“What’s happened?” Gun demanded.
General Honorius remained upright, refusing to hold onto anything, much like the Colonel. His eyes were locked ahead on the middle of the three screens, his right hand pointing at a distant shape.
“We’re in the right place. Look.”
Commander Higgins struggled to see what he was pointing at. The display was full of small objects as though they’d just entered an asteroid field. Many swirled around the fleet, a great vortex of metal and destruction. Most ripped apart, but a good number struck the hull of Victorious and caused multiple craters, even tearing off some of the outer armour plates.
“Colonel, this is ship debris,” said Captain Delatorre, “We need to get through it to reach the station.”
“Can you not just use the Interstellar Engines and bypass the field entirely?”
Captain Delatorre passed the question on to his small number of officers. Colonel Gun in the meantime concentrated on the detailed scans arriving second by second, the primary information merely confirming mass, dimensions, and relative velocity. Then came the detailed analysis. Seconds later, General Honorius staggered with shock.
“General, what is it?”
The massive armoured form of Colonel Gun grabbed the Byotai General and helped keep him to his feet. Commander Higgins started to rise from his seat, but the Colonel shook his head at seeing him, and then concentrated on the General.
“My people…a slaughter.”
All of them looked back at the screen, and the computer generated imagery of the moving chunks of metal. Some coalesced into ships until there were scores, eventually hundreds of them. Colonel Gun continued to snarl as he examined the wreckage around them.
“This was not a military fleet.”
He pointed at three large chunks, all of which the computer showed were part of a super-transport from Spascia. Captain Delatorre read out the information to the sombre crowd.
“Something happened as this massive fleet left the system. We cannot activate our engines until we’re clear of the area. Either we move away, or we force our way inside to the base.”
He pointed specifically at the largest piece of debris.
“Our records confirm this is the four thousand-metre long super-transport Argo II. She had crew of one hundred and sixty. Cargo, agricultural supplies, and foodstuffs.”
The Colonel’s attention shifted to a group of four more ships, showing as Byotai flagged. He nodded towards several on the right. They showed up as nearly the same mass as the gigantic transport ship now lying in ruins.
“Passenger transports. What happened here?”
Captain Delatorre placed his head in his right hand; trying to digest the information his officers had just given him. When he looked up, his face was pale and haggard, as though he’d aged a decade in a matter of seconds.
“The computer confirms wreckage from over two hundred different ships, with more than ninety percent flagged as…”
He paused, and Commander Higgins looked hard at him. Thinking perhaps something else had happened.
“Civilian ships, Sir. Every single one of them was moving away from Ctenosaura Primus. It was a massacre.”
Colonel Gun snarled once more.
“So what happened?”
None of them knew what to say, and in that short moment, the fleet continued its brutal work as it sped away from the planet, shattering anything getting too close. The General spoke, his words slow, and the translator system following a word behind those that left his lips.
“This was an evacuation. My people and yours must have been leaving the planet in a mass exodus. Just look at the numbers. And then the Star Empire obliterated them before they could reach the Rift, and safety.”
Colonel Gun’s face started to shake, and for a brief moment Commander Higgins thought he might go on some berserk rampage. He moved to the three displays and brought up an image of a man inside a fully armoured Maverick suit.
“Spartan, are you seeing this?”
Commander Higgins watched the two veteran warriors speaking. He knew of them, like everybody in the military did, but never expected to be this close to them in the middle of an operation.
“Yeah, I see it. We can’t do a thing about it right now. What about the target, is it clear?”
A brief discussion ensued before the Colonel tagged the orbiting facility. One thing that caught the Commander’s eye was the amount of components outlined in red.
“The station is fifteen minutes away, once we clear the next path of debris. Sensors show they’ve detected our presence.”
“Very well,” said Spartan, “This field should have masked us, instead it’s just highlighted our arrival. What about ships?”
Commander Higgins checked his screens one last time before joining in.
“Colonel, my scans show the area is clear. No warships within a day’s travel of this region. No…wait…I’ve got something.”
With a simple hand gesture, he moved his own data onto the mainscreens so that they could see what he’d found.
“The debris field is blocking most of our scanners, but electronic emissions confirm there are…”
Even as he spoke, the scanners identified multiple objects launching into space.
“At least fifteen, no twenty craft, and they’re moving out into a defensive orbit around the station. Sensors keep losing lock. The derelict is still there.”
“And the weapon?”
Commander Higgins searched through the blocked images and scans, but only fragments broke free to confirm little of use. He looked to the tactical officer who merely shook its head.
“Negative, can’t confirm, not until we’re through.”
“And then we’ll be right on top of them,” said Spartan from the display unit. Commander Higgins pointed to the middle screen.
“Colonel. I think this debris field is more than just the scene of a massacre. I think its creation was intentional.”
Gun lowered his gaze and considered that. He then nodded several times and smiled back at him.
“Makes sense. The field is performing the same job as an energy field, and also an interdiction transmitter to stop us using our high-speed engines. I don’t like it.”
General Honorius nodded in agreement.
“The Colonel is right. If I wanted to create an ambush, this is how I would do it. We cannot see the target clearly, and we cannot run.”
“Yeah,” said Gun, “It buys time for help to come, and it makes a long-range attack by our ships almost impossible. We will need to be quick.”
He turned away and back to the triple bank of large displays.
“Very well,” said the Colonel, “We will continue with the mission. Everybody to your stations, it is time. I want the ground forces ready, and a fighter screen ready for launch.”
Commander Higgins activated his link to the drone fighter pilots and then confirmed their status to the Colonel. The old warrior nodded, but said nothing. Major Spartan activated his armour, and the lighting inside the heavy suit changed subtlety for a second.
“Gun, get us in close and hit them hard. I don’t want to stay here a second longer than we have to. Get through the field and begin the assault.”
“Agreed.”
Commander Higgins loaded up the fighters on the ships and did a final check. There were eighty of them, all loaded and showing up as green on his board. A single craft had a temporary gun fault marked on amber, but he could do nothing about that. Then there were the eighteen already loaded in the droptubes on the ships, six per Confederate Class warship, and the only ready to launch drone fighters in the fleet.
“All fighters ready to launch.”
“Excellent,” said Gun, “Helm, take us in. It is time for the bloodletting.”
* * *
Nate calmed his breathing for the third time and examined what was going on outside. They’d been told the area was secure, yet as they burst through the debris field, it was
clearly going to be a lot harder than expected to reach the station. The ships were big and difficult to manoeuvre, and for every large chunk of wreckage they avoided, three more struck their hulls. The gun turrets continued to lash out, but there was only so much they could do.
“Ironclad Leader. Is this a good idea?”
The response was curt and direct.
“The mission is a go, Star Crusader. Nothing can change that now.”
It sent a shiver down his spine. He’d heard her speak positively and negatively before about missions, but never had she sounded like this. Nate looked to the rest of the ships and found himself shaking his head. They moved like a herd of beasts, smashing and battering their way through the fine clouds of debris, skirting around the larger chunks to avoid major damage.
Insane, just insane.
“Are you seeing this?”
Billy’s voice was strained, higher pitched than normal, and Nate could tell he was scared. He opened his mouth to answer, and then gasped. Hundreds of tiny pieces of metal blocked his view for several seconds, and then everything changed.
“Okay, Ironclads. We’re through the outer field,” said Commander Higgins. His voice was clam, reassuring, and quite the opposite of how the pilots all felt. Nate checked his status screens, his attention drawn to the distorted, and still partially hidden shape of the approaching station. There were still a good number of wrecks to bypass, but the debris had thinned out enough to allow him a good view of most of the site.
Something’s wrong.
“Uh, is this right?”
“What’s wrong?” Holder asked.
“The station. I can’t see…wait, there it is.”
A window briefly opened up, granting a clear view of the facility. It looked gigantic, closer to a moon than an artificial construction. There were so many massive spires, towers, gantries, and shipyards it was almost impossible to identify the key targets they were looking for.
“Affirmative,” said Commander Higgins. We have the location of the derelict, and the gantries and support around the weapon are still in place. Wait…”
Nate held his breath, wondering what possibly could be the problem. He looked at his screen but as before, most of the facility was again obscured with drifting flotsam, and then it started. At first it was just a few red lights. Then dozens and dozens of them.
Enemy fighters!
“All fighters launch now!”
Without giving it a moment’s thought, Nate hit the launch button and instantly detached from the ship. The shift in inertia was immediately evident, even though technically he was still inside the ship. The bond was that good.
“Raptor Wing, form up behind the Ironclads,” said Holder.
“Affirmative,” came back the responses. Nate noticed Corporal Greenway’s voice. The marine had been one of his toughest opponents upon arrival, and now they saw each other as equals when it came to space combat. He nearly smiled before spotting a chunk of metal the size of his drone coming right at him.
Move!
There was no time to check around him. He hit the thruster controls and pulled above his previous position. The movable ducts fitted behind the single engine thrust him out of harm’s way faster than any craft he’d controlled before.
Wow!
Even in the simulations these drones had been a lot less effective. He adjusted his course and checked on his comrades. The other eight drones were arrayed in a loose line, gently staggered so that it looked almost like a V. Behind them was another formation of fighters, making up an additional wave of twelve spacecraft. It was a formidable group, but still lacked the staying power or firepower of the fighters and gunships he’d already used in battle.
Forty operators for the entire fleet, and eight more drones in reserve. That’s five squadrons of drones if we fully commit.
Nate concentrated on avoiding the floating debris, simultaneously scanning ahead for the enemy. The shapes were coming towards them, and it looked as though for now they were evenly matched. A quick look to his right showed that Billy was on his flank and ready to protect him, no matter what. It provided the perfect view of the ugly looking X1 drone. Nate had heard a few of the marines calling them Stilettos, after the deadly stabbing blades used by some units. Rather than spacecraft, they looked much more like a fighter engine on its own, with a bizarre thruster contraption attached to the rear of the unit. There were small angular wings that pushed back at a raking angle, and a stubby, ugly looking nose. At the centre was the thick barrel of the venerable HEC-1 plasma cannon, a weapon Nate had never seen used in anger before.
Another series of alerts activated, and the flagged fighters moved closer. There was little point in either side using missiles in this field, so they wound their way closer and closer until he could make out their size and designs.
Hawkmoths.
Nate had seen and faced these light fighters on several occasions. Their central hulls were tough, but the extended wings so thin they looked like semi-transparent membranes, and were easily damaged. He hadn’t forgotten the weapons they carried. The pair of high-velocity 12.7mm pulse cannons were easily capable of blasting his drones apart.
“All fighters, stick with your wingmen. Break and attack!” said Lieutenant Commander Holder, “Clear a path!”
“Sir!”
Nate checked one last time on Billy, and then hit the burner. The engine glowed white hot as it thrust him ahead. Billy struggled to keep up.
“Billy, prep your gun. Remember, they need time to charge.”
“Got it.”
The two fighters darted above the long section of wreckage from a freighter and into the path of three enemy fighters. Both sides were as surprised as the other, and for a second nothing happened.
“Fire!” Nate yelled.
The two pulled their triggers a fraction of a second before the enemy. Heavy magnetically sealed shells containing burning hot plasma fired at the Byotai in slow bursts of green energy. Three missed as the Hawkmoth fighters moved left and right, and then Nate scored a direct hit. The shell burst through the nose and exploded deep inside the craft. A flash of green vanished, replaced by white and orange as the craft tore itself to pieces. Nate felt a pang of guilt, a feeling that instantly vanished as dozens of holes appeared along Billy’s drone.
“Billy, move!”
His friend pulled to the left, passed behind Nate, and vanished alongside the wreckage of the enemy fighter. Then they were past the first wave and into the gigantic battle. As they emerged from the worst part of the debris field, the remaining members of the Raptors came behind them, some of the X1 drones streaming smoke and flame. One spun wildly, exploding as it struck a small, drifting lump of metal. Nate’s scanners showed millions of chunks in orbit around the planet, with as many forming a dispersed cloud around the orbital facility. It effectively created an ad hoc shield, and he yanked the controls to avoid yet another piece. Another drone vanished off his status indicator, and he nearly panicked at the thought of losing the battle before it had really begun. Then Billy burst out from cover, his single gun blazing away. Nate hadn’t seen the target, and as his attention turned to the front, he found a Hawkmoth bearing down on him. Plasma rounds tore into its flanks, and then it was gone, a burning wreck like so many of the others.
“Thanks, Billy, good shooting.”
Nate panted with relief, once more completely forgetting that he was not actually inside the drone.
How many did we lose?
“Keep moving. The fleet will handle any that get too close,” said Holder.
Nate checked over his shoulder as the bow of the first warship pushed out of the field. He expected it would be a transport, but it was ANS Victorious, and her bow was wreathed in flames as every one of her secondary weapons came on-line. Scores of turrets blasted the debris, as well as the unfortunate few Hawkmoth fighters forcing their way past the screen of X1 drones. Then came the terrifying blasts of energy from the batteries of particle blaster t
urrets. These were fitted on all of the ships, and fired short particle bursts at light speed. As they struck their targets, they disintegrated in terrible flashes and explosions.
“We got through!” Billy yelled.
Nate chuckled as his friends chatted excitedly.
“Now all…”
“Cut the chatter. Our work is just beginning,” said Holder.
Nate’s smile vanished, realising only half of them had made it this far. Eight drones were gone, wiped out in collisions and explosions, and two more circled out of control.
“Reform and follow my lead.”
The group coalesced into a single formation with Holder at the front. Nate was right behind her, and Billy’s drone spluttered away as it attempted to keep up. The planet was in front as before, but with the bright disc of the massive station directly ahead. The entire thing glowed with flickering lights, serving as a reminder to the vast numbers of people working aboard the artificial satellite. Huge sections shifted and moved on the surface, as gantries moved aside and gigantic movable plates changed position for protection.
“The station is turtling,” said Holder, her voice struggling to hide her frustration. Some of the marine pilots were immediately confused, but Matilda waded in to explain as usual.
“Moveable armour, they can adjust their outer hulls and defensive systems depending on the situation.”
“And what situation is that?”
Matilda didn’t hesitate before answering.
“Defence against orbital bombardment. Look at the positioning.”
Nate rans his eyes across the detailed scan of the surface. He tried to avoid the myriad of gun turrets, missile installations, and anti-ship batteries. The armour was certainly moving, and from what he could see, sections were shifting to protect the derelict and the weapon system.
Star Crusader: Battle Fleet Victorious Page 19
