Imprint of War

by Phil Huddleston

  It was his last thought. A tremendous explosion went through the ship, and everyone on the bridge was smashed to pulp.

  ***

  Ten thousand kilometers behind the flagship, on the Bat battleship Warmonger, Commodore Rashtal stared at his holotank.

  "Anything from the flagship yet?" he managed to grunt.

  "No, sir," said his XO, gasping from the g-forces. "Nothing. She's still not talking to us."

  "Very well," said Rashtal, turning to the officer. "Notify the fleet I'm taking command until we hear from the flagship."

  "Aye, sir."

  Rashtal turned back to the holotank. His ship was now in emergency decel, causing the g-forces to exceed the limit of the compensators by 6g. Even breathing was difficult. But he had to rally the fleet. He was senior now.

  Between him and the star stood chaos. Ten thousand kilometers ahead, the flagship Pride of Nest rotated slowly end over end, spewing volatiles and chunks of debris. Five million kilometers beyond, the Ape fleet came at them head-on, a bit more than one hour from intercept. Between the two fleets, the destroyer squadrons, in panic and disarray, desperately tried to reverse their vectors and come back to the main fleet before the Apes caught up to them. They would never make it, he saw.

  Rashtal sighed. "The destroyers are gone," he said to his XO, in harness near him. "The Apes will chew them up without even slowing down."

  He saw the Ape fleet was starting to decel also. He grunted, both at the scenario and the g-forces.

  "They want to maximize their engagement window, Caltel," he said painfully. "Suddenly they don't seem so timid anymore."

  The XO managed to gasp out a laugh. "No, sir."

  Rashtal squinted further at the display. Behind his ship streamed the rest of the Bat fleet, in disarray. Besides the Pride of Nest, two additional battleships showed the red "X" of destroyed/out of action. At least five cruisers also showed non-combat ready. And eight frigates were in similar states - or missing from the display.

  "We have...eleven battlewagons left," said Rashtal. "Looks like...nine cruisers...ten frigates."

  He rotated the display slightly and expanded the range to seventy-five million kilometers.

  "And there..." he grunted. "There comes another Ape fleet up our ass. A truly good trap they have played."

  The young Tac Officer, worry and fear in his voice, asked, "What shall we do, sir?"

  Rashtal looked at him. "We fight. Or we die."

  Open Ground

  A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.

  - General George S. Patton, 20th Century Earth

  Orinoco

  25 July 2207

  Five million kilometers in front of the Bat Armada, watching the scrambling Bat destroyer squadrons vectoring madly in front of her, Andrea Iona sat in the Admiral's chair on the Flag Bridge of the Empress Hecate, racing towards the battle. She gazed at the holotank in pleasure.

  "Those fighters did a hell of a job, Jake," she said. "What a punch!"

  Jake's voice sounded quite gratified on the scratchy QE box transmission. "Sure as hell they did. Cassian gets a medal for this."

  Andrea's voice dropped a bit. "Cassian didn't make it, Jake."

  There was a silence. Finally, Jake came back. "He let them know he was here, though."

  Andrea nodded silently. Then...

  "Any last minute changes?"

  "Negative," said Jake. "Work the plan. Continue your decel to sync with my arrival and we'll have them between us. Hit 'em hard and don't stop until you're out of ammunition or targets."

  "Wilco, Admiral."

  "And Andrea..."

  There was a silence once again. Then Andrea responded with a lilt in her voice.

  "I know, Jake. I'll be careful. See you after."

  ***

  As Andrea’s fleet streaked past the madly vectoring Bat destroyers, she engaged in what was virtually target practice, wreaking havoc with battleship and cruiser grade beamers and railgun rounds flashing through their thin hulls, sometimes passing all the way through and out the other side. Andrea didn’t care to waste missiles on them; she was saving those for bigger game. It took them only thirty seconds to pass in and out of engagement range of the panicked destroyer squadrons; but that was enough. They left behind them a sea of fragmented, burning Bat ships, with debris and bodies floating in the void. Only five destroyers survived the encounter, having sheltered on the outside of the formation where they were somewhat protected by other ships.

  Fifty-three minutes later, the Bats had gotten their fleet turned around and were charging back at Jake’s Second Fleet. Andrea’s First Fleet vectored out sideways a bit, putting fifteen thousand klicks lateral distance between her path and the one taken by the Bat Fleet she was now overtaking rapidly.

  The results of thousands of battle simulations over the years had shown that the optimal way to fight the Bats was to turn sideways and face them as you went by. Flying sideways, nose-on to the enemy, put the strongest part of the grav deflectors – the wedge at the front of the ship – facing the enemy, allowed all your weapons to bear directly, and placed your vulnerable engines to the rear. It also minimized the risk of friendly fire accidents. However, it had the disadvantage that you had to stop your main engines at the last second as you turned to face the enemy, so you had to be damn good at predicting what the enemy would do and where you needed to be.

  In this case, it was clear the Bats thought Jake’s larger Second Fleet, coming up from behind them, had been the bigger threat. They had reversed to a direct course to engage Jake’s fleet.

  Andrea was certain the Bats would attempt to pitch out laterally at the last moment, getting outside Jake’s task force, putting Jake between themselves and Andrea. She would then have to shoot through Jake’s fleet to hit a Bat ship, putting her at a disadvantage in targeting. They had agreed in advance this was the most likely scenario, and thus Jake had just now pitched out fifteen thousand klicks to the other side of the Bats path, forcing them to choose. Either they went between Andrea and Jake at the critical moment, or they would have to start thrusting hard any moment now to get outside Jake. But - during the entire engagement since entering the system - both Andrea and Jake had held their acceleration down to 155 g, the spurious value that they had “sold” to the Bats in all their previous encounters. At this critical moment, Jake jumped his accel up to his true maximum military thrust of 200g for ten minutes. This had the effect of bringing the three fleets together much sooner than the Bats anticipated. The Bats no longer had enough time to pitch outside Jake without exposing their engines to Andrea. They had no choice but to go right down the center of the crossfire. Once they were committed, Jake started a new decel pattern at 200g, reducing his speed to maximize his engagement window.

  As the Bat Armada approached firing range, onboard his flagship the Wellington, Jake raised his hand slightly to his Flag Captain, Chris Rathburn, and gestured slightly. "Whenever you’re ready, Chris."

  "I’m damn sure ready, sir," grinned Chris, gesturing to his own Tac Officer.

  Over the QE box, the Tac Officer spoke, "All units, Fire Plan Alpha-six. Fire Plan Alpha-six. Open fire, open fire, open fire!" Jake grinned. Although the actual launches were AI-controlled, it seemed to do humans a world of good to yell out the words, just in case somebody forgot.

  In seconds, a stream of missiles erupted from Jake's Second Fleet. Four battleships spit out thirty-two missiles each, while four cruisers sent another sixty-four missiles on their way. Nine frigates sent an additional flight of seventy-two missiles. Twelve destroyers sent four missiles each. In total, 312 missiles left the tubes of Jake's ships. Meanwhile, 20,000 km away, on the other side of the Bat Fleet, Andrea Iona's First Fleet let loose a similar hell of missiles, adding another 252 ship-killers to the mix. Overall, 564 ship-killing missiles left the tubes of the two RDF fleets as the three groups of warships converged.

  Captain Rashtal gazed silently at the ho
lotank as it indexed the incoming missiles into groups and put the icons in place. As the numbers ramped up, he sighed.

  Turning to Caltel beside him, he directed, "Open fire, Caltel."

  Caltel turned to the Weapons officer and nodded. "Open fire."

  In seconds, the Bat Fleet loosed their own version of hell. Thirty missiles from each of the eleven remaining battlewagons. Sixteen missiles each from the nine operational cruisers. Ten missiles each from the ten remaining frigates. With no intact Bat destroyers left in range to fire, 574 Bat missiles answered the RDF barrage of 564 inbound ship-killers. Rashtal had ordered that sixty percent of his missiles be directed at the larger fleet, with only forty percent directed at Andrea’s smaller First Fleet.

  Accelerating at 4,000g at a range of 10,000 km, the three flocks of missiles screamed past each other at over 625 kps each, with a flight time of only 32 seconds. But as they approached their targets, they weaved, juked, decelerated, accelerated, seeking a path past the point defense system of the enemy to get in closer. And in seconds, a glaring difference became apparent between the Bat military philosophy and that of the RDF. For generation after generation, the Bats had been the aggressors in every battle. They stood off from a helpless planet and smashed it to pieces. Never had they faced a fleet even close to their capabilities. Defenses - especially missile defenses - had taken short shrift with the Bats. Although hundreds of missiles were deflected by their non-sentient AI point defense systems, dozens got through. Missile after missile slammed into the Bat ships. In seconds, eleven of their ships were smashed, out-gassing flames and smoke, burning from the inside out, including four more battleships.

  On the RDF side, the fleet had spent eighty years honing defensive technology in anticipation of this day. Dozens, then hundreds, of the Bat missiles were foxed by ECM into chasing vectors for false targets and went streaming off to empty space. Missiles that got by the ECM were picked off in droves by the sentient AI point defenses of the RDF ships. Jake watched as nearly the entire missile cloud from the Bat ships was deflected or destroyed.

  But no system was perfect. Jake groaned as he watched first one, then a second of his battleships take hits and lose way. A destroyer nearby - one of his screen - was obliterated in a direct hit, exploding so close that the hull of the Wellington rang like a bell from debris. A cruiser close by just disappeared, there one minute, gone the next in a huge fireball. He saw several of his frigates burning, rotating end over end, their engines flickering fitfully in their dying throes.

  And in seconds, the first salvo was done. Jake glanced quickly at the Flag Bridge holotank to assess. Below him, on the Battle Bridge, he heard Captain Rathburn encouraging reloading to proceed faster. Soon he heard the order, "Second salvo, fire, fire, fire!" as the Wellington completed reloads. By now, the Bat ships were turning, as were Jake and Andrea’s fleets, to keep their noses pointed at the rapidly departing enemy. Within twelve seconds of the first salvo going out, another 204 missiles were on their way from Jake’s task force to the rapidly receding Bat fleet. At nearly the same instant as the Wellington fired, Jake saw First Fleet sending their second volley toward the remaining Bat Armada, containing 160 missiles.

  It was then that Jake noticed it. His heart jumped to his throat. He couldn't breathe. He sat down hard in the command chair.

  Ginger rushed over to him. "Sir? Are you OK?"

  Jake could not speak. He shook his head, then put his head in his hands. Ginger glanced at the holotank. At first, she didn't see it. Then it registered on her.

  20,000 km away, the Empress Hecate was marked with a large red 'X'.

  The Enterprise, standing off from the axis of battle by 25,000 km, had finally finished collecting up its surviving A40 fighters after their missile runs. On the bridge holotank, Rob Walker saw the second salvo of missiles from the Bat Armada smash into Jake’s Second Fleet in front of him. One of Jake’s battleships, one of his cruisers, five of his frigates and four destroyers were hit hard, one of the cruisers exploding in fiery trails of debris that looked like fireworks going off. The battleship and the remaining vessels that were struck remained intact but were out of action, their engines down and their weapons offline. Jake and Andrea’s two fleets were in heavy decel, slowing to prepare to re-engage the Bat Fleet for the final showdown. The Bat Fleet was also in heavy decel now to get back into range. Rob knew this would be the final event. Whoever walked away from this next pass walked away with everything.

  But there was no intention of letting Jake and Andrea fight this last round alone. It would take them over an hour to arrest their vectors and start back the other way, and the same was true of the Bat fleet. Thus, it would be well over two hours before they were back in range of each other again. And Rob knew that what had started as a gun fight would then devolve into an eye-gouging, knee-breaking up-close battle of railguns and beamers. Neither side had any missiles left.

  In that strange aspect of space warfare caused when a fleet was at max decel and a fellow ship lost power, the damaged and wrecked ships of Jake and Andrea’s fleets appeared to be accelerating away from their task forces, an optical illusion. Some appeared to be moving back toward the primary star, some in the other direction. Of course, they weren’t accelerating; it just looked that way on the holo. In reality, they were now coasting, out of action, while the other ships under heavy decel moved counter to them.

  So, Rob watched as dozens of wrecked and disabled ships, both Bat and RDF, appeared to depart their fleets in the holo tank. Rob shook his head. He had seen this in the simulator many times, but seeing it live was a strange feeling. He realized that the RDF wrecks from Andrea’s First Fleet would pass directly through the Bat Fleet as the Bats came back into the battlefield, and he wondered if the Bats would finish them off as they went by. He knew the RDF would not fire on a disabled Bat ship if it came back through the RDF fleet; Jake had made that principle very clear in the pre-battle briefings. As Jake had noted, the winner could decide what to do with the survivors, and he intended for the RDF to be the winner.

  He turned to his right, noting his CAG, Captain Wayne, just coming onto the bridge, still wearing his flight suit from the first sortie against the Bat battleships, and his XO Jim Davis staring at his tablet.

  “How we doin’, Jim?”

  Davis looked up from his tablet and nodded. “We’ll be reloaded in a half-hour, Skip. We’ve got 167 functional birds left. We’ll be ready to launch in 60 minutes.”

  Rob grimaced. “That’s going to be cutting it close. How about the Yorktown and Midway?”

  Davis glanced down at his tablet again. “Yorktown has 176 functional birds, Midway has 171. They’re on schedule. We can all launch on time.”

  “OK,” replied Rob. He stared at the holo. “Still looks good for Plan Alpha to me, what do you think?”

  Wayne and Davis stared at the holo. “I think so,” said Wayne. Davis nodded agreement.

  Rob looked at Captain Wayne. “How are your guys holding up in the face of these kinds of losses, CAG?”

  Wayne shook his head and frowned. “We knew it would be rough, but not this rough. But they’re holding up OK. They’ll be good to go.”

  Rob nodded. Wayne gestured to the holo. “How’s Phoebe doing?”

  Rob glanced at the holo, where the Vercingetorix had taken over as flagship of First Fleet, his wife Phoebe now CO of that fleet.

  “It’s hard to tell from the holo, but she’s still moving with the rest of the fleet, so at least she’s got good engines. The sidebar reports her as heavy damage but still combat-capable.” Rob shook his head. “Back to business, guys. Phoebe can take care of herself.”

  Onboard the Warmonger, Captain Rashtal also studied the holo plot, trying to out-guess the Apes.

  “I don’t think there’s much to plan for on this one,” he said to his XO. “We all come together, and we all start shooting. The time for strategy and tactics is over.”

  “Agreed,” said his XO, Caltel. “Now it’s just
firepower.”

  Rashtal couldn’t help but smile at his XO.

  “That it is, Caltel. That it is.”

  First Fleet – now under the command of Phoebe Walker on the Vercingetorix - had vectored downward from the battle axis slightly after the first pass, just enough to keep from following directly along behind the Bat Fleet as it decelerated. They were just coming out of ten minutes of max emergency decel now, pulling 207g – 7g more than the compensators could offset – with the crews strapped in tight and grunting with pain. Phoebe knew they had to open some space between themselves and the Bats in order to get back to Jake before the Bats did. Finally, she decided they had enough spatial separation and ordered a reduction back to 200g decel, the max standard thrust the ships could take and still have full compensation. With sighs of relief, the crews gulped air back into their lungs, rubbed their aching arms and legs, and returned to their duties.

  The three fleet carriers Enterprise, Yorktown and Midway were at three points of an equilateral triangle, each 25,000 klicks from the axis of battle, which ran directly toward the primary star. They were not quite even, each one a little staggered from the other, in terms of distance from the primary. Thus, their distance to the projected point of convergence of the three fleets varied slightly. This facilitated them launching their A40 squadrons for placement in a row, one directly behind the other, facing the Bat fleet.

  After an hour, all three fleets – First Fleet, Second Fleet and the Bat Armada - had reversed their directions and were now accelerating back toward each other. Rob could now project the point of convergence – the place where all three fleets would come together for the last time. Phoebe and First Fleet were now under 160g accel back toward Jake, while Jake was at 200g decel, to ensure they could rejoin before the Bats arrived. But it was going to be close. The Bats were at 208g, trying to get back if possible before Phoebe and Jake could rejoin. Briefly, Phoebe went to 207g again, crushing her crews back into their seats, but after another ten minutes it was clear the Bats could not get to them before they rejoined, and she dropped back down to 180 g.