by Tori Harris
Right up to the moment before the Gunov had made her dramatic turn to port, her remaining consort to starboard had been dutifully maintaining her assigned position in the three-ship formation. Caught completely off guard by Commodore Sarafi’s frantic evasive action, she found herself alone, continuing along the same course she had been following for the last several minutes. As her helmsman hesitated, unsure of whether to attempt a left turning rejoin with the Gunov, she was an easy target for the third and final salvo of fifteen anti-ship missiles.
***
After the stunning success of his first attack against the Resistance cruisers, Captain Abrams had not expected to find himself in a situation where the same tactics might once again prove effective. Having suffered his own grievous losses to the Resistance battleships’ heavy guns, however, he had been looking for any opportunity to once again gain the upper hand — preferably while avoiding the necessity of another frontal assault.
The fleeing Theseus-class destroyer, while temporarily unable to transition and in grave danger of being destroyed, had nevertheless provided an unexpected, and much needed, bounty of real-time battlespace intelligence data. Armed with this precious information, Abrams had been granted the luxury of assessing the situation to determine his next move within the relative safety of hyperspace.
As difficult as it had been to watch helplessly as the Resistance warships ruthlessly eliminated the two most seriously damaged members of his task force, it was Commodore Sarafi’s next move that had finally provided the opportunity Abrams had been waiting for. In his haste to eliminate the third and final damaged Terran ship as a potential threat, Sarafi had allowed his three-ship formation to be drawn away from the bulk of his forces — drawn away at a predictable speed along a direct flight path towards his fleeing prey. Although Captain Abrams had dared not hope that this situation would remain in place long enough to be exploited, he had nevertheless gambled that placing two additional ships in Sarafi’s path might entice him to continue on his present course — with any luck, long enough to be targeted for a C-Drive-equipped missile strike.
At a range of approximately five light seconds (1.5 million km), three Theseus-class destroyers had transitioned back into normal space and immediately fired five HB-7c missiles each at the first of Sarafi’s three ships. As the missiles accelerated towards their distant target, control had been seamlessly transferred to one of the friendly warships directly in Sarafi’s flight path, which immediately began transmitting the precise targeting data the missiles required to successfully execute their C-Jump.
Abrams was well aware that he would need every weapon at his disposal for the coming fight against the Resistance battleships, and had initially considered waiting for a damage assessment before firing additional missiles. Realizing that he would almost certainly not be afforded an opportunity like this one again, however, he quickly fired the second and third salvos of fifteen missiles. Less than thirty seconds after the initial volley of missiles had been fired, the dramatic effects of the attack were graphically displayed on the tactical plots aboard all eleven of the remaining Theseus-class destroyers. No crewmember aboard any of the Human vessels had been more surprised by the results than Captain Bruce Abrams.
***
“Commodore, the three Terran vessels have destroyed all eighteen of our anti-ship missiles,” the Gunov’s tactical officer reported sheepishly. Although it was his job to report such things in a timely fashion to whomever was in command of the ship, the youngish Wek lieutenant was completely unwilling to report the obvious destruction of the other two Gresav-class destroyers that had until recently been members of their three-ship formation.
“Helm, maintain maximum power to the sublight engines and head back towards the remainder of our forces,” Sarafi ordered, ignoring his tactical officer and speaking in a surprisingly calm voice given his barely controlled rage of just moments before. “Continue random evasive maneuvers per Annex-Three of the TACPLAN and do what you can to prevent the Terran warships from closing on us.”
The words were like ash in his mouth at this point. With the knowledge in his possession at the outset of this battle, he knew that there was no excuse for his allowing the Humans to take advantage of their damnable hyperdrive-equipped missiles — not once, but twice. And there was no question in his mind that the blame for the tremendous losses suffered thus far would fall squarely on his shoulders. In Sarafi’s mind, only one path remained open that would salvage his career and indeed save his own life at this point. The attack on Terra must end in either the destruction of Human civilization, or in the very least a last stand worthy of uniting the Collective against them as well as their Pelaran benefactors.
“Aye, sir. Executing now,” he heard his Helm officer acknowledge from what seemed like a great distance.
With his task force now reduced to something approaching the minimum number of warships required to mount any sort of conventional attack on Terra, Sarafi realized that he could no longer afford to risk additional losses. While he fully expected that the very same ships he had engaged here would, in all likelihood, be waiting for him when he transitioned from hyperspace near the target, his task force’s arrival would immediately force the Humans into a defensive role. This alone, he hoped, would go a long way towards mitigating some of the losses he had already suffered.
“XO, see that the navigation systems from all remaining vessels are coupled to the Gunov’s and inform all vessels that we will transition to hyperspace momentarily. There will be no intermediate destination. We will proceed directly to Terra and execute our attack per the original plan. Once we are on our way, we will have roughly two Terran days in transit. During that time, I will communicate with our captains and address any last minute issues. Understood?”
“Of course, Commodore,” Freyda replied, doing an admirable job of hiding whatever reservations she might have had regarding their prospects for successfully completing their mission at this point.
“Very well. I will give you a few moments to complete your task, then I would like you to be a witness when I knowingly and purposely violate a number of Sajeth Collective security regulations.”
“I, uh …” she began hesitantly, “as you wish, sir.”
At his Command workstation, Sarafi worked quickly to bypass the security restrictions intended to prevent him from displaying classified information on a screen that was clearly not located in a secure location. He then removed the electronic safeguards intended to prevent data from being transferred between the Pelaran-derived surveillance drones at each of his rally points, then explicitly granted the Gunov full access to the AIs of every Resistance vessel at both locations. With that accomplished, he called up the same video surveillance feeds from the original rally point that he had been monitoring from the privacy of his ready room as well as a tactical situation display provided by a combination of ships’ AIs near the original rally point.
What he saw sent a series of involuntary chills running down the length of his spine. The situation was confused at best, but at first glance it appeared that the Baldev had been heavily damaged and might even be adrift based on its apparent movement. The Hadeon appeared largely undamaged — leave it to the Damaran to avoid any potential for damage, Sarafi thought bitterly. Her sister ship, the Keturah, looked to be in much the same shape as the Baldev, perhaps worse by the looks of her mangled stern. As for the two Shopak-class cruisers that were previously assigned to the detachment, the floating hulk of the Babayev was still in the same general area as before. The other vessel, the name of which escaped Sarafi at the moment, was nowhere to be seen. The Human warship, for its part, was an appalling mess to behold, but nevertheless gave the impression of still maneuvering under its own power — no doubt delivering far more damage to his forces than it had received.
“Comm, please hail Commander Miah aboard the Hadeon if you please,” Sarafi ordered.
“Uh, sir …” the comm officer began tentatively after a momentary pau
se, “begging your pardon, sir, but we have not yet established long-range communications with our vessels at the original rally point.”
Sarafi looked up from his display screen with a savage, but somewhat amused look on his face. “Please indulge me by following my orders, Lieutenant,” he replied. “Perhaps you will be surprised by the results.”
“Of course, Commodore, right away,” the young Wek officer said.
After a few moments of rapidly entering commands at his workstation, the communications officer turned in his chair to face Sarafi again. “I am sorry, sir, but the Hadeon is not responding.” Unsure if his commanding officer was simply mistaken or if he actually believed that they should be capable of contacting the BD cruiser from over half a trillion miles away, he stared earnestly at Sarafi and simply waited for a response.
“Unfortunately, that does not surprise me, Lieutenant. Try the Baldev please, and do it quickly. We need to depart for Terra as soon as possible before our enemy has time to organize for yet another attack.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied immediately, willing to do just about anything at this point to avoid further irritating the commodore.
“Sir, we have successfully coupled our navigation system to those of our remaining vessels,” Freyda reported. “All are prepared to depart on our signal.”
“Thank you, Commander. I expect we will do exactly that momentarily. Is the remaining BD cruiser capable of transitioning to hyperspace?”
“Yes, sir. As are all six Rusalov battleships for a total of eight.”
“It will be enough, Ragini. In any event, we have little choice in the matter at this point, eh?” he said with an ironic smile.
Freyda regarded him for a moment, thinking that such comments seemed oddly misplaced under the circumstances, then continued, “I also feel obligated to remind you of the three damaged cruisers requesting our assistance.”
Sarafi seemed shaken by her statement, and the distant look in his eyes led Freyda to believe that he truly had forgotten about the thousands of lives hanging in the balance aboard the stricken vessels.
“This is an active war zone, Commander,” he finally said. “It is indeed a regrettable situation, but rescue operations are simply not possible while the remainder of our ships are under attack. I fear we would end up losing more lives than we could possibly save. With any luck, the Human vessels will feel some obligation to assist them once we depart.”
Right. Just as we “helped” their damaged vessels? Freyda wondered.
“Commodore, I have Captain Ditanu Yagani of the battleship Baldev at our original Rally point,” the comm officer reported triumphantly.
“Nicely done, Lieutenant. I had every confidence that you would make it so,” he smiled. “On-screen, please.”
There was a momentary pause while a window opened on the bridge display screen to reveal Captain Yagani, a look of what might be described as surprised anguish on his face.
“Hello Captain. I am Commodore Naveen Sarafi aboard the Pelaran Resistance flagship Gunov. I regret not having the opportunity to speak with you before now and apologize in advance if I seem abrupt and direct. Our forces are under attack from the Terrans at the secondary rally point just as you appear to be at the first. I am unable to offer you any assistance at this time, but we will be departing for our attack on Terra momentarily. Is the Baldev still capable of hyperspace flight?”
“Commodore,” Yagani said, inclining his head respectfully. “No, unfortunately, we are unable to transition to hyperspace. We have taken heavy damage to our propulsion section, and many of our engineering and power generation spaces are unpressurized at the moment. All but one of our reactors jettisoned their containment units once our aft shields collapsed, so we have only minimal power available. Most of our engineering staff is missing and presumed killed, but the ones we have remaining tell me that we may lose power altogether. Captain Prescott of the Human vessel Theseus is offering to assist us, and I fear that I may have little choice but to accept.”
“I assume you have heard nothing from the other two Baldev-class battleships, Zhelov and Serapion?”
“I have not, although even their late arrival would be most welcome.”
“Alright, Captain Yagani, I need you to listen carefully to what I require of you, then I must depart for Terra with the remainder of our task force. Unfortunately, I believe we must assume that your ship will be under the control of the Humans by the time the Zhelov and Serapion arrive. Accordingly, I want you to launch a communications buoy that will relay the instructions I am about to transmit to your ship’s AI. Once the task force at the secondary Rally point transitions to hyperspace, the Terran ships here might well be sent to your location to assist the Theseus. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to risk the loss of any additional ships until we begin the attack on Terra itself.”
“So are saying that you intend to order the Zhelov and Serapion to depart for Terra as soon as they arrive without engaging enemy forces here?” Yagani asked evenly.
“I am afraid we have little choice at this point, Captain. The Baldev-class ships are twice as fast as the older Rusalovs we will be traveling with, so as long as they arrive within the next twenty-four hours, they should have little difficulty rendezvousing with the remainder of our forces at Terra in time to participate in our attack.”
“Understood,” Yagani replied with a scowl that clearly portrayed how he felt about the current situation.
In the already chaotic background noise aboard the Baldev, a new and urgent-sounding alarm sounded and immediately drew Captain Yagani’s attention to something not visible on Sarafi’s screen.
“I wish I could be of more assistance, Captain,” the commodore continued, “but perhaps the best thing I can do for you right now is let you get back to attending to your ship. Ah yes, one more thing before you go … what can you tell me of the BD cruiser Hadeon? She looks relatively undamaged, but I have been unable to contact Commander Miah.”
“The Hadeon has be … Com … at …” After a few additional seconds of sporadic, choppy video with no sound, the vidcon window on Gunov’s bridge display screen closed.
“The transmission was terminated at the source, sir,” the comm officer reported. “Shall I try establishing contact again?”
Sarafi thought about what he had just seen and heard, attempting to formulate some sort of logical explanation for how the Baldev and three other warships had been very nearly destroyed while the Hadeon — which was still in the immediate area — had suffered little if any damage. No scenario that came to mind seemed to fit the facts as he knew them at the moment, which was as frustrating as it was disturbing.
“Your thoughts, Commander Freyda?” he asked.
“Anything I might offer would be wild speculation at best, sir,” she replied, “and most likely wrong anyway. As you saw, however, Captain Yagani has his hands full trying to hold his ship together. Since we have nothing additional to offer him, I recommend we immediately depart for Terra before we come under renewed attack.”
“Contacts!” the tactical officer announced. “Eight of the Terran ships just transitioned back into the area, sir. It looks like they intend to remain in a single group this time.”
“Their range to the closest Rusalov?” Sarafi asked.
“Just over five hundred thousand kilometers.”
“Humph,” Sarafi grunted. “Perhaps they have learned to respect the Rusalovs’ main batteries. No missile launches detected?”
“No, sir. Stand by … all eight are launching fighters.”
“As you said, Commander Freyda, it is time we made our exit. Comm, please provide all warships with a thirty second transition warning and specifically remind the Rusalovs that the AI will need to disengage their supplemental shields before aligning them with our departure vector.”
“Aye, sir. Signaling now.”
Seconds later, with their twelve massive sublight engines now unencumbered by additional shielding, all six Rusalov battl
eships rotated smartly on their vertical axes and accelerated under maximum power at a rate that seemed to defy their tremendous size. Unable to resist the opportunity, each of the eight Terran warships immediately fired four anti-ship missiles in the direction of the nearest battleship. Just as the missiles tipped their noses over in the direction of their target and prepared to execute their C-Jump, however, the starfield around each of the Resistance ships blurred momentarily before the entire remaining task force disappeared in eight simultaneous flashes of gray light.
F-373 “Gamble 22,” Location Crossbow
(In hyperspace - 5.93x1011 km from Location Dagger)
“Outbound hyperspace transition signatures detected!” the fighter’s AI reported excitedly, causing its pilot to jump involuntarily.
“Wow, seriously? What was wrong with just saying ‘contacts’ like everyone else aboard every other ship since — forever?”
“That’s fine. But when I just say ‘contacts,’ I’m not providing you with any information about what I’m referring to. That forces you to say things like ‘clarify,’ or ‘classify,’ or else you get all nautical on me and say things like ‘where away?’”
“Alright, alright — I get it, whatever,” the pilot replied, quickly running through the series of tasks required for what he assumed would be an immediate departure. “It just seems a little weird to me that you would get so excited about it this time. We’ve been sitting here this whole time watching everything that’s been happening with Captain Abrams’ task force, so it’s not like it was a surprise or anything. You saw the Resistance ships transition just like I did.”
“True, but are you aware that this is the first time one of our ships has actually been able to actively gather data from hyperspace during a transition event? This could literally lead to our gaining a better understanding of —”
“Of how our own C-Drives work? Awesome. But as fascinating as that truly is, I’m pretty sure we’re about to get very busy again very quickly. Show me your ‘outbound hyperspace transition signatures,’ please.”
