by Will Crudge
“It’s arcing around us in loops.” Thomas noted calmly.
“Well, that means if we’re not dead, then it’s friendly!” Lisa got excited and tried to push her way to the front. She and Thomas were just lumbering hulks of metal and flesh.
“Quit it!” Thomas said. “If they see all this horsing around, then the bio-marker suppression won’t matter!”
“But if they don’t see any life-forms on scan, then we’re as good as dead!” Lisa sneered.
Thomas paused for a moment and considered her logic. It made sense after all. Even if they meant to do them harm, they stood a better chance fighting their way out when they breached the pod. But if it was a friendly craft, then they’d sign their own death certificate by continuing their stealthy ruse.
The Lance Corporal just watched the blue-ish blur whiz around them in a stable arc. He weighed his options, and was on the cusp of switching off the bio-marker dampener when he saw a projectile heading their way.
He simply froze. Then toyed with the idea of telling his teammates. He wondered if they’d prefer not to know they were about to die. But by the time he decided to open his mouth, the project hit them with a dull thump. The entire pod shuttered, and random pieces of lose gear began to bounce around the inside of the pod. They had decided to conserve power by switching off the A-grav, but now they all regretted it.
“What the hell was that?” Todd screamed. “Was that debris?”
“No!” Thomas shouted back. Then he labored to turn his head as far around as he could to look at his teammates. “It’s a tow-cable! We’re being reeled in!”
***
Meanwhile aboard the Star Fury…
“General?” Major Philistine, the ship’s CAG, reported. She spun her head around to the Command Console, where the general was tracking his forward squadrons.
“Talk to me, CAG!” Cooper said while keeping his eyes on his own display. He knew his Commander Air Group, Major Philistine wouldn’t bother him unless something required his direct authority.
“Sir, both squadrons have a Crimson medium cruiser within weapons range. They’re confident that they haven’t been picked up on scan, but they need permission to engage. Squadron commanders are requesting Weapons Free.” She replied. Cooper looked up at her with an appraising expression. He couldn’t help but wince as the silky black bun her hair was tied up in was reflecting a glare right into his glasses.
“What ordinance do they have on-hand?” Cooper asked.
“Each squadron has birds equipped with eight SK’s a piece, Sir.” She replied. The Ship Killer missiles would increase the odds of a decisive first strike.
Cooper measured is options. Their current mission involved absolute secrecy, and tangling with a Crimson ship that may not have detected them on scan may alert the enemy to their disposition. However, there was no way to confirm if the enemy warship had detected them. The sixteen total SK’s would all but ensure the ship could be taken out before transitioning into slip-space. The answer was clear.
“FCO!” General Cooper called out for his Fire Control Officer. “Get me a KEPL solution on the enemy vessel!”
“I’ve got one worked up, Sir” Major Fulmer replied. He was a tall man with a cartoonish face and bright red hair. “But at this range, I can only do a guided RAP munition.”
Cooper knew that the Rocket Assisted Projectile round could only be fired by his direct order, and the fire control officer could not be delegated to fire it on his own discretion. There were only six RAP rounds on board, and each one cost as much as a brand new frigate.
“I authorize RAP to be loaded.” Cooper stated clearly. He knew that the voice and data recorders had to capture him saying it clearly in order to satisfy the established protocols. Every word had to be verbatim for legal reasons. RAP rounds that were miss-used, or used on targets that didn’t meet strict criteria, could be considered a violation of the Law of War.
“I confirm authorization for RAP to be loaded.” Fulmer responded with the proper brevity.
Several agonizing moments passed without a word spoken. The entire command crew knew that when an engagement of this magnitude was being processed that unnecessary chatter was prohibited. But then the silence was broken as the FCO sounded off once more.
“One RAP round is locked and loaded in primary KEPL!” The FCO said with meticulous annunciation.
“I acknowledge, RAP round locked and loaded in primary KEPL.” Cooper gave the appropriate legal response.
“RAP solution set… AI verification green… Prepared to engage on your command.” The FCO stated methodically.
“I confirm solution set… I confirm AI verification green… Engage! Engage! Engage!” General Cooper sounded off.
“I confirm order to engage.” The FCO spouted back. “Round out!”
Now the obligatory legal narrative was complete, and Cooper could speak freely to order his follow-up attack. “CAG!”
“Yes, Sir!” The CAG replied with a feminine, yet remarkably stern tone.
“Send the estimated RAP engagement counter to the squadron commanders. I authorize them to go to weapons free when the count hits eleven seconds!” Cooper ordered.
“I copy, weapons free authorized at eleven seconds on engagement clock!” She replied.
General Cooper had already calculated the PK’s estimated time of flight from the squadrons’ stand-off distance. He wanted the RAP round to hit the enemy within a second or two of the SK’s follow up strike. This allowed for two things. First, the RAP round’s ninety ton mass would completely overwhelm the cruiser’s shielding, and allow the PK’s to hit with full kinetic force unhindered. Second, the PK’s required the fighters to be traveling at a relatively velocity in concert with the closing distance determined by the estimated enemy hull density. The relativistic velocity of the missile at launch, would add additional kinetic energy to allow for maximum penetration before the explosive warhead detonated.
It was all a well-choreographed dance of death. But it would be another agonizing fifteen minutes before the engagement would take place. The RAP round would certainly add to the overall velocity of the KEPL strike, but also had another critical feature…. Since the visual and energy scans were subject to the length of time that photons and other energetic particles made it to the Star Fury’s and Mark-8’s sensors, the enemy ship may change its vector or velocity in the mean-time. The RAP round could make fine-tuned adjustments to account for this. The only thing that hung in the balance, was whether or not the cruiser transitioned into slip-space before the ordinance arrived in the same point in space.
Eventually the engagement clock hit zero, and it would take at least another fifteen minutes to get the battle damage assessment. But it would come at least.
“BDA reported, Sir!” The CAG sounded off.
“Go ahead.” Cooper replied.
“Enemy Cruiser destroyed... Nine SK’s expended… Six direct hits… Two went wide… One unobserved!” She reported. The CIC was all cheers, but Cooper had to wave them off, as he saw the FCO trying to report the status of the RAP engagement.
“Report, FCO!” Cooper sounded off.
“Direct hit with RAP! Shields collapsed, Keel severed!” The FCO yelled with a joyous tone. But this time the General allowed the following cheers to erupt unhindered. The mission was a success, and the ill-fated UAHC light cruiser was avenged.
It didn’t take an elite physicist to calculate the odds of survival for the medium cruiser. The enemy ship sustained direct hits with 213% more firepower than was projected to completely destroy a warship of that hull-type. The CSS Cerberus was nothing more than a field of floating debris.
The divine justice of the universe had prevailed, yet again!
Reeling in the Catch of the Day
Location: UAHC Sloop, Foehammer, Aft Magazine
Date Time: Post Interstellar 10/13/4201 1112HRS UAHC Standard Zulu
System: Faust System, Heliopause
The Skull-Crusher re
leased the pod into a calculated drift towards the sloop, and then peeled off to align itself for docking within the fore magazine. Both the fore and aft magazines had been converted to docking bays during the refit while the mid magazine had been converted to a spacious crew berthing area. Since the LRF-90’s designated berthing was in the fore section, the escape pod would have to slide into the aft.
The aft magazine was much larger than the others, since the ship’s hull tapered into the ships axe-shaped hull, and the additional width of the aft section was necessary for the stern-mounted main thruster array. Even though there was already a shuttle, and three full-sized main battle mechs in the after magazine area, the pod would have plenty of latitude to come in for a safe landing.
David, Kelley, and Elizabeth were already in the bay waiting for the pod’s approach. Napo, the mighty tiger just laid splayed out on the deck in the center of the bay whilst snoring conspicuously.
The blast door of the magazine had once served as a portal to dispense heavy mines and stand-alone missile platforms to be pre-staged in open space. A perimeter of deadly mines and stand-alone missile emplacements would then provide a funnel of protection for drop ships carrying ground troops from space, and bringing them down to terrestrial planets, space stations, or even other ships. But now all those square meters of decking were put to a different use.
Kara came rushing through the bulkhead door that connected the aft magazine to the newly built crew berthing area, but Elizabeth stepped out in front of her before she was seen by anyone else. The freckle-faced War Master just smiled at Kara, but the taskforce commander was taken by surprise.
“What is it?” Kara asked with a tone of impatience.
“Your hair!” Elizabeth whispered with a giggle as she was trying to work her fingers through Kara’s partly matted hair.
“Oh my! I forgot to brush it!” Kara slumped down slightly, and tried to use the War Master’s taller stature to hide from the others. Elizabeth managed to get Kara’s hair in a somewhat presentable state with a flurry of fingers which formed a make-shift comb, and then nodded with a smile.
“There you go. It’s not perfect, but it will keep you from looking like a hobo!” Elizabeth winked. Kara returned the wink in kind, and decided she was grateful to have the War Master on her crew. She missed Jimma and Sasha terribly, but she knew that her friend needed to sort through her own affairs before she could focus on the greater good.
“How we lookin’, Steve?” David asked.
“How the hell do I know, Captain?” Steve replied from the speakers embedded in Kara’s armor. David just wheeled around to find where the sound was coming from. Kara realized that David must not have known the AI went out for a reluctant joy-ride.
“His node is in my armor, David.” Kara interjected. “I asked him to do some calibrations of my armors new sensor array, so his node was onboard my fighter when we got the call.” She could sense that David had reservations about the ship’s main AI being taken off-line during the middle of a highly sensitive operation, so she mentally chastised herself for not thinking it through.
“Very well, Ma’am.” David gave an expressionless response.
“Just Kara will do.” She replied. “If your CO breaks one protocol…” she pointed towards her armor’s AI node port. “Then I can’t ask you to follow every one of them to the letter, can I?”
David smiled. Kara sensed a vibe of approval from the older battle-hardened Soldier.
“Hey, Cap…” Skull chimed in. “I’m on the wireless ship net… I can cover for Steve if you or Kara pass the auth-token.”
“You’ve got it now, Skull.” David replied.
“I’m in.” Skull replied. “Looks like our vector matching is lined up just fine… I personally would have done a few different tweaks, but I gotta hand it to James… He’s a pretty damn good pilot for a meat-sack!”
“I heard that!” James came over the intercom.
“Alright, fellas!” Kara cut in. “Stay focused.”
James sent an acknowledgement icon to Kara’s internal HUD… Skull just sent her a collage of horse penis images. All she could do was shake her head and try not to laugh. It was a difficult proposition to remain stoic with a crew like this, she figured.
Kelley was already on the left side of the open bay door, and Elizabeth was on the right side. Both of them were hugging the bulk-head walls, and each one were holding telescopic poles. Each pole was anchored by a thick metal chain-link that connected it to a robust ball-bearing swivel mounted to the deck’s surface. The poles could be rapidly extended or retracted by thumb controls, and the poles were tipped with magnetic clasps for hooking onto heavy things. They were remnants of the ship’s original mine-laying configuration, and were used as a secondary system for either deploying, or recovering mines in open space. The original automated system had been removed during the refit, but David had insisted they kept the pole system in-place. It was a good thing too.
Moments later, the escape pod was drifting within ten meters of the bay. As it closed within five meters, Kelley and Elizabeth reached out through the energy shield to try and attach the hooks. It was a tedious thing to watch, and no one made a single sound amidst the tension. Only the audible buzzing of ever-shifting frequencies that stemmed from the poles maneuvering through the energy shield could be heard.
As the pod came within a single meter of the shield, both poles managed to get a secured grasp of the pod. Kelley and Elizabeth immediately reached down and latched the support apertures to the bases of their poles as the pod began to penetrate the shielding. Had the pod drifted into the field without the apertures in place, then the gravity within the bay would have pulled it down to impact the deck haphazardly.
Kara let out a nervous breath she was holding in as she watched the pod be guided into the center of the open deck.
“Napo, move!” Kelley scoffed. The big tiger was still snoring away blissfully, but then let out a snort a second after he heard Kelley shout. He lifted his bulky head, and looked up at the hovering pod above him. He let out a long and deliberate yawn, before reluctantly rising to his paws and walked away.
The pod was lowered to the deck with a light thud, and David walked up to secure anchoring straps to the fixed points along the barrel-shaped pods mid-section. The hatch was now on top of the pod in relation to its current position, and Kara pushed a ladder platform with wheels at the base. David climbed the stairs, and the weight of his body compressed the springs of the wheeled suspension, which allowed the ladder frame to make firm contact with the deck plates below.
David began releasing the latches, and after a few moments, the hissing of equalizing atmosphere filed the room. Once the sound dissipated, he continued to loosen the latches and he reached for the pull-handle. With a single yank, the heavy metallic hatch opened up and rested back on a support hinge, which held it in the opened position. The Captain then leaned forward and stuck his head over the opened hatch to look inside.
“Any baddies in there?” Kelley called up to David.
“Worse!” He lifted his head to lock eyes on her with a frown. “FISTER’s!”
Juggernaut
Location: UDF Juggernaut, Ragnarok, Main Docking Bay
Date Time: Post Interstellar 10/18/4201 1112HRS UAHC Standard Zulu
System: Slip-Space
Darius stood next to Admiral Zeff while Shadow hopped down from the ladder of the Doom-Raptor. He took his eyes off of his massive feline companion, and then looked to Zeff. The Admiral’s half-chewed cigar nearly fell out of his gaping mouth as the old Soldier took in the cavernous views of the gigantic docking structure.
“You’re about to lose your cigar, old friend!” Darius chuckled. Zeff barely acknowledged him, but then slowly reached up to slide the base of the cigar deeper within his left cheek. He never took his eyes off the amazing views that surrounded them.
Darius joined his friend, and began to take in the spectacle himself. The bay was at least two kilometers
long, and a two hundred meters high. Rows of neatly arranged heavy cruisers spanned the length of the bay. Each one rested on a gantry cradle that was securely fastened to the deck, and could support the megaton hulls with ease. The ships all belonged to Zeff’s Ghost Fleet, and he wanted to inspect their berthings personally.
They each had been briefed about the general specs of the Juggernaut class of warships, but neither men had taken the opportunity to come on board one up until then. Zeff’s ships were all comprised of a variety of different generations of warships that Unum had mothballed over the course of many centuries. All of them had been built on contract, but for a myriad of reasons, the new owners had either backed out of their contracts, or just ceased to exist prior to taking delivery.
Unum kept them in moth-ball, and had even maintained or upgraded them throughout the centuries. Zeff went on to explain the details at length, while the two took in the view of the eclectic mix of hull-types. Depending on how far along in the construction process each hull-type was in during the time they’d been cancelled, some were scrapped or repurposed, but others that were near completion were completed and mothballed for future use. Most non-military hulls were scrapped or sold at wholesale prices, but the military spec hulls were often so well constructed, that scrapping them was more resource intensive than it was worth. So, more than a thousand warships just accumulated as a result.
Zeff went on to explain that after the last war, when the Crimson began to hunt down and kill Soldiers on inactive status, Val and Midas came up with the Ghost Fleet concept. The Soldiers were often killed off in very crafty ways to avoid a pattern of subterfuge by the Crimson Alliance. Staged suicide scenes or unfortunate accidents, helped keep the UAHC Fleet forces in the dark. Since the Civilian Quorum forbade the military from having a reserve force on-hand, the inactivation of Soldiers would provide a legal loophole that the military could use to call up additional man-power. But that man-power was being systematically thinned out by the Crimson Agents operating in UAHC controlled space.
