by Tori Harris
“We have detected no shields being used by the Terran vessels. Are you certain that they are so equipped?” she asked with a sidelong, suspicious glance.
“I am. But I can say no more on the subject for the moment.”
“Contacts!” the tactical officer interrupted. “All seventeen Terran vessels have returned, sir. They have broken into six groups. Each group appears to be headed for one of our Rusalovs. No sign of fighters thus far.”
“Well, well,” Sarafi drawled with a savage smile, “their formations look strikingly similar to their first attack, do they not? I will say this for the Humans, what they lack in experience, they seem to more than make up for with reckless courage. Comm, signal the battleships with a reminder that the fire control systems for their main guns will be under the control of the Gunov’s AI for the remainder of the battle. Whenever possible, they should also concentrate their secondary weapon systems on the targets designated by the Flag.”
“Commander, you will direct the cannonade from the Rusalovs while I manage our three Gresavs. Your first priority is to remove Terran vessels from the fight. It matters not if they remain largely intact. Shift your fire as quickly as possible after you disable one of their number.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And we shall begin,” he said, staring intently at the tactical situation display, “with this one.”
Chapter 8
TFS Theseus, Location Dagger
(3.3 light years from Earth)
As soon as there was sufficient distance between the hulls of the Theseus and the Keturah, Ensign Fisher executed a maximum performance turn to place the stricken Resistance BD cruiser dead astern, then once again pushed the destroyer’s Cannae sublight engines to emergency power. With his situational awareness increasing once again in the aftermath of the near disastrous collision, he adjusted the ship’s departure vector to place the damaged enemy cruiser between their position and the now distant Baldev. For the moment, his tactic seemed to be working — the battleship had yet to resume its energy weapons fire.
“Helm, keep increasing the distance to Charlie 4 just in case, then maintain course until we’re out of Bravo 1’s grav beam and can make another tactical C-jump. Thirty light seconds again is fine. Execute as soon as possible.”
“Aye, sir. Projecting six one seconds to C-Jump on this heading.”
“Captain, we detected some type of projectile launch from the dorsal side of Charlie 4 at about the same time the Baldev’s missile hit her drive section,” Lieutenant Lee reported from the Science and Engineering console. “Based on its emissions, I’m betting it was one of her reactor’s containment units. In fact, I’d have to say that it was probably all of them at once since we’ve seen only minimal power levels from her since then.”
“Good catch, Lieutenant. It almost had to be. Otherwise, I don’t think there is any possible way she could have avoided a breach. I’d say that’s another major improvement over the earlier cruisers based on what we saw happen to Charlie 2. Really extraordinary engineering when you think about it …” Prescott said, shaking his head. “Status report, please.”
“Moderate damage to our dorsal armor plating, sir. The damage looks pretty ugly on the monitors, but it’s largely superficial from what we can tell so far. We lost two close-in weapon system turrets and one emitter from our primary dorsal energy weapons array. Otherwise, all systems are still in the green. No hull breaches reported and no injuries reported.”
“Tactical?”
“Badger 21 Flight has their hands full with the Baldev’s fighters, Captain,” Schmidt replied. “There are now four six enemy fighters in their general vicinity, so, for the moment, they’re outnumbered almost two to one.”
“What about Badger 1 Flight? Aren’t they assisting?”
“Badger 22’s twelve fighters are headed that way now, but I’m having some trouble locating all of Badger 1 Flight. I think some of them must have transitioned … stand by.” There was an uncomfortable silence as Lieutenant Commander Schmidt confirmed and reconfirmed the distressing information being displayed on his console.
“Is there a problem, Schmidt?”
“Yes, sir, there is. Badger 1 Flight is reporting a combat ineffective status.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“I’m showing only one three of their original three six fighters. It looks like they are also trying to distance themselves from Bravo 1. If we adjust our course slightly, we can intercept.”
Prescott swore silently to himself at the realization that a significant portion of the forces under his command had simply ceased to exist without his immediate knowledge. Glancing at the tactical plot, he noted that the same information Schmidt had just reported was also reflected in the order of battle summary, but it really wasn’t much of a surprise that no one on Theseus’ bridge had noticed during the heat of combat. The primary purpose of the tactical plot was to highlight the threats deemed most urgent by the ship’s AI — not to provide a strategic-level view of the battlespace. He also knew that the CIC duty staff aboard Admiral Patterson’s flagship (if not Admiral Patterson himself) were monitoring every aspect of the battle and would not hesitate to redirect his actions if they deemed it necessary. Think — focus — respond! he raged inwardly, furious that his mind was already busily convincing itself that their deaths had nothing to do with any actions he had taken … or had failed to take.
“Lieutenant Dubashi, are we detecting any emergency locator beacon transmissions?”
“No, sir.”
“Go ahead and try contacting Badger 1 — text only. See if they require immediate assistance and ask them to open a comm channel if able.”
It took only a few seconds for Captain Zhukov to reply.
“Theseus, Zhukov.”
The fact that Captain Zhukov was no longer using his flight’s “Badger 1” call sign made the hair on the back of Prescott’s neck stand on end.
“Zhukov, Theseus-Actual. What can we do to help, Captain?”
“I have four ships in need of an exfil as soon as possible, Captain. Shortly after we transitioned in to take out the missiles targeting the Theseus, we triggered some sort of anti-access weapon system. It used a type of fragmentation warhead that overwhelmed our shields. We lost most of our fighters before we even realized that we were under attack. I had also brought along the six RPSVs you assigned to our flight with the intention of positioning them for use in much the same manner as the weapon that attacked us. Unfortunately, all six of them were destroyed as well. I was left with a total of six fully operational and seven critically damaged 373s. I sent the three damaged ships that still had operable C-Drives back to their carriers, but the remaining four are marginal at best. We have been escorting them out of the immediate area as quickly as possible, but I fear at least one of them will end up needing to eject at some point. Can Theseus accommodate four Reapers in her hangar bay?”
With everything else running through his mind at the moment, Prescott simply looked at Commander Reynolds for an answer to Zhukov’s question.
“I think so, yes,” she nodded, “but we’ll have to recover them one at a time and get their wings stowed so that we can move each one out of the way for the next. I doubt we’ll be able to also embark all twenty-four … well … eighteen of our Hunters, but they can C-Jump back to Earth on their own, if needed. Captain Zhukov, how long can your pilots survive if they have to eject?”
“Indefinitely … in theory at least. Our survival pods are equipped with a dedicated power supply and we have sufficient water and rations available to last several days at least.”
“And the status of the pods on the four damaged fighters?” Prescott asked, understanding from personal experience how unpleasant it would be for the pilots if they were forced to remain inside them for an extended period of time.
“All are in the green so far,” Zhukov replied.
“Alright, Dmitri, we’re going to alter course and attempt to rendezvous wi
th your flight. Since our encounter with Charlie 4, however, I think the only reason we haven’t been taking fire from the Baldev is that she doesn’t have a clear line of fire at us without potentially finishing off the cruiser. So when we change course to meet you, we may draw their fire again. If that happens, we won’t be able to recover your fighters until after we finish off Bravo 1 … it’s just too risky for your pilots. Have your damaged ships stay together and continue on course at their best possible speed. If someone has to punch out, remind them to activate their locator beacon. I really can’t see Captain Yagani firing on survival pods or defenseless ships, but it will be up to the remaining pilots to decide whether they stay with the downed pilot or continue on course. One way or another, someone will pick them up soon, and with any luck, it will be us. In the meantime, we need you and your remaining operational fighters back in the fight. It looks as though Waffer might have a fight on his hands.”
“Understood, Captain. I will relay your instructions and we will be on our way momentarily. One last thing … after we were attacked, we destroyed the two anti-access weapons pods that hit us. We then completed a thorough scan of the immediate area out to a radius of about five light minutes with our active sensors. At the moment, I do not believe the Resistance ships have any more of these weapons pods deployed, but please be aware that they are small and difficult to detect. Based on their location, I assume the ones we encountered were most likely released by the first group of fighters we destroyed earlier.”
“Thank you, Captain Zhukov. Will do. Prescott out.”
“Commander, the longer this fight goes on, the more the situation favors the Resistance. We’ve got to do something decisive and get ourselves in a better situation to be able to handle their reinforcements before they arrive.”
“Yes, sir,” Reynolds replied. “Our point location attacks have been the only truly effective tactic so far. Another high speed run at Bravo 1’s drive section might at least force them to drop their supplemental shields. Frankly, I think that’s still our only option at the moment.”
“Agreed. Fisher, time to expected C-Jump, please,” Prescott asked.
“Zero eight seconds, sir.”
“Belay that C-Jump for the moment, please. I assume you also have a course plotted to pick up our damaged fighters?”
“Yes, sir. Ready on your mark.”
“Very well, let’s try it. If we start taking fire, correct back to the original course and put Charlie 4 between us and Bravo 1 again. Any questions?”
“No, sir, but the farther we get from Charlie 4, the harder it’s going to be to stay out of their line of sight. I think the only reason it has worked so far is because Bravo 1’s supplemental aft shields are preventing them from maneuvering.”
“That may be true, but it was exceptional thinking on your part and may well have saved our collective arses. Besides, we’ll take whatever advantage we can get at this point. Execute your course correction, please.”
“Thank you, sir. Aye, sir.”
As Fisher entered the required commands to alter Theseus’ course, the ship’s bow slowly rose above her former flight path in response while simultaneously easing into a slight turn to port. It took only moments for the Baldev to respond with a renewed hail of energy weapons fire streaming downrange to slam into the destroyer’s aft shields.
“Correcting back, Captain,” Fisher reported immediately. “We are also free of Bravo 1’s grav beam. C-Jump range 100.4 light years and stable.”
“Understood. Execute your C-Jump when ready. Dubashi, inform Captain Zhukov that we are unable to attempt a recovery mission at this time and will be transitioning for another attack on Bravo 1.”
“Aye, sir,” both officers replied in unison.
The message from Captain Yagani was clear — he would allow the damaged remnants of Badger 1 Flight to slowly make their way out of the combat zone unmolested, but ships that were still in the fight were fair game and subject to immediate attack for as long as the battle continued. For the moment at least, all damaged ships, both friendly and hostile, were simply on their own.
SCS Gunov, Location Crossbow
(5.93x1011 km from Location Dagger)
“Tactical and Helm workstations …” Commodore Sarafi announced.
“Yes, sir,” both Wek officers announced as one.
“I have designated the first formation of three Terran ships that we shall attack. Helm, you are to coordinate with our two sister ships and ensure that they are able to maintain their positions in formation. The AIs should assist you to some extent, but as the lead helmsman, formation integrity is largely your responsibility. Understood?”
“Yes, Commodore.”
“Very good. Tactical, each time we attack one of the ships in their formation, make your target the starboard ship. As I instructed Commander Freyda, your primary goal is to remove Terran ships from the battle, not destroy them completely … not yet, at least,” he smiled. “I will assist you in determining when to move on to the next target. Whenever possible, I want you to attack from either above or below their flight path until I tell you otherwise. After we hit them a time or two, we should be able to assess the effectiveness of their shields and adjust our tactics, as required. Any questions from either of you?”
“No, Commodore.”
“Then let us get about the business of avenging our comrades, shall we? Execute your attack.”
“Aye, sir,” both officers answered intently.
With the Gunov and her two consorts currently in a climbing turn to port relative to the other Resistance warships, the helm officer noted the position of their first target, then began the process of reversing their turn while smoothly increasing their angle of attack through the vertical. The three Gresav-class destroyers continued their maneuver until completing what their Human counterparts might refer to as a modified Cuban Eight. All three ships then rapidly accelerated, heading towards a location in space projected to be almost directly above their targets once they reached the optimum range for their energy weapons.
For her part, Commander Freyda was working at a near frenzied pace at her Command workstation. While her role of directing the fire of the task force’s six Rusalov-class battleships seemed simple enough, issuing the series of commands required to properly coordinate their attack required more time than she actually had available — particularly with the Terran warships rapidly closing on their remaining forces. After what seemed to her like an interminable period of time had passed, and during which she noticed Commodore Sarafi glancing impatiently in her direction at least twice, she finally completed the long series of required tasks and issued the order to open fire.
Having remained in active service for over one hundred Terran years past their expected lifetimes, the Rusalovs were, in many ways, relics from a bygone age. Designed by Wek engineers before energy weapons had reached a level of power output and reliability deemed worthy of their most powerful warships, the Rusalovs’ main armaments had originally included traditional, two-stage gas-powered main guns only marginally more advanced than those relying solely on gunpowder to launch their projectiles. While effective enough for short range space combat and planetary bombardment, the weapons could not propel their shells at sufficient speeds to eliminate the need for explosive warheads. In fact, these weapons had more in common with Terran ocean-going battleship guns dating back to the early twentieth century and beyond than they did modern, kinetic energy weapons. As the Sajeth Collective expanded, however, their designers gained access to increasingly advanced technology, and steadily upgraded existing ship designs to take advantage of the corresponding improvements in weapon systems. For the Rusalov-class battleships, this decades-long progression ultimately led to an interesting hodgepodge of systems — anachronisms extended and enhanced to ultimately become some of the most powerful ever produced by the shipyards of Graca.
Perhaps the most significant upgrade, and the one most responsible for keeping the Rusalovs active
in the Sajeth Collective fleet, was the replacement of the ships’ original main guns with electromagnetic projectile launchers that the Wek now referred to as simply “kinetics.” In spite of their “modernization,” the weapons still hurled massive shells at distant enemy targets — and at over eight hundred kilograms each, the projectiles rivaled the largest ever fired by seagoing battleships. Once fired, the Rusalovs’ self-guided rounds proceeded downrange at a comparatively glacial pace of only five thousand kilometers per second — technically placing them squarely in the archaic “hypervelocity” category. What they lacked in speed, however, the weapons did their best to make up for in terms of mass, accuracy, and the addition of a nuclear warhead approximately five times as powerful as those carried by most Sajeth Collective anti-ship missiles. While the Wek engineers knew all too well that speed trumped mass when it came to kinetics weapon design, the huge guns were still deemed viable. Ironically, this was partially due to the ongoing development of a defensive system still in the early stages of development when the battleships were first commissioned — shields.
In the years that followed, Wek shield systems had proven so effective that point defenses had been all but eliminated from most warship classes. The same was true of “small caliber” kinetics — such as the railguns favored by their Human rivals. This was in large part due to the practical difficulties associated with allowing steady streams of projectiles to pass through the shields on the way to their targets. This problem had been relatively easy to overcome for energy weapons by coordinating the phase and frequency of the beam emitters used. For kinetic energy weapons, however, the solution turned out to be much less exotic: fire fewer rounds and drop the shields for each. The Rusalovs’ main guns were, after all, only capable of firing at the leisurely rate of one round every thirty seconds. Accordingly, the designers had taken the eminently practical approach of switching off specific field emitters during the forty microseconds it took for a shell to pass through the space normally occupied by the vessels’ shields. In an effort to prevent an enemy from predicting the precise instant when this would occur, the ships’ AIs inserted random intervals of time between successive salvos. Otherwise, the mighty battleships relied on an impressive three meters of armor to render their enemies’ attacks a bitter exercise in futility — or so they hoped.
