Hell's Razer

by S. F. Edwards

  “So, you haven’t told her yet?”

  Arion shook his head. “I don’t know if she has clearance. Even then, I’m reluctant.”

  “I understand. Are you scared of how she’ll react?”

  Arion stopped, looked away and remained silent for a long moment. “Scared, no, worried that she won’t forgive me, yes.” Arion stared off into space for another long moment, then sat back, his shoulders slumping. “I’m still not fine with what happened. I’ve been able to move on. But, if I lose her again, if I lose the real Alieha, then, I don’t know…”

  Blazer stopped, sat next to his friend and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I know. I get it.” Now Blazer’s stomach grumbled and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Arion tried to keep in the laugh but failed. “That kid is rubbing off on you.”

  “Yeah. Let’s grab some breakfast before the briefing.”

  Briefing Room 3: Primary Hull, UCSBS-Wolfsbane

  The Wolfsbane was unlike any other ship Blazer had been on. A dedicated warship, it featured heavy compartmentalized, and he loved it. Where the Recreation deck and the hangar had been large open affairs, the rest of the ship was a model of compartmentalization. Every space was able to be sealed and each section had dedicated emergency atmosphere and power generators. The briefing rooms proved no different. With the full squadron assembled, the room felt beyond cramped, as they had just enough room to sit and listen, especially the Tomeris. Even the briefing space at the front of the room was just twice an aisle-way wide.

  Gokhead had acted like a tour guide since breakfast, explaining the ship’s layout and systems. His last assignment before the academy had been aboard the Trib’Kibal, the Wolfsbane’s sister ship. “Ship wide briefings are all conducted from the bridge and transmitted to briefing rooms like these, or other work spaces.”

  Bichard seemed more interested in that idea than most. “I heard others say something similar. So what are the chances that the Captain will actually brief us on the operation?”

  The door opened and Arion jumped to his feet as Captain Sardenon strode in. In the light of the briefing room, his skin looked only a few shades darker than the weathered brown bomber jacket he wore over his fleet blue jumpsuit. Tadeh Qudas trailed behind him. “Attention on deck!”

  The whole squadron jumped up to their feet as their squadron commander and the Captain walked over to the podium.

  The Captain looked over the squadron. The greying around his temples accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes. Blazer knew that look. The man had experienced more than his fair share. Able to see his beat-up old jacket more clearly, Blazer noted eight different squadron patches with nearly that many dozen capital ship kills. “Seats,” he called in a deep tenor.

  The squadron sat back down, the lights dimmed, and the screen in the wall sprang to life.

  “I’ll make this quick, but felt that due to your short notice transfer that I should do this in person.”

  Blazer appreciated that. His limited contact with the Commander of Cathedral Seven had all been via vidlink and stitches after he’d reported in.

  A map of the galaxy appeared on the screen, then zoomed in towards the local quarter of space encompassing the Atria-Stria Spiral and the Consign Spur. Colored highlights emerged all over the map. The two most prominent highlights encompassed Confederation- and Galactic Federation-controlled systems. For the most part, Confed territory was within the Atria-Stria Spiral, and Galactic Federation in the Consign Spur. This made sense to Blazer given that few systems existed in the gap between them. Even then, the systems had limited accessibility via hyperspace given that many had remained uncharted. Near where the Consign Spur broke from the Atria Stria Spiral, colors intermingled.

  Due to the ever-shifting nature of hyperspace, it was easy for either side to control systems deep in what would otherwise be considered hostile territory. This had allowed the Galactic Federation to launch multiple assaults into Confed-held systems surrounded by Galactic Federation-controlled space via normal space. The ships used in those assaults would travel near the speed of light via slipstream in order to cross distances of no more than three light-annura. In at least three cases Blazer had read about, the Galactic Federation had discovered the jump codes to a targeted system while the assault group was in transit.

  Then there was the Amino Acid divide. For reasons that few even cared to guess, the majority of species within the Consign Spur had amino acids opposite to those of the species in the Atria-Stria Spiral. There was a virtual, convoluted wall that had formed between the two territories as a result. That wall still nearly matched with the two superpowers’ territorial boundaries. The lack of accessible proteins had not deterred the Galactic Federation’s wish to fight for expansion into the Atria-Stria Spiral however.

  “Aside from a few small incursions and other attacks that we cannot definitely attribute to the Galactic Federation, things have remained relatively quiet on the warfront since the end of the Gorvian Conflict,” the Captain began. A purple and green cluster of stars that marked Gorvian and Synthetic Sentient Space near the border brightened. “Both sides have been recovering from losses taken there. Even our taskforce just came out of layup for that. No one expected the peace to last long but intelligence thought we had more time.

  “Approximately three tridecs ago, the Galactic Federation began to launch a series of small offenses all across the border. The Confederation responded to each attack. This allowed us to capture or retake several systems. But it left our forces spread thin and their true objective under-defended.”

  The image shifted, zooming in on a single system well within Confederation territory. Blazer mulled over that information: much of that had been left out of the intel reports he’d read. Taking a system was something a single taskforce could do, but holding a system was a different matter. It sometimes required whole fleet groups to establish control and root out any potential hidden hostiles. He’d seen numerous taskforces pass through Cathedral station in the last couple tridecs. The pieces suddenly fell into place.

  “This is the Dralin System. The system is a trash heap, let me make that plain. None of the planets are habitable, orbiting far too close to their stars and local gas giants. It is, however, one of the richest systems known when it comes to naturally-occurring silicasteel.” Numerous still frames of volcanos as well as crystalline boulders and asteroids appeared. “We had no idea that the Galactic Federation even knew of the system’s existence, let alone that they’d acquired the jump codes.”

  “Sir,” Gokhead raised a hand. “No offense, but why do we care? It’s silicasteel. We churn out tons of silicasteel in factories every cycle?”

  “At much greater cost than when we simply collect and refine it, Officer Gokhead.” Captain Sardenon countered. “We also want to hold the system because we know that Galactic Federation production of shaped silicasteel is far more costly to them. Should they take control of a ready supply it significantly increases their fighter and munitions production. We are more concerned with denying them access than our own need.”

  Captain Sardenon turned to motion to the screen as a replay from a defensive satellite began to play back. “The attack came without warning over a decle ago. Six full carrier battlegroups attacked through two different jump points. The first set of battlegroups appeared to launch out of the Galactic Federation’s Beta Post. The second group is comprised of battlegroups that homeport out of Gamma and Theta Posts. This level of attack is unprecedented.”

  Blazer studied the screen as a flurry of ships emerged through the jump point. Whole squadrons of fighters launched like a swarm of angry buzzers from the decks of multiple carriers and cruisers. Flashes of explosions lit up the screen as the taskforce engaged the other defensive satellites and token defensive forces. A blur streaked towards the camera. The image froze to reveal a Galactic Federation Tigercat and the pilot within before it faded away.

  “The Galactic Federation had the system within six hectap
ulses. It took Confed four cycles to muster our forces and reach the system due to unfavorable hyperspace drift. By that time the Galactic Federation had established numerous defensives zones around the jump points and strategic volumes of space. The timing of this has everyone on edge.”

  A convoluted map appeared that only Blazer’s time in the Navigator’s Guild allowed him to recognize: a Hyperspace drift chart. The ever-changing map documented the drifting of hyperspace jump points since the beginning of the annura. It all looked beyond random to him, just like it did all those annura ago when he used to try and find some pattern to it. Several jump points highlighted; those to the Dralin System, and those leading to the Galactic Federation Beta and Theta Posts and more to Confed systems that could deploy forces to assist.

  Blazer sat up when he saw it happen. The jump points to Beta and Theta Posts seemed to flow directly onto those into Dralin while almost every other Confed jump points moved away at high speed. Movements like that were not uncommon in hyperspace, but the timing seemed impossible. The jump point confluence took place over a period of only a few hects. That was not near enough time to mobilize such a large force.

  “There’s no way that those taskforces just happened to coincidentally be ready to mobilize just in time for those jump points to move into such opportune positions. This, along with other recent attacks, has convinced High Command that the Galactic Federation have made a major breakthrough in predicting hyperspace drift.”

  Opening the briefing room to space wouldn’t have sucked the air out faster than that statement had. Blazer turned to Gokhead. The Drashig scientist sat wide-eyed, mouth open at the news. The lights on the side of his head were a flurry of activity - even Que Dee had been caught unawares.

  “Exactly. Confed now has seven carrier battlegroups en-route to Dralin with orders to retake the system and deny the Galactic Federation access to the resources therein. They’re being led by Admiral Rhydwen aboard his flagship, the Trib’Kibal.”

  Trevis raised a hand. “Sir, be we joining that assault?”

  “Negative,” the captain responded. The image shifted back to the map of local space over a hundred light-annura away, a dozen systems highlighted. “We’re here, The Vashko Cluster. We’re keeping to a standard defensive patrol, jumping between systems. We’re responsible for responding to any and all enemy incursions. These systems are of extreme strategic importance. They have rich mining resources and massive jump points that not only maintain orbits around each other in hyperspace, but jump points to key Confed systems.” A second schematic revealed the orbital hyperspace paths of the subject jump points. The names of several systems appeared. “Even without jump codes the Geffers could stumble right into Drash, Lodrus, Gentorinal, and the Fraish Nebula.”

  “Hot damn” Matt blurted out.

  “Exactly.”

  The Captain took a moment to take a drink and clear his throat. Blazer couldn’t help but think that there was something more to this. “Sir. What aren’t you telling us?”

  The captain smiled just a little. “Burying the lead, old habit.” Images of ten different Galactic Federation carriers appeared. Four were massive Barker class fleet carriers, the Galactic Federation’s primary siege machine.

  They were impressive ships, Blazer had to admit. The twin bowed ships easily out massed even the Tacit class. Their four external runways ran half the length of the upper surface, terminating at the boxy hangar complex that dominated the rear of the ship, the head of their signature T-Bar engine arrays hanging off the rear. Like most GF ships, the carrier featured a tall bridge tower, this one extending well above the hangar complex. Over a dozen fighter launch tubes marked the front of the hangar complex and flanking it were pairs of fighter-scale landing bays, with larger landing decks to the rear for bombers and larger craft. The ships bristled with weapons, from small point defense cannons to massive hyperplasers. Beneath and between the twin bows waited the carrier’s primary siege weapons, a pair of spine-mounted high energy Razer cannons, each of which could destroy a capital ship with one solid hit.

  Just one of those ships even without its escorts could take and hold a planet. The specialized craft were capable of landing on water oceans, something otherwise unheard of in a ship of its size. Two more were Carpenter class carriers, the smaller, older brother of the Barker. They could also operate within an atmosphere but were not capable of taking back off from a surface without support. The remaining four were smaller Mitchell class escort carriers. The squadron were familiar with the type, their full-length internal flight decks an oddity to any carrier design. “The four Barkers were the Lucifer, Hades, Beelzebub, and the Patton. Do you see the issue?”

  “The Satan not be with them,” Trevis commented, his face drained of color.

  Blazer swallowed hard at that news. Devil Group was the Galactic Federation’s crack carrier assault force when it came to capturing a Confederation system. The Satan itself was the first of the Barker Class carriers, and was 50% wider than any of the others. The ship’s third bow and a distinctive red and black mottled paint scheme were duwn terror inspiring. The carrier had been absent during the Gorvian conflict, undergoing refit, or so the Galactic Federation had said. Blazer looked over at Matt, his face intent. The last time that the Satan had disappeared from Devil group was when it had come under the command of Admiral Hackeron. Under his command, he’d taken it deep into Confederation territory, sowing terror and confusion.

  Tadeh Qudas stepped up and an image of the fearsome carrier appeared. “The GFS Barker,” he began with the ship’s official designation. The ship had taken its nickname for not only its prowess in battle, but the call-sign under which Admiral Barker, for whom the carrier had been named, flew. “You can see the obvious size and design differences between the GFS Barker and the standard Barker class carrier. Along with its three rapid cooling Razer Cannons, which allows it to cycle in half the time of a standard Razer Cannon, it carries more fighters than any craft in known space.

  “Intelligence believes that the Barker is on a mission akin to Hackeron’s Gambit four annura ago. We all know how that turned out.”

  Blazer looked over at Matt as he wrung his hands together, murder in his eyes. “Ferelias,” he let slip. “We can’t let that happen again.”

  “That is exactly our intention Officer Talkerna.” The captain looked at the hologram and seemed to shiver. “I’ve seen the Satan in action before, took a pot-shot at her once. I barely scratched its shields. I wasn’t in command the last time the Satan caused trouble, but if it makes transition through the Vashko Cluster we’ll be there to stop them.”

  Tadeh Qudas nodded to that. “Accordingly, we will act as the shipboard rescue and capture teams while also providing fighter patrol support. The remainder of our equipment and fighter craft are transferring over as we speak. I want a full systems and equipment checkout - report to me before end of shift. Captain…”

  “Thank you, Commander. You have your orders for the cycle. You’ll be added to the patrol roster once all your strike craft are checked out and cleared for flight. Oh, one last thing. Before the rumor grind whispers it in your ears. Yes, the Wolfsbane has been assigned a number of experimental Particle Duct Engines for testing.”

  Gavit and several others perked up at that news.

  “Let me stress that these are still experimental but, due to some advancements, their designers believe them to be ready for field trials. Once they’ve passed those tests we have fabrication kits for our onboard factories and can begin conversion of specific strike craft. If there’s nothing else...”

  Blazer liked the sound of that. While power hungry, the PDE was a remarkable piece of technology. If the drives proved reliable, they could all but replace the reaction mass-consuming plasma drives that powered the fighter fleet. To the best of his knowledge, these first-generation gravity drives were only used on torpedoes, like their Sharks. The acceleration coils that propelled them were notorious for their proclivity to collapse an
d cascade failures. Outside of that they saw limited use on atmospheric craft. There, they acted like an old-tech ducted fan or jet engine, passing atmospheric gasses through an accelerator ring. A functional space useable PDE would be a true game-changer in the war.

  Gavit’s hand shot up. “Sir, where are we on the schedule to receive the engines?”

  “Yours is the newest squadron aboard. Where do you think?”

  Gavit’s shoulders slumped.

  “If that is all then, good.”

  The Captain, with Tadeh Qudas, left before anyone could even hope to respond.

  Porc wet his lips, staring at the image on the wall. “Oh, to get that big critch in my reticle. Taking her down will make me a legend.”

  Matt spun around. “No way! The Satan’s mine!”

  Blazer was on his feet in an instant. “Stand Down! You know as well as I do, if we face the Barker it’ll be taken down by the bombers or a capital ship.” He turned to Matt and nodded, putting on a sympathetic face. “We will do all we can to weaken it though and give them a clear shot. We’ll see the Satan fall.”

  Trevis stood and motioned towards the door. “Explosions, be on me.” He turned to Blazer. “We be checking our fighters in last cycle, so I be taking the Explosions to check our equipment and yours, if you be liking.”

  Blazer nodded. “Thank you. We’ll head down to the Flight Deck - make sure that the ferry crews didn’t hurt our birds.”

  Hangar 5, Lower Port Fighter Deck

  This was what Blazer had expected for a Fleet Carrier’s hangar bay. It didn’t hang open to space, in fact, looking around the segmented expanse, one didn’t see any of the usual trappings of a planet-side hangar. Arriving near the midpoint, he looked up and down the towering structure. An open central shaft ran the length of the hangar, from the leading to the trailing bulkheads of this secondary hull. On either side were shelves filled with fighters of various types, all of which were familiar.