StarFight 1: Battlestar

by T. Jackson King

  “Moving,” called Swanson.

  “Dropping,” said Wilcox.

  “Going to your right,” responded Zhang.

  “Going left,” Jefferson said tightly.

  The frigate captains each responded and moved to their positions between the heavier ships.

  “Battle group, move your ships out from the Lepanto to a distance of one thousand kilometers. Maintain the same separation between nearby ships.”

  Jacob watched as yellow-orange flares spit out from the rear of each ship in the battle group, followed by purple flares from attitude control thrusters.

  The end result satisfied him. The Lepanto lay at the center of the circle of eight ships. There was enough space between each ship so the plasma batteries could be set on automatic against any incoming Smart Rocks or missiles. The 400 kilometer range of each ship’s plasma battery, or batteries for the five larger ships, would cover the space between each ship, with no blue-on-blue accidental damage.

  “You like wheels, don’t you?” O’Connor muttered.

  Was the man challenging him? Or just making small talk until the real fighting began?

  “I do. In Binghamton where I grew up, the kids in our exurb played the Wheel Game with metal hoops. It was fun.” Jacob paused, knowing the nine crew at the front function posts, plus Daisy, Carlos and Lori, were hearing everything he said thanks to their helmet comlinks. “More importantly, this formation is suited to an attack coming from a linear direction. It allows maximum beam energy weapons use while minimizing accidental cross-fire.”

  The middle-aged man, whose white hair was crewcut with sidewalls in the traditional Marine look, chuckled. “It’s fine, young Renselaer. I would be doing the same. Though I do like attack probes from unexpected directions.”

  Jacob licked his lips, his tension rising as the enemy fleet neared their orbit. “I do too. The frigates may try sniping runs after the first exchange.”

  “Good,” O’Connor said.

  Jacob felt his heart beating faster. His fingertips, which hovered just above his armrest control patches, trembled slightly. He took a deep breath, told himself that the officers in charge on the other decks had all pledged their allegiance to him, and the Darts did not need O’Connor’s presence to launch on boarding attacks. Or to launch and defend against wasp efforts to board the Lepanto or other battle group ships. For a moment, he felt calm.

  “All ships, wait to fire upon my command. Cross-link your fire control targeting with that of every other ship.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Alarm!” scent cast the Servant who monitored external space events. “Soft Skin flying nests have changed formation. They are assuming . . . a defense pattern.”

  Hunter could both see and sense what the Servant was reporting. The evidence of coherent behavior by the flying nests was a disappointment. He had thought the loss of their leaders would render the Soft Skins confused and fearful. Instead, it appeared some Fighter Leaders had survived on the mobile nests.

  “Soft Skin nests are moving with controlled propulsion,” scent cast another Servant tasked with monitoring the individual flying nests of the Soft Skins. The signal pheromones emitted by the elderly female Servant were calm and helpful.

  Hunter responded to the surprise by emitting a mix of aggregation, primer and territorial pheromones. Each Swarmer in the Flight Chamber was being called to defend their new home nest, while being reminded that an englobing attack by the Swarm required complete loyalty and group coordination. His scent mix was also being sent to every other Swarmer mobile nest.

  “Speaker To All,” he said to the young male Servant who managed the device that sent pheromone-laden words to the other flying nests. “Scent cast to our Support Hunters it is time to move our mobile nests into a half-globe. Make the outer edge of our globe larger than the major eye width of the Soft Skin nests.”

  “Casting your scent orders,” the Servant replied by way of a releaser pheromone.

  Hunter breathed deep the mixed pheromones of the Swarmers in the Flight Chamber, then the cooler scents emitted from each flying nest that held Swarmers. The feelings from other nests were excited, eager and ready to sting. His own stinger twitched in automatic response to the scent sense of other Swarmers. Moving as a cloud to envelop the enemy had always worked for the Swarm when battling other cohorts. Surely it would work even better in the attack on the Soft Skins.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Daisy’s peripheral vision noted the calm, relaxed manner of O’Connor the Marine. She had been surprised by the man’s arrival. Then she had realized she, Carlos, Quincy and Lori were only the beginnings of the brain trust that Jacob was bringing to the Bridge. It impressed her that her friend had had the guts to call to the Bridge a man with deep experience fighting deadly battles. It made sense of course. Neither Jacob, nor herself, nor any of their friends had ever been in a true battle against an enemy who sought to kill you. Digital and video simulations at the academy were useful training. But you always knew you would come out of the simulator in one piece. At least until the warrant officer in charge showed up to harangue you on what you had done wrong. Now, they were indeed entering battle. It was an experience new to most enlisteds and officers on the Lepanto and on the other battle group ships. The last true spaceship-on-spaceship battle had been the Callisto Conflict of twenty years ago. After the discovery of faster than light star travel, every group of humans had focused on putting together the funds and resources to send off a colonizing group. Routine arguments had withered in face of the wonders of star travel. Now, that innocence had ended.

  “XO,” called Jacob. “Are the Weapons Deck and our weapons systems at Battle Condition One?”

  She glanced at the ship deck layout holo, which hovered to the left of the holo that showed a true space image of the approaching wasp ships. “They are, acting captain. Our antimatter cannon has a reservoir of four shots.”

  “Good.” Her armrest screen image of him and everyone else on the Bridge showed him sitting back in his seat. “Weapons chief Diego y Silva, advise the petty officer in charge of the AM cannon to not fire until I give the order.”

  She saw the Brazilian reach out and tap his control pillar. “Directive sent, acting captain.”

  The wasp ship hologram drew her attention.

  “Captain!” Daisy called quickly. “Wasp ships are changing formation. They are moving to a half globe shape. Their primary ship is at the center and rear of the new formation. Approach speed is slowed to 900 kilometers per minute.”

  “Sir,” called Rosemary from Tactical. “That is also what my sensors show. Like us, they are moving on fusion pulse and attitude exhausts. Uh, my EMF sensors report the forward tube groups on each wasp ship are energizing. Power emissions are spiking.”

  Did that mean the enemy was about to fire on them? Daisy glanced at the range tracker that showed the kilometers to each wasp ship. The range showed as a number icon next to the Wasp number applied by Rosemary as a means of referencing a particular enemy ship. Briefly she recalled that Rosemary’s icon designation was being shared with the Bridges and Weapons Decks of other battle group ships. Those signals went by neutrino transmission through an alternate dimension. It meant each ship could coordinate with other ships even in the midst of a thermonuclear blast that disrupted normal EMF emissions.

  “All ships,” called Jacob. “Multiple hostile bandits approaching. You are cleared hot. Kill is authorized. Philippines Sea, St. Mihiel, Chesapeake and Marianas, coordinate your laser and proton fire at single targets in sequence. Tsushima Strait, Britain, Hampton Roads and Ofira, do the same. The Lepanto will fire on targets of opportunity.”

  Daisy’s mind filled with the tactical imagery of the coming battle. The wasp ships were a bowl approaching the flat plate of their formation. Jacob had just ordered the other ships to link their laser and proton fire on a single target, the better to achieve punch through. His ship naming made for two groups of four ships that would fire on a single
target. Which meant two wasp ships would be hit at first, along with whatever the Lepanto fired. Then two more, followed by two more. The beam energy firing would rotate among the oncoming ships. The firing of Smart Rocks by the Lepanto’s four railguns and the launching of thermonuke missiles from their tail launch silos would happen later as the enemy grew closer than the outer 10,000 klick reach of their CO2 and proton lasers.

  “Acting captain,” called Rosemary from Tactical. “What target for our gunners?”

  “The enemy’s formation is six ships in the outer and closer rim of the half globe,” Jacob grunted. “The other ships are scattered further back, with the largest wasp ship at the center and rear of the half globe. Target the wasp ship at 10 o’clock radial track, bandit W9.”

  “Targeting,” Rosemary said, tapping her control panel to send the selected wasp ship coordinates to the carbon dioxide laser gunners at the front ends of the right and left outrigger pods.

  Daisy saw those stations go Red Active on her ship deck holo. Everyone else was at Orange Ready status. The proton lasers were aimed sideways at a 90 degree angle off of their head-on aim. The rear pair of lasers and the missile silos waited for an enemy to enter their targeting zone. And the railguns and plasma batteries waited for close-in targets like self-guided missiles and Smart Rocks. She felt her heart beat faster and her skin felt sweaty under the vacsuit fabric. Cool air in her helmet did nothing to relieve the tenseness of her body.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunter rose off his control bench. His five eyes took in all the perception images and scent trails emitted by the Servants in front of and to either side of him. What did the shape of the Soft Skin formation mean? They had not moved into a half globe for enveloping of his Swarm mobile nests, as another Swarmer would try to do. Nor had they run away on propulsive emissions as a small Swarm group would do when faced with a larger Swarm group moving to attack. On his world of Nest the rule was simple. Fight and defend your territory. Fly away and lose the territory. Or surrender to the new Hunter by offering the sacrifice of their failed Hunter. The last option was how the Swarm had come to control all parts of their home of Nest. No creature, whether of air, water or ground, challenged the Swarm. All other creatures sought to survive. These Soft Skins chose to fight even though they had fewer flying nests than the Swarm. Nine against twelve was an obvious flight path to defeat and death. So be it.

  “Stinger Servant!” he scent cast with a strong primer pheromone. “Are the Soft Skin nests within attack range?”

  “Not yet,” the young female replied. “Within seventy beats of our wings they will be. Very soon.”

  He inhaled her mix of pheromones. And those of Stinger Servants on the other Swarm flying nests. All were ready. All were eager to attack and kill the enemy that sought to claim their new home nest. “Support Hunters, sting and move as you desire,” he said in a mix of aggregation, primer and signal pheromones. “Maintain the shape of our formation, but sting the way your ancestors stung!”

  “Range achieved!” signaled the Stinger Servant.

  “Sting them!” he scent cast with a massive flow of signal pheromones.

  His four foot pads felt the floor humming as the front group of stinger tubes unleashed sky bolts and sky light strikes. His hearing membranes heard the rasping of forearms against hard shells as everyone in the Flight Chamber joined in the attack excitement.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Jacob felt shock as yellow lightning bolts and green laser beams shot out from the front group of six wasp ships. The enemy was still 11,000 kilometers distant. Beyond the range of their own CO2 and proton lasers. But not beyond the enemy’s range.

  “Spinning ship!” yelled Slaughter at Navigation.

  His eyes saw the red dots of laser and bolt strikes as they struck parts of the Lepanto cross-section that floated to his right in one of the four holos before him. Four hits. Two laser strikes on the lower hull just below the Bridge and two lightning bolt hits on the upper hull, just ahead of the right front railgun launcher. He blinked, then realized the adaptive optics and ablative hull coatings had deflected most of the incoming energy. What did penetrate was stopped by the ship’s thick armor.

  “All ships, accelerate forward!” he yelled over his helmet comlink that linked him with both his Bridge crew and with the other ships by way of the constant neutrino signals that passed among all their ships. “Break orbit and approach enemy at 900 klicks per minute!”

  “Our three main fusion thrusters are firing!” called Akira M’Bala from her Engines post.

  Everyone was doing their job. Slaughter had activated the attitude jets to spin the ship about its long axis, thereby reducing the time of impact of enemy beams on any part of the Lepanto’s outer hull. M’Bala had kept the ship’s three main fusion pulse drives hot and ready for further use. The Lepanto and the eight other ships of the formation now moved forward toward the enemy, no longer holding a stationary geosync position. That joint movement made it harder for the enemy gunners to target any Earth ship and brought the nine of them within range of their own weapons sooner. They needed to fire, now that it was apparent the wasp ships had a slightly greater range for their lasers and lightning bolt weapons than the range of human beam energy weapons.

  “Steinmetz!” he yelled. “Analyze enemy weapons. How can they have greater range than our weapons?”

  The portly man reached out one hand and touched his Science control pillar. “Sensors report the front ring of tubes on each enemy ship contains both lightning bolt and laser emitters. No idea how the bolt weapon can reach us. The laser beams that impacted had weak power. Clearly they were operating at the extreme end of their weapon’s focusing power.”

  Which told him something but nothing of real use. “Tactical! Fire! All ships, fire on enemy hostiles!”

  “Firing!” called O’Hara.

  Jacob watched as the left and right front laser nodes shot out two green beams at wasp ship W9. The two side proton lasers had to wait until wasp ships were to the left and right of the Lepanto. As would the proton lasers on the top and belly of the ship. The Battlestar had incredible weaponry. Two laser nodes on the front ends of the two outrigger pods, two at the rear of the pods, plasma batteries on the spine and belly, eight missile launch silos that circled the ship’s three main exhaust funnels, two front and two rear railguns on the top half of the hull along with four on the bottom half of the hull. Plus their coup de main was the antimatter cannon at the front nose of the ship. Its emitter portal had little directional mobility. It could only fire straight ahead, at whatever the ship’s nose was pointed at. Which right now was the largest enemy wasp ship. It lay well beyond the weapon’s 4,000 kilometer range given the enemy’s placement at the rear of the wasp formation.

  “Hits on W9!” cried O’Hara.

  He saw that in the true space holo that hovered to the right of his seat. There was the silvery sparkle of hull fragments and white puffs of something that must be air. Leastwise, that was what his ship’s topside electro-optical scope showed in the telescopic view of the enemy. The left side holo with its sensor glows for each enemy ship showed three red infrared spots on the forward hull of the enemy ship. Damaged it was, but not destroyed.

  “Hits on two other wasp ships!” called Daisy from her XO seat.

  Jacob’s eyes drank it all in. Wasp ships W2 and W5 had been hit and damaged by the lasers fired by the cruisers, destroyers and frigates of his formation. Mentally he visualized the weaponry placement of each ship. The cruisers were nearly as powerful as the Lepanto. They had dual lasers at the nose and tail, proton lasers on the right and left sides of the ship, plasma batteries at top and bottom, a single railgun launcher on the front nose and four missile launch silos at the rear. The destroyers were smaller but just as deadly. Each one had a single proton laser at the nose, two CO2 laser nodes at the tail, plasma batteries at top and bottom, and two missile launch silos at the rear. The frigates were swift and mobile but lacked proton lasers. They carr
ied CO2 lasers at the nose and tail, a single plasma battery and a single missile launch silo at the rear.

  “Britain reports damage to its topside plasma battery,” Daisy called out, adding words to what Jacob saw in his left side holo that showed sensor images of the battle group’s eight ships. “Philippines Sea reports glancing strike on one of its two nose lasers. Both ships remain combat operational.”

  Three enemy ships hit in return for hits on three battle group ships, including the Lepanto. Jacob did not like equal exchanges. “Slaughter! Shift our forward angle by twenty degrees. Bring us within target aim for W9!”

  “Adjusting ship’s vector track,” the woman said hurriedly. “But W9 and all the wasp ships are now jinking erratically. Looks like a random walk formation. Or something like that.”

  Jacob saw the enemy ship movements in his right side true space holo. Which now showed the six nearest enemy ships again firing green lasers and yellow lightning bolts at the battle fleet ships. In the same instant his left side holo showed the two groups of his ships firing lasers at two new wasp ships. That made for twelve lasers aimed at two ships. Surely punch through would happen—

  “W8 shows an explosion on the middle of its hull!” cried O’Hara from Tactical. “Ship’s jinking has stopped. Motive power is disrupted.”

  “Ofira and Hampton Roads each report laser and bolt hits on their front ends,” Daisy called over their shared comlink. “Both ships are still combat operational.”

  Impatience filled Jacob. The range to the front group of six enemy ships was now down to 4,875 kilometers, thanks to the continuing fusion pulse acceleration of the Lepanto and the battle group. The enemy was rushing toward them and they were rushing toward the enemy. Which gave both groups a rapidly increasing closure speed.

  “Navigation, shift Lepanto’s swing to focus on W8.” He licked his lips and told his nerves to get the hell out of his mind. “Tactical, link me with the chief petty officer in charge of the antimatter cannon,” he said.