Chronicles of the Expansion War
Episode 1
The Battle of Yates (Part 2)
A Short Story By Gerold F. Eberl III
November 28, 3054
Lindon Colonial Defense Fleet Flagship Themistocles
The response, to the martial law declaration and the news of another approaching alien fleet had been predictable; but the ensuing unrest had been quickly quelled. Regardless of whether or not it worked, the possibility of using the Cousteau to evacuate the entire colony gave people a degree of hope, and that kept them motivated. In the last thirty six hours hordes of people had descended on the Cousteau, construction workers, engineers, virtually anyone with technical skills. Every other project on the entire planet had been abandoned. Novak looked at the latest reports, it would be close, but if they could maintain the pace of work it seemed like they might finish in time. In that same time frame, nearly a million others, mostly children, had been evacuated from the colony.
Still operating under the assumption that a confrontation was likely, Novak had ordered his people to continue analysis of the debris from the alien ships. Given the overwhelming force coming at them they needed every possible advantage. Even then, their odds of success were virtually nonexistent, the best they could hope for was to fight a delaying action and buy the Cousteau a few hours if necessary. Still, for anyone in the engagement force it would probably be a suicide mission.
Despite the inevitable outcome, it was an eventuality that Novak had to plan for. If necessary, he would lead the Themistocles and five other ships against them with skeleton crews. But he didn’t intend to simply charge headlong to their deaths. The second group of ships was approaching along virtually the same course as the first; given the orbits, this group would pass relatively close to Lindon’s first moon. More importantly, when they did, they would be passing through radiation belts left from the detonation of over a thousand nuclear devices in the first battle. Those were conditions Novak could take advantage of if they had to fight.
As he examined holographic projections of battle scenarios, he received a communication from the surface, a scheduled update on the Cousteau. Newsome appeared on the wall display. It was clear that he had gotten little sleep over the last few days, something Novak intended to correct before their conversation was over, “Newsome, how’s your progress?”
“We’ve started running pressurization and life support tests. A few blow outs, but nothing unexpected considering it’s been a hundred years. The problem we ran into is the main engines. The reactors are fully operational, but some of the engine components were repurposed for the original city power grid. We actually managed to find one of the original engineers who’s still alive; guy’s almost a hundred and sixty but he knows his shit. He’s helping fabricate replacement parts, but we had to push back the engine test.” Newsome explained.
“That’s less time to work out any bugs.” Novak frowned, it was looking less and less likely that they would be able to launch early.
Exhaustion overwhelmed Newsome’s response as he shrugged, “Nothing we can do about that.”
“What about FTL.” This was an update Novak had been waiting for; it wouldn’t do any good to launch the ship if it couldn’t escape the system afterward.
“Grav drive’s intact.” Newsom informed the Commodore, “But we can’t run a full power test while the ship’s on the ground. I have people checking it and replacing any damaged components, but we won’t know for sure until we’re in orbit.”
“Keep at it, time is a luxury we don’t have.” Novak told him, “And Newsome, I realize this may fly in the face of what I just said, but get a few hours of sleep. Exhausted people make mistakes and we can’t afford that right now.”
Newsome nodded, sleep sounded beyond appealing, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Novak closed the channel. It was beginning to look like they would need every minute they had, and that meant making a last stand was becoming more likely. They needed to start making preparations now. He had to acknowledge a degree of reluctance as he activated his comm., “Captain Isler, report to my office.”
About a minute later Isler entered the Commodore’s office, stopping to salute, “Sir.”
“Take a seat Rachel.” Novak replied casually, “We’ve got some tough calls to make.”
“Bad news?” She wondered as she sat down.
“Well, it looks like we’re going to be pushing it, as far as getting the Cousteau operational in time.” He replied with a sigh, “And if it comes to it, I intend to make a last stand.”
Isler swallowed, “Whatever your decision Sir, we’re all with you.”
Novak looked around uneasily, “I’m not taking the whole fleet. Just six ships, with skeleton crews.”
There was no hiding the discomfort in Isler’s voice, she had no idea what they could do outnumbered more than ten to one, “You’re talking an outright suicide mission.”
“Probably.” He admitted, “That’s why it’s going to be volunteers only, and anybody with close family is disqualified. We may go down, but we’ll take as many of those bastards with us as we can.”
Under the circumstances, Isler felt a compulsion, “I’ll be your first volunteer.”
“You sure? Like I said, no obligations in this one, volunteers only.” Novak knew she didn’t have any close family in the system, but he didn’t want her to feel any obligation. If they had to engage the enemy most of them probably wouldn’t come back.
“Yeah.” She uneasily replied, “I mean, hell, if they get the ship running, there’s a chance we won’t have to fight, and if we do, you’ll need some experienced officers. Besides, it’s my ship.”
“Alright then.” He respected her decision, “On to the other reasons I wanted to talk to you. We’ll need five more ships for the combat group. The rest will escort the Cousteau. Put any relatives of military personnel on them.”
“Sir?” She wasn’t exactly sure if their thinking was aligned.
It wasn’t a pleasant order, but Novak had to give it, “If they can’t get the Cousteau operational, I want the remainder of the ships to abandon it. Staying with it won’t accomplish anything except getting thousands more killed.”
“That’s pretty cold Tom.” She replied flatly, dropping all formality, “But no, I don’t have a better idea.”
He continued with his calculating demeanor, “On that same note, we have almost five hundred FTL capable missiles spread throughout the fleet, make sure at least four hundred of them are on the Cousteau’s escorts. Either way, they’ll have more need of them than we will. But keep the Mark Seventeen’s, I fully intend to use them.”
Isler glanced at the display near his desk, “This your battle plan?”
“Subject to change.” He confirmed. At this point it was still early, and much of it relied on speculation, “So far they’re following nearly the same course as the first group. If they continue they will pass near the first moon.”
“And right through the radiation belts.” It gave her an idea, “Once we confirm their course, we might be able to leave a few surprises for them. With the amount of radiation in that area it’s doubtful they’d detect any warheads.”
Novak nodded, “We’re on the same page. I intend to break up the Wolfe, and pack what’s left of her full of a few thousand missiles. The moment that fleet gets close we launch everything. Even if none of them hit, the radiation from the detonations should seriously affect their sensors, at least for a few minutes. That’s when we strike.” Novak pressed a command into his console, highlighting a course, “We take our six ships, come in at high speed, unload on them, then slingshot around the moon and back towards Lindon. We form up with what’s left of the orbital defenses and… see what happens.”
The maneuver would take them from the second moon to the first. Isler looked at what Novak had planned, at the point they made the maneuver past the moon they would be traveling at over 500 kilometers per second. They would need to burn engines to hold course, “Better make sure everyone is strapped into their g-couches, if artificial gravity fails during those maneuvers anyone who isn’t is a spatter on the bulkheads.”
“I’d be more concerned about structural damage from that much stress.” Novak opined, “But, either way, there are a lot of backups that have to fail before we worry about that.”
“Okay, assuming we survive this, then we’re stuck in orbit with the defense sats.” She concluded.
“I want all grav drives online and ready for emergency FTL, the moment the Cousteau is away, so are we.” It was clear to Novak that’s where she was going.
She wasn’t enthusiastic about the escape plan, “Dangerous enough to jump from orbit, but if we’re stuck in the middle of a battle…”
“True, we could be destroyed, but those ships will definitely destroy us.” Novak didn’t see how the attempt could possibly make things worse, “All of this is still several days off; a lot can change.”
Isler looked to the plot of the alien’s course. It relied on several assumptions but if their last encounter was any indicator it seemed more than reasonable, “If this fleet is as stubborn and direct as the last one this would practically put them in a shooting gallery.”
The observation drew a short laugh out of Novak, “I’m not sure what passes for alien military doctrine, but that first attack wasn’t exactly creative, it was just brutal. Their tactics are as alien as that corpse we saw. I’m still concerned by just how willing they are to throw their ships away.”
“Just speculations, but we don’t know how they developed.” Isler commented, “If Dr. O’tool is right about their society being caste based, their idea of warfare might be just throwing expendable drones at each other until one side is overwhelmed.”
“It would certainly explain what we saw.” Novak agreed, “Just like when they used to march armies at each other in straight lines on Earth. But you’d think that as their technology advanced so would their tactics; strange.”
She shook her head, “We just don’t know enough about them.”
More knowledge was desirable, but far from Novak’s primary concern, “We know they want us dead; and that even in a best case scenario that fleet is too big for us to repel. They better get that damn ship working.”
It was clear to Isler just how much stress Novak was under. Having to make calls with millions of lives in the balance couldn’t have been easy, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to find out. But it had been on her mind the last few days, if anything happened to Novak all of that responsibility would come crashing down onto her, “I’ll start organizing volunteers to crew those ships and transferring the weapons. Just leave the logistics to me.”
Novak knew what Isler was doing, and for the moment he approved, he had enough concerns, “Very well Captain. Get our ships ready.”
* * *
December 3, 3054
The days ticked by, each one bringing the alien fleet closer on an unwavering course. Astonishingly, Newsome and those on the surface had managed to make tremendous progress on the Cousteau. If the morning system tests succeeded they would be ready for an early afternoon launch by local time.
Both Novak and Isler awaited Newsome’s update, hoping for good news. They had their volunteers if battle was necessary. 614 people manning six ships, even now as the last of the regular crew transferred off, the Themistocles felt empty. The Alexander class battle cruiser normally had a crew of several thousand, but now there were fewer than two hundred people aboard. It wouldn’t be possible to operate like that for long, but with everything at the ready, they could put up a hell of a fight in the short term.
Finally Newsom appeared on the screen, for the first time in days he had a smile on his face, “Just got word, all systems are go for launch. We’re ready to lift off as soon as we confirm everyone is aboard and everything is secure.”
Parsons appeared behind Newsome, “On that note, we have a few stragglers who are refusing to leave; some of them even opened fire on security forces. We’ve detained or arrested most of them, but a few went into hiding.”
As unfortunate as it was, Novak expected this, “Nothing we can do for them if they insist on staying here to die. We’ve got five million people packed on that ship; they have to be our priority.”
“I know.” Parsons begrudgingly replied, “I just don’t like the idea of leaving anyone behind.”
Novak turned, walking towards the display on the wall, “Newsome, what’s the estimated time to launch?”
“Mmm, three hours. Best guess.” Newsome replied after some consideration.
This was good news, but Novak wasn’t going to celebrate until the Cousteau was out of the system, “Alright keep us apprised.”
Isler approached with an inquisitive look, “This may be a strange question, and not that it matters, but what happens to the city when that ship lifts off?”
That made Newsome’s eyes widen, “Oh, anything nearby will be obliterated. This ship was never intended to be put back into space, and the buildings around it were never built to survive a launch.”
“I see.” She nodded.
“If that’s all; we have work to do.” Novak interrupted.
Those three hours passed quickly as Novak and those under his command made final preparations. When the time came, he and the other senior officers that had volunteered for the attack group were gathered in the Themistocles’ briefing room. A large wall display showed the Cousteau at the heart of the capital city, sunk into the ground, a spherical vessel nearly five kilometers in diameter. To this day it was the largest structure in the colony.
A smaller display showed the Cousteau’s command center, buried within the vessel, Newsome, Parsons, and a host of others frantically working in preparation for the launch. Newsome had been appointed project supervisor by default, no one else wanted it, and even if it wasn’t a formal position, he was effectively in charge on the Cousteau for the moment. After conferring with a number of people, he finally turned toward the display, “Alright, we’re ready. Begin main engine startup.”
Another engineer spoke, “Starting, liftoff in ten, nine…”
As the countdown continued, smoke began rising around the Cousteau, a faint glimpse at what was about to happen. Steadily that smoke built into billowing cloud of flames until the ship finally began to lift out of the deep pit it had been placed in.
“We have liftoff!” Newsome shouted enthusiastically.
Novak watched as the main engines on the Cousteau increased power, burning nearby buildings and sending shockwaves through the city that began to topple structures. He heard cheers from a number of people in the room with him as the ship cleared the atmosphere and entered a high orbit, “Don’t celebrate yet.” There was still one more system that needed to be tested, “Newsome, I need to know the status of the Cousteau’s FTL.”
Newsome turned and conferred with some other people, “Were preparing to power it up now, standby.”
This was the most important part, and Novak felt himself sweat, whatever happened in the next few seconds would determine the purpose of his briefing. Suddenly he heard alarms blare from the Cousteau, and his head fell, “That does not sound good.”
It took Newsome a minute to learn what had happened, but when he did he flopped into the chair in front of his display and leaned back with a sigh, “We blew three of the power supplies for the grav drive. We have spare parts; already sent teams to work on it.”
“How long.” Novak demanded.
Newsome leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Those power supplies were major systems, “Depends on the damage, but, were going to be pushing it.”
There was no need to discuss anything further, Novak just closed the channel and pulled up the battle plan on the display. Turning, he looked at the officers in the room whose looks had gone from elation to despair, “Alright, we all knew what we signed up for. Whatever happens, our only concern is buying every second we can for the five million people on that ship. And we will do everything we can in that regard. Mere seconds could mean the difference between life and death for them. Now you’ve all seen the battle plan; if they get the Cousteau out of here in time we abort and we get the hell out of here ourselves. If they don’t, we go in hard, and we make them pay for every kilometer they advance. They haven’t deviated from their course in the slightest, so were anticipating them passing near the first moon. Our goal is to occupy them there and draw their attention to the abandoned base on the moon’s surface. Then we ready our surprise.”
Isler stepped forward, “What’s left of the Wolfe has been broken into several pieces; those pieces have been packed with over ten thousand missiles, including two thousand nuclear devices, which should remain undetected thanks to radiation lingering from our first battle. When their ships get near, we launch everything.
Novak continued, “While some of those missiles will get through, our goal with this attack is not to cause massive damage, but rather to blind their sensors with high radiation levels. At which point, our ships will come in, and we will fire every damn weapon we have at them.”
Commander Fujita spoke up, “Sir, according to your plan, you want to fire over five thousand of our nukes at them.”
“And all three of our Mark Seventeen’s and most of our other antimatter devices.” Novak specified, “What of it?”
“It doesn’t leave much for later.” Fujita replied.
“While their sensors are compromised we’ll have our best opportunity to get our weapons through their defenses. If we want to do heavy damage, that’s our chance.” Isler added, “Besides, those weapons don’t do any good if we die without firing them.”
Fujita nodded, everyone that signed up for this mission knew they might not come back alive. Their only goal was to slow down the enemy as much as possible.
When he had asked for volunteers for this mission, Novak had not concealed how dangerous it was, everyone knew, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t fight to survive. He leaned in, “Another reason we’re hitting them like this at the outset is to soften them up for the planetary defenses. Those satellites were built to defend against light raids and pirates; we saw how well they held up in our first engagement. Against fully functioning enemy vessels they’ll be destroyed before they do any major damage, but if we do some damage first they’re more than capable of finishing off a few ships.”
With a nod from Novak, Isler brought up the second part of the battle plan, “Once we hit them above the moon we’ll rely on the moon for cover, performing a slingshot maneuver under power to head back to Lindon where we’ll enter orbit with the planetary defenses. Now this maneuver is going to be somewhat dangerous. Our ships will be traveling at nearly five hundred kilometers per second, so everyone is going to be strapped into g-couches. If you lose ship wide artificial gravity, they will at least keep you alive while you abort the maneuver.”
“Ideally we should have some element of surprise and they shouldn’t have time to do any major damage to us on this pass.” Novak added with ominous seriousness, “But if you lose artificial gravity, do not try to complete the maneuver; even if the g-couches keep you alive, your ships will be suffering under several hundred g’s. Even a few seconds of that is going to cause serious structural damage and system failures. If you have the ability to regroup after that, do so. Otherwise, join up with the Cousteau’s escort group. I shouldn’t have to remind anyone that every ship we lose puts those five million people at greater risk.”
Isler continued after Novak finished, “Once we enter orbit with the planetary defenses that is where we make our last stand. The satellites have been moved to different orbits to ensure we can hit them with everything we have left. At that point we keep them engaged as long as possible, if the Cousteau gets away we follow, otherwise…” It was unnecessary for Isler to say any more.
The tension in the room was thick, at this point everyone knew what was required of them; Novak stood up, “The lives of millions of people depend on us. Six hundred and fourteen of us, spread across six ships. We don’t know who these aliens are, or what they want, but they have made us their enemy; and we will make sure that is the worst mistake they have ever made. We will avenge every life they have already taken, and we will show them that humanity is not to be fucked with! And if today is our last day, then we’re going to drag them to Hell with us! Dismissed.”
Grunts of approval could be heard from those gathered as Novak spoke. A number of the people that volunteered for this mission either had lost friends or relatives in the first engagement. Whether it was for revenge or to protect loved ones, they could not be more motivated, they just needed a little push to move past their fears.
Novak’s attack group waited in position near the second moon, using it to block line of sight on the incoming ships. On some level everyone was hoping for some miraculous good news from the Cousteau, but the reports currently indicated a best case scenario in which the Cousteau escaped shortly before the enemy fleet entered orbit around Lindon. That was taking into account the first part of Novak’s plan to delay their forces. Novak took a final look at the clock in his office before putting on his pressure suit and making his way to the Themistocles’ command center. Everyone else was already there, donning their own pressure suits and secured into g-couches at their stations, they saluted but were unable to stand up at the moment.
Isler turned to Novak as he saluted, “We’ve just finished decompressing all nonessential areas. We’re ready sir.”
With a simple nod Novak moved to sit down in a g-couch near Isler, “Status on the enemy fleet?”
Entering a few commands in her console Isler pulled up the latest holographic tactical display in front of them, “They are still on course, it hasn’t changed a bit. They should be in position in about twelve minutes.”
“They have us outnumbered, but at least they’re tactical idiots.” Novak quietly opined before turning to the officer at tactical, “Status on fleet weapons.”
The officer turned to Novak, “Laser defenses fully charged. All batteries and missile bays loaded. All safeties on nuclear and antimatter devices disengaged.” He sounded somewhat uncomfortable as he spoke the last part, “And as ordered sir, all three Mark Seventeens are in launchers ready to fire.”
“Target them on the largest enemy ships when we attack.” Novak ordered.
“Understood sir.” The officer replied.
Novak turned to another officer, “Confirm the readiness of the other ships.”
The officer nodded and after a moment she turned back, they were relying on point to point communication to minimize chances of detection, “All ships report ready sir; emissions masking and optical camouflage on standby.”
With a heavy sigh, Novak nodded approvingly, “Now we wait.”
At this time Isler pulled up a passive sensor feed from the orbital defenses and enlarged the incoming enemy fleet. It was relayed from orbital defenses to protect their position, but it would allow them to see what was happening. As the minutes passed Novak watched the enemy vessels enter the radiation fields left from the first engagement.
A few minutes later the tactical officer turned to him, “Enemy fleet in position sir.”
“All ships. Full power to artificial gravity, initiate synchronized burn.” Novak commanded.
There was a slight jolt as the artificial gravity compensated for the extreme acceleration. In order to minimize the chances of detection, they were accelerating as quickly as possible. They shot forward from behind the second moon, accelerating to nearly five hundred kilometers per second in less than half a minute, the whole time they kept the moon between them and the enemy fleet.
Without artificial gravity the g-forces involved were actually greater than what they would encounter in the slingshot around the moon, but at this time all ships were in their best condition so the chances of problems were much lower.
“Burn completed, all ships are on course and in formation. All report emissions masking and optical camouflage operational.” An officer announced as they shot past the second moon. With their radiant emissions near zero and optical camouflage it would be very difficult to notice them with passive sensors, and the radiation field would limit the effectiveness of the enemy’s active scans. This was the best chance at having the element of surprise.
They couldn’t maintain zero emissions for long without encountering overheating issues, but at their current speed it would only take a matter of minutes to reach the enemy fleet near the first moon. Novak watched as the enemy ships moved towards the location of the Wolfe’s debris. At this point it did not appear as if they had detected anything out of the ordinary. He could feel his hands sweat with anticipation in his pressure suit, “Deploy the weapons on the Wolfe!”
To prevent detection the signal was relayed through an orbital defense station. All of the crew on the Themistocles turned their attention to the display. Thousands of missiles flew out from the debris and several hundred flew up from the base on the moon’s surface. The launch prompted an immediate response from the enemy fleet which broke formation and began firing to intercept the missiles.
A number of nuclear devices detonated early when in danger of being shot down, but at this point it didn’t matter; their purpose was to drive up radiation levels, not do direct damage. Still, because of the sheer number of weapons some of them got through damaging several enemy vessels. Cheers went around the command center as an enemy ship took a direct hit, while it wasn’t destroyed; it was in no condition to fight. In the wake of the attack the enemy fleet began firing at the debris in orbit of the first moon and at the base on the surface.
Novak was satisfied with the results so far; if only for a short time they had managed to turn the enemy’s attention from Lindon to an abandoned moon base. As the enemy ships took up position over the moon, Novak’s forces closed in. The high radiation had thus far prevented them from being detected, but that would change the moment they opened fire. Novak felt his pulse quicken, this attack had to be timed perfectly. The closer they were the less time the enemy would have to respond, but given the speed they were moving at, it would also decrease the time they had to fire at the enemy. Patiently he watched the tactical display waiting for the right moment as they closed in. Finally he drew a deep breath, “All ships fire at will!”
The main rail gun batteries of every ship and countless missiles shot forth rapidly closing on the enemy fleet. By the time the alien forces responded there were already several volley’s closing in on them. With radiation affecting their sensors they were less effective at intercepting the incoming fire. Numerous flashes erupted from the enemy fleet, with the sensor interference it was difficult to know exactly how much damage they had done but it was clearly significant. But even in the chaos Novak saw a sight that made him cheer. One of the largest enemy cruiser’s had taken a direct hit from one of their Mark Seventeens; there was a brilliant flash and the blast tore the ship completely in half. Everyone else applauded the sight as well, even if they couldn’t win, they knew that they had made the enemy’s victory a pyrrhic one.
Finally the enemy vessels began to return fire, but the speed at which Novak’s ships were moving did not give them much time. Soon the moon separated the two fleets, and Novak’s ships had taken only minimal damage. All of them successfully made their maneuver around the moon and headed for Lindon.
The Navigator turned toward Novak, “All ships are in formation sir. At present course and speed we should be able to enter orbit with the orbital defenses in sixteen minutes.”
“Well done people.” Novak told everyone, “Tactical, status on the enemy fleet?”
As they came around the moon they were able to get better sensor readings. The officer smiled as he announced what he saw, “Six enemy ships destroyed, at least ten crippled, and dozens damaged.”
Novak nodded approvingly, “It won’t be that easy next time, they know were here now.”
Isler turned to the communications officer, “Any word from the Cousteau?”
“They’re still working on repairs. Current estimate… two hours.” The woman replied solemnly.
In their current situation that was an eternity. Isler swallowed as she turned to Novak, “This is going to get bloody.”
“Very.” Novak got up from his g-couch, and looked at Isler, “We’ll have some time before they regroup and advance. Make sure everyone’s ready and keep me apprised of any developments.”
“We’ll be ready for them sir.” Isler knew that Novak intended to put some pressure on the Cousteau’s repair teams.
For most of the attack Novak had been clenching his jaw, only now did he realize just how sore it was, he moved it from side to side to loosen the muscles as he walked to his office. He didn’t bother to sit down as he entered his office, “Open comm. channel to the Cousteau.”
“We’re working on it.” Newsome frantically said as soon as the channel opened.
Clearly he was busy coordinating things, Novak didn’t want to distract him too much only remind him of just how dire the situation was, “Just keep in mind that time is not a luxury we have, if we go down, it won’t take them long to get to you.”
Parsons moved over and put her hand on Newsome’s shoulder as he nodded before turning to Novak, “I see your attack was a success Tom.”
“It was only enough to slow them down. We can do some damage, but we can’t win this one.” Novak reminded her.
At this moment Parsons was unsure of what to say. She realized that Novak was probably on a suicide mission, “Tom I’m sorry… I…”
“Just get that ship working and get those people out of here.” Novak snapped, “We’ll buy you as much time as we can.”
She couldn’t even bring herself to say ‘thank you’. It just seemed empty and inadequate. Biting her lip she nodded, “No matter what happens, you’re a hero Tom, along with everyone else on those ships. We’ll do our part over here, try to hold on.”
Novak sighed, “No matter what happens it’s been a privilege. Novak out.”
This was not what Novak had expected when he was assigned to a small distant colony. At first he hadn’t even wanted the assignment; it was on the fringes of civilization and likely a dead end. But he had come to like the colony and even enjoy some of the perks of the assignment. Being so far out he was the final word on most military matters, and it had been nearly a decade since he had to salute a superior officer. Having this level of autonomy was rare for someone with his rank. But now those same perks were also his greatest liability, his forces were alone, no one was coming to save them, and they were about to engage in a battle that might mean certain death.
While Novak considered the situation Isler entered his office, “I have the crews on all ships verifying combat readiness and double checking all systems. It’s bad enough we’re going to have to wait, but if they’re sitting there with nothing to do…”
The stress of the situation would only be compounded in that case. Novak nodded, approving of Isler’s actions, “What are your thoughts on that last engagement.”
Isler hesitated, “In all honesty, it’s like were fighting idiots. But if what Dr. O’Toole said is right, we could just be dealing with the least intelligent among them.”
“They don’t deviate from their path in the slightest, they attack along a vector where we’re most likely to prepare countermeasures; I’m forced to concur.” Novak agreed, “Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather fight an idiot, but we know there must be more intelligent members of their species. I suppose none of this matters to us right now, all we can do is fight and hope they get that damn ship working before we’re spent.”
“Sir I…” Before Isler could continue they were interrupted by a message from the ships tactical officer.
“Captain. Those ships are moving again. The most heavily damaged ones are remaining in orbit of the moon, but forty three of them are advancing towards the colony.” The officer informed, “They’ll be here in just over an hour.”
Novak looked at the clock, “That still leaves about half hour on the Cousteau’s repairs.”
“Even if some of them are damaged, with their numbers it will be hard to hold them off that long. The planetary defenses won’t hold out that long, and once they’re gone we’ll be nothing but target practice.” Isler commented with concern.
“They’ve changed tactics.” Novak noted calmly, in truth he couldn’t afford emotions right now, “Last time their damaged ships made suicide runs, this time they hold back. Make sure all our records and observations get sent to the Cousteau’s defenders; if we don’t make it, they need to get back to command.”
“I’ve already ordered that all of our records get forwarded to them.” She replied, trying to ignore the danger before them, “Sir, if this is it, I just want to say, it’s been an honor to serve with you.”
“We’re not dead yet.” The last thing Novak wanted was everyone on his ships to start believing there was no hope; as long as they were alive there was a slim chance for survival. He wanted them to fight for it, “If we can hold out for a little while and they can get the Cousteau out of here we’ll be right behind them. On that note I want all grav drives on standby and ready for FTL at a moment’s notice.”
“You still mean to jump from orbit.” Isler commented with some apprehension, between debris from battle and everything else in orbit, jumping that close to a planet could be quite risky. Generally speaking, the more traffic there was in a system the further out ships were required to go before going to FTL.
“Given the choice of aliens that will definitely kill us and an FTL jump that might, I’ll take the FTL.” Novak replied. The fact that he was already planning an escape would also help bolster what was left of crew morale.
“I’ll see to it sir.” Isler said as she saluted and left.
Novak found himself wandering through the areas of the ship that were still pressurized. While he wanted to know what was happening on the Cousteau he knew that bothering them at this point was pointless. They were working as quickly as possible, and they were fully aware that their lives were on the line as well. Eventually he made his way back to command. Everyone’s attention was focused on the sensor displays, they barely noticed him enter. At this point no one cared about military protocol, they were all about to plunge into a brutal fight, and that was the only thing on their minds.
A few minutes silently passed after Novak took his seat in the Themistocles’ command center until a sensor specialist called out, “They’re painting targets on us Captain.”
Isler drew a deep breath to calm her nerves, “Let’s return the favor.”
As she finished Novak turned to the tactical officer, “Target our main guns and those of the orbital headquarters on the most heavily damaged alien vessels; let’s try to thin the herd.”
The officer nodded; the orbital headquarters was the most fortified of the orbital stations. Its combat capabilities were comparable to the Themistocles, though its ability to maneuver was obviously inferior. It had played a minimal role in the first engagement because of its orbit, but now they would be able to make full use of it. Even operating without a crew it was still a significant boon to the Colonial Fleet.
Despite the assistance of the defense satellites, there was no doubt about the outcome of the battle if it dragged on too long, but that also meant the colonial forces had no reason to hold back. They could expend their entire arsenal with no concern for the future. Even with their inferior numbers that might be enough to slow the enemy for a while.
“They’ve opened fire!” A voice rang out from across the room.
“All ships, initiate countermeasures. Prepare to return fire, kinetic weapons only.” Novak commanded. At this range he didn’t want to waste their last warheads that were likely to be shot down.
“Ready sir!” The tactical officer replied.
Novak nodded, “Fire!”
An assortment of kinetic projectiles and missiles shot out from every ship and station; at the same time their defenses began picking off incoming enemy weapons. Many of the larger projectiles broke into clouds of smaller ones as they closed in to make them more difficult to evade. Little was accomplished by either fleet in this first exchange of fire. The colonial fleet lost a defense platform and two others were damaged, while one of the most heavily damaged alien vessels was disabled and began drifting away from the main forces, slowly falling towards the planet.
They had avoided casualties this time, but only because the defense platforms had no crews. The next exchange would be far worse. Novak looked at the updated tactical display; a relatively large enemy cruiser was closing on the defense headquarters. Given the aliens’ history of suicide attacks he didn’t want to take the chance of them repeating those actions, “Target all fleet weapons on enemy designated cruiser two.”
As he expected, the moment they were targeted they began burning their engines trying to close the distance as quickly as possible, but also reducing the ability of their fleet to cover them.
“Kinetic weapons fire, standby to launch warheads.” Novak ordered. As they began firing at the cruiser the enemy fleet also launched a second salvo, even more intense than the first. Several defense satellites erupted into fireballs, frantically launching all of their remaining arsenals once it was clear they would be destroyed. Novak gave them no attention, he knew they would be destroyed; his attention was focused on the incoming cruiser as a hail of projectiles raked across its surface and tore through its structure. They had done enough damage to disable many of its engines, now they had to alter its course so it didn’t hit the defense headquarters, “Launch a salvo of nukes at that ship, target grid, four-four.”
“Firing.” The tactical officer replied.
“The Erikson’s been hit!” Someone called out, “They’re reporting casualties but they’re still in the fight.”
The announcement did not surprise anyone, news like that would only become more common. Novak and Isler acknowledged the update but stayed focused on the enemy cruiser. Many missiles were shot down, but several went off close enough to alter its course and do some damage. Most of the enemy fleet began to slow and maneuver into a more stable orbit for the remainder of the battle, but the damaged cruiser was unable to slow, and was now on a ballistic approach towards the planet.
The ship shot through the colonial fleet, narrowly missing the defense headquarters. With the damage it took it was safely ignored after that, and it met its end as it plummeted into the atmosphere, unleashing a brilliant fireball before its remains finally crashed into an ocean.
Both fleets were now exchanging sustained fire. As the battle began to drag on, the superiority of the enemy forces became clear. Novak’s forces had managed to take down one more damaged enemy ship, but now he watched his display as more and more of the defense platforms went red. Those platforms were the only thing providing his ships with cover from enemy weapons fire. As their numbers dwindled, the inevitable happened.
“Sir! The Elba’s taken a direct hit! They’re breaking up.” An officer reported.
Isler looked at her display; there was no way to render assistance. The ship was dead, “Stay focused; let’s make these bastards pay!”
As the battle continued, a debris cloud began to fill the area. Occasionally a piece of debris would slam into the hull, the vibrations travelled through the ship, causing a sound in the Themistocles’ command center that made everyone cringe. At some point they were all certain that it wouldn’t be just a piece of debris that hit them.
Another of the colonial ships was destroyed, and the others were beginning to take damage as they finally got an update from the Cousteau, “This is Newsome, repairs are complete, we’re running a power test now. We just need a few more minutes.”
“You’ll have them.” Novak replied before turning his attention back to the crew, “You heard him we just need to buy a few more minutes!”
In truth, those few minutes would be costly; they were down to less than a third of the defense platforms they began with and the orbital headquarters had taken heavy damage and its orbit was deteriorating. They simply didn’t have the capability to defend much longer.
Only two minutes later an alarm went off on the Themistocles; the tactical officer’s eye’s went wide, “Incoming!”
An enemy missile hit the ship, the massive blast tore through the hull, but it wasn’t able to take down the Themistocles.
“Damage report!” Isler demanded.
“Checking!” A voice called out over the alarms.
A few seconds later a second impact rocked the ship and a groan came from the walls around the command center, followed by a large bang as the room shook.
Once again, everyone cringed. Captain Isler saw her suits display, the command center was losing atmosphere, but that’s what the pressure suits were for. She quickly turned her attention to her stations display, they still had FTL capability, “Take evasive action; try to get us away from this debris for a jump.”
“Sir, some of the enemy ships have begun firing on the surface.” The tactical officer called out.
“Let them, at least they’re not shooting at us.” Novak replied; Lindon was evacuated, at this point he couldn’t care about it.
As the crew worked another loud bang came from the command center and a massive crack formed along a wall and the deck plating. As it spread, the artificial gravity began failing, and pieces of debris floated up. Isler was fully aware of the danger posed not only by the floating debris, but by the possibility of the room collapsing, “Everyone get out of here! Move to secondary command. All hands, the moment the Cousteau is away go to FTL, do not wait for orders, just do it!”
The last part was to ensure that whoever was flying the ship wouldn’t hesitate. Novak stood up from his g-couch, “Move it people!”
Everyone in the command center began quickly heading to the door on the least damaged side of the room, doing their best to avoid the debris which would fly across the room every time the ship maneuvered. A section of the ceiling collapsed, sending even more debris flying. One of the last crewmembers was hit by a piece of the debris cutting into his leg.
Novak turned to Isler, “Get everyone else out of here!” He rushed over to the crewmember and lifted him up, then quickly moved towards the door as debris clattered against his pressure suit.
“Sir, hurry up. We have to seal off this section!” Isler called out. Except for the crewmember and the Commodore, everyone else was out of command.
As Novak moved he felt the gravity completely fail and his heart raced. The ship wide artificial gravity field was for reducing hull stress, it didn’t provide normal gravity on decks or handle fine compensation; that was the responsibility of the local fields and they were offline. One high g maneuver and he would be dead. He pushed off, shoving the injured crewmember to the door as quickly as possible and propelling himself behind him. Novak breathed some relief as he saw Isler and another officer grab the crewmember and drag him to an area outside of command that still had gravity.
Suddenly the deck shifted under Novak, he could only grab on to a guide rail made for zero-g emergencies and move toward the door. A wave of debris moved over him and slammed against the wall as he looked up. He knew going into this battle he might not survive, but being so close to death he felt his hands shake. Relentlessly he dragged himself to the door, until he was only a meter away. Once again he felt the ship move under him; in an instant he was slammed against the wall just beside the door. He knew that behind him was a shower of twisted metal shards.
With all his might he threw himself to the side, trying to get through the door. Isler and the other officer both saw what was coming and took cover. Novak managed to get his body to cover behind the door frame, but he wasn’t fast enough, and dozens of metal fragments tore into his right arm and leg, sending blood droplets spraying into the area.
Novak groaned in pain as he felt his flesh tear and bones break from the impacts. His suits pressure warning immediately went off, with the damage it had taken it would fail in minutes.
Isler looked in horror as the debris passed and fell to the deck once it entered an area with gravity, “Tom!” She yelled as she rushed over and dragged him away.
The other officer looked at Novak’s injuries. He had numerous deep lacerations and was bleeding profusely, either from pain or blood loss he had already lost consciousness, “We have to get him to the infirmary!”
They both began rushing Novak to the infirmary; fortunately it was not far away. Isler opened the infirmary channel on her comm. Doctor Salinger had volunteered to stay aboard, “Doctor, the Commodore’s been injured; we’re on our way to the infirmary.”
“Understood.” A short terse response came from Salinger; he was already buried in patients and bodies.
A ship wide announcement came over the comm. a minute later, “This is Lieutenant Glenwood; the Cousteau is away! Initiating FTL jump!”
Isler felt a slight shift in gravity which quickly stabilized. She breathed a sigh of relief, if they were still alive it meant they had escaped, but at what cost? For the last few minutes she hadn’t been updated, so she didn’t know. She would worry about it after she got Novak to the infirmary.
The infirmary itself was a macabre sight. There were countless minor injuries, and a number of people who had been closer to the blast that had damaged the ship were seriously injured. At this point the dead had simply been dumped on the floor and shoved aside; there was no time to worry about them now. The room itself wasn’t much better; it had clearly taken some damage.
Doctor Salinger rushed over as he saw Novak, “Damn it, what a mess. Get him on the table!”
Isler helped get Novak onto a table in the infirmary, “He needs tissue regeneration.”
With a heavy sigh, Salinger looked at Novak’s injuries. The functioning tissue regeneration systems were occupied. The immediate concern had to be stopping Novak’s bleeding. A quick scan revealed the extent of vascular damage, it wasn’t something he could deal with under the current circumstances, “I’ve got two people with radiation exposure and burns in those units, and I’ve got more injuries to treat. There’s just not enough time.”
“What are you saying!?” Isler demanded impatiently.
Salinger turned to a medic, “Prepare to amputate.” He turned back to Isler, “I don’t have time to waste on this. We can grow new limbs when we rendezvous with the fleet, in the meantime, this is the fastest way to stop the bleeding with the resources we have.”
There was little else Isler could do for Novak, she just nodded, “I’ll have anyone with basic medical training help with the minor injuries.” She told Salinger before pressing her comm., “Glenwood, this is Isler, what’s the status on the fleet.”
Glenwood sounded somber as he replied, “We lost four other ships Captain. It’s just us and the Cornella. The Hong got taken out at the end of the battle, at least they took one of those bastards with them, and the Temesh didn’t survive the jump.”
“Casualties?” She asked hesitantly.
“Give me a second.” Glenwood replied, “Cornella reports eighteen survivors. One in critical condition, but expected to survive. At last count, we’ve got fifty-five.”
As she spoke she heard a monitor alarm behind her, and saw a medic shake his head, “Fifty-four.” She replied quietly. If no one else died, then out of over six hundred people, there were a mere seventy two remaining.
“Captain, we’ve got another situation you should be aware of.” Glenwood continued, “Six enemy ships broke off and are in pursuit. We’re currently pulling away from them. But until we rendezvous with reinforcements, we can’t drop to sublight.”
“Hopefully that won’t be an issue.” As long as they could maintain FTL it wouldn’t matter, if those ships continued to pursue them they would be easily dispatched by the Twelfth Fleet, “Send a message to Admiral Foster with the Twelfth Fleet and set up a rendezvous location. Oh, and if there’s anyone with you that has medical training have them report to the infirmary.”
“Understood Captain.”
“How much damage did we take?” Isler was almost hesitant as she asked, Command was buried deep within the vessel, and if it had sustained structural damage they must have taken a massive hit. Having commanded the Themistocles for years she couldn’t help but feel some sorrow over its current state.
“Uh, we’re checking on that now Captain. But we’re a little short on personnel, so it may take some time to do a proper assessment.” Glenwood cautiously replied, “Good news is, we took minimal damage to FTL systems.”
While it was good they had FTL, it still didn’t confirm the ship’s structure would hold together. Isler wanted a report as soon as possible, “Assess structural damage first. I want to know that this ship isn’t going to collapse on us.”
“I’ll inform the engineering team.” Glenwood replied.
“Any word on what took out command?” Isler finally asked.
Glenwood nodded, even though Isler couldn’t see him, “The team is in the area now Captain. Initial report says it looks like a hole was torn completely through the ship. Best guess right now is a large kinetic impactor hit us right after the nuke.”
Isler frowned, the Themistocles wouldn’t be repaired until they could get to a shipyard, all they could hope to do was keep it going until then, “Alright, keep me updated Lieutenant.”
For a moment Isler felt like she was isolated from the chaos around her, she took a deep breath to focus herself. The immediate threat was over, but the aftermath of the battle was clear as she looked around the infirmary. They had only fifty-four people left on a ship meant for thousands; and of those fifty-four, a number were seriously injured. Even with maintenance drones it would be impossible to affect any repairs under the current circumstances, it would take everything they had just to maintain the Themistocles’ current operations. Isler began handing out assignments to those with minor injuries as soon as they were treated, she was simply too shorthanded to allow them to rest at the moment.
* * *
December 6, 3054
Twelfth Fleet Rendezvous Location
Novak awoke in his room in the Hector’s infirmary. The Hector was the flagship of the Twelfth Fleet, he had been transferred there as soon had they had met up with the fleet. Carefully he sat up, eying the mechanical temporary prosthetics on his arm and leg. They were functional but awkward, because they would be replaced with grown tissue grafts within a few days they hadn’t bothered to finely calibrate them.
A day ago when he had woke up on the Themistocles he had been a little surprised. On some level he expected they would all be killed after the hit they took. He didn’t have time to get details on what happened before he was transferred to the Hector, and after that he was tied up with treatments. However, despite some resistance from doctors insisting he needed to rest, he finally managed to get his hands on Isler’s report from the battle.
The report was a bittersweet read. Novak was elated to still be alive, but the price of the battle was immense, and it was by sheer luck that two ships had just managed to escape. The worst of it was the casualty list; many of the names on it were people he had known personally.
While Novak was examining the details his door opened and an older man walked in. Novak was immediately startled, “Admiral.”
“Don’t get up.” Foster waived his hand, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’ve been better.” Novak replied raising the mechanical arm. The last time he had seen Foster was almost a decade ago, but the Admiral hadn’t changed much.
Foster nodded, “Well, you’re alive, that’s what really counts.”
Novak glanced at the report near him, “I was one of the lucky ones. We went into that battle with over six hundred people and came out with seventy-two.”
A heavy sigh came from Foster as he shook his head, “You sacrificed five hundred to save five million. Most of us would sell our souls to the devil for a deal like that. Just getting that old puffball off the ground was amazing. I read the reports, and I talked to Isler, what you did was nothing short of heroic.”
Ultimately, Foster was right about getting the Cousteau off the ground. The ‘puffball’, as that class of colony ships were sometimes called because of their resemblance to the mushroom, had been sitting for over a century. But in spite of the number of people they had saved, Novak felt frustration, and wondered if he could have done more, “Tell that to everyone who died in Newbury.”
“You know as well as I do that you can’t control everything that happens in a battle.” Foster replied. He doubted he would have done any better in Novak’s position.
With a frown, Novak closed his eyes in contemplation, “So, when does the court martial begin?”
“What?” Surprise flooded Foster’s expression.
“I lost a colony, hell I lost the whole damn Yates System to a hostile alien force John.” Novak knew there would be consequences for that, “To my knowledge, this is the first time that’s happened, they’re going to want someone to blame.”
Foster knew where Novak’s concerns came from, “I’m sure there will be an inquiry, but you followed all established contact protocols and, frankly, put up a hell of a fight. I don’t see it going anywhere. And, having spoken to Governor Parsons, I’m pretty sure that if they tried to court martial you, most of the people from that colony would riot.”
“My job was to defend the colony.” The response was flat; Novak was unaccustomed to this type of praise.
“Well she thinks quite highly of you.” Foster informed him, “So highly in fact, that she’s already filed a formal recommendation, that you be considered for the Medal of Valor.”
“Medal of…” Novak was beyond surprised, the Medal of Valor was the highest honor military personnel could receive, and they were not awarded often.
“I happen to agree with her.” Foster added as he pulled a box out of his pocket, “And that brings me to the other reason I came here. I wanted to give this to you personally.”
Within the box Foster presented was another medal, the Wounded Service Star for those wounded in the line of duty. Novak took it and looked at it, “I have the feeling we’re going to need a lot more of these.”
“Hopefully we won’t end up in an all-out war.” By his tone, it was clear that Foster wasn’t confident in his own words, “But Isler’s report was not encouraging. You truly couldn’t establish contact?”
Novak shook his head, “No. We tried everything; the only response we got was being shot at. They only seemed interested in wiping us out. There’s a report from a Dr. O’Toole…”
“I read it.” The concept of a eusocial species was nothing new, but seeing one with advanced spaceflight capabilities was. Foster knew they would have to reassess their strategies to fight an enemy like that, “If those ships were crewed by mostly drones, as she put it; that would explain their willingness to make suicide runs and their lack of creativity.”
“That changed during the second attack.” This change was a development that alarmed Novak, “They were less willing to sacrifice their ships and they seemed more coordinated, it’s only speculation, but I got the feeling we may have been dealing with a commander of some sort. I don’t think we can rely on them to be idiots in the future.”
Foster nodded, “Command went nuts over the data you sent, they’ve got every team available going over it. But reports are no substitute for experience. They want to talk to you; you and everyone under your command. You’ve all been recalled to Earth.”
“Now?” Novak was surprised; the trip back to earth would take months.
Once again foster nodded, “As I said, you’re the only commander to have engaged the enemy, an enemy we know little to nothing about, and if this turns into a war… they want your input. Besides, you’re going to be on medically restricted duty until you’re healed; whether you go to Earth or not, either way you’re not going to be commanding a fleet for a while.”
Looking at his arm and leg Novak knew that it would probably be months until he was cleared for unrestricted duty, “Understood.”
For a moment Foster hesitated, “There is one other thing, I wasn’t sure if I should show you. One of our probes sent back data from Lindon. The enemy fleet was gone but…” He reluctantly handed a tablet to Novak.
On the tablet was a heading blatantly marked ‘Top Secret’. Below that was an image of the planet, the once beautiful blue green orb was now shrouded in a drab, brown grey cloud. The entire surface had been bombarded beyond recognition. The sight infuriated Novak, he scoffed before speaking, “You really think this won’t turn into a war. You can’t show mercy to an enemy that does this. There’s only one thing they’ll understand.”
“You may be right.” Foster admitted, “But ultimately, that decision isn’t ours.”
“You said their fleet left Lindon, any sign of it?” Novak asked.
With a sigh, Foster stared pacing, “They headed back into unexplored regions. But we’re keeping a watch for them. We have three more fleets heading to the region in case they come back. Anyway you should get some rest. But allow me to say, Commodore, you’re a credit to the uniform, you saved a hell of a lot of people. You should be proud.”
Novak saluted as Foster left, but in his heart, he knew they had not seen the last of these aliens. At some point they would be back, and he had no idea of what to expect when that day came.
