by Tori Harris
“No, sir,” his tactical officer responded once again. “They are maneuvering to some degree, but their range has remained steady since they arrived.”
“Hmm. Well, at this point, we have given them more than enough time to perform a thorough reconnaissance of our forces, if that was their intent,” Sarafi remarked, half to himself. “Comm, go ahead and try hailing them. Perhaps having witnessed the extent to which their forces are outnumbered, their captain will be ready to discuss terms.”
“Aye, sir. Hailing.”
After a brief pause during which the two vessels’ AIs synchronized for real-time translation services, the face of a surprisingly confident-looking Terran male appeared on the Gunov’s view screen.
“I am Commodore Naveen Sarafi of the Sajeth Collective flagship Gunov. With whom do I have the honor of speaking?”
“This is Captain Bruce Abrams of the starship TFS Karna, here on behalf of Terran Fleet Command.” Like Prescott, Abrams had been uncomfortable having his crews address him as “commodore” during his independent command and privately thought the title both unnecessary and pretentious. “Commodore, I am afraid I have the unpleasant duty of informing you that the presence of your warships in such close proximity to the Sol System is seen as an act of aggression by our people. We have recently established diplomatic relations with the Sajeth Collective and have every reason to believe that our worlds will enjoy a long and prosperous friendship. I am sure you understand, however, that the space in the immediate vicinity of our homeworld is sovereign Terran territory. In the interest of our security and yours, we ask that you withdraw your forces immediately.”
“My sympathies, Captain. It is an unpleasant errand indeed on which your vessel was dispatched. Unfortunately, my orders are even less agreeable. I suspect you already know why we are here, do you not? It is our wish to avoid unnecessary violence, however, and I am optimistic that we can do so if you and whatever other forces you represent will agree to stand down.”
“I do have a pretty good idea why you are here, Commodore Sarafi, so I am not sure I am ready to accept your assertion that you would like to avoid unnecessary violence just yet. I implore you to take advantage of this opportunity to affirm and strengthen our new relationship. It is within your power to make Humanity a permanent ally today, sir, rather than run the risk of creating a dangerous enemy.”
“Under normal circumstances, I would like that of all things, Captain Abrams. Regrettably, that decision has already been made and it is beyond my power to countermand it at this point. Now — please — you are hopelessly outnumbered. Allow your vessel to be taken peaceably and no harm shall come to your crew.”
Abrams sighed audibly, looking down for a moment as if considering Commodore Sarafi’s offer. Seeming to come to a decision that, like his adversary’s, was largely made by others well in advance of today’s meeting, he looked up and regarded the Wek officer through narrowed eyes. “It is true, sir, that we are outnumbered, but I think you will find that we are far from hopeless.” With that, Abrams looked off to the side and nodded to an unseen member of his crew.
“Multiple contacts!” Sarafi’s tactical officer growled as eight separate two-ship formations of Theseus-class destroyers transitioned from hyperspace at locations around the perimeter of the Resistance task force. “A total of seventeen warships, Commodore … all with a configuration similar to the original contact.”
Sarafi paused, allowing his forces precious seconds to prepare for a confrontation with the Terran vessels. “Well, Captain,” he began again with a calculating smile on his face, “I suppose now I am obligated to ask you to state your intentions. Surely, we are both reasonable and clever enough to come up with a resolution that does not require the senseless deaths of thousands of our people.”
“That depends entirely on you at this point, Commodore. I am authorized to allow you to withdraw your forces. Your ships will be tracked until they have reached a distance of at least twenty-five light years from the Sol system. Beyond that, we will attempt to pursue a diplomatic solution to the current situation via the Sajeth Collective Governing Council.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I am authorized to cause the senseless deaths of thousands of your people,” Abrams replied, mirroring Sarafi’s smile. “But I sincerely hope that you will choose the former. I am sure you understand that we cannot allow —”
With a quick gesture to his communications officer, Sarafi terminated the tedious and clearly pointless conversation with the petulant Terran captain. Here was a situation that was truly as unfortunate as it was unexpected. There was plenty of evidence at this point that the Humans had fielded far more formidable forces than originally expected — in numbers, speed, and firepower. That being the case, perhaps it was reasonable to assume that they had sent every available vessel out to meet the Resistance threat once the location of their task force had been discovered. Keeping ships in reserve to defend the planet from attack certainly made sense if there were sufficient ships available to do so. What might a Terran admiral do, however, if he were presented with an opportunity to decisively engage the enemy, but had only twenty or so ships at his disposal? Sarafi felt sure that he knew what he would do in that situation, but thus far, the Humans had proven both resourceful and unpredictable, had they not?
And what did this development portend for the attack on Terra itself? The location of his task force’s rally point had been largely dictated by the capabilities (or lack thereof) of the older ships under his command. At this distance, even the most modern Sajeth Collective ships like the Gunov were still a full day’s travel from the planet. Even if he chose not to face the Human vessels here, and instead departed immediately for Terra, he had every reason to believe that these same enemy warships would be waiting for him when he arrived. No, under the circumstances, he had no choice but to destroy the Human ships here and now, then press on with the remainder of his mission with whatever forces he had remaining after the battle. Worst case, the Gunov herself was fully capable of completing the planetary attack alone — although doing so was an option Sarafi hoped to avoid, if possible.
“Sir, we are detecting multiple missile launches in progress from all of the Human vessels,” Sarafi’s tactical officer reported. “The fire control AIs from our two battlespace defense cruisers are now tracking nearly three hundred inbound missiles!”
“Understood. Comm, send from Flag to all vessels as follows: ‘Engage and destroy all Terran vessels. Coordinate attacks per battlespace defense AI to avoid inadvertently targeting friendly forces.’”
“Aye, Commodore.”
“The Human vessels have transitioned to hyperspace, sir,” Tactical reported.
“Yes, that appears to be a favored tactic of theirs,” he scoffed. “They will not have gone far. We need to take advantage of this time to intercept those missiles.”
“Aye, sir, the BD system has already developed firing solutions for all two hundred seventy-two enemy missiles utilizing beam and kinetic weapons from twenty of our vessels. They are relatively slow missiles, sir. The probability of intercept is ninety-four percent or greater for all inbound ordnance,” the tactical officer reported with a triumphant tone in his voice. “In fact, they are so slow that the system is pausing to all allow the missiles to reach optimal kill range.”
In a terrifying flash of situational awareness, Naveen Sarafi realized what he had missed while watching the Human ships at the original rally point so easily disable the Babayev, a massive and heavily shielded Shopak-class cruiser. “Tactical, override the BD system and order all ships to open fire now!” he roared. “Flag to all vessels, emergency, break to starboard, break to starboard, break to starboard!”
At an average distance of just over four hundred thousand kilometers from their intended targets, seventeen individual groups composed of sixteen HB-7c missiles each reached their predetermined velocity setpoints, engaged their miniaturized C-Drives, and transitioned to hyperspace.<
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It took mere seconds for all twenty-six Resistance ships to respond to the commodore’s order to take emergency evasive action. In an impressive display of Sajeth Collective command and control capabilities, each vessel rapidly increased power while immediately beginning a turn to the right of their previous course. Simultaneously, each vessel tasked with engaging one or more of the inbound missiles opened fire with all weapons that currently had a clear line of sight to their targets. Unfortunately, by the time the first, orange-tinted bolts of energy arrived at their projected points of impact, they passed harmlessly through the empty space that should have contained Terran missiles.
As fate and timing would have it, there were precisely the same number of cruisers present in the Resistance task force at the moment as there were Human destroyers available to target them. Fifteen of these were of the original Shopak-class design, while the remaining two were the critical Keturah-class BD cruisers — currently tasked with coordinating the task force’s efforts to defend against the Terran intruders.
The last thought that ran through Commodore Sarafi’s mind before the Human missiles found their targets was that he had managed to well and truly succeed in accomplishing at least part of the mission envisioned by the damnable politicians.
TFS Theseus, Location Dagger
(3.3 light years from Earth)
“Transition complete, Captain. Range to Charlie 4, two hundred kilometers … adjusting course and speed to park us on her six,” Ensign Fisher reported from the Helm console as the still-maneuvering enemy cruiser appeared as a small dot that rapidly expanded to fill much of the bridge view screen.
“Alright, Tactical, as soon as Fisher has you in position, execute your attack. I don’t have to tell you that the quicker we can take her out of action, the better,” Prescott said.
As if either officer manning the Tactical console needed further convincing on this point, the noise level on Theseus’ bridge rose sharply as a number of events occurred simultaneously. The first sound they heard was a series of urgent-sounding chirps from the Helm console indicating that the ship had once again been targeted by the Baldev’s gravitic beam.
“Bravo 1 has acquired us with her grav beam, sir,” Fisher reported immediately. “Hyperspace transitions unavailable.”
“Thank you, Ensign. That’s unfortunate, but not unexpected. Stay with your target,” Prescott replied evenly.
Next came the now all-to-familiar cacophony of sounds associated with incoming energy weapons fire — first from the aft weapons banks of their chase, then followed shortly thereafter by Bravo 1. Once more, Theseus’ reactors responded immediately, providing the vast amounts of power required to handle the steadily increasing number of shield intercept events occurring all around her hull.
“Only sporadic fire from the battleship so far, Captain. They’re probably worried about hitting their cruiser,” Schmidt observed from Tactical 1.
“As well they should be. I’m counting on their realizing at some point that when they miss us, there is some danger of hitting Charlie 4, but when they hit us, there’s an even better chance that our shields will deflect their rounds right into the cruiser’s drive section.”
“Bravo 1 has launched more fighters — a total of twenty-five now — and they appear to be heading in the general direction of Badger 21 Flight,” Lieutenant Lau reported.
“Is Badger 21 Flight still in a position to cover the Baldev’s stern for us?” Prescott asked.
“Yes, sir, but they may get distracted shortly.”
“Tactical, I need both of you stay focused on your attack run. Lieutenant Lee, please coordinate with all three Badger flights to make sure they keep Bravo 1 pinned down. They may not need our help handling the enemy fighters, but we’ll see what we can do after we deal with Charlie 4.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Lee responded from the Science and Engineering console.
For such a large warship, the BD cruiser Keturah was still surprisingly nimble. As Ensign Fisher maneuvered to stay on her tail, Theseus’ AI dutifully gathered a wide array of performance data in the hopes of revealing a vulnerability that might later be exploited to bring about her demise. Everything from the cruiser’s acceleration and turn rate/radius to minute changes in the apparent power output of her engines and shields while firing her energy weapons was measured, analyzed, and cataloged. With such a wealth of new data to work with, it didn’t take Theseus’ AI long to begin passing along various pieces of valuable information via the tactical assessment displayed on the bridge view screen. The first of these was an indication that the enemy vessel’s Wek designers had achieved significant improvements in maneuverability and power generation capacity over the original cruiser designs encountered previously.
“Fisher, the AI reports that your target is nearly thirty percent more maneuverable and has twenty-five percent more power output than the older cruisers we’ve run into before. I just thought you’d want to know,” Commander Reynolds chuckled. Time and again, she had seen Captain Prescott exhibit his sometimes quirky sense of humor at what seemed like the strangest of times. What she had come to realize, however, was that allowing crewmembers to fixate and become too intense in the heat of combat was a major performance killer. Glancing at her captain for a reaction, she received a knowing grin and a wink in reply.
“Uh … many thanks to the AI for that, ma’am,” Fisher replied. “That helps a lot … I guess. Seriously, though, I’m almost there, I just need a few more seconds.”
Although Theseus was clearly the more maneuverable of the two warships, matching the enemy cruiser’s aggressive and seemingly random changes in speed and direction was turning out to be a bigger challenge than the young helmsman had expected.
“Missile launch!” Lieutenant Lau reported from Tactical 2. “Bravo 1 just ripple-fired three two missiles from her ventral launch tubes. Time to impact, three eight seconds.”
“Lieutenant Lee, launch countermeasures. All weapons to point defense mode,” Prescott responded without hesitation.
“Countermeasures, aye. Beam and kinetic weapons switching to point defense mode. Sea-whiz online and tracking inbound missiles,” Lee replied.
“Now would be a good time, Tactical,” Prescott said, the first hints of urgency creeping into his voice.
“They must think they’ve got us in a pretty tight spot to risk hitting their own cruiser with a stray missile,” Reynolds said, leaning to her left so that only Prescott could hear.
“They probably do, and they’re probably right. They know we can’t transition, and they also know we’ll be reluctant to break off this attack in an effort to avoid their missiles.”
Reynolds glanced at the tactical plot, noting the positions of the decoys designed to duplicate the emissions characteristics of the destroyer and fool the incoming missiles into chasing them instead. Thus far, all thirty-two inbound missiles appeared to be ignoring the decoys and heading directly for the Theseus. As she watched, the display updated to display the rapidly closing missiles in an ominous pulsating red that sent a chill of déjà vu coursing down the length of her spine.
“Time to impact, two niner seconds,” Lee updated.
***
At a point roughly halfway between the Theseus and Bravo 1, all thirty-six fighters assigned to Badger 1 Flight transitioned into normal space. Just as before, every spacecraft was positioned so that it was afforded a clear line of fire — this time at the anti-ship missiles fired by the Baldev. Realizing the destroyer’s tenuous position, Captain Zhukov allocated a total of four HB-7c missiles for each enemy missile targeting the Theseus. Just three hundred milliseconds after the Reapers transitioned, one hundred and twenty-eight of the multimission-capable missiles leapt from their underwing pylons and accelerated rapidly away from the fighters.”
“Badger 1 Flight - Fox Alpha!” Captain Zhukov announced over the tactical comm channel. By convention, the “Alpha” designation was an indication that the versatile missiles were being l
aunched in what would have once been considered “air-to-air” mode. At such close range, the missiles’ onboard C-Drives were unnecessary. Instead, each weapon received initial targeting instructions from its fighter before launch, then relied on a sophisticated suite of internal sensors to ensure a successful intercept of its target.
A reactionless Cannae drive, without the blazing engine nozzle still used in similar Wek-designed weapons, propelled each Terran weapon along a short, predetermined course towards the location where its flight path would intercept one of Bravo 1’s missiles. Accordingly — in the visible spectrum at least — the Human missiles were all but invisible as their onboard processors made final, minute course corrections in an effort to achieve clean, “skin-to-skin” hits on their targets.
Perhaps even more difficult to detect, however, were two cylindrical pods deployed by two of the Baldev’s original nine fighters shortly before they had been destroyed by Badger 22 Flight. Designed originally to operate autonomously, each Carrada Area Denial Weapons pod was capable of positioning itself within a designated anti-access zone in the hopes of complicating the efforts of enemy forces attempting to achieve tactical superiority — particularly with small, fighter-class spacecraft. In this case, the Baldev’s fighters had simply released the pods at a location roughly half the distance to the Keturah in anticipation of precisely this sort of opportunity.
Using data provided by the battlespace defense system to calculate the closest approach of Badger 1 Flight, each pod now pivoted in the direction of the oncoming fighters and fired three kinetic energy interceptors. Rather than relying on their own source of propulsion — which would have dramatically increased the size and complexity of the system — each interceptor was fired from a rail launcher not unlike those used by railgun and plasma torpedo mounts aboard TFC vessels. While somewhat limited in power due to their size, each pod was equipped with a gravitic generator capable of counteracting the inertia of its projectiles during launch. This allowed each interceptor to cover the relatively small distance to their targets at a speed of over seven thousand kilometers per second.
