The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  Parks formulated a plan; albeit not a long-term one. “Captain Meyers, Captain Bailey, for now, we will hold position here. Have your fighters pull out and rejoin the back rows. By the looks of things, the Enemy will come to us regardless, and from there we will single out targets. Any vessel that aggressively attacks any of our own will be targeted and destroyed. It will leave us all a little more vulnerable to long-range attacks, so we will need to appropriately temper our shielding in response to that threat. But, for now, I see this strategy as our best chance at victory. Understood?”

  “Yes, Commodore,” Meyers said.

  “With your lead, Commodore,” Bailey answered.

  Nice to hear that at least two of us have faith in me, Parks thought.

  *

  The fighters and deeper entrenched capital ships pulled out as requested, bringing themselves back to join up with the rear forces. Under such heavy fire, in the chaos of streams of plasma bolts, laser beams, rockets and missiles, it was clear that such a manoeuvre was never going to be executed without losses. And the losses the allies suffered in their reorganization were not insignificant.

  Though they tried to cover themselves in their retreat, it was much like a blind man swatting at flies. Those that did survive found it wise to cling close to the frigates and carriers, the firepower afforded by those vessels still a formidable force, radar blind or not.

  Eventually, the allies had gathered themselves back to their rear lines, creating a huge gulf between the two opposing forces. A short while later, it was being crossed by all manner of Imperial fighters, surging towards the gathered allied ships.

  Under Parks’ command, the allies held their ground, only engaging the attacking forces once they had crossed the gap and had entered well into the allies’ territory. The battles that ensued thereafter were much less chaotic, and whilst the allies were willing to stand their ground, they would be able to minimize their losses.

  In the period that followed, Parks found himself somewhat happy with his decision, if not completely satisfied. He pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. Many hours had passed since he had departed Alba, travelled to Spirit and finally made the jump to Coyote. And in all that time, he felt he had accomplished very little, clawing forward barely a few hundred kilometres towards Mythos, which seemed so near, yet so far.

  And still the Enemy came at them with unrelenting ferocity.

  An Imperial Sphinx swooped low over the bridge, speeding towards the front of the carrier and raining down fire upon the bow as it went. A hail of return fire from several cannons of the gunnery pursued it, as it completed its run and twirled around to leave its target behind. It was caught by what Parks could only describe as a lucky shot from the manually operated cannons, resulting in it exploding and showering wreckage and debris in every direction.

  As a wing of TAFs broke their formation and began to hunt down more attackers, Parks looked back to the giant blue marble that was Mythos. He could still see no clear solution as to how they were to make it down to the planet’s surface. In every instance, they would have to wait for the Enemy to make the first move. It was for the Enemy to direct the battle, to decide how it was to flow. If they wanted to wait, the allies would have to wait; if they wanted to attack, the allies would have to let them. They were running the whole show.

  He knew that it was only by the greatest of graces that the Enemy hadn’t yet charged the disadvantaged allies. To do so would weaken the defence of the planet they sought to keep him from, as well as risk playing straight into the allies hands, should this be a ploy to draw them away.

  He watched a Ray bring down an attacking Mantis, the struts of the Imperial starfighter snapping off from the shattered egg-like body and tumbling away, before exploding themselves. Another two Mantises appeared soon after, as if sprouting from the remnants of their fallen comrade.

  Parks wondered how long they could keep this up for. Reinforcements would soon arrive to aid the Enemy and the allies would once again find themselves overwhelmed. He found himself looking at his watch again. Dammit! This was his operation and he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. And there was still so much to do – when they had at last gained orbital supremacy here, then they would still have to tackle the planet itself. God only knew what they might find once they got down there. And if it was anything like this, then nothing short of a miracle would help them.

  For a moment, the positive thoughts that had formed after his latest tactical decision were shattered and he felt the victory he had hoped for suddenly slipping from his grasp. He had no idea how to proceed from here on out. I can’t do this. I’m out of my depth. Whatever these people see in me simply doesn’t exist—

  “Captain!”

  Parks looked about from the scenes of battle, seeing Weathers running from the deck lift. She was looking extremely euphoric.

  “We’ve discovered the issue with the radar!” she exclaimed, thrusting a single sheet of paper into his hands. She was breathing heavily, apparently having sprinted a considerable way through the ship to deliver the news. “It’s all there, sir. The Enemy are exploiting a software vulnerability in the radar systems.”

  Parks began reading the paper, seeing words and terms that he recognised, but many that he didn’t. The further down the page he read, moving from the overview to the more detailed explanation, the more his understanding of the issue slid away. Buffers? Injections? Entry points? He read it out loud as he tried to decipher the text. “The enemy are … exploiting a vulnerability in our computer systems, to escalate user privileges and … invoke arbitrary code execution…?” It made no difference; he was bewildered. He passed the report to Liu, seeking a further explanation.

  “I understand, sir,” Liu said. “They are able to upload their own software code into our radar systems, overriding the original. They can therefore make them act any way they wish. They’ve basically sent us a computer virus.”

  “How is that possible? How can it affect all of us?” Parks said, motioning to all the allied craft on the battlefield.

  “The radar ident systems follow a galactic standard,” Liu said. “They are all compatible, and as such all vulnerable to the same exploits. I suspect that we have all implemented radar systems based off commonly-developed software code.”

  “If I’m being honest, I still have no idea what either of you just said,” Parks confessed. “But I think we can all agree that software engineers are overpaid.” Even so, he was relieved to hear that the cause of the problem was known. They were one step closer to victory. “Now, do we have a solution? Antivirus? A fix or anything?”

  “Yes, sir,” Weathers said. “We have tested a software update against a number of our systems in isolation and confirmed they are now working correctly.”

  Parks felt more of his pent-up stress beginning to slip away. “You’re sure they are working perfectly?”

  “Totally, sir,” Weathers nodded enthusiastically. “We ran it through the entire suite of tests, several times.”

  That was good enough for him. “How quickly can you apply that to the entire ship?”

  “Just waiting for your order, Captain. We can also remotely patch starfighters and other craft from here, too, so they’ll all benefit from the update.”

  It sounded too good to be true. “How confident are you, Karen?”

  “One hundred percent, sir,” the woman answered. “Though, we will need to shut down our entire radar system in order to affect the fix – we can’t hot deploy it.”

  “How long will we be blind?”

  “About ten seconds.”

  “Fine. Do it,” he said, not willing to lose any more time – or the chance of victory – to the blanketing.

  “Yes, sir,” Weathers said, sitting down at her console and tapping away rapidly at the touchscreen. The bridge’s radar systems closed down, the screens all going blank. Ten very long seconds passed. To Parks, it felt like hours till the system started back up.

  “Radar
s are back online and fully operational,” Weathers said, allowing herself a smile of satisfaction. “Automated defences are restarting.” Rapturous applause filled the bridge.

  Out the frontal viewport, Parks saw that the ship’s cannons were all making fine, uniform, mechanical movements. They were once again in the hands of the computer systems. Mere moments after the radar had come up, they had begun to track and target hostile vessels. He looked over Weathers’ shoulder, to see her display bustling full of red, green and white markers. After so long staring at a mass of green, it was good to see the radar back to its normal state, even if it now painted a rather bleak picture. One of the shapes on the radar then drew his attention and he reached down, pointing to a large red triangle that was bringing itself into close proximity with Griffin.

  “This is accurate?” he asked.

  “Completely,” Weathers said.

  “Son of a bitch!” Parks exclaimed, before pointing to what had at one time been believed to be a small United Naval Forces battleship, pulling up next to them. With the radar repaired, the feint was revealed, the battleship clearly in the hands of the Enemy. “Target that ship with both accelerators. Now!” Parks barked.

  His orders were followed through, the two large cannons affixed to the front of the ship quickly powering up and focusing themselves on the incoming threat. A thick, bright green beam of plasma issued from each of them, slamming directly into the front of the approaching vessel. Luminous blue splinters erupted from the points of impact, as the frontal quadrant of the shield collapsed. The beams then began searing the hull of the vessel, lancing their way into the body, the resulting explosions rupturing sections and pulling it apart.

  “Good work, Lieutenant,” Parks congratulated Weathers, as he saw the stricken vessel fall.

  “Commodore—” the still-present holographic image of Meyers started, looking somewhat bemused by Griffin’s sudden actions. The man was tensed, as if preparing to act immediately should Parks round the accelerators against Leviathan. From his point of view, it must have appeared as though Parks had opened fire on a friendly target. Captain Bailey’s expression showed equal concern.

  “Captain; Captain,” Parks began. “We’ve finally managed to repair our radar system. We’re transmitting a fix over to you now.” He signalled to Weathers to proceed and waited for his fellow command to acknowledge the action.

  “Radar is working correctly,” Meyers confirmed.

  “We are also correctly identifying targets,” Bailey said.

  Via the feeds, Parks saw that both Leviathan’s and Talos’ weapons systems appeared to have returned to normal, streams of plasma and lasers chasing after hostile targets. It seemed the sudden revival of the carriers’ weapons systems had caught the enemy forces by surprise, the attacking squadrons’ number more than halving before they could reorganise themselves.

  Shame we can’t transmit a code over to the Pandorans and order them to stand down, Parks thought, bitterly.

  “What did you do?” Bailey asked.

  Parks hesitated. He looked to both Liu and Weathers, still totally flummoxed by what the pair had told him earlier. “Best you read it in a report, Captain,” Parks admitted. “Let’s just be grateful that the issue is resolved.”

  “Understood.”

  “Now, Captain, Captain; please transmit the new radar software to everyone in your fleet, but ensure they hold position for the moment. Lieutenant Weathers, please broadcast the fix to all of Griffin’s starfighters, as well as Erik, William, Ragnar and Ironside.”

  *

  With their numbers falling, the enemy forces that had been attacking the allied line fell back, to rejoin those guarding Mythos.

  Parks felt a smile growing on his face and his shoulders rising as he watched the little blue engines of the Imperial starfighters growing smaller as they sped back towards their allies. That evens things a little, he thought, though he was cautious not to underestimate the Enemy, nor allow this small sense of victory to overcome him.

  In the still that followed, he paused to look over the allied fleet – a number of the starfighters were limping away, tiny trails of gases and other substances venting, wings, fins and other extremities torn and broken, engines not as bright as they should be. The frigates appeared to be suffering nothing more than superficial damage, their armour scorched and burnt, the bulkheads ripped in places. The exteriors of Leviathan and Talos told a similar story.

  Parks turned back to the holographic displays. “Aiden, Jennifer, how are you looking? Have you sustained much damage?”

  “Nothing significant, Commodore,” Meyers answered. “Weapons systems and shielding are all fully operational. Light damage to all quarters, but nothing that will impede us in battle.”

  “Likewise here, Commodore,” Bailey said.

  Parks nodded. He pushed aside thoughts of suggesting the damaged fighter craft return to their parent carriers. He couldn’t afford to take them out of battle, not now. Despite having restored the radar, he knew that the enemy forces still outclassed and outnumbered them. And even though the extra numbers were not significant, combined with the Enemy’s skill in combat, it still created a measured threat. He looked across the gulf, across the veritable no man’s land, to the opposing forces that were now holding their position and appearing to be waiting for the allies to come to them.

  “Very well,” Parks said. “Signal the fleet that we will now be moving in on the offensive.” The acknowledgements came in, frigates and fighter squadron leaders all preparing to action his orders. “Griffin will lead, with William and Ragnar. I want Leviathan, Erik and Ironside to hold the middle ground. Captain Bailey, please position Talos as you see best. The remainder of the fleet should divide themselves between the frontline and the midfield. All clear?”

  Meyers and Bailey acknowledged they were.

  “Mr Liu, take us in.”

  Griffin’s engines came fully online and propelled the ship forward, entering into the no man’s land and towards the waiting opposing forces, with starfighters and frigates following quickly after it.

  With the sudden movement of allied forces, Parks didn’t expect their foes to sit there and watch. On that point, they obliged him well. Halfway across the gulf, the three Confederation warships were met head-on by a wave of Imperial fighters and capital ships, a cascade of fire erupting from both sides.

  Starfighters began to fall on both sides, and whilst Parks knew that a working radar system was now helping the allied forces no end, the Enemy’s skills in combat were still something to be reckoned with. TAFs, Rays and Fireflies weaved and curled around the scene before him, both chasing down and being chased by enemy fighters of all configurations. He watched as a pair of slower-moving Hammerheads loosed off a volley of rockets towards an Imperial battleship, before they each fell to their own attackers.

  We’re going to need to give our bombers a lot more protection, if we’re going to punch a way through this lot any time soon, Parks thought. Griffin’s accelerators had only recently completed their wind down from their last use, and were only now available to be powered up and fired once more. They were powerful weapons, but against numbers like these they were far too slow. Not nearly as quick to cycle as those on the ATAFs.

  And there, too, was an irony. Their best hopes of recovering the ATAFs were the ATAFs themselves. In front of him, the huge rocket volley from the Hammerheads struck an Imperial battleship’s bow, the shield collapsing in a shower of blue shards, before the remaining rockets pounded the hull. They must have been lucky and found their way inside, as the front of the vessel suddenly exploded, the bow ripping clean open before separating from the rest of the ship, as though it had been decapitated. Its course quickly began to deteriorate thereafter. Though he had just seen six service personnel aboard the Hammerheads lose their lives, Parks could at least take solace in the fact that their deaths had not been in vain.

  One down. Several dozen to go.

  His eyes shifted from the d
istressed battleship to the others that dotted the battleground. There was INF Chimera, Hawke likely in the captain’s seat, staring back at him at this very moment. He would take that ship down, even if he didn’t do it today.

  Through the continued flurry of activity, the speeding starfighters, bright hues of engines, and multicoloured energy weapon fire, his gaze fell upon another vessel that still stood menacingly in orbit over their most direct route towards the White Knights and the ATAFs.

  “Now, does anyone have any ideas of how we could get past that dreadnought?” he asked openly of the entire bridge. For the hours that Griffin had been in the system – and presumably for those that Leviathan had been, too – the dreadnought had held its position, unwavering. The captain of that vessel knew their duty well and hadn’t moved an inch, not even to add its weight to the battle that raged so close by. Should they manage to somehow weave their way through the entanglement of exchanged fire, the Confederation vessels would meet their undoing at the hands of that ship. They could risk going around the planet, but there was no telling how many other dreadnoughts would be waiting for them. He didn’t put it past the Pandorans to have several of the almost-impenetrable blocks of steel floating at evenly-spaced orbital intervals. As of now, they needed to use the most direct route.

  He studied the dreadnought again, racking his brain for a solution. They couldn’t get near it, neither under or over it. No, that wouldn’t work – any plan that took them near it would end in disaster.

  Can we blind it, scramble its radar like they did to us? Parks pondered. Maybe we could shut it down, even for just a few minutes? No, the Enemy would be wise to that trick by now. If only there was a way of hitting it where they could hurt it. But that would involve getting around the back of it in the first place. He needed a plan.

  “I have an idea, Captain,” Weathers said.

  “Shoot,” Parks said, not taking his eyes off the battle.

  “Whilst we were attempting to pin down the fault with the radar system, we unintentionally hooked into one of the orbital defence platforms. It looks as though they’re not completely deactivated, sir, just on standby.”