The Terran Fleet Command Saga BoxSet

by Tori Harris

  “Yes, sir. Our destroyers and fighters are well clear of the engagement zone and all four cruisers have signaled that they are ready to execute their attack plan.”

  “Make your target Bravo 1 and execute. Jump fire jump, Commander.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  ***

  As one, the battle line of four cruisers: Shoshone, Chickasaw, Shawnee, and Koori — each named to honor indigenous warrior cultures from the areas near their respective construction sites — disappeared in spectacular flashes of grayish-white light. At virtually the same instant, the line of ships reappeared in the same dramatic fashion, but now less than one hundred thousand kilometers from their first target. Before their transition to hyperspace, each ship had altered its course slightly so that their formation was perfectly aligned to concentrate its firepower on the first Rusalov-class battleship in the enemy line.

  The Navajo-class cruisers had been designed from the ground up as a platform for their primary weapons — a total of eight massive railguns dual-mounted atop the largest fully articulated turrets ever constructed. Both the dorsal and ventral mounts were capable of turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, and in spite of their nearly seventy-five-meter length from hull mount to the tips of their barrels, could rotate at just over fifteen degrees per second. With their first target lying directly ahead, however, all four mounts were currently trained forward along each cruiser’s longitudinal axis.

  The railguns themselves were not unlike their much smaller cousins mounted on virtually every Fleet vessel, and a munitions engineer from as far back as the early twenty-first century would easily be able to recognize most of the weapon’s primary components. What differentiated this gun from countless generations that had come before was its scale, as well as its ability to accelerate a projectile rivaling the size of those fired by World War I battleships to relativistic speeds. Now, just before the rails lining the inner walls of each gun were energized, a series of emitters produced an intense gravitic field along the entire length of the barrel. Within each gun’s breech, it took less than three milliseconds for the four-hundred-and-twenty-five-kilogram kinetic energy penetrator to be forcefully centered between the launch rails with an audible PING as its mass was temporarily reduced to zero. The ship’s fire control AI then took over, completing and verifying the calculations required to optimize the conditions within the railgun itself as well as ensuring that the projectile would hit its target nearly one hundred thousand kilometers away within centimeters of its intended point of impact. With all required tasks now completed, the AI issued its final clearance to fire. The end result was a tremendous burst of energy being shunted directly from the cruiser’s reactors to each railgun turret — instantly propelling the round out of each weapon’s muzzle at just over ten percent the speed of light.

  Unlike the main batteries mounted on the enemy Rusalov-class battleships, the Terran Navajos made much more efficient use of gravitic fields. This allowed their guns to fire more rounds simultaneously (eight versus six) at a higher rate of fire (five salvos per minute versus two), all while transmitting negligible ‘recoil’ forces back to the warship itself. While the Rusalovs’ guns did fire larger (eight hundred and twenty-five kilogram) rounds, the Navajos’ projectiles crossed the intervening space to their intended targets at six times the velocity of the Rusalovs’ shells. This fact alone meant that the Terran cruisers enjoyed a significant advantage in both accuracy and firepower compared to the older Sajeth Collective battleships.

  The first salvo took less than three and a half seconds to reach the first Resistance battleship, with each shell initially carrying over two hundred petajoules of energy — roughly that of the largest nuclear weapon ever tested on the Earth’s surface.

  ***

  “Multiple impacts, sir!” Patterson’s tactical officer reported.

  “Very well. We need to assess as quickly as possible whether or not the first target is neutralized. Based on what we’ve seen before, Wek shields have some difficulty stopping railgun rounds, but they still do manage to reduce their effectiveness quite a bit.”

  “That may have been the case here as well, Admiral, but I can confirm solid hits from all thirty-two rounds on the first battleship. I’m seeing significantly reduced power output, secondary explosions, and her engines appear to be offline.”

  Thank God, Patterson thought, daring for the first time to consider that his forces might actually have the upper hand in this fight.

  “The remaining two Rusalovs just fired their main batteries,” the commander continued. “One two rounds in flight. Time to impact, one eight seconds. Our cruisers have adjusted course and are transitioning to hyperspace.”

  “Excellent. Designate Bravo 2 as the new primary target and have them set up as quickly as possible for another shot,” Patterson ordered, turning to check the status of his small reserve force, now consisting of two destroyers and two frigates. For the moment, he still believed that allowing his cruisers to continue firing on the enemy battleships was a reasonable course of action — for as long as their current tactics remained effective, that is. After all, just a few more salvos like the last would reduce the Resistance task force to such a degree that they might well withdraw. The real problem was the Gunov. In his mind, she still represented the most significant threat against the planet itself, and he was impatient to bring her to action as quickly as possible — hopefully either disabling or destroying her before she could launch her Sazoch bio weapon. Unlike the Rusalovs, however, she was capable of rapid hyperspace transitions, and would almost certainly do so immediately if she were targeted by his cruisers. Further complicating the situation was the fact that Captain Abrams’ destroyer force was largely useless at the moment. It was simply too dangerous to allow them to engage the Gunov as long as the cruisers were blazing away with their main guns.

  Patience, he counseled himself. No rash decisions … no mistakes.

  “Sir, we’ve got a problem,” the commander said, calling his attention back to the holo table. “Shoshone and Chickasaw transitioned to their next initial point, but Shawnee and Koori did not. They are maneuvering in an attempt to avoid the incoming rounds, but —”

  “Time to impact?” Patterson interrupted.

  “Six seconds … missile launch, sir!” the tactical officer reported tensely as the holographic table automatically zoomed in on a series of strobing red ovals moving rapidly away from the two largest enemy battleships. “I’ve got multiple missiles in flight — launched from both of the Baldevs.”

  “Damn,” Patterson said under his breath, fearing that he already knew the reason his two cruisers had failed to transition.

  Chapter 20

  TFS Theseus

  (2.5x106 km from Earth)

  “Something’s wrong,” Commander Reynolds said in a low voice that only her captain could hear. “Two of our cruisers didn’t transition.”

  Since returning from their rendezvous with the Gresav, Prescott had been working with the other captains in his small reserve force to strategically position their ships. Although they represented only a small fraction of TFC’s available firepower in the immediate area, he knew that their presence could become critically important, depending on how the battle progressed.

  “Are Shawnee and Koori still firing their main guns?” Prescott asked, glancing up at the tactical plot. “It could be that their captains saw an opportunity to get in another salvo or two before moving to the next IP … particularly since the two Baldevs haven’t opened fire yet.”

  “No, sir, they are not. And if they don’t get out of the way within about ten seconds, they’re going to get clobbered by incoming rounds from the two remaining Rusalovs.”

  “Sir, the signature is pretty faint from here, but I think the Zhelov and Serapion are using the same gravitic beam weapon that the Baldev did at Location Dagger,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt reported gravely from Tactical 1.

  “Missile launch!” Lieutenant Lau announced
from Tactical 2. “Zhelov and Serapion are launching missiles, sir. Our cruisers are taking evasive action to avoid the incoming rounds, but —”

  “But it won’t be enough,” Prescott replied. “The Rusalovs’ shells are self-guided … there’s not enough time.”

  “Multiple impacts,” Schmidt reported. “Our AI indicates five nuclear-enhanced naval artillery impacts on each cruiser, Captain.”

  “Dear God,” Reynolds gasped.

  From Theseus’ current position, the port sides of each cruiser were visible, allowing her crew to witness all five of the flashes produced by the shells’ warheads. On each ship’s ventral surface — currently shaded from the light of the sun — the plumes of fire erupting from the location of each impact were as spectacular as they were terrifying.

  “Time to impact on the missiles?” Prescott asked.

  “They were fired too close to their targets for a direct flight path, sir,” Lau said, “but the first will still arrive in three zero seconds. Both of our cruisers have opened fire with their weapons in point defense mode, but their overall power output has dropped by about six zero percent.”

  “Dubashi, send an Emergency Action Message to all Fleet vessels as follows: One. Believe two largest Resistance battleships of the Baldev-class equipped with gravitic beam weapon. Two. Beam prevents a single target from transitioning to hyperspace. Three. Demonstrated range of at least five hundred and fifty thousand kilometers. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir, transmitting now.”

  “Look sharp, everyone,” Prescott said in a tone intended to refocus his crew’s attention. “We obviously were not expecting to see the gravitic beam weapon employed by these two Baldevs, but the admiral has a couple of contingency plans in place for this situation. I suspect we may be called into action shortly.”

  Reynolds shot him a dubious look, knowing full well that the “contingency plans” he was referring to were risky, “worst-case” options at best.

  TFS Navajo, Earth-Sun Lagrange Point 2

  (Combat Information Center - 1.5x106 km from Earth)

  “Belay my previous targeting order,” Patterson said. “Designate Bravo 4 as the new primary target. Signal Shoshone and Chickasaw to fire as soon as they are in position — danger close. Remind them to also check their field of fire beyond their targets. They’ll be firing back in our general direction this time … and the Earth itself is a very big target. They are to hold this new position and fire continuously until ordered to do otherwise. With any luck, we’ll either take the two Baldevs down or at least force them to discontinue their attack. Oh, and have Captain Abrams move his two destroyer groups around to cover the flanks of the second firing location and tell him I want C-Drive-equipped missiles in flight, just in case. Either way, we may need to commit his ships to battle shortly.”

  “Aye, sir,” the tactical officer replied. “There are seven six hostile missiles in flight at this time. Time to impact for the first of these is one four seconds. The inbound missiles should begin reaching the cruisers’ point defense barriers anytime. Still no energy weapons fire from the two Baldevs, sir.”

  “They probably figure it’s unnecessary at this point. Our cruisers have already taken several major artillery hits and right now each one has thirty-eight anti-ship missiles inbound.”

  “Admiral,” Ensign Fletcher called, “Captain Prescott aboard the Theseus confirms that the two Baldevs are using a gravitic beam weapon to prevent our two cruisers from transitioning.”

  “Acknowledge and tell Prescott that he is to monitor the Gunov closely. If she makes any indication of commencing her attack on the planet, the reserve force is to pursue and destroy. Make sure Prescott understands that his ships are not to approach the primary engagement zone.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “The Rusalovs have fired again,” the tactical officer reported, his steady stream of dire reports now taking on the cadence of a judge delivering a lengthy, monotone death sentence to Patterson’s ear. “Time to impact, one eight seconds. All four Resistance battleships have engaged their supplemental aft shields.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Patterson said resignedly. “They’re worried about us launching C-Drive-equipped missile strikes, but they also think they have us on the ropes. So they’ve throttled back, raised their aft shields, and now they’re planning to sit tight and slug it out until all of our major combatants are out of the fight.”

  Patterson paused, forcing his disciplined mind to ignore the frightful destruction being visited on his forces while taking in the vast quantities of information being presented on the various displays around the Combat Information Center. As he struggled to distill multiple data sources into some sort of strategy that might still offer a means of salvaging the situation, his glance paused momentarily on the holographic table. The two groups of anti-ship missiles were highlighted in an angry red as they completed their final, relentless approach to the two already heavily damaged cruisers. On the far left side of the table, he also noted the approach of the next salvo of nuclear-tipped shells fired from the Rusalovs’ main guns. Whispers of despair were playing at the edge of his consciousness when his peripheral vision detected a flashing blue icon displayed on a nearby bulkhead-mounted view screen.

  “I’m afraid we may well lose the Shawnee and Koori, Commander,” he said solemnly, “but I think Sarafi may have just made his first big mistake. Weapons hold on Shoshone and Chickasaw!”

  ***

  To the extent that current Pelaran and Grey-enhanced technology allowed, TFC’s engineers had designed all of their combat vessels to keep their crews alive while remaining in the fight for as long as possible — even after sustaining heavy damage. At nine hundred and fifty meters in length, the Navajo-class cruisers’ tremendous size had provided her designers with an unprecedented opportunity to construct the ultimate expression of this design philosophy.

  The ships were equipped with a large hangar bay, as well as the cavernous internal spaces required to embark a Marine Expeditionary Unit of approximately twenty-three hundred troops along with all of their accompanying equipment. Still, the ships’ size had been dictated primarily by their massive main guns, resulting in the unusual situation of the engineers having met all of the various mission requirements while still having internal space to spare. Rather than “waste” that unused space on such luxuries as more spacious accommodations for the relatively small crew, the designers had instead opted to roughly double the thickness of the ships’ outer armor. Design decisions such as these, while seemingly minor at the time they were made, could sometimes produce unexpected, far-reaching results — occasionally even changing the course of history. Now, as the already heavily damaged cruisers shook violently from the impacts of multiple anti-ship missiles, the fate of the entire world hinged on their ability to remain in the fight for just a short while longer.

  SCS Gunov

  (7.1x106 km from Earth)

  “Why have Zhelov and Serapion not opened fire with their energy weapons?” Sarafi asked impatiently. “Better yet, why are they not ignoring the first two targets altogether and shifting their fire to the undamaged enemy ships? Surely the first targets no longer represent a significant threat. If we continue this leisurely pace, however, the other two will soon be in position to resume their attack.”

  “Based on the catastrophic damage cause by the Humans’ first round of artillery attacks, the two Baldevs’ AIs automatically rerouted power from their energy weapons to their shields,” Commander Freyda replied without looking up from her Command workstation. “It assumed, incorrectly, that the targets were likely to be destroyed by the missile strike and Rusalov artillery impacts. With your permission, I will override this precaution. The data indicates that the Terran cruisers’ main guns have more than enough energy to penetrate our shields, even if we drive them well beyond their design limits.”

  “Of course, do it!” Sarafi bellowed, sensing the outcome of the battle still teetering precariously between overw
helming victory and ruinous defeat.

  Freyda took a moment to enter the necessary commands, then returned her attention to a high resolution image of one of the damaged Terran warships. With a quick gesture, she opened the same view on one side of the bridge display screen, then slowly panned the hull of the ship in an effort to better gauge the damage that had been inflicted thus far.

  “Tactical, has our AI completed an interim battle damage assessment on the first two targets?” she asked.

  “Yes, Commander,” the young lieutenant replied. “Both of the Human cruisers have sustained a total of nine main battery hits from the Rusalovs and approximately twenty hits each from the anti-ship missile strikes conducted by the Zhelov and Serapion. Power levels on both ships have dropped significantly, but, as you can see, both are still managing to sporadically return fire with their energy weapons. Our AI indicates that both ships still represent a diminished but significant threat and recommends that we continue our attacks to fully neutralize them before shifting fire to the other Terran ships.”

  “I want both of those ships destroyed immediately,” Sarafi said in a low, menacing tone. “The Zhelov and Serapion’s field interdiction capabilities obviously caught the Humans totally unaware, but they will quickly regroup if we fail to exploit the situation. Unlike the ships we faced two days ago, these Terran cruisers clearly have no shielding whatsoever. The fact that these first two are still offering resistance is beyond ridiculous at this point. Concentrate all four battleships’ main battery and energy weapons fire and finish them now, then immediately move on to the other two.”

  “Yes, Commodore,” several Wek officers replied at once.