StarFight 1: Battlestar

by T. Jackson King

  “All ships, go to Alert Hostile Enemy status. Weapons go Hot. Kills authorized. Move into Alpha Vortex formation!”

  In the holo, the green ship icons of the group moved back, leaving the Lepanto, the Chesapeake and the Hampton Roads at the forefront, arranged in a triangular formation. The Lepanto held top slot, with the two cruisers moving down and out to 120 degree angles relevant to his ship. That made their front group a perfect triangle. Behind them the destroyers moved back 500 kilometers and assumed the same triangle formation, but tilted so their firing angle ahead would not hit the rears of the first row of ships. The three frigates moved back a further 500 klicks, and rotated their triangle formation so their front lasers had a clear field of fire. The Vortex formation resembled a long tube with ships arranged in a spiral. The Battlestar and the two cruisers covered the group’s flanks due to having proton lasers on their sides, and on top and bottom for the Lepanto. The destroyers had proton lasers at their fronts, with tail CO2 lasers. And the frigates had CO2 lasers at their nose and tail. Every ship carried thermonuke-loaded missiles.

  Acknowledgments came from every captain. Their images formed a row of faces along the top of the front wallscreen. The face of Joy Jefferson on the Philippines Sea looked happy. The woman knew she would be able to hit hard at the alien enemy. And wanted to hit hard! He smiled.

  “Captain,” called Richard from below. “Can my people man their Darts? We may need them for boarding a damaged enemy ship. I recall you saying we wished to capture some wasps and some of their signaling equipment.”

  He had indeed said that during the all ships video conference during the Alcubierre transit. “Chief O’Connor, order your men to their Darts. No one launches until I say so.”

  “Understood!” The man tapped quickly on his armrest, speaking hurriedly into the private comlink reserved for the Marines.

  Jacob’s holo cross-section of the Lepanto and its decks now showed four red spots lighting up near the rear Engines part of the hull. The Darts would launch out of a single missile silo, one after the other, before turning and aiming for the target ship.

  “Captain,” called Rosemary. “The wasp ships are spreading out. They are keeping their hexagon formation but are putting lots of room between each ship. Looks like they aim to envelop us.”

  Briefly he wondered why the wasps always tried to englobe his ships. Was this cultural or biological or the function of a rigid command structure? No matter. He was not bound by any rigid rule other than the prime rule—attack and defeat the enemy!

  “All ships, move out at 9,000 klicks per minute,” he said, relying on the continuous neutrino comlink to carry his words, just as they carried back the images of each ship captain.

  Acknowledgments came. In his holo, the tubular grouping of nine starships moved forward toward the incoming ring of wasp ships. He hoped the wasp ships came within range of his antimatter cannon, but that was unlikely. Just as it was a certainty he would not allow any battle group ship to get within the range of the black hole weapon of the wasp aliens.

  It was time to pick a target. “All ships, cross-link your Weapons stations. Maintain weapons fire on the single wasp ship we hit first. Let’s see how quickly we can burn through that damned hull metal!”

  “All stations are ready to fire,” Oliver said from Weapons.

  “Enemy has slowed to 9,000 kilometers per minute,” called Louise from Navigation. “They are still in ring formation.”

  Jacob watched the distance counter get smaller as the two groups of ships moved toward each other. Fifteen thousand, fourteen, thirteen, twelve . . .

  “Incoming enemy lasers!” called Oliver.

  “All ships, go to jinking and jiggling,” Jacob said firmly, avoiding the temptation to yell. Every ship captain knew how to use their attitude thrusters to push their ship off of a direct line of sight track so as to frustrate enemy gunners.

  One green laser beam hit the nose of the Lepanto.

  “Beam energy deflected by our adaptive optics lenses,” called Joaquin from Life Support.

  Now it began. “Weapons, all ships, fire your lasers at the wasp ship W3 at 140 degrees declination!”

  Two green beams from the Lepanto were joined by two beams from each cruiser and beams from the destroyers and frigates. That made for twelve green laser beams striking the upper hull of the wasp ship he had selected.

  “Hits!” cried Rosemary. “Spectroscope and electro-optics show water and air release. Punch through!”

  Jacob focused on the telescopically enlarged image of the log-shaped alien ship whose icon showed W3. Its front ring of laser and lightning tubes were firing back. Like his fleet, the counterfire from the wasps was focusing on the frigate Aldertag. Sunderland and her people were at risk of ship destruction.

  “Chesapeake! Move to block those beams hitting the Aldertag. All ships, continue firing on the wasp ship!”

  His distance counter gave a separation of 7,213 kilometers. His ships and the wasp ships had slowed again to 900 kilometers per minute, allowing for better targeting on both sides. Yellow lightning bolts and green laser beams streamed against his ships while their own green laser beams and the destroyers’ proton beams concentrated on a single ship. Time to mix things up.

  “All ships, go to target rotation! Weapons, move your beams to wasp ship W4 at 160 degrees!”

  “Firing,” Oliver called. “Other ships joining my fire.”

  “Rotate to the next wasp ship once a minute,” Jacob called to the Brazilian who had shown himself to be a maestro of energy beams. “Skip the giant wasp ship. Its hull is too thick to warrant gas laser attack. Rotate!”

  As the wasp ships changed their laser and lightning bolt fire from the sheltered Aldertag to the front of the Chesapeake, Jacob knew it was time to go to the next step in his plan.

  “Chesapeake and Hampton Roads, turn to present your flank to the enemy. Fire your proton lasers at the first wasp ship we hit. Let’s see if we can blow W3 in half!” He looked to the right. “Navigation, swing us so we can add our right flank proton laser to this mix. Three proton beams, plus proton lasers from the destroyers and CO2 lasers from the frigates, might just get us a kill!”

  In the holo the green ship icons of his battle fleet changed orientation even as they stayed in Vortex formation. The counter hit 5,000 kilometers.

  A star blossomed.

  “One hostile splashed!” yelled Jefferson from the Philippines Sea.

  “Captain!” yelled Rosemary. “The Chesapeake has a punch through on their right flank side. They are rotating to present their left flank to incoming fire. Their left side proton laser will begin firing shortly.”

  The black face of Rebecca looked to him from the wallscreen. “Fleet captain, we got hit deep. Our right side proton laser node is gone. Fifteen crew with it. We are continuing to fire on the enemy.”

  He knew that. Jacob could see that every battle group ship was firing either proton or CO2 lasers at the wasps in a rotating target scheme. It had seemed like a good idea earlier.

  “Swanson, fall back behind the Lepanto. Hampton Roads, move forward with us to block what beams you can. Fire your side proton laser at that wasp ship getting hit by our lasers. Do it now!”

  “Moving,” Swanson said.

  “Coming up to join you,” said Wilcox, his blue eyes blazing with fierce determination.

  “Captain!” called Daisy. “We got a leaker. One wasp ship is moving out. It’s aiming for Valhalla!”

  Damn.

  On the wallscreen, Joy Jefferson let out a screech. “I’m after him! You bastard! Let me burn your tail!”

  No other ships left the Vortex formation. But Jacob could tell there was a desire to help the Philippines Sea.

  “All ships, maintain formation! Captain Jefferson, you have my permission to pursue that wasp ship. Stop him by any means necessary! Do not let him get close enough to launch nukes at the planet!”

  She didn’t acknowledge. Instead, she told her Engines p
erson to increase speed toward planet four.

  It was time.

  “All ships, go to Alpha Wheel formation. We are seven against their four.” He looked ahead. “Weapons, activate the antimatter cannon.”

  “Activating,” Oliver said. “But no enemy is within range.”

  “I know. We can still fire.” He tracked the enemy ships arrangement and saw what he needed to see. “Navigation, shift our nose to aim at the giant wasp ship. But lead it by a twenty degree angle. Weapons, you ready to fire yet?”

  “Ready.”

  “Fire!” yelled Jacob.

  A black beam of negative antimatter shot out from the nose of the Lepanto. It streaked toward the spot in space where the giant wasp ship should be, in a few moments.

  “Captain, the AM beam will lose coherence at 4,000 klicks,” called Alicia.

  “I know. But the antimatter will still be present on that target vector. Yes, it will be a cloud. And no, it cannot kill that ship when so dispersed. But I bet that wasp ship won’t like what it does to their outer hull!”

  “Yes!” cried Oliver as he understood Jacob’s reasoning.

  “We’re hit bad!” yelled Metz from the Marianas. “Lost all thruster power. Still able to fire lasers and our plasma battery.”

  Jacob saw the telltale stream of water and air spewing out from the midbody of the frigate.

  In the Wheel formation there was no chance for another ship to get between the frigate and incoming beams. Which it was now receiving from all four wasp ships.

  A second star flared.

  “Shit!” yelled Richard.

  Deep frustration hit Jacob. They had killed a wasp ship and the wasps had killed one of their frigates.

  “Fleet captain!” called Sunderland. “We are taking the beams now! What is your command?”

  He made the decision he knew had to be made.

  “All frigates, withdraw beyond enemy laser range! Go to max acceleration to get away. The rest of us can handle the enemy.”

  “Moving out at one percent, five, nine, ten psol,” called Captain Lorenz from the St. Mihiel.

  “We’re also moving beyond the enemy beams,” called Sunderland from the Aldertag.

  His mind’s eye filled with images. The destroyer Philippines Sea was curving off to one side in pursuit of the wasp ship that was trying to get close to Valhalla. Two frigates were now beyond enemy firing range. With one ship dead and three out of engagement range, that left him five ships against the four of the wasps. His eyes caught the names beside each icon. Lepanto, Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Salamis and Tsushima Strait.

  “All ships, concentrate your beams on the giant ship! Let’s kill that big mother!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunter Seven felt pleasure at the perception image of a Soft Skin flying nest dying in a ball of sky light fire. Now, it was time for his nest to do the vital job of extinguishing Soft Skins from the land of world four. He shared Hunter One’s conviction that world three must be made safe for a future colony of Swarmers. Their lives on Nest had proven that safety lay in killing or chasing off all intruders, all lifeforms that sought to live in the home range of Swarmers. That must now happen here.

  “Stinger Servant, are we within flight range for our particle disruption seeds to land on the world below?” he scent cast.

  “Not yet,” the Servant replied, lowering his antennae in a show of regret that mixed with pheromones of aggregation as he spoke of his loyalty to Seven.

  Frustration filled Seven. A Soft Skin nest even now closed on his nest. It fired red heavy sky light beams that hit near the propulsive part of his nest. Even though his Servant who guided the nest through dark space now moved the nest from side to side, in the classic flight formation of all Swarmers, still, the enemy hit more often than he missed.

  “Leader!” scent cast the Servant in charge of propulsive devices. “One propulsive unit is dead! We now move at half our flight speed.”

  More frustration filled Seven’s inner gut. His nest had but two propulsive devices to send them winging through cold dark space. Losing one meant a loss of flight ability.

  “Stinger Servant! Fire our tail sky bolts at that creature! Bite him to death!”

  “Biting!” the Servant scent cast strongly. “But our beams do not harm!”

  Seven looked to the imager that showed the circle of world four. They were not far from its upper air zone. If they were to attack, now was the moment.

  “Stinger Servant, fire a swarm of particle disruption seeds! Fire our Storm Bringer globes! Some will surely get through!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunter One felt no pleasure at the death of the Soft Skin flying nest. His Swarm had lost one of their own nests. Other nests were being badly damaged by the concentrated beams of the disgusting Soft Skins. While one Soft Skin nest pursued after Seven’s nest, two other nests now flew off and out of range of his stingers. That left him with four nests against five Soft Skin nests. And those nests were coming directly at his dispersed nests, matching their ring to his ring.

  “Alarm!” scent cast the male Servant who monitored external radiations. “Black beam particles are impacting on us! Two of our outer tool groups are dead.”

  “Our hard shell!” yelled One in a harsh flow of pheromones. “Is it intact?”

  “It is,” the Servant replied. “But the place where the heavy sky light beams cut deep into us is now being struck again by sky light beams. The outer hard shell piece we put in place is now gone!”

  He could not allow his nest to lose its forward energy node. That would disable the Pull Down device. Hunter One looked again at the image of the Soft Skin nests. All five were concentrating their sky light beams on his nest. So. Leader against leader. He wished to kill whomever led the Soft Skins on the largest nest. But he had a duty which all Hunters had to first obey.

  “Flight Servant, swing up!” he scent cast in a mix of alarm, signal and anger pheromones. “Take us away from this world! Move us to the outer magnetic boundary. We must return to Nest and advise other Hunters and Matrons of the existence of this new colony world!”

  “Swinging up,” scent cast the Servant.

  He looked to another Swarmer. “Speaker To All, toss scent to the three nests flying with us that they are to join our journey outward. Tell them we will head first for Warmth to avoid giving the Soft Skins any scent of the direction to our home of Nest. Speak now!”

  “Sending your scent outward,” the Servant replied.

  “We are moving to the edge of the range at which we can bite,” called the Stinger Servant.

  One ignored the obvious. There was one more task to accomplish before they took flight for Warmth, the presence of other Swarmers and the welcome they would receive on Nest, once he brought forth the news of a new colony world. Their loss of a six-group of nests plus one would be nothing when the colony news spread through Nest.

  “Speaker To All, link my scent to that of Support Hunter Seven.”

  “Scent linked,” the Servant said in a strong signal pheromone.

  On a side imager there appeared the black and red striped head of Hunter Seven. He who had thought to challenge his leadership of the colonizing Swarm. The young male had one last duty to perform. Perhaps he would survive it.

  “Support Hunter Seven, have you attacked the Soft Skin colony world?”

  “I have,” he replied in a mix of signal, trail and frustration pheromones. “A Soft Skin pursues us. It has killed one of our propulsive units.”

  Even better. “Then you cannot follow us out to the magnetic boundary as we head for Warmth, to later share the news of the new colony world with other Swarmers on Nest.” Seven’s five black eyes glistened in the white-yellow light of his Flight Chamber. “Take yourself and your nest out to the far reaches of this world assemblage. Hide among the balls of ice. Keep watch on what the Soft Skins do here, after we leave. We will return with many more nests to claim world three for our people!”

  The black
antennae of Seven drooped. It was clear he understood he was a sacrifice to be made in order to distract the Soft Skins from following One’s nest group.

  “This nest moves outward,” Seven said in a mix of primer, releaser and trail pheromones. There was no scent of aggregation in his reply. “My Servants, my Workers, my Fighters and my Matron will keep a high flight watch on the Soft Skins. Signal us when you return.”

  “I am a Hunter. You have my cohort promise that you will be signaled upon our return here to claim world three for the Swarm!”

  “My wings grow tired. Until you return.”

  Seven’s image vanished. On the imager that showed the nests of his people and of the Soft Skins, the nest of Seven now curved downward, in the opposite direction from the flight path One now followed with his three Support Hunters. As a Hunter, he felt pride that another Hunter now chose to lead the Soft Skin pests away from the other nests of the Swarm. Of course, every Swarmer nest had stingers in its tail, just like every living Swarmer. Surely Seven would fire on any pursuer. He might even survive to find refuge among the ice balls that flew about the outer edge of this world group.

  “Propulsive Servant, move our wing speed to maximum. Let us leave this pest-filled place.”

  “Moving us to maximum wing speed,” the Servant replied.

  One settled down on his bench and contemplated just how he would present the fact of the loss of another flying nest to the Swarmers now working to colonize Warmth. They would be a practice audience. When he and his three allied nests then flew to Nest, he would have the perfect scent and pheromone flow to make clear what had happened with the Soft Skins was not a defeat, but a fortunate discovery of a new colony world.