to form an attack formation. They were only ten kilometers from the right flank of the enemy ships, and began opening fire with everything they had.

  “Sir!” She shouted as she jumped up from her workstation. She saw Tyler half-way across the tower facility, and he quickly turned to head towards her.

  “What is it?” He asked earnestly as he approached.

  “Look!” She said as she pointed at the engagement in progress.

  “I see.” He nodded. She realized he must have known the whole time, and the data packet she sent must have been an order of battle.

  “Is there anything I should be doing right now?” She asked as she shrugged her shoulders. The unquenchable urge to take control of something filled her mind with panic. She felt that she needed to take some sort of meaningful action, but she was otherwise helpless to do so.

  Tyler turned to look at her. “Keep your eyes on the Unum forces.”

  Unum ships! She scolded herself for forgetting about the smaller threat. “Yes, Sir.”

  Have Gunship, Will Slaughter

  Location: UDF Gunship, Slugger, CIC, Forge Station

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 08/04/4201 2042HRS Unum Standard Zulu

  System: Forge Controlled Space

  “Take a seat, Chief!” Melvin sounded off as Chief Warrant Officer Clemens shuffled entered the CIC. He noticed the middle-aged warrant officer looked even older than usual. The man’s face was covered in black carbon residue, likely from combat damage the ship had sustained further astern, Melvin supposed.

  Clemens got straight to work, and sat down at the workstation that the late Major Dorman had occupied minutes earlier. He may not have been the best qualified to assume the role, but he was a systems integration officer, and had a working knowledge of how the scan suite should operate.

  Melvin didn’t have time to second guess his decision to bring Clemens up front. He had a swarm of Mark-4 fighters trying to surge into the station-side mouth of the taxiway, and he wasn’t about to give them any opportunity to seize the initiative.

  “Simon, alert all CIC’s… Tell them to pull all Gunships forward to our position, now!” Melvin shouted as he cleared some debris from his command console seat, and then sat down.

  “Done, Sir.” The AI replied. “All flight and wing commanders have acknowledged.”

  Melvin arched both of his eyebrows and leaned back in to his seat. “That was fast!”

  “I already had a similar message preset in the data-burst buffer. I modified it and sent it…”

  “That’s great, Simon!” Melvin cut the AI off. “I don’t need the details… just get as much lead in the air as possible!”

  “Understood, Sir.” Simon replied. “All Gunships are prepared to fire on my mark.”

  “Fire!” Melvin ordered. He looked at his console display and could see a wall of gunships spitting heavy ordnance down the taxiway, and into the swarm of enemy fighters. He had to adjust his viewing filters to clear up the layers of data icons that were populating as a result.

  The image cleared and the hulls of forty seven Mark-4 fighters were bouncing into each other and off of the tubular taxiway energy shielding. Melvin likened the image to a billiard table when the rack of balls were broken by the first strike of the que ball.

  The following wave of
fighters had too much velocity to respond in time. The chaotic wall of wasted fighter wreckage became a death trap. Melvin couldn’t keep up with the numbers of fighters that were colliding with their vanquished brethren, but he couldn’t help but crack a smile either way.

  The Unum flotilla was nearing the debris field themselves, and now Melvin had a whole new problem. How the fuck are we going to get through this shit?

  “Sir, we have a new contact transitioning through the gate to our rear!” Clemens reported. Melvin made eye contact with the older man, but his face was impossible to read given the amount of carbon on the man’s face.

  “Why is that significant, chief?” Melvin scolded. He didn’t like his time being wasted on any normal day… but this day was far from normal.

  “Because, Sir… It’s fucking fast!”

  Melvin cocked his head in confusion, and locked his eyes on the icon that denoted the new contact. What the fuck is an LRGS-110? He had to double check the IDENT code, but quickly realized it was reporting correctly. The track blazed its own path behind them, and seemed to be sliding right past the armada of cutters and gunships.

  “Simon, what the fuck is that thing?” Melvin asked.

  “That thing is the only operational LRGS-110 in existence.” Simon replied plainly.

  Melvin didn’t have time to pry, and wasn’t in the mood for vague answers. “Is it friendly?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Simon replied. “He’s hailing us.”

  He? Melvin wondered if Simon knew more about this new ship than what he was letting on. “On screen!”

  The image of a middle-aged man with tightly slicked back hair emerged on the screen. Melvin could only see him from the neck up, but saw no sign of a typical flight suit collar.

  “This is General Melvin.”

  “It’s an honor, General.” The man spoke. “I am War Master Zayne Patton, and I see you’re in need of a clear path!”

  War Master? Melvin was astonished. He knew the War Master Guild very well, and had lived in close proximity to their only remaining temple back on Unum Planetoid. But even for most Unum citizens, meeting a War Master was a rare event. “We are, War Master. We are indeed.”