Shadow Space Chronicles 1: The Fallen Race

by Kal Spriggs

  “I know, Doko, it was a waste. It was worth a try though,” Lucius said to his frowning XO, who manned the missile station.

  “A lucky shot out here would have been nice. Continue to close the range. Hold missile fire until Plan Alpha One is in effect.”

  The range ticked down. They were inside the Chxor targeting range now. Any moment now…

  “Multiple missile launches, Captain!” Lieutenant Palmer somehow managed to drawl even when he was tense. “I count eight launches, sir.” The man claimed he hailed from Earth. Lucius suspected the Lieutenant feigned the drawl.

  Lucius kept an eye on Lieutenant Beeson, who manned the defensive weapons. Eight missiles was everything the Chxor could launch. Lucius felt confident that the Lieutenant could handle the handful. If even one of them made it through, though, people would die. Beeson had proved himself in a simulator.

  Real life was something else altogether.

  A few minutes later, he realized he needn’t have worried. Lieutenant Beeson shot down all the missiles well clear of the War Shrike. The next eight died well clear of the battleship as well.

  The Chxor dreadnoughts held much larger magazines, but they didn’t use their tubes as if they felt confident of resupply. After Beeson picked off the third flight of missiles, the Chxor ceased fire.

  That, at least, made sense. The missiles would be more dangerous to the War Shrike from the rear, rather than from head on. From the rear, they wouldn’t have to worry about getting missiles to flank the defense screen.

  The enemy held their fire. The range ticked down. The Chxor main battery would have the range on him for a total of just over eighty seconds. His own main battery had greater range, which extended his own engagement time. That would give the War Shrike time for two extra shots.

  The main battery of a five-class dreadnought was twenty four colossal fusion cannons, on six turrets that rotated to present all in a massive broadside, or twelve shots from the bow or the stern. They’d have range for two shots from each of those massive cannons. Lucius’s crew would have time for four shots with their own longer-ranged heavy exotic particle cannons, and only two shots from the light EPCs. Unfortunately, the War Shrike only mounted three turrets, each turret containing four of the long range cannons. Also, unfortunately, the EPCs didn’t have the all out punch of the enemy weapons.

  He looked over at Doko, a slight smile on his face, “Remember the battle at Endway?”

  Doko groaned, “When Admiral Gavetti commanded?”

  Lucius frowned, “Was that his name?”

  “Yeah, he didn’t last long, did he?” Doko snorted. “Wasn’t it that final hit on his ship that went through to hit us?”

  Lucius grimaced, “Yeah, that would be the one.” He stared at the screen, “Last chance to turn aside.”

  No one on the bridge said anything. The option now to break off and clear weapons range tempted him. But if the Chxor made it to Faraday unharmed, they would have time to build up too strong an infrastructure for any possible counterattack to work.

  “Deploy chaff, commence jamming.” Lucius commanded.

  A moment later, the War Shrike disappeared in a ball of static, surrounded by electromagnetic fuzz. The enemy probably would lose tracking, if only for a moment. The enemy's firefly systems aboard the cruisers kicked in a moment later. This time, at least, the enemy jamming did no good. Lieutenant Palmer had managed to not only put recon probes above and below the Chxor formation, but he had one stealthily coasting inside it.

  “In range, firing now.” Doko’s voice was calm, precise. It was the voice of a surgeon in surgery. The ship thrummed as the EPCs fired.

  Lieutenant Daniel Beeson was somewhat less restrained, “Hit, multiple hits, Captain!”

  Lucius watched as debris intermixed with enemy chaff. Doko fired again, followed by Lieutenant Beeson. Again, debris blossomed from multiple hits. The Chxor fired for the first time, the colossal guns and the dreadnought’s secondary batteries fired on the War Shrike.

  Jamming scrambled radar and chaff distorted the battlefield. Doko, at the controls for the main battery, was hunched over his console. Forty-eight colossal fusion cannons fired a second time.

  The restraining harness bit into Lucius’s shoulders and the universe spun for a horrid instant. A moment later, the distant thud of pressure doors slamming shut gave ominous note of damage taken.

  Lieutenant Meridan looked up, “Captain, direct hit on missile tube three, plasma mount six, and life support in section F is gone.”

  Lucius waited for the list to go on, but that was it.

  They were out of range now, and Doko looked up, “She really is one lucky ship, Captain.”

  Lucius nodded. The loss of a missile tube hurt. Better there than on the missile magazine. A glancing blow, he guessed, partially turned by the defense screen, rather than the huge hole in the side of the ship he’d feared.

  Well, not yet anyway.

  As he drew away from the first group of dreadnoughts, Lucius gave a mental sigh of relief. He wore his command face. It wouldn’t do to let his people think that a mere two dreadnoughts had their Captain nervous.

  Damage reports came in. Lucius gave orders for repairs, but half his mind was on the upcoming clash, while some of it evaluated the sensor data that Lieutenant Palmer delivered. Ghastly casualties reported in the sectors hit. That one hit had killed forty people outright, leaving another fifteen wounded in the sick bay. Most of the dead came from the actual impact. They, like the number three missile tube, were gone, vaporized completely. The bunkrooms and fuel tanks had taken the rest of the damage. They didn’t take any of Lucius’ crew with them.

  Of the enemy, Doko did an excellent job. It looked like four good hits on one dreadnought, which leaked a lot of water and oxygen, sure signs that pressurized cabins took serious hits. One of the cruisers also leaked quite a bit and its emissions drop suggested that it lost one of its power plants.

  “That’ll give them something to think about,” Doko said with satisfaction.

  The first force of dreadnoughts finally passed out of missile range, even as the final damage reports concluded. The Chxor saved their missiles. Perhaps they worried they might face a missile engagement with planetary defenses. They could realize that the planet would not put up a fight.

  Now the range closed with the second group. These came closer at a slower rate, for the Chxor had actually reversed directions and traveled a similar course to his own now, albeit at a slower velocity which allowed him to overtake them. The commander of their force would expect him to break away and avoid such a confrontation. The War Shrike’s luck in the last engagement could only go so far. Up close, he wouldn’t stand a chance against those two dreadnoughts. But he maintained his course.

  Unlike the Chxor, he had sensor probes, and he could see what was behind them quite clearly.

  ***

  Kleigh typed in more notes and commands. He took his time and felt secure in the knowledge that victory for the Chxor was at hand once again.

  True, the battleship had damaged Kleigh’s command ship, as well as Dreadnought 510114. Damage happened in combat, it was illogical to expect some kind of gain without loss. And while it would take time to repair those damaged sections, they would have time.

  Also true, the enemy battleship had much better aim, a situation unfortunately familiar to the Chxor. It was faster to produce a number of identical ships, and much easier to produce them with simpler command systems. Fire often enough and the guns would hit.

  As the Chxor had hit the enemy this time. Granted, a lower percentage of hits than Chxor gunnery normally had, but at such range, that was acceptable. That was not to say that those gunnery stations that missed wouldn’t be punished. In fact, Kleigh made special note to execute one member from each station that hadn’t scored a hit. It would incite them to train harder.

  The enemy battleship altered course now, but only slightly. Kleigh knew from previous engagements the enemy had the cap
ability of much greater accelerations and maneuvers. That battleship could nearly match the acceleration of the fighters it carried.

  Still, there was no reason not to use an opponent’s irrational decisions against them. Kleigh ordered the second group of dreadnoughts to match the maneuver. He noted that the new course would take the ships even closer to a small, rocky planet.

  Perhaps the enemy ship hoped to retreat behind the cover of the planet when it took excessive damage. A sensor reading also showed that the fighters finally broke off their futile attack on the damaged cruiser. They raced to meet the intercepting dreadnoughts. Had they not expended their ammunition before or had they reloaded instead of their harassment the cruiser with their main guns, Squadron Commander Kleigh might have found them of greater concern. Neither of those were the case, obviously, else they would have used their missiles earlier.

  Inevitably, the Human fighter pilots engaged in pointless activities. They allowed their eagerness and aggressive nature to get the better of them. That weakness made them useless in battle. Now at least, he wouldn’t have to chase the fighters down over time, but could instead rely on them to die with the battleship.

  Victory would come to the Chxor once again and very soon now.

  ***

  As the two dreadnoughts and their cruiser escort drew closer, Lucius breathed a long sigh of relief. He looked over at Doko, “It looks like things might work out.” The enemy task group lay in the box now, no matter where they maneuvered, he had the Chxor pinned.

  They’d been in missile range for some time, but both sides held their fire. The missiles were much more effective at close range, with less time to react to the launch.

  Because he approached head on, the enemy dreadnoughts would have ‘only’ their forward turrets in position to fire. He had the option now to cut across their bow, and fire both of his heavy turrets, and to a Chxor, that would have made sense, or at least, as much sense as this situation would grant.

  Instead, he kept an almost dead on course. Bow to bow, with the escorting cruisers to intercept his fire, he wouldn’t be able to do much damage until he passed through the enemy formation. Neither he nor the Chxor imagined that his ship would last under the withering fire that close to those behemoth ships. The ridiculous charge into that formation seemed inevitable,

  Lucius waited a few seconds more, and then spoke, “Signal to the Gebneyr , execute Plan Alpha.”

  The Chxor had just passed a small, rocky, unremarkable planet. It had no atmosphere, no moons, and a rocky, cratered surface. The Faraday colony never gave it anything more than a numeric for a name. However, a planet didn’t need to be remarkable to cast a significant sensor shadow.

  If Lucius possessed a fleet, he couldn’t have hidden it in that shadow.

  He didn’t possess a fleet, he had the Gebneyr.

  The battlecruiser rounded the planet behind the Chxor formation just as the three squadrons of fighters reached their optimal firing range for missiles.

  The Gebneyr and the three squadrons had a perfect firing solution. The four cruisers lay in the front of the formation, ahead of the dreadnoughts. They provided no protection to any attack from astern. The Chxor, in maneuvering to intercept the War Shrike, had left their clouds of chaff behind. They hadn’t yet deployed new chaff because neither side would throw away missiles at this range. The War Shrike hadn’t drawn close enough for the main weapons batteries yet. Both dreadnoughts’ jamming focused forward, towards the apparent enemy’s sensors. The fighter squadrons separated from the War Shrike and apparently without missiles did not constitute a threat.

  The fighters had reloaded their missiles earlier. An older freighter served as their reloading platform. Thirty-six ship killer missiles lanced out from the three squadrons.

  The Gebneyr was a different story. It lay only five thousand kilometers behind the two dreadnoughts, well within range within its primary and secondary and tertiary weapons batteries.

  It also mounted four missile tubes and external missile racks which allowed it to fire twenty four Pilum missiles in one opening salvo.

  The six shots from the primary battery and the six from the secondary battery slammed into the rear of the nearer Chxor dreadnought. Twelve more lighter beams from the tertiary battery quickly followed. The beams punched into the rear of the dreadnought, well aimed at such close ranges.

  No ship could take such fire at such close range.

  Engine pods ripped apart. Power plants detonated as beams ripped through control systems and containment fields. Turrets and gun mounts blew off, twirling off into space.

  The aft end of the dreadnought dissolved into nothing more than shredded wreckage.

  The other dreadnought still had its rear mounted weapons and sensors, and fought to get a lock on the battlecruiser. The Chxor technicians had just enough warning to see a total of sixty fusion warhead missiles fired from short range at the two dreadnoughts.

  The dreadnoughts tertiary battery could engage missiles, fighters, and light vessels. They had no time for the sensors to gain a lock on the inbound missiles. The gun crews of the X-ray lasers fired blindly at the inbound, evasive missiles.

  Fifty nine missiles survived to engage the two dreadnoughts.

  The chain of explosions enveloped the two ships. The two dreadnoughts disappeared from Lucius’ sensors beneath the massive energy release from those missiles.

  When the radiation cleared, thirty seconds later, nothing remained where the two dreadnoughts once lay besides rapidly expanding clouds of superheated gas.

  The bridge of the War Shrike erupted in cheers and Lucius felt a broad smile spread on his own face. “One half of the enemy’s firepower destroyed,” Lucius said. The remaining cruisers of this force were essentially unarmed. Lucius could alter course and destroy the vessels at his leisure. The ships were slow and, without the guns of the dreadnoughts, were no longer a threat.

  Lucius pondered letting the vessels go, but discarded the thought as the ships continued their courses, the Chxor commanders unable to comprehend the destruction of their force.

  “Captain, I’m receiving a signal from the damaged Chxor cruiser.” Lieutenant Palmer said, his drawl harsh. “It’s a human.”

  Lucius frowned. How had a human got aboard one of the ships, much less the one which had fallen out of the Chxor formation? He pulled up the signal on one of his screens.

  A woman in a battered and bloodied ship suit stared back at him from the screen. She had removed the helmet from the suit, to reveal brown eyes and a shaven scalp. She also carried a heavy rifle, slung across her shoulder. Behind her, he saw two other armed humans drag a Chxor corpse off the bridge. “Captain, we wish to signal our surrender, and ask for asylum with you. We mutinied against the Chxor.” She waited, clearly nervous.

  Lucius looked at her for a long moment. “I hadn’t realized the Chxor used human crews.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. When she finally spoke he could see the tendons stand out along her jaw, “They draft people from every world they control. With them, it’s either learn your assigned duties or be put out the airlock as useless. Most of the cruisers have significant numbers of human crew.”

  A dozen questions flitted through his mind, but he pushed them back. “Did you take the ship intact, and can you pilot it through shadow space?” That was the most important issue.

  “Yes,” she answered. “A lot of the other crew went along with us, in the mutiny. Even some of the lower Chxor officers.”

  “I’m detaching a shuttle to your vessel. I’ll have Marines to take charge of any prisoners and some crew to lend assistance.”

  “There aren’t any prisoners.” Her answer was coldly satisfied.

  Lucius suppressed a shiver at what he saw in her dark eyes. There was anger, and hurt, and a terrible desire for revenge. He wondered what horror it would be to live beneath the Chxor. Never mind that, he had a hard enough time sleeping as it was. He really didn’t want to know what burned behi
nd those eyes.

  “Well, the Marines can help you take charge. Who is the acting Captain?”

  She shrugged, wearily. “I don’t know.”

  “Who is in charge?” Lucius demanded.

  She looked around, clearly in an attempt to force her brain to work. “Matty was, but he’s dead. Alice took over then, but they killed her when we stormed the bridge.” She stared off into space for a long moment. “I guess I am.”

  “And who are you?”

  “Computer Technician Seventeen,” she answered instantly, then shook her head, “That’s what my rank was with the Chxor. I’m Lauren Kelly.”

  “Well then, Lauren, you keep things together over there, and we’ll detach some people to give you a hand.” He cut the connection, then spent a moment in thought. He opened another connection. “Major Proscia.”

  “Yes, sir?” The connection had no visual, which suggested the marine was on the move.

  “I’ve a mission for you and a question.”

  “Go ahead sir. My men are helping out with damage control, but they’ve got everything under hand at the moment.”

  “One of the Chxor crews mutinied. I need a security detachment to help them get things in order. Also, I was wondering what your opinion is of fighting a boarding operation on the remaining cruisers.”

  There was a long pause as the Major considered. “Sir, I’ll need more people. Fighting aboard four ships… we haven’t the manpower for it.”

  “From what I understand, the other crews are made up of conscripts, with a lot to hate about their officers.” Lucius responded.

  “That’s another matter altogether then sir.” The Marine officer answered. “I’ve boarded one of those cruisers once, any fighting will be rough, the Chxor won’t go down without a fight. If you can give me enough time and the Marines aboard the Gebneyr, I think we can lead the crews to a successful mutiny. It will be bloody, but, if the crews are mutinous already, then things should fall into place.”