Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight

by Gibbs, Daniel

  David took in the situation, looking above his chair at the CO’s display. Noting that all systems were normal, he turned his attention to Ruth. “TAO, report.”

  Ruth peered at her monitors. “LIDAR sensors coming online, sir.” The first seconds after emergence from FTL were the most nerve-racking as the detection systems reset. Blips appeared on the screens in front of her. “Six Lancer-class frigates designated Master One through Six, Four Cobra-class destroyers designated Master Seven through Ten. Multiple transports designated Sierra One through Seven, sir. They’re not moving.” She didn’t bother reading out the Coalition ships, led by Dyson’s vessel, the CSV Dutiful.

  David nodded. Four Cobra-class destroyers and six Lancer-class frigates from the League weren’t bad odds for the Coalition force assembled. The Cobra was an older destroyer that the League deployed en masse. Two of them alone were no match for the newest Ajax-class destroyers, and Lancer-class frigates were even less capable against superior Coalition technology. “TAO, range of closest enemy vessel?”

  Ruth’s eyes never left her displays. “Master One and Two, sir. Range six thousand kilometers.” In CDF nomenclature, Master denoted a hostile contact—a target.

  “Navigation, plot intercept course.”

  “Intercept course, aye, aye sir.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams and magnetic cannons, Master One and Master Two.”

  “Firing solutions set, sir.”

  David sat back slightly. Fighting to keep his adrenaline in check, he viewed his plot one more time. “TAO, shoot, neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

  The Rabin’s engines fired brightly, accelerating toward her targets. The two League Lancer-class frigates turned to face their new foe. A full salvo of magnetic-cannon projectiles erupted from the Rabin’s forward dorsal and ventral mag-cannon turrets and raced toward her opponents, followed by a burst from her neutron-beam emitters. Hits sent ripples across the shielding of both targets. A bright flare came from the second Lancer when the barrage successfully battered down its protective screens.

  “Conn, TAO. Master One shields are now at thirty percent,” Ruth said. “Master Two shields have failed.”

  David acknowledged her statement with a nod. “Navigation, come about and present our forward arc to Master Two. TAO, firing point procedures, forward missile cells and magnetic cannons, Master Two.”

  “Firing solutions set, sir.”

  “TAO, shoot, forward missile cells and magnetic cannons.”

  The Rabin turned sharply and brought her turreted mag-cannons to bear on the enemy vessel. Missiles erupted from her forward missile cells mounted both to port and starboard along the ship’s bow and accelerated toward the League frigate. Another salvo from her forward dorsal-mounted mag-cannons quickly followed. Explosions ripped across the surface of the Lancer, blowing away the small vessel’s stern. On his tactical viewer, David watched as the enemy ship’s speed decreased rapidly until it was drifting in space.

  Ruth’s reaction was measured and professional. “Conn, TAO. Master Two disabled, sir.” Then she seemed to notice something on her screen. “Master One coming about, sir. She’s firing.”

  The other Lancer, seeing her sister’s destruction, came from above and let loose with her own weapons complement—primarily missiles and plasma cannons—on the Rabin. The ship shook from the strain on her deflectors.

  “Conn, TAO. Aft shields at sixty percent. Aft point defense has lost one turret. Master One is taking up a position directly behind us.”

  David gave no outward reaction. The enemy had taken a risk with that maneuver, but trying to hide from the Rabin’s bow weaponry by moving along her stern would backfire for them. “TAO, firing point procedures, ready four fusion mines.”

  Ruth immediately armed the mines and prepared to launch. “Launch solution set, sir.”

  David peered intently at his plot to be sure it was the right time to deploy. “TAO, shoot, fusion mines.”

  From the rear of the Rabin, the disc-shaped mines dropped like depth charges of an old Earth wet navy. The helmsman on the doomed Lancer had apparently been following too closely, as the ship’s last-second course change was too slow to avoid explosive devices.

  The first struck the Lancer’s forward shield, and the resulting explosion caused the shield to fail for several seconds, letting the other three mines pass through unharmed to smack against the vessel’s thinly armored hull. The fusion warheads detonated, and in a blinding flash, they produced a massive burst of energy that ripped into and melted through the frigate.

  Each mine in succession produced an enormous explosion until the third’s self-immolation claimed the Lancer’s primary missile magazine, detonating its volatile projectiles. A process feared by all crews began as the ship blew itself apart from the inside out. The resulting debris was no larger than half-meter chunks.

  “Conn, TAO. Master One destroyed, sir. No escape pods detected.”

  The shocking loss of life caused by David’s orders washed over him. He hated that about war. No matter how often they tried to take prisoners over outright destruction of League ships, sometimes the ships simply blew up. He set that aside quickly and asked calmly, “TAO, target report?”

  “Conn, TAO. Master One, Two, Four, and Seven neutralized. Remaining enemy ships are grouping together around Sierra contacts.” She moved closer, apparently alarmed by a ghostly sensor reading. “Aspect change, sir. I’m showing another wormhole transit, League signature. Unknown contact inbound.”

  A short distance away from the fight, a new wormhole ripped through space and time. The ship that emerged was larger than any other nearby, prominently displaying the foreboding insignia of the League of Sol.

  David gulped. He didn’t need to hear Ruth’s report to know what it was.

  “Conn, TAO. New contact designated Master Eleven, classified as a Rand-class cruiser.”

  The monstrous Rand raced toward the battle like a one-hundred-fifty-kilo linebacker rushing the pint-sized chess club’s brawl. Clearly a superior combatant, it tilted the battle heavily in the League’s favor.

  David restrained the fear twisting his stomach. Not a single ship present was a match for a Rand. Even if they fought together, it might be impossible. “Comms, signal the Dutiful. Request immediate instructions.”

  Before the answer came, the Rand’s heavy weaponry thundered in the darkness and ripped apart a small Meade-class frigate—the CSV Fredericksham. The vessel and its crew were brushed aside like an annoying insect.

  The cruiser turned to bring some of its weapons to bear upon the Dutiful. Dyson’s ship took the hit on its dorsal side. Explosions tore through the destroyer’s hull, and the ship’s engines died, leaving it crippled for the Rand to dispatch at her convenience.

  Fear covered Ruth’s face as she turned toward David. “Conn, TAO. Dutiful disabled, and Fredericksham has been destroyed.”

  David forced himself to stop and think, despite the urgency of the situation, and not allow the enemy to compromise his OODA—observe, orient, decide, act—loop. While two Ajax-class destroyers and three Meade-class frigates might take on a Rand-class cruiser and win, with one destroyer out of the fight and a frigate destroyed, the battle was shaping up to be hopeless. Were it not for the transports, he would’ve ordered a general retreat, but he couldn’t bear to leave the thousands of civilians in them to be sent back to League space as slaves. We swore an oath to protect those people at any cost—including our lives—if necessary.

  “TAO, status of Sierra contacts?”

  “They’re still immobile, sir.”

  “XO, intercept course on the Rand!” David barked, his mind made up. “Take us directly over Master Eleven and stand by to execute a ninety-degree ventral turn on my mark.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures. Load all remaining fusion mines into the aft dispenser. Set time delay to four seconds.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

&
nbsp; David punched the button on his chair for the intercom to engineering. “Hanson, reroute all available power to the shields and evacuate all personnel from the outer decks.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Hanson said, his voice crackling through the speaker.

  If Sheila were in her usual seat, she would lean in and ask him precisely what the plan was. Sorry, old friend. Can’t explain it to you. You’ll just have to trust me.

  The Rabin accelerated toward the Rand, and the League cruiser swatted at the Rabin with its high-energy directed particle cannons, striking them head-on. The ship rumbled, and energy feedback from the shield system caused the sensor station to blow its fuse.

  “Conn, TAO. Forward shields near collapse, sir,”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, target neutron beams, magnetic cannons, and forward missile cells on Master Eleven.”

  “Firing solutions set, sir.”

  David had no illusions about the effectiveness of his ship’s weapons against the Rand. Maybe we can just keep them guessing a few seconds longer. That’s all I need.

  “TAO, shoot, all weapons. XO, execute immediate evasive action without compromising our time to target.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” Sheila replied.

  She began an evasive pattern immediately. The Rabin’s slight zigzag caused a missile barrage to miss. The enemy weapons were unable to track effectively at close range. Then the cruiser’s particle cannons hit home once more, despite her maneuvering. The first strike caused a brief flare along the Rabin’s forward shields, successfully overloading them, while the second cut right through the armor, piercing the vessel’s bow. Debris and bodies erupted from the holes cut into the ship. Meanwhile, the Rabin lashed back at the Rand with its weapons suite, obtaining multiple hits against its deflectors but not causing any real damage.

  The feedback from the shield system being overloaded was even nastier than before. One of the secondary consoles caught fire before the bridge’s attentive damage-control team extinguished the blaze.

  Over the clamor, Ruth bellowed, “Conn, TAO! Forward shields failed, sir. Forward hull and systems severely damaged.”

  “Conn, Navigation. We’re ten seconds from executing the turn, sir.”

  “Navigation, steady as she goes. TAO, firing point procedures, aft mine dispenser. Stand by to release on my mark,” David said. I’m in the zone.

  The destroyer continued forward. On his tactical plot, David watched as the icons for the two ships merged. Apparently, the Rand’s bridge crew assumed the worst—that the Rabin would ram them. Real-time sensor information showed the heavy cruiser’s shields diverting to a different arc—where perhaps they thought the Rabin would hit.

  Gotcha. “Navigation, now. TAO, shoot, aft mine dispenser.”

  As soon as “now” left David’s mouth, Sheila banked the ship upward, pulling away from the Rand. As the maneuver was completed, eight mines popped out of the aft dispenser, thrown directly onto the Rand’s tough hull. As the four critical seconds counted down, the Rabin’s engines accelerated once more, thrusting the small destroyer away from her massive foe.

  At the fourth second, the mines detonated successfully. The explosion they produced was colossal, tearing away armored hull and internal structure alike and engulfing the upper hull of the Rand in energy. Secondary explosions from lost magazines and a fuel bunker for the cruiser’s shuttles tore up the top quarter of the ship’s structure, doing massive internal damage.

  “Conn, TAO. All mines impacted, sir.” Ruth’s voice had dropped to normal volume. “Master Eleven is attempting to jump out.”

  Sheila shook her head. “They’ll never make it,” she said in a brief departure from standard bridge protocol.

  Unexpectedly wounded by a foe inferior to her strength, the dying Rand turned away from the battle, and her wormhole drive began to power up. As it reached its full charge, the stress on the ship’s damaged systems became too great. Plasma tanks ruptured from structural damage, the overloaded power systems failed, and a catastrophic series of explosions gutted the hapless monster. The ship’s massive left engine wrenched free from the ship in an explosion that tore apart the Rand from the inside out, turning the deadly beast into an expanding cloud of debris.

  The Rabin’s bridge crew didn’t stop to enjoy their great kill.

  David was all business as he asked Ruth, “TAO, status on the remaining hostile contacts?”

  “Sir, Master Eight remains operational. It’s heading straight for the transports and is firing on Sierra Four.”

  David swore under his breath, disgusted with the League’s actions. Not content to simply take a loss and retreat, they had to spoil the well by killing thousands of civilians. “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Eight. Anything we’ve got left.”

  The speaker on David’s chair crackled. “Conn, Engineering. This is Hanson. We’ve got casualties down here, and I’m unable to route power to any forward weapons systems except the magnetic-cannon turrets.”

  David digested that and turned to Ruth. “TAO, can we disable Master Eight with only our magnetic cannons in time to prevent them from taking out those transports?”

  “Unlikely, sir. Master Eight has taken limited fire in the engagement so far. Its shields are at nearly one hundred percent effectiveness.”

  David peered at his command plot. With the other CDF ships out of the fight, his options were limited. I could engage with conventional weapons. Maybe Hanson will pull a rabbit out of his hat and get us something else. With full shields, though… that frigate could take out at least one transport before we could neutralize her. With tens of thousands of lives hanging in the balance, he felt his mind freeze, a tug of war breaking out between protocol and emotion.

  Controlled ramming. That’s the only option left. “Navigation, plot intercept course with Master Eight. All ahead flank. I want you to ram the contact.”

  Sheila whirled around. “Say again, sir?”

  “I said ram Master Eight, XO. Try to glance the belly of our ship off their dorsal midsection.”

  Sheila continued to stare at him. “With all due respect, sir, our bow is severely damaged, and we may not survive the impact.”

  “And if we don’t neutralize that ship, it will kill all the civilians aboard those transports. We knew what the score was when we signed up for this job. They didn’t. We’ll do anything we can, including giving our lives to save them,” David said calmly, despite the chaos around him. I know that’s the right call. It’s right there in article one of the CDF code of conduct. I will give my life if necessary to defend the Terran Coalition and the civilians I protect.

  Sheila turned back around. “Aye, aye, sir.” Her tone held concern.

  David punched a button on his console, pulling up the 1MC. “Attention, all hands. This is the commanding officer. Prepare for in-space collision. Evacuate the outer hull immediately and erect localized emergency force fields.”

  David glanced back at a tall, older enlisted man. “Master Chief, sound collision alarm.”

  “Sound collision alarm. Aye, sir,” he replied, and immediately, a klaxon wailed.

  The Rabin closed in quickly on the Lancer. Its crew rather ineffectively attempted to evade. The two ships traded weapons fire at the last moment, but the Rabin’s weaponry wasn’t able to penetrate the shields of the smaller League ship. As the Rabin entered its terminal course, Sheila angled the Rabin’s bow in such a way that the less damaged section would impact the frigate’s command deck.

  The Rabin’s bow plowed into the command-deck of the smaller frigate, crumpling the underbelly of the ship and venting atmosphere into space. Small explosions occurred up and down the dorsal section of the Lancer and ventral section of the Rabin. Pieces of debris and super structure expanded from both ships, small fires erupting as blisters on the hull before extinguishing from lack of oxygen in the vacuum. As the Rabin veered away, the Lancer’s running lights flickered, and it began to drift.

  The Rabin’s bridge crew ha
d survived, but the ship had suffered considerable damage. Another small fire broke out in the back but was quickly extinguished by the assigned bridge damage-control team.

  David pressed the communication button on his command chair for the engineering spaces. “Engineering, status?” he asked, hoping the ship was still combat capable.

  Hanson’s voice came through the speaker. “Sir, I’ve had to SCRAM our main reactor. We’re running on battery power. I hope to be able to restore our reactor once we can repair the damaged coolant lines.”

  David laid his head back on the headrest. “Understood. Keep me apprised.”

  “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, multiple inbound wormholes.”

  David leaned forward. Dear God, we can’t take any more. “TAO, whose are they?” he asked, forcing calm into his voice.

  Ruth’s expression changed into a smile of relief. “Sir, inbound wormholes have a CDF signature.”

  In front of the Rabin, three wormholes opened, and out of each emerged a large CDF warship and its consorts. Small craft quickly released from the ships, heading toward the transports.

  Ruth looked back at David. “I’m reading the CSV Cicero and its battle group, sir.”

  David finally allowed himself to relax just a hair. “Acknowledged, TAO. Communications, please send the commanding officer of the Cicero my compliments and request that they send additional damage-control and medical teams to all stricken vessels.”

  * * *

  “Grab a sandwich before you sit down, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t believe any of us have had the opportunity to eat in the last sixteen hours since the engagement,” David said.

  He and the rest of the senior command staff were seated in the conference room aboard the Rabin. Even there, ample evidence showed the battle they’d just survived. Debris from the ceiling lay piled against the bulkheads, and the holoprojector system was offline.

  Hanson grabbed one of the sandwiches and ripped into it with gusto. “Thanks for having these brought up, sir. I’m not sure I’ve been this worn out since nuclear engineering school.”