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Passions in Prose

Battle

DragonFang
Senior Member

since 2000-03-09

Posts 522
Missouri, USA

0 posted 2000-09-22 11:08 PM

Battle:

The alarm sounded. Echoing down the long narrow corridors. The alarm started at a low pitch then raised several octaves, cut off, then started over again.

Derin sat up in his bed. What the hell was going on now? He glanced over at his com-link; the light was flashing to indicate a transmission.

He reached over and punched the “connect” button. “What the hell are you up to?” He screamed through the link in order to be heard over the alarm. Not thinking about the fact that the com-link would magnify his voice anyway.

“Sorry Captain,” came the strong, confident voice of his second. “Sir, we had a fleet of five Drednought class battle cruisers drop out of Hyperdrive three AU’s off of our port bow. They haven’t answered any of our hails.”

Derin sore under his breath. “Keep trying,” he said, “I’ll be up to the bridge in a minute.” He was already out of his bunk and putting on his uniform, mutter under his breath while he did so. Noticing that the link was still connected to that of his second’s he flipped it off and continued his mutterings in private.

He darted out of his room and ran to the nearest lift. Inside the small cylinder he pressed the button for the seventh level, which the bridge was located on. He taped his fingers impatiently as the soft hum told him that he was moving.

After what seemed like an eternity the lift stopped and the doors opened at the end of a long, narrow passageway.

He walked down the passage at a regal pace. No need to worry the crew, the station wasn’t in firing range yet.

As he came to the metal door to the bridge he paused only long enough for the doors to slide apart then called, “Status?”

“The cruisers are on a direct course for us, and still refusing to acknowledge our hails. All personal report ready at battle stations. Sir, sensors show that they have brought their weapons online,” his second said, standing so his captain could take the command seat.

“Open a channel,” he said. Pausing only a moment he said in a loud, commanding voice, “Unidentified battle cruisers, this is the captain of the Battle Station Thor, Derin Acknor. We wish to know why you have entered space controlled by the Tarsis Empire. If you do not respond we will be forced to destroy you,” He nodded to his com officer and the transmission ended.

“Deploy all fighters,” he ordered without waiting for a response from the five approaching ships. “ETA?” He asked the officer at the sensor station.

“Approximately ten minutes before they enter within range of our weapons,” the young man replied automatically at his captain’s words.
“Sire,” another young man spoke up, “According to the latest intelligence they new Drednought class ship has a weapons range almost equal to that of ours.”

“Do we have any details on their armaments other than that?”

“No, there have been no reported battles with any of this class ship, sir. We can be sure that they are fairly well armed though; the energy signature from just one of those ships is nearly a third of ours.”

Derin laughed, “Good! Looks like we’re in for a bit of a challenge, eh? Weapons?”
“All lasers are online, Gravity Cannon is at 73% maximum charge, Antimatter warheads armed and all bays ready to fire, Deflection Emitters . . .” the weapons officer went on giving the status of the stations amble defenses. Derin, only half listening, ran a list of different tactics they could use. Their opponent was clearly more versatile, but judging by the size they would make easy targets. He guessed that the five of them together probably had near the same amount of fighters as they did too.

“ETA?” he asked again.

“Four minutes to weapons range. They have deployed their fighters sir, they are moving to engage ours.”

“What class fighter?”

“They appear to be a small, one man fighter class. I’m not familiar with this class of fighter sir, but I’m fairly sure that they are much more maneuverable than ours.”

Derin swore softly, the fighter class the employed relied on their agility more than firepower. “Prepare a time-stop beacon, record all information from the battle on its database and prepare it to launch upon the destruction of the station. Launch the spatial mines, delta-on, alpha five array.”

“Sir, do you really think we’ll lose?” one of the younger officers asked. Darin felt bad; a lot of his crew was just out of the academy. This area was supposed to be well away from the front lines. This was meant to be a training base damnit!

“We might, and if we do I intend to get every scrap of information to HQ anyway. Status on the mine deployment?”

“All mines have been deployed sir. No enemy fighter will get within a hundred clicks.”

“I have a positive lock on the front cruisers sir,” one of the weapons officers spoke up. “They will be entering missile range in ten seconds . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . .”

“Fire when they enter range,” Darin said impatiently.

“ . . . One . . . firing all missiles sir.”

Darin glanced at his viewer as dozens of missiles armed with anti-matter warheads streaked off toward the target that only looked like large stars.”

“What is the chance of hit?”

“Without knowing what kind of defenses they have the best estimate indicates that each missile has a one in five chance of a direct hit. With fifty missiles flying we are given about a fifty-fifty chance of destroying the target.”

“And what of the fighters?”

“Our defensive lines still hold. We suffer from .3% loss of fighters and they have lost .9% of theirs, we seem to be doing very well against this new class. Calculations predict that they are running at 75% fuel and 62% energy charge.”

“Prepare to fire the next volly of missiles on my mark.”

“Sir,” the young man at the sensor post said, “We have two dozen missiles coming in off our port. 20 seconds to impact and closing.”

“Prepare intercepts.”

“15 seconds to impact, 13 . . . 10 . . . 7 . . .”

“Fire!”

Darin looked at his viewer and watched as thirty or so small missiles streaked lightning fast toward their enemy’s volly. Why was this happening? They were not armed for this. They had no support. He saw twenty-two bright flashes on his screen as the missiles were destroyed. Two of them still streaked on toward the station. Darin pressed the button on his armrest. “All personnel prepare for impact. Repeat, prepare for impact,” he let go of the button, shutting off the intercom. “Deflectors,” he said simply.

“Online sir.”

“Two . . . one . . .”

A violent shudder racked the entire station.

“Report,” he said in a voice as calm as he could make it, but was still rather shaky.

His second looked down at his console for a moment then replied, “The deflectors absorbed all of the impact sir. Emitters are recharging now.”

“Good, now will someone please tell me what kind of missile travels that fast? And what of ours?” he demanded of the crew on the deck, using his firmest voice; not out of anger, but out of fear.

“Our missiles, two seconds to impact, full twenty still fly sir.”
He glanced at his viewer again and was rewarded by the bright blue-white flash of ant-matter warheads detonating. The enormous explosion of twenty warheads would rip right through the opposing force’s deflectors.

“Direct hit with seventeen missiles sir. The other three missed completely . . . the time fuses have set off the charges ten clicks to the rear of the enemy.”

“Launch the heavy assault ships and have them hold thirty clicks to our starboard. Prepare to launch a second flight of missiles. Scan the debris, I want to be damn sure we destroyed that ship.”

“Sir, all ships have entered laser range.”

“A hundred missiles incoming, thirty seconds till impact.”

“Prepare intercepts. Launch chaff. Are they in range of the defensive lasers as well?” At the nod from his weapons officer he continued, “Then start shooting down those damn missiles.” He waited another ten seconds for incoming missiles to inter range of the intercepts, and then he ordered them fired. “Deflectors on my mark.”

“Twenty eight missiles still flying, ten seconds to impact.”

“The Gravity Cannon?”

“The are still out of range, sir.”

“Fire second set of intercepts.”

“Thirteen missi…”

“Deflectors!” he yelled, cutting off the officer.” All decks prepare for impact.”

A violent shudder shook through the station, as if it were trying to tear itself apart.

“Report!”

“Direct hit with two of the missiles, haul integrity is holding. Emitters drained completely . . .” “f***” “ . . . Preliminary sensors indicate that the enemy ship has been destroyed . . . that’s odd! Sir, the enemy fighters are pulling back. Sir! . . . Sir?”

Darin just sat staring at the viewer for a minute. He let out a long sigh, “Fire the second flight of missiles. Order the fighters to hold their position. Have the heavy assault ships array themselves in attack pattern Delta-Omega Five”
“Sir?” his second, “shouldn’t we pursue the enemy fighters? They are obviously low on fuel or they wouldn’t have fallen back to their ships. Sir? Sir we must act now!”

“Are you a fool man?” he screamed. “What of our fighters? Do you think they have enough fuel to chase them down and still make it back? Tactical, how much fuel do our fighters have left?”

The skinny man standing at the tactical station hurriedly looked down at his console, “21% Fuel left, energy is at 8%”

“Order them to withdraw back to the station. Are they within range of the gravity cannon yet?” The tactician shook his head. No! “Begin charging the Gravity Well. All offensive lasers offline, leave on the anti-missile lasers online. Close all missile bays.” He thrummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat, thinking. “Have they shown any sign to show they know the assault ships are deployed?”

“No sir,” one of his men said, in a questioning tone. “They shouldn’t be able to see their power signature; we lie in a direct path between them and the battle cruisers.”

He smiled, “Good, order them to power down and wait until the enemy is where we . . . were, then strike their flank. How long before the Gravity Well Drive is active?”

“Three minutes, sir.”

“The emitters?”

“They aren’t yet charged, sir, over-ride has them locked offline till they are full.”

“All crew members,” he said into the com-link to the entire station, “we are about to engage in a high risk maneuver. There is a chance that this station and all hands aboard will be lost.. If any of you have any messages you want to send to friend or family, we are launching time-stop beacon, you may upload one message each,” he released the com button. “Secure the bridge, I have the feeling that we may be boarded before too long if we don’t get out of here,” he paused, puzzled. Why weren’t they firing? They had to have something to gain by waiting or they would already have missiles every which way from Sunday. “What are they waiting for?” he asked of no one in particular.

Not bothering to listen if anyone bothered to reply he hurriedly started writing his report of the incidents in case he didn’t have a chance later. When he was finished he added a message to his wife and children. He was going to retire in a few months. This was supposed to be an easy post for him, away from the lines, away from the killing. He let out a long sigh. “How much longer?”

“Forty five seconds sir.”

“Sir, they’ve entered into the range of the Gravity Cannon.”

“One last surprise then. Deactivate the anti-missile lasers and close the interceptor ports.” He knew that even if they fired those fast missiles of theirs that it would take longer than they needed to get out of here. He looked down at a counter that had started: twenty-nine seconds. “Launch the time-stop beacon, set its coordinates for Fleet HQ. Have it record the visual until one minute after we have left then proceed to destination.”

Nineteen seconds.

“Sir, they are firing another flight of missiles,” Derin glanced back at his tactical officer as he said it and saw the man’s eyes bug-out. “Sir,” he said very unsteady, “Sir, there are near to four hundred missiles. Thirty five seconds and closing.”

Eight seconds.

“Activate the spatial mines proximity detonators,” he paused, “How many spatial mines do we have left?”

“One thousand five hundred, sir.”

He smiled, “Good, launch them all, and make sure that they have proximity detonators active too”

Still watching his tactical officer, he was rewarded as his eyes bugged out even more than they had before. “Just do it,” he said curtly.

One second.

“Do we have a lock on the enemy ships?”

“What?” his weapons officer asked, then quickly realized that the topic had changed. “Yes, sir.” We can fire any time.”

“Good, do it.”

He looked at the viewer and saw stars begin to slide form one part of space to another and then slide back again. “Activate the Gravity Well.” Still looking at the viewer he watched as the entire world seemed to shift, to blur into one luminescent point. Derin felt queasy from the experience. It wasn’t from unease of having to use the Gravity Well Drive, not entirely anyway, but the bending of space to bring two points together. Derin squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at the eye wrenching images on the viewer.

“Sir!” he didn’t bother to look and see who said it, and with space being twisted this way and that it was too hard to identify the voice’s owner.

“What is it?” he moaned, feeling worse having to use the energy to talk.

“One of the Drednought’s Anti-matter missiles made it through the spatial rift.”

He swore, loudly. He looked at the view screen and saw a streak of light flashing in and out of existence as it passed through the folds in space.

“Time to impact?”

“Can’t tell in folded space, sir.”

“It’s a long shot, but it has a chance. Bring the deflector emitters online. How long till they are can be fully activated?”

“Five minutes, sir.”

“Can we . . . stabilize space enough . . . to . . . launch escape pods?” he said, the effects of the warp starting to effect his thinking. It appeared their new toy still had some bugs.

“I don’t . . . no! . . . can’t launch . . . pods spread . . . torn apart . . . across space . . . lives lost . . . drop out will . . . don’t launch . . .”

“Enough!” he yelled. He looked back to the viewer. He tried to focus his eyes. Everything was as blurred as the would outside. In a brief moment of clarity he saw the missile pop in and out of existence again. Almost on top of them now. He reached out and pressed the com button, “All crew, brace for impact.”

A shudder ran through the station followed by the metallic shrieking of twisting metal alloys.

His world went white, then black as night. And then nothing was left. Nothing.

****

“Sir,” a young ensign said walking into the admiral’s office.

“Yes, what is it?”

“A stop-time beacon just arrived from the Battle Station Thor, they’ve been attacked by five of the Kar Republic’s new Drednought class battle cruisers. The beacon contained details on the battle as well as the Captains report.”

“Losses?” the admiral said staring at a report from the front lines.

“Unknown sir. They destroyed two of the cruisers with anti-matter missiles, and severely damaged the rest with the gravity cannon before they were forced to use the untested gravity well drive. One anti-matter missile made it through the rift behind the Thor. We have no way of knowing what happened to them, but we doubt they survived.

“The three remaining cruisers were ambushed by the Thor’s compliment of assault vessels, two of our ships survived and are being escorted to the nearest bas as we speak. There were no survivors from the Drednoughts.”

“Is that all?” he asked in a neutral voice.

“Yes, sir. There are further details in the report,” he said handing the admiral a thick stack of paper.

“Very well, you can leave me now.”

"Sa souvraya niende missian ye." \
I am lost in my own mind.

Christopher

Moderator

Member Rara Avis

since 1999-08-02

Posts 8296
Purgatorial Incarceration

1 posted 2000-10-06 12:19 PM

Cool! Don't get to see much Sci-Fi in here!

Thanks for that!

Christopher

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