The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  “Agreed,” Meyers said, “I will begin deployment of fighter defence immediately.”

  “And I will make preparation for the rearguard,” Hawke added.

  Parks moved to speak, then hesitated. During the planning stages of the operation, Hawke had volunteered to use Ifrit and its full complement as rearguard to the mission, defending Griffin, Leviathan, Grendel, and Grendel’s Mother. Should the enemy manage to attack the allied force from behind, Hawke would move Ifrit in to offer support. Parks had raised doubts as to the validity of such a tactic, suggesting it would be better for Hawke to concentrate Ifrit’s strength up front, rather than reduce their offensive power. Hawke had argued that whilst this would indeed allow them to take down the enemy faster, they shouldn’t assume that enemy support wouldn’t be forthcoming. To do so could risk the allied forces being flanked or otherwise surrounded by hostile forces, meaning that retreating from the system could prove difficult.

  After much deliberation, Parks had begrudgingly agreed to Hawke’s tactical proposals. But having now arrived at Aster, he was once again considering ordering Hawke to remain up front. He pushed aside the urge to enter into another debate with the man, not wanting to stall the operation for even one second longer than necessary.

  “Very well,” Parks said to Hawke, “I will be in contact as soon as we are ready to begin manoeuvres.”

  The orders were given, and from out the frontal viewport Parks saw a variety of craft stream forth from each of the assembled carriers, taking up positions ahead of the group. A short time later, Leviathan and Grendel started forward, their starfighters following them like obedient puppies. Griffin and Grendel’s Mother in turn followed at a distance, the four carriers all moving closer to the expected arrival point of Dragon and her escorts. If they were too far out, it would give the battleship ample time to escape the ambush. They slowed as they approached their designated positions and soon called in to report their readiness.

  Parks noted that Ifrit had barely moved since arriving at their destination, but though it irritated him he chose to ignore it. Hawke did have a somewhat persuasive argument. Still, Parks felt that Hawke’s command and Ifrit’s muscle would be better appreciated at this end of the field.

  “Good,” he said, “you should each be aware of your role in this operation, which will begin the moment Dragon is sighted. Should anything unexpected occur that we cannot quickly and effectively handle, then we will form a tactical retreat. Ifrit, I expect, will cover us in such an event.”

  “You will have my full support if such an event does arise,” Hawke said.

  “Excellent. If all our information is correct, then Dragon should be putting in an appearance very soon. All we need to do now is wait,” Parks concluded. Although from the way his hands had started to perspire, he got the feeling that they wouldn’t be waiting very long.

  *

  Dodds sat up as the red alert rang throughout the carrier, various orders and requests sounding from the PA system and echoing down the ship’s corridors. He saw people moving past the quarters’ doorway, catching snatches of conversations of how they were on their way to the bar to watch the events of the operation, and felt an overwhelming compulsion to join them. He sprang off the bed, making for the exit.

  “Hey, you guys coming?” he said to the others.

  “Where are you going?” Estelle said.

  “To the bar, to get a look at Dragon,” Dodds said. “I want to see this thing with my own two eyes.” He was surprised that Estelle wasn’t keen on doing so herself.

  “Wait for me,” Enrique said, as he clambered off his own bed. Kelly followed suit, stretching as she did so. Chaz tailed the two out the door, heading off down the corridor with them, silent as ever. Dodds lingered by the quarters’ doorway, waiting for Estelle. She hadn’t moved.

  “Hey, Dodds, what’s the holdup?” Enrique called back.

  “Go on without me,” he said. “I’ll catch you up.”

  “Alright,” Enrique nodded and continued on with Kelly and Chaz.

  “Hold the lift,” Dodds added. He then looked back to Estelle, who was still perched on the end of the bed he had occupied. “You’re not coming? Once in a lifetime opportunity, Estelle. We might never get a chance like this again.”

  “No,” Estelle said, shaking her head, “I’ll wait here. If we’re needed then they’ll look for us here first.”

  “Sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Dodds studied her. She looked pensive. He made to head off, then hesitated and came back to the doorway. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Like I said, I just want to make sure we can be contacted.”

  “Hmm, okay.” Dodds was certain that Estelle, like himself, knew that it was a poor excuse. The ship’s PA system could be used to contact anyone aboard the ship, no matter where they were. He wondered if there was something else playing on her mind. Had she suffered a sudden attack of nerves the moment that the alarm had started, the reality of the situation having only now just sunk in? Perhaps Estelle was now sharing the same fear that had gripped Kelly back on Spirit, realising that they could potentially be facing off against seasoned starfighter pilots and warships.

  He started off down the corridor to catch up with the others, then doubled back one last time. Estelle shouldn’t miss out on something like this. He stepped back into the quarters, about to tell her to join them, when he saw her now stretched out across the bed he had vacated. She was looking up at the ceiling, taking slow, measured breaths. One hand was over her heart, as if trying to stop it from bursting out of her ribcage.

  “Please stop ringing,” she said to the alarm. “Just stop.”

  Dodds crept away from the quarters without a word.

  *

  Griffin’s bar, located on the port side of the main elevated portion of the carrier, offered a panoramic view of the surrounding space. The intention was to provide a pleasant backdrop for those relaxing and enjoying a drink while on lengthy tours and deployments. Due to its position, the bar was – aside from the bridge – the best place on the ship to get a feel for what was happening beyond its sometimes claustrophobic interior.

  Many other crew members were already clustered by the windows towards the front, and the four Knights hurried over to see what was happening. Even before he had made it to the windows, Dodds could hear people cursing under their breath. He managed to find himself a spot and very quickly added some profane words of his own.

  Unmissable, even at its distance ahead of Griffin, was Dragon, the colossal battleship lying side-on to their view, appearing graceful, yet menacing in every aspect. Ahead of Griffin, Grendel and Leviathan could be seen approaching the battleship, the tiny blue specks of starfighter engines leading the way.

  “That is a big ship,” Chaz said.

  Dodds was hardly surprised that the sight had caused Chaz to speak. If anything was going to provoke a vocal reaction from the man, then this was surely it.

  “Where are the frigates?” Kelly asked, searching in all directions from her perch on a chair. Where Chaz was taller than most others, able to look over people’s heads rather than between them, Kelly had found the need to elevate herself in order to get a view.

  “Don’t know, can’t see any,” Dodds said, though he took little time to look, finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from the battleship that was their target.

  “Intelligence may have got it wrong,” Enrique said, “wouldn’t be the first time.”

  *

  Parks couldn’t help feeling a little unsettled by the appearance of the stolen Confederation battleship without its escorts. Not that, in all honesty, it needed any. After conferring briefly with his fellow command, he had decided to be extra vigilant over the next few minutes. Though it was possible that the frigates had been routed elsewhere, he reminded himself that this was the so-called Pandoran army they were facing, an adversary that had destroyed an entire galactic nation in a little under six years.
This was not a foe they could afford to second guess.

  Dragon had arrived in the system not long after the allied forces had completed their tactical manoeuvres, and Parks had ordered the immediate commencement of the operation. Hammerhead bombers and support fighters had surged forward, troop transports joining just behind them, ready to attach themselves to Dragon’s hull and deploy their deadly cargo of toxic gases and boarding parties.

  The time was approaching. “Prepare to transmit the override, Mr O’Donnell,” Parks said.

  “On your order, Captain,” the Chief Communications Officer replied.

  With the glow of starfighter engines steadily diminishing, Parks turned to the four holographic camera feeds he had earlier requested to monitor the operation. Each was sourced from a different target – one traced the starfighters and troop transports; another focused in on Dragon herself; yet another followed Leviathan and Grendel; and the last, the cockpit view of the squadron leader of the Initial Run flight group.

  Even from this distance, Parks found the sight of the battleship staggering. He couldn’t begin to imagine what the pilots seated within the frontline fighter craft might be feeling at this time. Though with Dragon having begun turning to face its welcoming committee, it was most likely one of considerable apprehension.

  “Approaching target,” the flight group leader communicated. “Will be within weapons range in sixty seconds.”

  Parks noted that some of the fighter pilots were lowering their speed, so as not to expose themselves to the battleship’s weapons systems too soon, their wingmates passing them by. Although both Dragon and the carriers that had come to meet it were outfitted with similar weaponry, Dragon’s own turrets had been upgraded to complement the ship, allowing them to be fired from a greater distance. That distance would soon be met by the Initial Run flight group.

  The closer the flight group drew to it, the sharper their target’s details were thrown into relief. A graphic of a magnificent, blue-scaled Chinese dragon clung to the battleship’s hull, its claws appearing to be latched deep into the metal. Dozens of tall yellow and red spines covered the creature’s back, whilst a pair of long white horns rose from the top of its head. Its mouth was open, drawn back into a ferocious snarl, displaying row upon row of razor-sharp teeth. Two furious yellow eyes seemed to trace would-be attackers, warning them off and suggesting they make haste with it.

  A truly nerve-racking sight indeed, Parks thought. Though not for someone such as himself, who had the deck stacked in their favour. “Mr O’Donnell, send the code.”

  “Transmitting fail-safe shutdown code,” O’Donnell acknowledged both Parks and the flight group, before making several brief strokes at his console. “Code sent.”

  Parks further relayed the update to all across the battlefield. The confirmations came back, and he returned his attention to the feeds to await the outcome.

  He waited.

  Waited some more.

  A little more.

  Great trepidation then overcame him, and his eyes flickered from one display to the next, seeing the same thing in each – lights continued to illuminate the surface of Dragon, windows, portholes and exterior components all visual indications that the ship was still operational. He looked past the displays to the scene beyond the carrier’s frontal viewport, considering that the feeds might not be running in real-time, perhaps delayed by a number of seconds.

  Dragon still glittered with light.

  This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all! Surely he hadn’t just done the unthinkable and underestimated the Enemy on his very first engagement? “Mr O’Donnell, give me a status update,” he said, not taking his eyes off the battleship. “What’s happening over there?”

  “Code was transmitted successfully, sir,” O’Donnell replied. “Do you want me to try again?”

  “Will be within weapons range in thirty seconds. Please advise,” came the voice of the flight group leader. The voice was calm, but with a notable trace of urgency.

  Parks’ mind raced to consider the possibilities and available options. There remained but two – he could request that the code be sent again, or he could immediately fall back to their secondary plan. If he requested that O’Donnell should retry the code, it could mean that the approach group would be vulnerable to Dragon’s weapons systems upon a second failure. On the other hand, the absence of the Crow’s Foot and Bastone in the system could mean it would be easier to secure a forceful victory …

  “Target disabled, sir,” O’Donnell interrupted his thoughts.

  Parks snapped out of his musings to see that Dragon had stopped turning and was now shrouded in darkness. Not one running light was visible anywhere along the length of the vessel. “Status?” he asked, wanting to gain a more accurate picture of Dragon’s impairment than the feeds could provide him.

  “All systems terminated,” O’Donnell said. “Shielding, weapons systems, engines and mechanics have been shut down. Life support is the only detectable working component. There must’ve been a delay in the transmission or reception of the code,” he added.

  “Gravitation systems?”

  “Down, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Parks said. “Relay that information to the boarding teams, so they can ready themselves.” He exhaled a sigh of relief. So far, so good. Aside from the minor delay, it looked as though everything was going according to plan. There now only remained the matter of flooding the interior of Dragon with the nerve agent, picking off any adversaries that had not been immobilised, and apprehending Admiral Zackaria.

  A pity we couldn’t have shut down life support, too, he thought. There would be no need to board the ship. We could’ve simply towed it back to Spirit and pulled the bodies out at the other end. But that would’ve defeated the purpose of the day. If they were going to lose either, he’d sooner it be Dragon than Zackaria.

  “Phase one of the operation is complete,” he said to the holographic images of his fellow command. “Grendel and Leviathan will continue as planned. Griffin and Grendel’s Mother will stand their ground. Should either the Crow’s Foot or the Bastone put in an appearance, then we will be in a better position to engage them.”

  “Agreed,” came the resounding answer.

  “Passing weapons range,” the Initial Run’s flight leader notified.

  Parks looked back to the feeds monitoring the approach teams, tension easing away as he saw the flight group cross the danger threshold of Dragon’s defences, unchallenged. The group were bearing broadside on to the battleship, the proximity now meaning that the flight leader’s cockpit view could no longer fully accommodate the entire length of the colossal vessel. The words “C.S.N. Dragon”, inscribed in tall, bold red lettering were now so close that Parks could start to make out where the paintwork was in need of touching up.

  Still, the feeds were painting one of the rosiest pictures he had seen in months. He thought it a shame that it didn’t appear that the ATAFs would be put through their anticipated test run today. Still, he reminded himself, after today they might not be needed at all. Andrea Kennedy and her team-mates would still be in the hold, along with the fighters, waiting to put in their surprise début. There was no point in keeping them there now. After all their hard work, he may as well reward them with the sight of history in the making.

  “Mr O’Donnell, could you please have Mr Wyatt arrange the escort of the Red Devils from the hold, up to the bridge?”

  “Beginning final approach,” the flight leader said.

  Perhaps I’ve overestimated the Enemy, Parks thought, feeling his spirits lift. Maybe I can do this after all—

  “Target is live! Target is live!” the voice of the flight leader suddenly cried over the bridge’s comms system.

  The words hit Parks like a tidal wave. He strode to the very front of Griffin’s bridge for a clearer view, feeling the need to look upon the battleship with his own two eyes, rather than rely on the camera feeds. The flight leader wasn’t wrong. Up and down the lengt
h of Dragon, running lights were springing back into existence.

  “What the hell just happened?” he called to the bridge.

  “Sir, power has just returned to Dragon! All systems are fully active!” O’Donnell said, poring over his console’s readouts. “Shields are returning, weapons and engine systems are powering up!”

  “Resend the code!” Parks said, fighting to keep the shock out of his voice.

  “Dragon is rejecting it!” O’Donnell replied, not seconds later.

  “Try again!”

  The CCO tapped frantically at his console once more. “Negative, sir!”

  Parks flew to the man’s side, leaning over the console display and seeing the multitude of errors that were greeting O’Donnell upon each unsuccessful attempt –

  Authentication Failure

  Permission Denied

  PAM Error #80401

  UTLS Hash Exception

  Connection Refused

  Not Permitted

  Invalid Security Code

  Clearance Violation – This incident will be reported

  He looked to the other operators up and down the bridge, all working feverishly at their screens. None of them seemed to be enjoying any degree of success.

  “Abort! Abort!” came the cries from the flight leader’s feed. They were shortly accompanied by the screaming sound of his fighter’s computer systems, warning him of multiple weapon locks.

  Parks saw the man pull out of his approach to Dragon, trying with all his might to shake off the battleship’s targeting systems. All around him, other craft could be seen attempting the same. Parks caught sight of a massive turret swinging around to face the flight leader. Moments later, bright green bolts of plasma belched forth from dozens of cannons, the formerly calm scene exploding into one of unmitigated chaos.

  In no time at all, the half-dozen bolts had become a veritable hail of fire, luminous green light flying in every direction, dancing and reflecting off many different surfaces, both on Dragon herself and the vessels of the allied forces.

  “Pulling ba—” the flight leader began, before the audio became an earsplitting screech of static. The video tore, froze, and then shut off completely. Another feed detailed the flight leader’s fate, his damaged Rook wheeling for a brief second before it exploded, unable to evade the sheer volume of fire any longer.