E.D.F Chronicles - E.D.F resurgent

by Ian. J. Smethurst

  As the carrier reeled, the remaining god-hammer bombers seized their chance. Each launched their deadly cobra anti-ship missiles at the Krenaran vessels command super-structure, multiple warheads surged towards their target, their specially modified shape slammed through its thick outer hull armour and then detonated in terrifically bright explosions, sending huge gouts of flame blossoming across the entire command centre of the enemy carrier.

  The few surviving fighters and bombers veered away and re-formed ready for the return journey back to the Hermes. Behind them the devastation caused by the missile strike was plain to see, explosions continued to burst apart the command hull of the beleaguered carrier, before the entire structure tore itself apart in a bright fireball, sending a miniature shockwave and debris scattering in all directions, the damage was finally too much for the stricken Krenaran vessel and in an almighty explosion the devastated remains of the ship tore itself apart, a gigantic blinding fireball erupted flinging wreckage in all directions, some of which colliding with nearby ships. A shockwave burst forth which threatened to engulf everything around it as well as the fleeing fighters and bombers.

  Two nearby stealth ships were caught by this massive conflagration and they too were torn asunder by the impact of the giant shockwave and their own carrier’s huge hull fragments smashing into them.

  The Krenarans reeled; one of their prized carriers had been destroyed by the terrans. The entire fleet seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, suddenly unsure of themselves.

  The newly upgraded Danitza class battleships Defiant and Vengeance seized upon the brief opportunity and opened fire with their punishing long range high power laser batteries, decimating half a dozen stealth ships unlucky enough to be caught in the withering firestorm.

  The Krenarans fought back after their devastating loss, as a multitude of torpedoes smashed into another Danitza, tearing apart its sloped fontal section and ripping its docking arm and delicate plasma drive emitters to pieces. Flames burst out from the multiple breaches, and the massive lumbering battleship looked stricken with the damage it had taken.

  The flow of battle ebbed to and fro for what seemed like an eternity to Michael, explosions lit up areas of space everywhere, the ruined and drifting hulls of destroyed vessels now littered the area and were a deadly hazard. Several times Eldathar had to bank the ship sharply to avoid incoming debris or the drifting hull of an E.D.F, Solarian or Krenaran vessel as the casualties mounted on both sides.

  The fractured hull of a Jefferson class heavy destroyer listed as the Liberty swooped below it, another Danitza class battleship burned brightly in the distance, its hull pock marked with the blackened craters of torpedo impacts and the deep gouge marks of particle cannon hits.

  Two stealth ships shot past just above the Liberty, their speed far too fast for the floating myriad of battlefield detritus all around them, the captured former stealth ship pursued them. The enemy ships weaved to and fro, through the debris of devastated shipping.

  “Ready fusion cannon,” Michael ordered as the Krenaran ships continued to weave and zigzag their way through the debris field.

  “We have target lock,” Lieutenant Jones announced.

  “Fire!” Michael shouted; fist clenched.

  The intensely bright incandescent blue beam lanced out past the destroyed form of an Alexander class medium cruiser, bathing its crumpled hull in a bright electric blue light. The beam tore into the Krenaran ships engines, blasting them apart instantly. The ship careered into a giant piece of hull plating, and then crumpled in a kind of concertina effect before exploding brightly.

  The second ship continued to dodge and weave, trying desperately to shake off the far deadlier Liberty, but to no avail, as three high energy torpedoes slammed into the rear of the enemy vessel, it plunged headlong into the blackened ruin of a Washington class heavy cruiser; turning the charred ruin into a flaming inferno once again.

  The Liberty continued on its course as up ahead hid the monstrous form of another of the Krenaran command carriers.

  Eldathar banked the ship so that it flew between the blackened wrecks of two Jefferson class heavy destroyers which drifted nearby one another. The Liberty levelled out once it had passed the hulks and continued towards its target.

  “Is the fusion cannon fully charged?” Michael asked.

  “Ninety four percent,” Lieutenant Jones replied.

  The massive Krenaran carrier recognised the comparatively tiny former Krenaran ship rapidly baring down on its position, its engines were completely different to any typical Krenaran ship, and its weapon systems had been changed, the moment of confusion allowed the Liberty to close with its prey. Recognising the Liberty for what it was, a captured ship, it unleashed three of its deadly H.O.T rockets straight towards it. The deadly accurate missiles raced towards the Liberty with terrifying speed.

  “Torpedoes, fire!” Michael shouted in desperation as he saw the bright light of the enemy missile engines streaking towards them. With the little time they had, the Liberty only managed to launch two of its own torpedoes, both the incoming missiles and the ships own torpedoes slammed into one another and exploded in a gigantic, blinding explosion that lit up the space all around them; the shockwave blasting nearby debris in all directions.

  Briefly the viewer turned an intensely bright white, Michael and the command crew had to shield their eyes from the blinding light of the explosion.

  The Liberty shuddered violently, as the shockwave slammed into it. People were thrown from their consoles; Michael desperately hung onto his seat. As the viewer began to clear, the shape of the third rocket was briefly visible as it hurtled its way towards them.

  Completely unable to avoid this third missile in time, the warhead struck home with devastating impact, instantly detonating, and blasting apart one of the high energy torpedo launchers, the sheer force of the explosion sent the Liberty spinning out of control.

  Onboard, the scene was one of utter devastation, Eldathar was flung completely from his seat, consoles and sensitive electronics exploded violently; support girders collapsed and fires broke out. Kinraid was thrown into the air and smashed into another console; he lay on the deck unconscious.

  The impact was so powerful that the Liberty was flung into a wildly uncontrolled barrel roll. Michael crawled his way over to the navigators chair and tried desperately to regain control of the ship.

  The unstable flickering image of the enemy carrier filled the viewscreen as the out of control Liberty sped towards it. Michael heaved on the arms of the pilot’s chair with all the might he could muster, if he couldn’t steer the ship away from the hull of the enemy carrier in time, they were all dead. His face was grimy as the sweat from the heat mixed with soot from the small fires which had begun to take hold in some parts of the bridge.

  He screamed, as he put every last ounce of strength he had into the controls, “come on, you son of a bitch!” he shouted.

  The Liberty; barely meters away from slamming into the carrier’s deck, responded and Michael had control again. He mashed the button for the fusion cannon, and as the ship made an almost impossibly steep climb, the fusion beam shot out at point blank range tearing a deep fiery ravine down the length of the carrier.

  The devastating beam cut a swathe along the centre of the Krenaran ship and up across its command structure, almost shearing it clean in two, it tore itself apart under the force of the cannon impact.

  The Liberty had missed careering into the Krenaran ships hull by barely a meter. Nearby Solarian ships, seeing the badly damaged carrier, converged upon it, and mercilessly cut it to pieces with several more fusion cannon hits.

  Michael looked upon his debris scattered, smashed bridge, taking in the forms of several mangled E.D.F and Solarian crew members lying motionless on the floor; his heart weighed heavy in his chest as he grieved for them immensely, his head felt fuzzy from the heat and the pain of being thrown around from the torpedo impact.

  Since the crew of the Libert
y was such a small one, it was like everyone was a friend, and everyone knew everybody else onboard. Michael didn’t have the luxury of letting his grief show however, he was in command. And right now they were in desperate trouble, the grief would have to come later.

  Logan slowly picked himself up, dusting off his blackened, soot stained uniform. Kinraid slowly regained consciousness and woozily got to his feet as well, his forehead sported a nasty gash from slamming into the console earlier, which bled down the side of his face and onto his uniform.

  Michael looked down at the prone form of Eldathar, lying motionless just a few feet from his position at the pilot’s chair. Kinraid gradually managed to pick his way through the debris to check over the Solarian, he had been taught basic first aid at the E.D.F officer training centre on Delta base, although he hadn’t the faintest idea of Solarian physiology.

  He was breathing, but only very shallow, his Solarian officers uniform was torn in several places revealing his blue tinged skin; a viscous blue-ish green blood seeped out of deep cuts and scrapes on the exposed parts of his body.

  An emergency damage control team managed to scrabble their way onto the damaged bridge, and began to put out the electrical fires and secured some of the damaged, sparking conduits. The lingering smoke slowly managed to clear as the emergency environmental controls began to take over again, much to Michael’s relief.

  “What’s our status?” He asked rubbing his throbbing head.

  Logan made his way over to one of the still functioning internal diagnostic terminals. “Reactive hull armour is down, starboard torpedo launcher is completely destroyed which has left a large breach on decks 2 and 3. We also have some structural damage on deck 4, heavy casualties have been reported; we’re lucky it’s not worse sir.”

  Michael pressed his wrist comm. “Alexander to sickbay, we have wounded on the bridge.”

  “Received, we have a medic team on its way to you now,” the familiar voice of Ensign Kathryn Jacobs, the chief medical officer onboard replied.

  The small, rather limited sickbay was littered with the wounded, dead and dying. She had been working frenetically to help those most in need. Her long dark locks were bedraggled and knotted, sweat trickled down her gentle youthful features, her bloodstained uniform testament to her work. She quickly tended to a man who had been working in engineering when a backup conduit supplying ionic energy to the starboard turning thruster ruptured and exploded next to where he was standing. His body had received eighty percent burns and most likely would not survive, despite her best efforts.

  Passing a hand held E.E.G machine over the body, Kathryn read the readout. It was not good, heart rate was dropping and breathing was getting shallower. She gave the man some adrenaline, to bring his heart rate back up, and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

  She had no choice but to use the as yet experimental dermal regeneration booth, or risk losing him again. Asking an orderly to help her with the man’s stretcher so she could lay him down inside the booth, which closely resembled that of an old earth C.A.T scanner. She removed his clothes, so that he was now completely naked, which was required for the regeneration effect.

  A large scanner passed slowly over the injured man’s body and took detailed readings of where the burns were located and how severe. Then another oval shaped device made a pass, barely millimetres from the body itself, coating it with thousands of microscopic stem cells, once this device had made its sweep, a third larger device made a slow pass across the body repeatedly firing very low power electrical impulses at these stem cells. Slowly they began to take on the form of new skin cells; literally growing new skin over the burnt, damaged tissue. The man would need to stay in the booth for several hours yet to encourage the stem cells to grow.

  Two medical interns, Crewmen Booth and Mason arrived on the bridge, other than Jacobs they were some of the most experienced medical staff on the ship. Although the medical staff was only five strong fully manned, the other three were inundated in sickbay.

  They shook their heads when they came upon the unconscious form of Eldathar, pulled out a foldout stretcher they were carrying, and carried him off to sickbay. A quiet sadness welled up inside Michael as the Solarian was carried away, Eldathar was far and away the best pilot he had, and one of the best in the fleet, his cheery personality was infectious and he dearly hoped he would recover, he considered the Solarian one of his closest friends. A few minutes later the medic team returned, checked over the other bodies and finally turned to Kinraid’s head wound.

  Mason placed a synth flesh bandage on it and said, “you should be fine now commander.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ensign Hawkins to the bridge,” Michael spoke into the internal comm.

  Several minutes later, Ensign Jeffrey Hawkins arrived on the bridge, he was the relief pilot onboard, and took the place of the injured Eldathar. Michael had nothing against the guy, but he didn’t really trust him, probably due to the fact that he was absolutely green, a raw recruit, straight out of the pilot training centre on Delta alpha base. And in these circumstances you could do with an experienced pilot you could trust to fly you out of a tight spot. He just hoped Mr. Hawkins was up to the task.

  “We’ve got another problem cap’n,” Kinraid announced turning back to his flickering screen.

  Why is nothing ever easy anymore, Michael thought with a depressed sigh.

  Kinraid brought it up on the viewer, the shape of two stealth ships were rapidly closing down on their position. The Liberty had managed to drift away from the main battle. The bright streaks of weapons fire and flashes of explosions were still clearly visible in the distance.

  “Head for the planet,” Michael commanded, he prayed the damaged Liberty would hold together through the entry into the atmosphere of Gamma IV.

  “Sir……the Hermes,” Kinraid said as he looked at the viewer, it zoomed in to depict the massive carrier.

  The gigantic wedge shaped ship was ablaze, multiple torpedo impacts had smashed into its superstructure, and it was listing badly. Giant Explosions erupted, bursting apart sections of its elongated triangular hull in great gouts of flame.

  “There’s nothing we can do for her now,” Michael said sadly.

  The pursuing stealth ships continued to close on the Liberty.

  7. Liberty down.

  Nikolai Vargev was busily putting the finishing touches to his newly reformed defences. Dusk was beginning to set in, and he knew the Krenarans would resume their attacks soon.

  The engineers were already busily repairing the multitude of vehicles damaged over the course of the fighting. Everyone was blissfully unaware however of the huge battle still raging high above the planet.

  There were a couple of things Vargev needed to attend to before the inevitable attacks resumed. Heading over to one of the temporary repair bays the engineers had rigged up in one of the vast tank factories. Nikolai wanted to meet the man who piloted that dominator which defended the breach so bravely the night before. He asked one of the guards, who pointed to one of the assault walkers which was awaiting repairs at the far end of the repair bay.

  Two engineers were busily welding together some of the frontal armour plating damaged in the attacks. Its cracked cockpit glass had been replaced with one from another unsalvageable dominator.

  Standing next to the battered walker, overseeing the repairs with his back towards Nikolai, a lone man was stood. Vargev made his way over to the man who was a little startled by the colonel’s presence.

  Quickly turning on his heel, he saluted, which Vargev dutifully returned. The man was only young, perhaps in his early twenties and possessing of a thick mane of dark brown hair.

  “Are you the man who piloted that dominator defending the breach last night?” He said pointing towards the mammoth war machine.

  “Yes sir, Corporal Greystoke, sir.”

  “That was some fight you put up last night corporal, how long have you piloted dominators?”

 
“Five years sir, me and Bertha go everywhere.”

  “Bertha?”

  “The name of my dominator, big Bertha,” Greystoke motioned for Vargev to follow where he revealed an airbrushed picture of a voluptuous woman in a tight red dress and holding a machine gun in one hand. Underneath the image, it read Bertha in scarlet italic. The corporal had carefully painted the image on the rear power supply cowling.

  Vargev smiled, “quite an artist too corporal.”

  Greystoke silently nodded, patting the exterior of the machine. “Don’t worry Bertha, we’ll get you patched up in no time.”

  “I’m going to see to it that you’re promoted to sergeant, Greystoke, when we finally get out of here.”

  “If I may sir, I would rather prefer to stay at the rank I am sir.”

  “Why?”

  “If I remain corporal, I simply go where I’m sent and fight where I’m needed, there is no command decision to make sir.”

  “I see,” Vargev replied, eyeing the young corporal, concerned about the young man’s lack of aspiration. “You don’t want to be in command, to lead men out into the field?”

  “No sir, I am quite happy being the man at the bottom, without all the rigours of command sir.”

  “You know corporal, you’re a wiser man and a better soldier than most of my senior Lieutenants.”

  “Thank you sir,” Greystoke replied with a warm smile.

  The two men saluted once more, and Vargev went to leave, but at the last minute he turned back, “corporal.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “I want you to assist in the defence of the main gate, as soon as Bertha is ready.”