The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy)

by Sweeney, Stephen

  Jenkins went on. “That footage was received from the comm relay points in Alpha Centauri just a few minutes ago. They are on their way. As some of you may know, I’m not one for making speeches; I’m a doer, not a talker. Today, however, some things need to be said.

  “I’ll make no secret that we stand here tonight as the final line of defence against the Pandoran war machine, a military power that we have struggled against for many years. We have lost friends, family, worlds and cultures as they have made their way across the galaxy.

  “Their numbers may be greater than ours, but we have something that will give us strength even in the most uncertain of times, and that is our will and determination to fight on to the bitter end. I reiterate here what you were told in the brief. The Enemy are weakening, no longer capable of commanding the brutal skills and powers that they once did. Though they might still appear as strong as ever, they have shown they are not unstoppable, and our spirit to continue on will enable us to exploit that failing.

  “Prepare to do yourselves proud, do us all proud. Tonight we fight the battle for Sol, for the defence of Earth and for the continuation of humanity. Dragon will be destroyed, the Pandoran army will get no further, and we will win!”

  There was applause as Jenkins concluded, accompanied by cheers and positive cries in various different languages, all feeding in from numerous other open broadcast channels.

  Dodds allowed himself to soak up the speech and what followed, giving himself some time to mentally prepare for the upcoming fight. He then flipped his comms to the private channels, connecting directly to Estelle, Kelly, Chaz and Enrique. “Well, this is it,” he said. “Everyone ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Estelle said. She sounded nervous, but not quite resolved to this being the end. Not yet.

  “We’ve come this far together,” Chaz said. “We owe it to those we’ve left behind to do the best we can.”

  Dodds was pretty sure that the man was referring to Parks with that statement. “Kelly?” he asked.

  “Of course I am,” Kelly said. “As I keep saying, we’re going to win this.”

  Dodds couldn’t help but chuckle. Kelly’s optimism seemed to know no bounds, surpassing even the calm that he felt himself. How had she done it, he wondered? Had she never felt even the slightest shred of doubt? If she had, and if this was nothing but a veil for her true feelings of uncertainty and melancholy, then she was hiding it well. Very well.

  “Enrique?” Dodds prompted, after a moment of silence descended.

  “Aye,” he said. “And even if we don’t stop ‘em, I’m going to take as many of them down as I can. I did my thing. Lost a tooth and broke a rib in the process, but I still got him.”

  Dodds said nothing more and just stared out of his cockpit, to the vast empty space ahead that he knew would soon be filled with thousands upon thousands of starships, all coming for them. He moved to check his ATAF’s systems once more, cycling through screens and systems, when something caught his eye.

  “Hey,” he said across the private channel, “when did they fit that tether thing to my fighter?” He couldn’t remember seeing that before.

  “I don’t have one,” Enrique answered.

  “No,” Chaz added.

  “Just me, then?” Dodds asked.

  “Ah hell,” Estelle then said. “You’re in my fighter, Dodds.”

  He thought something hadn’t been right. Usually they were careful about which fighter they got into, if only to avoid the need to recalibrate the internal systems to their preferred liking and to maintain a particular weapons loadout. In their haste to get onto the field as soon as possible, both Dodds and Estelle must have failed to pay close attention to the one single marking on the fighter, a numeric identifier, indicating which team member the ATAF belonged to. Estelle’s own eagerness to get into position as soon as possible must also have caused her to fail to double-check with the unfamiliar flight deck attendants that they were being directed to the correct craft.

  “I thought my configuration was slightly off,” Dodds said, working through the other systems to ensure no nasty surprises were awaiting him. Only the HUD and power weightings had been largely different from what he was used to, most of the rest of the fighter matching his own setup.

  “Loadout is the same for all of us,” Estelle said, “micro-missiles and two high-yield FAN-5 Magics. Everyone confirm?”

  They did.

  “How do I use this thing?” Dodds asked, looking over the configuration for the tether.

  “I’d disable it, if I were you,” Kelly said. “You don’t want to risk firing that out instead of a missile. It could end badly for you, especially if you latch onto something that is about to go up and you don’t have adequate shielding to defend against it.”

  Dodds agreed and did so, before returning to preparing himself for what was to come. There was sporadic chatter from the main channel as warship captains spoke to one other, ran through scenarios and discussed their strengths and weaknesses. Last-minute changes of position occurred, but the ATAFs and fighter group at the front held their ground. They would be the first to meet the arrival of the enemy.

  “Kelly,” Enrique then said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I thought of what I want to do when this is all over.”

  “What is it?”

  There was a moment of silence from Enrique, then he said, “When this is all over, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Kelly Taylor, will you marry me?”

  There was a chuckle from Kelly. Most likely, Dodds thought, she had perhaps found his choice of thing to do somewhat predictable. Still, at least he was exploring the possibilities.

  “Yes, Enrique, I will,” Kelly said.

  Dodds decided not to keep the news to just their little group, reopening his comms and broadcasting the news to the entire fleet. “All, we’ve just had a marriage proposal up here accepted. Enrique Todd and Kelly Taylor are as of this minute engaged!” The announcement was met by rapturous applause and calls of congratulations. They didn’t feel hollow, either. There was genuine happiness and positive feeling there.

  “Hey, slow down there Dodds,” Enrique said. “This lot will want to come to the wedding, next.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be happy with just popping in for the reception,” Dodds replied.

  “That you’ll host at your orchard.”

  “Sure,” Dodds felt himself smile. “I’ll see if we can whip up some cider …”

  He was cut off from saying anything further by the sound of his console jingling, before a frenzied whine echoed in across the open comms, issuing from the capital ships. He then saw regions of the space ahead begin to twist and distort. It could only mean one thing.

  “Reading multiple jump signatures,” Weathers’ voice came. “Fourteen in final phase, twenty-one initializing transition, and at least another twenty potential spikes.”

  “Brace yourselves, everyone,” Jenkins said, as the first of the whirlpool-like conduits spiralled into existence. “Here they come …”

  XXIII

  — A Destiny Fulfilled —

  There weren’t as many jump points here as there had been during the second phase of Black Widow, but there were still enough to make Dodds’ heart leap into his throat. At first, he had expected there to only be about two dozen or so points. He thought that the enemy would likely optimise their jump sequencing, pushing as many ships through extra large conduits as possible, so that the full strength of the fleet could arrive all at once.

  Then, as he had waited for the impending appearance of the Pandoran force, he had begun to convince himself that many of the battleships, fighters, frigates, carriers and dreadnoughts would float abandoned at Alpha Centauri, imitating the scenes that he had observed in Kethlan. After what Estelle and Kelly had witnessed when evacuating Alpha Centauri, and with the comparative ease with which the team had overcome the invaders on the Elpis, he had thought that many of the ships might fail to make i
t this far.

  Not so.

  The first set of points had opened, three of them, evenly spaced. Then came another six, then what looked to be another ten. Perhaps another ten or so points swirled into existence after them, splitting the fabric of space before the allied line. Even more followed. They may well have totalled thirty or forty at one time, but after that Dodds had lost count. All he knew was that the enemy were apparently unwilling to waste any time in pushing forward their main objective of taking down Earth. Despite his resolve, the sight gave him pause and he found himself momentarily thinking of how fortunate Natalia was not to have to witness this. He wondered, however, if she was there somewhere on the station listening to it.

  Jenkins gave the order for the frontline fighter group to break and attack the enemy, and the White Knights charged forward immediately, racing ahead of the pack with the speed that the ATAFs granted them, crossing many tens of kilometres in seconds.

  What followed seemed to occur in slow motion, both sides moving towards one another, almost in silence. The starfighters on both sides headed up the packs, closing the gap rapidly. Even so, they possessed short-range weapons systems only, their missiles not yet able to lock at this distance. Dodds watched the distances collapse, his radar system flicking between targets as one craft overtook another, almost vying for the pride of place of being the first his computer systems singled out and settled upon.

  When the first shot was loosed it came not from a cannon or a missile lock, but from an unguided rocket, seemingly fired blind from one of the allied starfighters behind Dodds, into the huge pack of approaching enemy fighters. He saw the rocket shoot past him, missing the foremost Imperial fighters and striking a target somewhere further in, taking down the ship in a single hit.

  After that, guns on both sides opened up.

  A torrent of multicoloured light burst forth, for an instant crossing at the point where the two approaching starfighter groups would ultimately meet. It was impossible for Dodds to say who incurred the most casualties in those first few seconds, as he saw a number of explosions ahead of him and knew that many more were occurring behind him. His computer system both jingled and whined at him at the same time, notifying him of the missile lock that he had gained on his first opponent, and similarly warning him of the multiple locks that had been acquired against him. He reacted only to the warning, taking instant evasive manoeuvres, activating his countermeasures and darting up and over the group of Thunderheads that had met him. The ATAF might still be the most powerful fighter in existence, even after all these years, but even it had its limits. A deluge of missiles and plasma cannon fire would be enough to push its shields well into the danger threshold, as he remembered only too well. He saw Estelle, Enrique, Kelly and Chaz peel off, separating out and going after their own targets. Once able to visually identify them due to the formation they had held, he now quickly lost them in the ensuing scrum.

  Something then struck the squadron of allied fighter craft that were following up behind him, an explosion of immense power, wiping out many of the friendly green markers that had been visible on his radar. It may well have been a nuke, though he thought that the enemy’s stock had run dry many years ago. Perhaps not having enough for a full planetary strike, they had stored up what remained of the warheads in anticipation of this final assault. Whatever it had been, he knew he should make sure he wasn’t in the vicinity if any more were loosed. He evaded again, steeling himself and preparing to engage his first adversary.

  His radar became near useless to him soon after that, so full of markers that it was now just a mess of coloured noise. It was something that he had grown used to over the years, and right now he didn’t need it – he need only make use of the predictive targeting matrix on his HUD, chasing the location indicator to hunt down his target. Plasma, laser and particle bolts were flying everywhere, missiles curling in between them. They did little to distract him and before long he brought down his first target, a Mantis that had been following behind the Thunderheads.

  One down, tens of thousands to go.

  His second opponent fell quickly after that, the targeting matrix instantly switching to the next nearest enemy fighter. He started immediately after the third, who managed to evade his initial volley of fire, Dodds too close to it during the commencement of the engagement to fully exploit the fighter’s anticipated position. He slowed, rolled, realigned and brought it down not five seconds later.

  Next up were a group of Khepri, an enhanced derivative of the Imperial Scarab bombers, acquired by the enemy from an Independent world. He sprayed the four as he raced towards them, seeing his systems confirm their destruction as he did so. They detonated far more forcefully than he might have expected, his shield taking a hit as he passed them. They must have been packing something heavy. He couldn’t be certain, but thought that an enemy Firefly that had been close by had been taken down in the bombers’ wake. He made a mental note to keep his distance from any Khepri in future.

  Total elapsed time, less than a minute since the Pandorans had put in their appearance. He got the feeling that this was going to be a very quick battle. Enemy tactics seemed to have been thrown mostly out the window and they were simply going to attempt to bulldozer the allies through sheer strength of numbers; losses be damned – when you possessed the strength of this force you could well afford a high level of attrition. It was clear that the allies were outnumbered a good five or six to one, if not more. Jump points seemed still to be forming, capital ships and escorts issuing from the portals and racing to join those that were closing in on the allied forces’ line, the orbital platforms and stations, and Earth.

  As he downed his next opponent, banking hard to evade the shower of plasma fire that had followed from its partner, Dodds saw one of the smaller UNF frigates go up as its short-lived participation in the battle came to an end, an accelerator beam from an Imperial warship slicing it apart.

  It became clear that if the enemy could maintain this pace that the frontline was going to collapse very quickly, far faster than had been anticipated. Dodds caught himself unable to decide what to tackle first, the fighters or the warships. Both posed as big a threat to the defence of the planet as the other. But after only a momentary pause, he chose to concentrate on the fighters. The same rules applied as always – warships still looked to fighters to defend them. Take down the fighters and the warships would follow in due course, even if there were hundreds of them still arriving.

  *

  Sima Mandeep toyed with the ring that hung around her neck. Parks would’ve wanted her to stay here, keeping Amarok at the back, safe and out of the way. But then, he also knew that she wasn’t the kind of person to do that. She studied the field for a moment, seeing four frigates barging their way through the frontline starfighters, opening fire on the larger allied craft that were falling far too fast. Behind them, Imperial dreadnoughts, cruisers and starfighters followed. They were clearly the pathfinders, the ones making the biggest effort to open a route to Earth, divide the allies and create safe passage for Dragon to deliver its killing blow.

  Not on her watch.

  “Take us forward,” she ordered the helmsman.

  “Captain?” the woman said.

  “Take us forward, Commander,” Mandeep repeated her instruction to abandon their defensive position.

  “How close?”

  Mandeep clutched the ring tight. “Right down their throats.”

  *

  The points had stopped forming now, Dodds saw – not that the enemy needed any further assistance. The size of their numbers was already crushing. This was indeed the full strength of the Pandoran fleet; they’d left nothing behind. He continued striking down their units as best he could, eyeing the capital ships further up the field. They were increasing their speed, pushing the wall forward.

  Still, they weren’t fighting back as hard as he remembered. Punching through a mixed-class group of enemy fighters, his defences taking a beating as he did so
, he discovered himself to be the furthest out of the allied fighter craft on the field. Ahead of him was one of the smaller enemy battleships, its speed allowing it to slip ahead of the others. Instinctively he brought the ATAF’s accelerator online, targeting the vessel, trimming his velocity and sweeping the beam twice across the topside. The first sweep was enough to cut down the shielding, the second ripping the hull open and exposing the interior. All this he did within just a few seconds, habit and experience taking over. He peppered the craft with cannon fire to finish the job, before flipping around and falling back to the main defence line.

  He saw Amarok open up her cannons as he returned, concentrating a tremendous amount of fire on a group of four frigates that were powering up the field. Rockets and torpedoes followed, two accelerator beams belching out to join them for good measure. One of the frigates was complete destroyed in the assault, falling to the torpedoes, the second heading that way fast. The third and fourth were crippled, their running lights extinguishing and their courses starting to list. Mandeep had clearly grown tired of sitting on her hands at the back. Second line defence wasn’t a role that he could say the woman would’ve been proud to perform, and neither would Parks.

  Dodds found a momentary lull in the chaos, and took the few seconds’ reprieve to take in the scene and standings. There was a great deal of debris littering the area already, mostly wreckage from starfighters and bombers. He caught sight of a large structure drifting close by, clearly the remains of a capital ship. He couldn’t be sure whether it had belonged to their side or the enemy’s. Most likely, it was one of theirs. The enemy were apparently favouring the opposite route to victory that he was, concentrating on taking down the allies’ capital ships. He became grateful for the ODPs, firing from the back row. Even so, he could see that the line that the allies had sought to hold was being eroded at a rapid pace. The targeting matrix in his HUD grabbed his eye at the same time as his system chirped, and he returned to the task at hand.