by Chris Burton
The Kryl had more vessels. As fast as one Kryl fighter was destroyed, another would replace it. On the plus side, both the Rapiers and the Sabres held their own. They may have been technically inferior, but their pilots were not and this was telling. The Pacific chief CAG was charged with the fastest possible turnaround of ships. He had never seen anything like this, but his CAG teams were coping remarkably well. They were adapting to the situation and delivering.
The Pacific battle group destroyed five of the obstructing cruisers, and was beginning to get a clear line of fire towards the Kryl mother ship. This was critical. If they could destroy the mother ship, then the battle would be over. Shenke ordered his ship to move in closer to the Kryl vessel. He planned to use the PBA, and needed to get within one thousand meters to gain the maximum effect. This was a dangerous but calculated strategy, one he had used before.
“PBA online sir, range calibrated.”
“Raise the accelerator to two three five mark seven,” came the reply from the PBA weapons chief. This was his baby. The huge Particle Beam Accelerator was the single largest piece of equipment on the entire ship. When raised, its dimensions were greater than the average Alpha battleship.
The twelve interconnecting beams were already in place, held back only by control rods which when removed would send each beam into the huge central cylinder forcing the particles along it and squeezing them into a second much smaller chamber. The collective point was where all the laser particles hit their maximum intensity. It was here where the beam accelerated to its intended target.
Many Alpha ships carried PBAs but the star ship PBA was the full-size model. At full strength, it could decimate a planet the size of Earth in minutes. It was a formidable weapon, but had its drawbacks. Range was always an issue. Too close and the explosion would take out the firing ship as well as its target; too far and the beam would break up before it reached the target. Calculation and calibration were critical, and the PBA weapons chief was charged with getting the calculation right.
“Have we verified our calculations and carried out full diagnostics?” asked Shenke.
“Yes sir. The calibrations have been verified and all systems double-checked. ”
Shenke waited for the signal from the battle group commander who led the attack on the mother ship. He had pulled all ships back and waited. Timing was critical.
“Engage the PBA.”
The weapon fired microseconds later and the full force of the PBA penetrated the mother ship. Her shields were weakened sufficiently and the timing was right. She was immediately engulfed in a fireball. Seconds later she exploded, sending parts of the huge ship ricocheting through the fleet, the jump ship fracas and beyond. The Mother Ship was destroyed.
Immediately, Shenke and his team moved to target the smaller cruisers. They were suddenly on their own, their infrastructure was ripped apart. The Kryl fighters were quickly in trouble. Their enhanced capability was, in part, powered remotely by the mother ship. This was lost instantly and, one by one, the Alpha fleet and their Sect counterparts took out their targets. Resistance continued but this battle was won and would soon be over.
Shenke turned his attention to his next problem and left his senior commanders to continue to execute the battle. Dr. Cameron answered Shenke’s comm link immediately.
“It was a fire show, Admiral. Can I assume we are in the ascendency?”
“Yes, Doctor, which means I need you to get the subspace weapons set up. How many charges do we have?”
“We have made up thirty charges, although half would probably be sufficient. We need the majority to fall on or within the mouth of the blue wormhole. It is imperative that one penetrates the center of the wormhole itself. This will then implode the center of the wormhole, with the other charges sealing off this end. I presume we will be deploying the charges imminently?”
“Yes, as soon as the jump ship battle is won. I estimate completion within the next three to four hours. I understand that we are using Rapier 7’s?”
“Yes, my understanding is that there will be two squadrons one coming in from the left and one from the right. They will need to get as close as possible to the wormholes without being pulled in. I am leaving the technicalities of deployment to the CAG. This is going to be dangerous for the pilots though. I presume volunteers will be used?”
“To a certain extent, but we need the best pilots. Most of those are exhausted, so we do have certain limitations. How long after the charges are deployed before we can expect the hole to close?”
Cameron smiled. “It will take about ten minutes for the center charge explosion to reach the center of the wormhole. It will be dragged along by inertia, to an extent, but it has a long way to travel.”
“Will they see anything the other side?”
“No. They will only witness the explosion if they are at this end of the wormhole. If they are at this end they will be vaporized. Are you thinking about the Kryl, or the Alpha vessels still in the Kryl galaxy?”
“Both, really. In any event, nothing will stand in the way of the charges’ deployment. If this works and we have finished off the Kryl here, then the whole Kryl ‘invasion’ can be archived once and for all.”
Cameron shifted uncomfortably. He had done his bit. Success or failure was down to the jump ship Pilots. He smiled again and paused briefly. “It will work, Admiral; It will work.”
* * * *
On the other side of the wormhole, Hoskins sighed deeply. He lost over one hundred crew members, and they were still the wrong side of the wormhole and light years from home. He found it hard to look on the bright side. He was tasked with following Winterburn, and he interpreted that task as recapturing him and bringing him back to Alpha. That task failed, and for the loss of so many people. Would it not have been better to stay with the individual ships when they first entered the wormhole? What happened to them? He thought. If they were all dead that was yet more deaths on his conscience. Clearly his interpretation was wrong.
The Halo 7 was at maximum thrust. The Stellar Drive was offline and the ship ran under the power of one of the ion-reformatting drives, at a sub-light speed of 0.78 SD. He calculated their estimated arrival at the blue wormhole fissure in a little less than thirty-six hours. This would allow for further repairs to be carried out, and for Obeya, Carter and the Stevenson sisters to catch up. The Eagle was in a pretty poor state and there was no way they should risk entering the wormhole with a ship in that condition. Hoskins would decide nearer the time as to whether they should wait for the Eagle to return or enter the wormhole immediately. Right now, his mind was clear; he would wait, but the pressure was building—more Kryl ships were being monitored on the long-range scans. If they were heading for the wormhole, then he would be through it and out the other side now rather than encounter them again.
The Eagle experienced further problems. Jake’s Rambo-esque style onslaught on the Kryl and the demolition of the Eagle’s inner access door, together with the close proximity laser attack on the Sabre, created serious flaws in the Eagle’s structural integrity. This was accepted, and Jake and Obeya took turns patching the blast areas while the other manned the pilot seat. The repairs were temporary and the Eagle’s hull continued to weaken from its original state.
The Sabre was disconnected manually and allowed to float free before scuttling remotely. She had done her job. They left Carla and Joely to recover from their ordeal in the main compartment, having first transferred all the Kryl bodies to the rear compartment to join Winterburn.
* * * *
The compartment was carbon-frozen to preserve the Kryl bodies during transit. Obeya asserted that now the Alpha forensic teams could examine the bodies even if they could not clearly talk to them.
The Eagle’s drive system was failing intermittently. Obeya discovered the Eagle had lost several hundred heat-shield tiles during the skirmish with the Sabre. Both of these new problems were irreparable, given the current circumstances. The drive system would req
uire cooling off and shutting down before a repair could be effected, and to fit replacement shields meant someone would have to manually affix new tiles from the outside. Both of these fixes were desirable, but impossible, given the relative movements of Kryl vessels on the scanner. The lack of heat shields meant travelling through the wormhole would be impossible, and the drive system problem meant a further reduction in velocity to under two hundred thousand kilometers per hour. At that rate it was going to take another twenty hours to reach the Halo 7.
Jake left Obeya in the cockpit and joined Carla in the main compartment.
“Where’s Joely?”
“She’s lying down in the containment cell. She’s finding this hard. She loved him you know.”
“He was a monster.”
“Yes, but she spent the last six years with him, constantly by his side. Inevitably, there was something between them. Remember, Winterburn was human when we first met him.”
Jake laughed. “With one important difference. He was probably sucking the life out of her when he fucked her..”
“Don’t be so coarse Jake. I don’t expect you to understand. Just tolerate her.”
“What about you, Carla? How are you?”
“I am okay, I suppose. I have to accept now that my actions were beyond my control. It’s difficult; I think it is going to take some time.”
“We have all the time in the world, Carla. Soon we will be back on Earth and it will be back to the Academy. I am sure we will just pick up where we left off.”
“You are forgetting two important factors. The Academy is hardly likely to let us back in just like that—and then there’s Steve.”
“Alpha looks after its own. Obeya believes that they will turn a blind eye to our collective wrongs, given the end result. As for Steve, what is the issue with him? He just has to accept that it’s you and me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself Jake. As I said, I need some time, and in any case, Steve doesn’t know we had a relationship.”
“What do you mean had? Carla what are you saying?”
“I am not saying anything. Look, Jake, I do love you but I need some time. There’s my sister and Steve and the academy. If we are allowed back in, will we be allowed to graduate this year? Please just back off for a while. Nothing has changed. I just need some space.”
Jake was about to respond but decided on reflection it was best just left for. “Okay. If you want me for anything, you let me know?”
Carla agreed. Jake rubbed her shoulder to show he understood, and then returned to the cockpit.
“Any changes?”
“No. Everything is holding steady. You know if we don’t meet the Halo 7, we are going to have to navigate the wormhole in this ship?” Obeya had been thinking.
“Yes, I do. Best not to think about it. For now, we are going forward and the wormhole is getting closer.”
* * * *
Cameron sat at a temporary workstation on the Pacific’ command bridge. From here, he could oversee the firing of the subspace charges, when the order was finally given for their delivery.
The battle continued on for a further twelve hours before the final Kryl ships were destroyed or headed for the blue wormhole to escape the Alpha-led offensive. Shenke presided over one of the most successful rear-guard battles in space history and, despite huge losses, he came out on top.
The cleaning-up exercise commenced immediately, and the various factions collected their dead and started to quantify the losses and identify the bodies. This grisly process was the other side of war, the unglamorous side, which every general must undertake. The communication of each loss to their loved ones must be made. Cameron was not accustomed to such horrific scenes. He felt sick to his stomach, but tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.
Shenke ordered the two squadrons of Rapiers that would undertake the delivery of the subspace weapons be made battle ready and the selected pilots rested. The selection process was rough. Volunteers had initially been requested, but after the CAG and medical teams filtered through the various applicants, only seven pilots were found fit to undertake the operation. The remainder were selected from the reserve lists, most of whom were there for a reason, i.e., because they weren’t considered fit for full active duty.
* * * *
One of the selected pilots was Acting Lieutenant Steve Costello. Steve was jubilant for this chance. This was what he did and the first chance he would have to truly make a difference. He had little time to reflect on his own personal losses. The general consensus had been that none of the vessels which passed through the wormhole to the Kryl galaxy would ever return. If Steve had thought otherwise, he would not have been able to preside over shutting the door and throwing away the key. No one would be able to get back, even if they were still alive.
The pre-flight briefing was still six hours away. Steve lay down on his bed and tried to sleep.
* * * *
The Halo 7 neared the wormhole fissure. Hoskins gave the order to slow to thrusters, as it slowly began to dawn on the crew of the Halo 7 exactly what had happened to those ‘disciples’ who were left behind when Hoskins made the decision to go after Winterburn. There were over one hundred ships, all completely still and all lifeless. Some still had power, others were split in two, but all were the same. The bodies each contained were completely lifeless.
The bridge lay silent as they took in the spectacle. It was Hoskins who broke the silence: “We must catalogue each vessel and identify the inhabitants. This will be their graveyard but we have to take some time for these people.”
Hoskins tried to reason that he acted under orders, but somehow it didn’t cut. He made the wrong decision. He should have been here for these people. This massacre could have been prevented. The least he could do was give them some time, while they still could. How long did they have?
The gathering Kryl armada showed on the short-range scanners. They were not moving forward; he presumed they were preparing the fleet for an advance. Hoskins was clear in his mind. If they advanced, he would enter the fissure immediately. Obeya would have to find her own way home.
The Eagle was being tolerant and held steady at one hundred ninety-five thousand kilometers per hour. Jake had the comm and rechecked the various system integrity levels for the tenth time today. It was 11.00 hours and, according to both the NAVCOM and Jake’s manual calculations, they should rendezvous with the Halo 7 in approximately three hours. He monitored the scanners closely. He was aware of the buildup of Kryl warships on the horizon and he knew the defenseless Eagle could be extinguished in seconds should the Kryl elect to do so. He just needed to keep going and concentrate on getting the ship back to safety.
Obeya was in the co-pilot seat and was in a pensive mood. She had just spoken to Jonathan Hoskins again. The conversation was brief and to the point, for fear of identifying their position. Jonathan made it clear he would leave without them if he must, but would do everything possible to hold off. Obeya felt sick to her stomach. Why had she agreed to go on this stupid mission? All she could do was wait and let fate make its choice.
The identification process was complete. Two hundred thirty-six more lost souls and Hoskins blamed himself for every one of them. He must save those still with him. He would reflect on all the losses attributable to his actions later.
The Kryl fleet moved slowly forward, and he knew he could not wait much longer. Obeya was still some forty-five minutes away. He had a hard decision to make. If he waited for her, the Kryl fleet would be on top of them; but if he left her, it would surely be the last time he ever saw her. His crew were expecting him to give the order and Jacques, in particular, looked edgy and impatient. He just needed to hold on a little longer.
“Jonathan.” Jacques had tried speaking to him and he had not heard him. “Can we take a few moments in your ready room?”
Hoskins put his hand to his face and sighed. “No. I know what you want to talk to me about, and I appreciate your attempt at diplomacy.
We have to leave.”
“It needn’t be. We could dispatch a Rapier to them. They could then leave the Eagle and come through the wormhole in the Rapier. We would be gone, but they would stand a chance in the blue wormhole in a ship that is not falling apart. We send it remotely and they can pull it in via their tractor beam. It’s a risky strategy, but Obeya is a great pilot. That would give them the chance they need.”
Hoskins had not thought of that. It could work. The Rapier might be destroyed by the Kryl before they had a chance to enter the wormhole, and yet it was still the best option.
“Okay, I agree. See to it personally, Number One, and let them know in advance of our plans. I will make the Halo 7 ready for entry to the fissure.”
A few minutes later, an unmanned Rapier 7 took off and jumped to SD velocity. It headed for a rendezvous with the Eagle and quickly made up for lost time.
On the Halo 7 command bridge, Jonathan Hoskins and his crew were ready. The ship’s diagnostics reported structural failings, but they were small and there was no choice. They must go, and Hoskins was ready.
“Take us forward, helm. Manual control, steady as she goes.”
“Aye, sir. Steady as she goes.”
The Halo 7 thrusters moved the Battle Cruiser forward. The ion drive engaged, and the ship accelerated to sub-light cruise velocity. They entered the fissure at 13.47 p.m.
Just two minutes later, a group of ten Kryl fighters followed the Halo 7 into the wormhole.
* * * *
“They are sending us a what?”
“A Rapier. Remotely. We will pull it in and board. It will be a tight cabin, but this gives us a chance. Can you get Carla and Joely suited up and get the hatch open? I’ll slow us down and pull her in. It should be only a couple of minutes. Thanks, Jake.”
The usual docking clamps were damaged by the removal of the wrecked Sabre earlier. They had no choice but to utilize the rarely-used cargo doors, which opened upwards and covered a third of the ship’s overall surface. The Eagle was designed originally as a payload carrier, but the majority were converted to carry troops or passengers. The main passenger compartment remained protected and pressurized while the cargo doors were open, but it was still standard protocol to suit up whenever the doors were open. Jake, already suited, pulled his helmet on and pressurized his suit.
