The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  *

  “Your assigned patrol route for today is Delta D-15,” the officer of the deck said, handing Estelle an electronic map of the path around the Temper system. “You should ensure that you hit all four checkpoints at least once an hour.”

  Dodds stole a glance over Estelle’s shoulder at the route map, to see if there was anything interesting on their patrol that day, even a minute piece of information that might make the next four hours a bit more bearable.

  There was nothing.

  It had been the same for the past three weeks, and he desperately wanted something to happen to break the monotony of the hours spent in the cockpit. It was exactly as he had feared after Meyers had given his initial brief the day they’d arrived. The patrols were tedious affairs, with little to do but keep a hand on the stick and either watch his radar or the traffic passing through the jumpgates. Today was looking no different.

  He looked around himself. The flight deck of the orbital station was never silent. Starfighters were constantly being returned to their bays or taxiing to the catapult, preparing for launch. Engineers and technicians were working to repair wear and tear, as well as performing general maintenance. Munitions handlers were moving heavily laden trolleys around the deck so that they could be loaded onto fighters.

  A number of different craft occupied the bays here, the TAF being the most common. Next was the two-seater Ray. Though the craft was less nimble than the TAF, it benefited from greater defensive and offensive capabilities. Availability allowing, Chaz and Enrique would usually co-pilot one together during their shift. Otherwise, their flight group consisted exclusively of TAFs. Several heavy-class Rooks occupied other bays, though none of them had moved in all the weeks that Dodds had been stationed at Spirit, the fighters’ main purpose said to be the defence of the station itself.

  “Hot out there today?” Enrique said, as Dodds and Estelle continued to study the route map.

  “Been all quiet so far, sir,” the OOD replied.

  No surprises there, Dodds thought. Around him, others were finishing their patrols. He watched with envy as pilots coming off duty removed their helmets and left the flight deck, returning to their quarters for a well-earned hot shower. He looked forward to being in their position later. At least today’s scheduled patrol wasn’t a very long one.

  He watched as Estelle clicked through the map a few times, scrutinizing each segment carefully, before handing it back.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Everything good?” the officer asked.

  “Yep.”

  Nope, thought Dodds.

  “Okay, we’ll see you back here at twenty-hundred hours,” the OOD said, before heading off.

  Only if I don’t die of boredom in the cockpit beforehand.

  “Right, Kelly, I want you out there first,” Estelle said. “Takeoff and then hold position outside the orbital until we are all assembled. Got it?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” Kelly said, shuffling off towards her waiting TAF.

  “Best to make sure that she’s actually with us and not bumbling about someplace else,” Estelle muttered to the three men standing on the flight deck with her. The four watched as Kelly’s TAF accelerated down the catapult. Estelle followed her out soon afterwards.

  Shortly after, an attendant signalled to Dodds that his own TAF was ready and he traipsed his way over to the starfighter. One day of proper action was all that he wished for as he stepped up into the TAF’s seat. He secured his helmet, buckled himself in and then gave a thumbs-up to Enrique and Chaz. Enrique gave him a thumbs-up in return; Chaz, an almost invisible nod, one that would have been easily missed had Dodds not known what to expect of the man.

  With his TAF taxied to the catapult, Dodds waited to be granted clearance to launch. Staring down the illuminated tunnel to the dark space beyond, he tried to gear himself up for the hours ahead. He now understood why Temper was often referred to as ‘Action Central’.

  “Lieutenant Dodds, this is Tower – you’re clear for takeoff,” a woman’s voice came over his comms.

  “Yeah thanks, Tower,” he said, wanting to add “I’ll be sure to let you know if anything interesting happens, such as us happening to come across Dragon, hidden under a load of black tarpaulin.” He refrained, but barely.

  Please, just remind me I’m alive, he begged, as his TAF hurtled down the catapult and out the station. At least for just one day.

  *

  “He’s doubling back!” Dodds cried, as the craft he had been tailing barrelled and then circled around over his head. He dipped out of its way, before rolling around to continue his pursuit.

  “I’m on him!” Kelly called, moving in behind the target he had lost. “Holding for a lock!”

  Dodds held back, watching as she brought the craft into her sights. She adjusted her speed, so as to hold it there for as long as possible and give her onboard computer time to lock the missile. Her opponent’s flight patterns were all over the place, swerving this way and that, Kelly doing her best to counter the erratic movements. Dodds kept up with them both, waiting for the outcome and preparing to react if Kelly’s attempt to bring her target down was unsuccessful. She had only to keep the craft within her HUD for a few moments longer and then the missile would be ready to fir— The fighter suddenly boosted away, shaking her off and diving straight down.

  Kelly swore, and Dodds immediately resumed his own pursuit.

  The White Knights had been halfway through their patrol when they were alerted to a set of unidentified vessels, travelling through their assigned route. Speeding into the vicinity, they had sighted their quarry, the three craft bunched up close together and appearing to be in a hurry. Their trajectory put them on course with a jumpgate that would take them deeper into Confederation space, their speed and formation suggesting that they were trying to pass through as quickly as possible to avoid detection.

  Estelle’s requests for identification, destination and business purpose had been ignored, the three vessels maintaining their tight formation and increasing their speed. Based on their vessel of choice – the Dart, a cheap single-seat, general purpose craft, with innumerable available variants – Estelle had concluded that they must be wanted criminals. She had challenged them twice more before the craft had turned hostile. She had gone on to order them to stand down several times, before Dodds had reminded her that they didn’t seem to be the talkative type.

  Dodds’ cannons flared, but the Dart in his sights swung away the moment he squeezed the trigger. He began adjusting his heading when he noticed another TAF swoop into view. There was little doubt in his mind that it was Kelly. She appeared to be having greater luck keeping the craft in her sights this time, and a few moments later she declared her lock and her intention to fire. The others acknowledged her and an instant later she loosed the missile. It sped away from her, leaving a subtle trail of blue particles as it twisted and curled around to keep up with its target’s frantic attempts to evade it.

  That should probably make up for being tardy, Dodds thought, as the Dart exploded in a shower of debris.

  “Target down,” Kelly reported.

  “Good work, Kelly,” Estelle responded. “One down, two to go.”

  A stream of particle-cannon fire hurtled past Dodds’ cockpit, before he felt his TAF gently vibrate as the remainder of the barrage connected with his rear shields. “Got one right behind me!” he called.

  He swung away, seeing the Dart that had been on his tail sweep past him. The craft faltered for a moment, making a course adjustment, before appearing to think better of it. The pilot seemed unsure what next to do. It then accelerated away, in a seemingly random direction. Dodds had doubts as to Estelle’s identification of the pilots of the craft. They clearly weren’t very experienced combatants, as he would’ve expected of smugglers, pirates or raiders. These guys were amateurs. The death of their comrade also appeared to have had a detrimental effect on the performance of the two remaining Dart pilots, whose handl
ing had become ever more sloppy. Their confidence had clearly been shaken.

  His comms popped as Estelle came through with her orders. “Enrique, Chaz, stay on your target. Kelly you assist them. Dodds, help me with the other one.”

  “Got it,” Dodds confirmed.

  The four Confederation fighters divided as Estelle had ordered and set after their targets. The Darts weaved and dived as the Knights tailed them, frequently coming close to collisions with their pursuers as they made snap changes to their headings. Plasma and particle bolts flew in every direction as the two sides attempted to bring one another down, none quite managing to hit home.

  “Damn this crap HUD!” Dodds cursed, as his opponent evaded another burst of his guns. After three weeks of benefiting from the ATAF’s predictive targeting capabilities, he now felt crippled without it. The benefits the advanced starfighter offered had clearly spoilt him and he was finding it difficult to readjust, even with the weekly simulator practice runs. It dawned on him that this was the first time he’d found himself in a real life combat situation for quite some time. The Dart skimmed through his sights. He fired and missed again. “Why the bloody hell haven’t they loaded the ATAF’s combat software onto these damn crates?” he asked in frustration.

  “I hear you, mate,” Enrique said, “feels like I’m trying to do this with one arm tied behind my back.”

  Dodds had lost sight of his target. He looked to his radar for help. At the same instant he located it, he heard Chaz’s voice cut into his comms. He then caught the blare of a warning siren, heard both Chaz and Enrique swear, and then both men start speaking rapidly.

  One of the Darts was pulling away from the Ray that Chaz and Enrique flew together. Dodds then caught sight of a missile screaming its way toward the two-man vessel. The Ray shifted, though not nearly as fast as Chaz and Enrique would’ve wanted, and the fighter rocked as the missile slammed into its topside. Dodds’ comms buzzed and spluttered for a moment, cutting out here and there, before returning to normal. He found himself almost sharing the heavy vibration Enrique and Chaz would’ve felt ripping through their bodies at the moment of impact.

  “Guys, are you okay?” Dodds asked, hunting around for the Dart that had once again given him the slip.

  “We’ve sustained moderate damage. Shielding is running at sixty percent efficiency,” Chaz reported back. “Top and frontal shield quadrants have collapsed, but they’re starting to recover.”

  “That was a heavy hit,” Enrique said.

  Dodds agreed. Whatever was packed into that warhead had managed to drive itself all the way through the Ray’s shields. Their flying might be sloppy, but when it came to firepower the Dart pilots weren’t messing around.

  “There’s significant damage to the topside,” Chaz added, “but we’re okay; nothing we can’t handle.”

  Dodds glanced to his radar, in time to see a red triangle sitting directly in the middle, almost right on top of him. A moment later, the four pale grey rear fins and bright cyan glow of the Dart’s single engine swept across his cockpit view. There you are, you bastard! He immediately gave chase, another TAF swooping just ahead of him. It was Estelle.

  As they closed in on the Dart, Dodds saw something detach from one of the fins. At first, he thought it was a decoy. Then, as the object arced up and around, completing a half-loop and coming straight for them, leaving a thinly visible trail behind it, he realised otherwise. He heard Estelle swear, and once again caught the fleeting lock warnings from the onboard computer systems.

  Such was the range from its target that the missile completed its manoeuvre within a matter of seconds, slamming headlong into her. For the briefest of moments he saw her TAF’s frontal shield quadrant collapse, the illusion of bright blue splinters spraying forth, before the missile’s detonation engulfed it. Estelle deviated from the chase, blundering off in a random direction. She must’ve been temporarily blinded by the missile’s impact.

  “Estelle!” he called to her.

  “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, though there was a detectable quiver in her voice.

  They had to take down their opponents quickly! The Dart flyers were getting desperate. And with it, a lot more dangerous! He caught an explosion out of the corner of his eye.

  “Target down,” Kelly once again reported.

  Somewhere in the distance, Dodds caught the faint green glow of several sets of plasma bolts. The Dart that had attacked Enrique and Chaz must’ve pulled out of its dive and flown right in front of Kelly, unwittingly bringing itself more or less dead on with her heading. Kelly was left with little more to do than just pull the trigger.

  Damn that girl was good, an absolute natural, Dodds thought. Who’d of thought that of an ex-socialite?

  With his companions dead, and now even more outnumbered and outgunned than ever, Dodds saw their last remaining opponent appear to give up. Breaking away, the pilot swung their Dart around, put full power to their engines and attempted to escape from the naval pilots as fast as they could, resuming their effort to reach the far-off jumpgate. The four fighters gave chase immediately.

  The Dart was fast, faster than the Knights’ own fighters, and would soon be out of range of their guns.

  But not their missiles.

  Estelle was the first to obtain a lock. She called it. The others acknowledged her.

  “No! Stop, please! I … not go back there! Please to not send me go back! Give me safe! GIVE ME SAFE …”

  Dodds paused. For a moment, he wondered if his comms had become faulty. The voice wasn’t one that he immediately recognised. But as the small red triangle on his radar screen started to blink, he realised that it was coming from the Dart up ahead.

  “They not be stopped! They kill me! They kill you! They kill all of us! Please, to let me go! I want to be away from them! PLEASE!”

  The voice brought some discomfort to Dodds. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something in it that made him feel more than a little unsettled. It was sheer terror, the kind of terror that sounded as though it had been ingrained into the man’s very soul.

  “Estelle, wait!” he called out.

  Too late; Estelle had fired.

  Dodds watched helplessly as the missile was loosed from the TAF leading the pack and streaked towards its target. The distressed voice of the Dart pilot continued as the missile devoured the distance between it and its destination. Dodds had to stop it! He looked down at his TAF’s controls, seeking a way, any way, to put a stop to the missile that was seconds away from destroying its target. He found none, and looked back to the final floundering manoeuvres of the Dart just as the missile connected, killing the craft’s occupant and leaving behind questions that might now never be answered.

  *

  He slowed his TAF as Estelle did, pulling up alongside her, staring ahead at the tumbling clutter of alloys.

  Estelle swore, then said, “What the hell was that all about?”

  “I have no idea,” Dodds replied. It sounded too real to have been a bluff. The man’s final words had been almost hysterical. “I not go back there!” Go back where? “They kill me! They kill you! They kill all of us!” Who was going to kill him? Who were the people in the Darts?

  Estelle was talking, but Dodds wasn’t paying full attention to what she was saying. Even so, it was clear that she was regretting her actions and now wanted nothing more than to have brought the man back to Spirit for questioning. He looked to his radar and saw Enrique and Chaz pulling up beneath the three of them.

  “Hey, Enrique, how you guys doing down there? Any further damage?”

  Silence.

  “Chaz? How’re we looking?” Enrique prompted.

  “The same. Minor structural damage. Shielding is still at sixty percent,” Chaz replied.

  “You okay, man?” Enrique’s voice came after a pause.

  “Yeah,” Chaz answered. “Just need to make sure we’re good for the rest of the patrol.”

  Dodds noted that the big man sounded
somewhat distracted. “What now, Estelle?” he said, watching as what remained of the Dart continued to tumble, short and break apart ahead of him.

  “We … er … transfer a report of our findings and the engagement back to Spirit Orbital,” she said. “Chaz, Enrique, could you … please send them a detailed report of your damage, so that … they … er … so they can be prepared to handle it effectively upon our return. Kelly, ensure you have a record of the targets you took down. Just their USIDs will do. After we’re done, we’ll continue with the patrol. We still have a while before quitting time.”

  Estelle didn’t sound good. Dodds saw her turn her head in his direction and he tapped at his console, opening up a private channel to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Dodds.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, Dodds.”

  He could tell that that wasn’t entirely true. Something had rattled her, and he doubted it was the near-death experience of the missile alone. “Estelle—”

  “Seriously, Dodds, don’t worry,” then, to the team, “Okay, everyone, please set yourselves back on the patrol route. I’ll join you in a moment. I just need to make a note of something.”

  She cut the link and Dodds began to pull away from her, Kelly following after him, Enrique and Chaz moving a short time later.

  He then heard Estelle exhale a deep breath. “Calm down, girl, calm down,” she said, in a quiet voice. “He only said all that to freak you out and you took the bait. That missile didn’t kill you. You didn’t have to bail out and you’ve had worse than that before. Calm down. Finish the patrol, get home, have some food, a drink and a good rest.”

  Dodds didn’t say anything. Estelle mustn’t have realised that the private channel was still open. Even so, he could relate. It was the first real combat any of them had experienced in months, yet somehow it had felt a lot more real than usual. He heard her continue talking for a while, reassuring herself and counting slowly to ten. He put his own comms on mute, so as not to cause her any embarrassment. Closing it would only cause a notification to alert her. When she found the channel open later on, she’d likely think it was only a glitch, having not heard him speak.