Right Ascension

by David Derrico

  “Is that it?” asked Zach incredulously. “Are they dead?”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it,” replied the Admiral. “So keep moving!”

  Instinctively, Zach jerked the control stick to his left, just moments before a bright beam of pure white light shot forth from the center of the collapsing fireball. When the explosion had subsided, the viewscreen once again resolved to show the silver alien sphere, completely unscathed by the vicious barrage.

  “Damn it!” yelled Dex. “I gave them everything we had.”

  Anastasia quickly checked her displays. “There aren’t any inhabited systems for parsecs,” she said. “I don’t suppose we have enough power to fire the Cannon?”

  “Of course not,” grumbled the Admiral, cursing their poor luck. “That would be too easy.”

  Though Zach was skillfully darting the ship in an elusive pattern, a well-aimed beam of bluish light shot from the Lucani Ibron ship and struck the Apocalypse squarely in the fuselage. Within an instant, every status board and display panel on the bridge lit up like an angry Christmas tree. The bridge lights flickered spasmodically and a new set of alarm sirens rang out through the ship.

  Darren’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Whatever that was, it was bad, sir. The starboard engine core is going critical!”

  “Can we stabilize—” started the Admiral.

  “No—we have to eject it now!”

  How long do we have?” Daniel asked.

  “Fifteen seconds, tops.”

  The Admiral thought for a split-second. “Zach, turn us around and get us out of here right now.”

  “But Admiral,” Nathan began as the ship spun around and surged up to speed, “what about the core?”

  “Not now, Nathan,” Daniel replied curtly. “Darren, I have core jettison control. Nathan, go to hyperspace on my mark.”

  The Fedoran gulped audibly.

  Several seconds passed in total silence, save the incessant blaring of the alarms. As the imaginary fifteen-second countdown approached zero, four pairs of eyes stared unrelentingly at the Admiral.

  “Daniel,” warned Anastasia, sounding genuinely concerned, “now would be a good time.”

  Daniel’s display console flashed a bright red and an urgent-sounding alarm rang from the speakers. “Now!” Daniel yelled.

  An instant later, Nathan launched the ship into hyperspace just as Daniel ejected the critical engine core behind them. The ensuing explosion, though magnificent, felt like nothing more than a muffled thump as the ship accelerated to incredible speed. With any luck, the explosion would have concealed their hyperspace trail, making pursuit by the Lucani Ibron difficult. In addition, their escape might give Daniel a chance to test his theory that the awful silver ship, though seemingly omnipotent, did indeed need to recharge after firing its deadly death ray.

  “Is there any pursuit, Nathan?” asked the Admiral, not sure if he could pull off another miraculous escape if there was. “Are they following us?”

  “Not that I can see, sir,” the nervous Fedoran replied.

  “Well,” responded Anastasia, “if they had followed us, they probably would have caught us by now.”

  “Sir,” Dex began, “I have a theory. It is consistent with the aliens’ known tactical history that they need to somehow recharge their ship after firing their primary weapon.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” replied the Admiral. “That certainly does seem to be the case.”

  “So perhaps it gives us a short reprieve with which to deal with the Vr’amil’een?” asked Anastasia rhetorically.

  “Perhaps,” Daniel agreed, his mind sluggishly refocusing on the impending Vr’amil’een threat. “Nathan, what is our ETA to Earth?”

  “Forty-two minutes, 17 seconds, sir,” he replied.

  Daniel nodded silently, folding his hands in a pyramid in front of his chin. I’m coming, Tara, he thought. I’m on my way.

  • • •

  Daniel stared into the starlines that breezed past the viewscreen, bright lances of light that streamed like effulgent daggers toward the speeding Apocalypse. Each of those light beams was a star, Daniel knew, many of which were surrounded by planets that supported some level of sentient life. One star that no longer burned, however, was the Korgian Sun, destroyed 33 years ago by an act of unsurpassed cowardice, weakness, and evil.

  Daniel wearily rubbed his temples, the oppressive weight of his newfound knowledge almost too much to bear. Now, he rushed headlong toward Earth, to save the very Confederation that was inherently responsible for that horrific act. But Earth was not responsible for the Annihilation, Daniel reminded himself. No more than a handful of Earth’s eight billion inhabitants even knew the awful truth, let alone were responsible for it. Whatever his rationalizing, Daniel had no choice but to protect his wife, unaware of the Armada that was coming to attack her.

  If it had not already arrived.

  “One minute to arrival in the Sol System, Admiral,” said Nathan, interrupting his reverie. “I’m taking us in as close as I can before we disengage the hyperdrive.”

  The Admiral nodded, a bit taken aback by how quickly the past several minutes had passed. Daniel straightened himself in his chair, making one last check of the status reports and the ship’s remaining inventory.

  Upon turning back to his console, Nathan quickly punched up the main viewscreen. “Ten seconds to realspace emergence, sir.”

  The hum of the hyperdrive engines slowly faded away and the sun, a brilliant yellow-white, dominated the right edge of the screen. Before Daniel even asked, Dex called out the sensors’ results: “No Vr’amil’een ships in-system, Admiral.”

  Daniel relaxed for a moment, but fixated his eyes on the screen. As the sun slipped off the right edge of the viewscreen, Daniel could more clearly see Earth. Several warships were breaking orbit and rushing headlong toward the sun, speeding away from the planet. Before Nathan even spoke, Daniel knew what they were rushing toward.

  “Sir, I have incoming ships on long-range radar,” exclaimed the terrified Fedoran. “ETA: three seconds!”

  And there they were. The viewscreen shifted to show their arrival, jumping in just beyond and below the asteroid belt, on the far side of the sun. The Armada screamed toward the yellow star, closing toward Earth and the Confederation warships scrambling to intercept them. Both groups of warships, each several dozen strong, converged on a point equidistant from both sides, a point that was now—unluckily enough—inhabited by the crippled and ailing Apocalypse.

  CHAPTER 18

  A three-dimensional representation of the opposing fleets, created by the holo-vid projector, hovered in the center of the bridge, depicting the imminent battle between the Confederation Fleet and the Vr’amil’een Armada. On the right were the Vr’amil’een ships, racing in tight formation toward Earth at full speed. On the left was the surprised Confederation Fleet, looking far less organized, rushing haphazardly to meet the threat before they got close enough to threaten Earth. The swifter ships were out in front, trailing the heavier Battlecruisers behind them as they tried in vain to get into position to face this unexpected assault in time. Though the way the swifter ships were rushing headlong into combat was undeniably brave, they would do little to even slow the mighty Vr’amil’een Supercruiser that spearheaded the assault.

  And they would be slaughtered.

  Daniel wondered how in the Seventeen Systems the Vr’amil’een had been able to arrive in the Sol System undetected. Though it did not specifically say so in the stolen plans, he assumed it was made possible through Le Jaunte’s treasonous aid. Now that they had been surprised, the Confederation Fleet was the picture of chaos, rushing toward the threat seemingly with neither plan nor coordinated purpose. Apparently, Le Jaunte had done much to undermine the Fleet before his departure.

  “Who’s in charge here?” wondered the Admiral aloud, rising from his seat, his eyes still fixated on the projection. “Nathan, get me a secure channel to the Victory right away.�
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  Nathan fingered a control on his console and nodded to the Admiral.

  “SB-112,020 Victory, this is Admiral Daniel Atgard of the ZX-999 Apocalypse. Who is in charge here?”

  There was a brief delay before a reply came over the bridge speakers and an image appeared on the viewscreen, visible behind the now-dimmed projection. “Admiral Atgard,” the man on the screen began, “this is Admiral Robert McLaney.” He cleared his throat. “I am in charge.”

  “Mr. McLaney,” the Admiral began, acutely aware that time was of the essence. “What in the hell are you doing??”

  McLaney cleared his throat once again. “Well, sir, I thought the Corvettes could slow them down and give us time to regroup and intercept …”

  The Admiral cursed under his breath. Though McLaney was a good man, he was a lousy tactician, and Daniel wondered about the circumstances surrounding his sudden promotion to Admiral.

  “Mr. McLaney,” the Admiral began diplomatically, taking a deep breath and preparing to offer his advice to the nervous commander. A glance at the viewscreen, however, told him that he didn’t have the time. More drastic measures were necessary.

  “Nathan, broadcast to all friendly ships,” commanded the Admiral, pausing just long enough for the Fedoran to complete the order. “To all Confederation ships, this is Admiral Daniel Atgard taking command of the Fleet. Corvettes, fall back into flanking positions behind the Victory immediately. Cruisers, form around the Victory, defensive grid Gamma Three. Victory, adjust heading to course 319, mark 72 and decrease speed to 75 percent.”

  There seemed to be a slight hesitation from the Fleet, as if waiting for McLaney to challenge the Admiral’s authority. He did not.

  Surely glad to abandon their suicide rush, the Corvettes were the first to change course, looping away from the Armada and back toward the Victory just before they entered the range of the Supercruiser’s cannons. The other Cruisers, racing ahead of the slower Victory, slowed to allow their flagship to catch up, forming around the specified coordinates. The Victory, after a few seconds hesitation, ponderously changed course to the heading Daniel had requested.

  Daniel’s eyes focused on the massive Vr’amil’een Supercruiser that dominated the group of Vr’amil’een ships. The display showed that the Victory, though immense in its own right, was only three-quarters the size of the enormous Vr’amil’een flagship. Daniel knew from experience that no ship—not even the mighty Victory—would want to be in the crosshairs of the Supercruiser’s deadly nose cannon.

  The Admiral’s mind raced. It did not take Daniel long to realize that the match-up was no good. The Victory was not designed for speed or evasive maneuvers; it was designed to meet enemies head on and win through overwhelming force. As the viewscreen plainly showed, however, the Supercruiser would not be overwhelmed, and that nose cannon would take a heavy toll, even on the powerful shields of the Victory.

  They had to take out that Supercruiser, and quickly. It was the key—without it, the Vr’amil’een Armada could be dealt with without serious losses; with it and its unbelievably powerful cannon, the Victory would probably be destroyed. Daniel seriously doubted whether the remaining ships of the Confederation Fleet possessed the requisite firepower to destroy the imposing colossus.

  Daniel thought back to how the Apocalypse had defeated the first heavy Vr’amil’een Battlecruiser back in the Tu’oth System. Their agility negated the awesome power of the ship’s powerful nose cannon, and, even without shields, they had been able to withstand the ship’s secondary weapons with their nearly impregnable hull. If he could somehow get the Supercruiser to concentrate on the Apocalypse …

  A smile found its way to Daniel’s lips. “Hey, Dex,” he called coyly. “The Vr’amil’een don’t like you very much, do they?”

  • • •

  A quick check with Darren revealed that his original assessment had been correct: they could fire weapons to an extent, but they would not have shields. Luckily, the Apocalypse had more than just energy weapons, which would deplete their energy reserves very quickly.

  “Are you ready, Dex?” asked the Admiral.

  Dex nodded. He rose and walked to the center of the bridge. Daniel walked over and took Dex’s seat behind the tactical console.

  Once he was seated, Dex turned to Nathan. “Open a channel to the Vr’amil’een Armada.”

  Dex drew himself up to his full height, aware that the transmission would contain video as well as audio. “Hostile vessels,” he began, “this is Admiral Dex Rutcliffe of the Apocalypse, in charge of the Confederation Fleet. Surrender immediately or you will be destroyed.” Dex paused for a moment before adding, “Again.”

  Daniel wondered if Le Jaunte would still be aboard the Supercruiser. His gut feeling told him that he would not—after all, Le Jaunte was not the type to put himself into harm’s way. The coward undoubtedly planned to show up to claim victory after the battle had already been decided.

  Whether Le Jaunte was aboard or not, however, the Admiral knew the proud Vr’amil’een would not be able to pass up the chance to avenge their prior defeat at the hands of Dex, whom they held personally responsible. And he knew that the honor that would come from capturing or killing Dex would be so great that the Supreme Commander of the invasion—who undoubtedly would be commanding the Supercruiser—would not let it go to anyone but himself.

  It did not take long at all for the Supercruiser to turn ponderously toward the tiny Apocalypse. A tight smile stretched across Daniel’s lips, just before he realized how ironic it was that what he was celebrating was the fact that the Vr’amil’een Supercruiser was now coming to destroy him.

  In chasing after the Apocalypse, however, the Commander was either overconfident in the capabilities of the rest of the Armada, or he was so blinded by vengeance that he did not care. Either way, the Fleet—even under the dubious command of McLaney—should be able to handle the remaining threat, especially considering that Daniel had directed them to a location within range of two separate automatic defense stations.

  For now, however, Daniel had more pressing problems. Now that he had baited the Supercruiser into attacking him, how was he going to defeat it?

  His first thought was to zip around it as he had the Battlecruiser in the Tu’oth System; however, once he saw the fighters streaming from the Supercruiser’s huge hangar bay and the numerous heavy gun turrets aboard the behemoth vessel, he thought otherwise. Luring it through the Asteroid Belt—again, as he had the previous Vr’amil’een Battlecruiser—would be ineffective, as the belt in the Sol System was not nearly as wide nor dense as the one near Tu’oth’roor. And, without shields or full energy weapons, a prolonged firefight was out of the question.

  What did he have? Though the loss of the starboard engine bank would inhibit his sublight propulsion systems and their limited power supply would inhibit the use of energy weapons, his impressive arsenal of projectile weapons and missiles was available at minimal energy cost. There were even a couple of nuclear warheads aboard.

  Daniel’s thoughts were cut short as the first wave of fighters came into firing range. Zach instinctively jerked the ship out of the path of the fighters’ gunfire, though several shots from the small fighters found their marks nonetheless, the muffled pings of their projectiles’ impacts audible over the low drone of the crippled engines.

  “Return fire with projectile weapons only, Dex,” replied the Admiral, settling into his command chair and calling up the tactical displays. “Zach, keep us just outside the firing range of the Supercruiser. Let’s lead it away from Earth for a while. Head for the Saturn defense station.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  The guns of the Vr’amil’een fighters proved to be ineffectual against the Apocalypse’s dense armour, and Dex adeptly took out several of the annoying ships with well-aimed bursts from the rear guns.

  “Sir, we have five heavy fighters coming into range,” Dex reported, still concentrating on destroying the smaller fighters that buzzed ab
out the ship. “They have heavy warheads, and, without shields, we don’t want to take too many of those.”

  They were approaching Saturn now, and already the automated defense station had begun spewing deadly beams of laser energy into the paths of the enemy fighters. Just as the large fighters came into range, predictably firing homing missiles at the Apocalypse, Zach dipped the ship into Saturn’s dense ring system, causing an immediate outburst of noise as harmless ice particles pelted the ship. Daniel tracked the missiles on the tactical display, watching as the proximity warheads impacted harmlessly on the ice particles behind them.

  The incessant barrage against the ship’s hull drowned out the gentle throb of the engines as Zach piloted the ship deeper into the innocuous ring system. They could hide here, or outrun the Supercruiser, or simply use the Apocalypse’s infinitely superior speed and maneuverability to avoid serious damage from the Vr’amil’een ship almost indefinitely. But that would only serve to delay the inevitable. At some point, the tiny Apocalypse would have to mount some sort of offense against the mighty ship.

  Suddenly audible above the cacophony of ring debris was a resounding explosion, undoubtedly the result of the Supercruiser’s cannon. “There goes the defense station,” Dex reported stoically. Though the defense stations, vestigial remains of an older military era, were unmanned and for the most part outdated, the Admiral had hoped this one would have at least helped destroy a few more of the fighters that were now bearing down on the Apocalypse once again.

  Dex continued firing at the fighters, which had followed them into the dense ring system. Though several of the fighters’ shots were finding their marks, the Apocalypse remained relatively unscathed.

  “Admiral,” warned Dex, sounding concerned, “the Supercruiser is in range.”

  “Already?” asked the Admiral in disbelief. The huge ship had intercepted them with surprising speed, closing on the tiny Apocalypse that hid within a ring system that would do nothing to stop the Supercruiser’s heavy cannons.