Battle of Sol Page 2

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown, above the wormhole to Sol, Alpha Centauri System

  Harvey Yamato saw them on the holomap surrounding his command chair. The enemy was one hundred and eighty dots strong, all heading his way. They were just about to enter extreme fighter strike range, and he knew the outcome would be tight.

  He saw… 48 enemy ‘shark’ class battlecruisers ‒ named after sharks because well… they looked like gigantic sharks. Each was armored to the teeth with carbon nanofiber armor, and each bristled with weapon pipes like their new megaton HET grazers. The enemy ‘shark’ class was equipped with the equivalent of a human mark 6 propulsion drive that allowed the war machine to travel to the maximum velocity of 0.2 c within a heartbeat.

  Beside the 48 ‘shark’ class battlecruisers, there were 12 enemy ‘megastar’ class superdreadnoughts, which were even more heavily armored than the battlecruisers. These monsters carried 12 humongous grazer mounts that could literally plaster a planet. Their appearance looked like giant oblong shaped balls of metals.

  And then besides these 12 superdreadnoughts, there were two gigantic four-kilometer long ‘Moebius’ class Titans that looked like massive pillars of doom.

  If there was anything that resembled the word and concept of ‘nightmare’ to Harvey Yamato, it was the enemy’s Titans. The two Titans were equipped with almost 200 meters of armor on all sides and carried 2 fortress class tachyon pulse cannons that could literally obliterate anything within 120,000 kilometers. Yamato did not want to be within the range of these Titans, but he knew as the battle would progress that he would eventually have to suffer their onslaught ‒ if not personally, then on the ships he commanded.

  The enemy also had 60 missile ships. These were smaller rectangular-shaped vessels whose main purpose was to carry missiles in their external and internal missile-racks. Once their missiles were expended, their usefulness in battle was next to zero. Each enemy missile ship carried between 1000 to 5000 missiles depending on the size of the ship. Usually, they retreated from the battle the moment their missiles were shot out of their missile racks.

  There were also 60 other enemy ships out there, but they were mostly smaller frigate-sized or destroyer-sized vessels, used mostly to screen and support their bigger ships. These looked like smaller versions of the enemy’s bigger ships.

  Harvey pushed a button on his chair and suddenly his view of the battlefield changed. Now, he saw his own ships.

  His eyes surveyed all 120 human warships ‒ each were neatly arranged in formation in front of the artificial wormhole gate to Sol.

  He saw 29 human ‘Artemis’ class battlecruisers. These one kilometer long oblong shaped hulls were also armored with carbon nanofibers. However, in addition to the best military grade armor ‒ most human ships, including the Artemis class, were equipped with the latest human regenerative shield matrix technology. Any weapon that got close to these human battlecruisers would have to first penetrate their deflector shields, which often created blue splashes when hit. In terms of total energy repulsion rates, the mark 7 deflector shield matrices on board the Artemis class battlecruiser could absorb and deflect a 50 megaton nuke at point blank range with only a 20% decrease to its total strength. Its regenerative capacity allowed it to regenerate its shields from 0 to 100% within four hours.

  In terms of weapons, the ‘Artemis’ class’s 8 plasma cannons mounted mostly on its forward hull could deal damage to anything that got to within 50,000 kilometers before the plasma bolt dispersed and dissipated. These main guns were powered by the ships’ antimatter power cores. In addition to its main guns, it was also equipped with secondary point defense weapons and countermeasures.

  The next level of ships was called the ‘Warhammer’ class, and these made up humanity’s superdreadnought line-up. He saw 8 of these multi-kilometer long Warhammers. From head to stern, each Warhammer measured about two kilometers. These were also equipped with shields and carbon fiber alloy, but their defensive systems were a level greater than the human Artemis class battlecruisers. The shields were mark 8, with two mark 8 generators, and the carbon fiber was twice as thick in all areas compared to the Artemis class. It was also equipped with plasma cannons, except these were superdreadnought-sized and had nearly 150% as much range before the plasma bolts dissipated.

  Both the Artemis and Warhammer class were equipped with human mark 10 propulsion drives, which created a field around the ship that moved the ship to a maximum speed of 0.25 c.

  … This was it for the remaining human ‘battlecruiser or larger’ capital ships in his armada. He wished more capital ships had survived the previous battles but they hadn’t. Both the Aristotle and Archimedes, which were battlecruisers, were limping and wouldn’t make it in time to the battle above the artificial wormhole gate to Sol.

  He shifted his holomap’s view back to the enemy fleet and gazed at the enemy’s Moebius-class Titans in envy. Humans had no Titan class ships in the field, although such a ship was planned to be created before the destruction of the main human shipyards at Epsilon Eridani postponed such construction indefinitely in favor of smaller more maneuverable ships. However, humans did have one ship class that the enemy Argonans did not have ‒ carriers. His eyes returned back to his armada and he saw 10 human battlecarriers, each supporting a complement of 100 to 200 star fighters. His flagship, the Yorktown, was one of them.

  The only reason humanity had battlecarriers when the Argonans didn’t was because humans had created a technology that made miniaturized drive fields ‒ which was a form of propulsion ‒ safe for living pilots. Both races had the technology to propel a small object to 0.5 c ‒ like an unmanned missile ‒ but only humans had the technology to do it safely for a humanoid pilot. Being able to make small drive field generators safe for pilots allowed for small objects like starfighters and their pilots to be able to move up to speeds of 0.5 c, which was impossible to reach for any race without such a technology. This created a unique dimension in combat, being that the side equipped with starfighters now could strike the enemy at a far greater initial maximum distance.

  And… since starfighters were generally small and easy to produce, they ‒ and the lives of the pilots ‒ were generally considered expendable compared to the lives and tonnage on board the larger warships such as human destroyers, medium cruisers, battlecruisers, superdreadnoughts, battlecarriers, and missile ships.

  Cockpit, Fighter 004, Above the Artificial Wormhole to Sol, Alpha Centauri System

  “All fighters,” said Sector General Yamato’s voice in Trevor’s headset, “head towards the enemy fleet at maximum drive speed and strike your assigned targets. May the gods be with you.”

  “You heard the fleet commander!” said Wing Commander Jerome ‘Bozeman’ Bottis. “Let’s do this! All strike groups of Yorktown, accelerate to maximum speed and maintain formations!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Yes, sir!” came the replies.

  “Yes, sir!” Trevor Gray aligned his fighter into strike formation with the rest of his wing and boosted his fighter instantly to 0.48 c. He didn’t feel a thing inside his cockpit. No sudden G-force. No momentum change. Nothing. That was the miracle of the Yatimis Miniature Slide Drive at work. It could easily change an object speed and vector at a moment’s notice without harming the participant.

  Inside his cockpit, he could see his position on his monitors, relative to everyone else. He was side by side with those of his wing mates. He saw Maniac to his left. Further away was Ballsy. Captain was off in the distance, about 10,000 kilometers away, give or take 100 kilometers, and so were a number of other pilots of his wing ‒ also in formation. They were all out there, and despite the fact that he knew his chances of dying were high …when wasn’t it?, he couldn’t help but think that he could do something dangerous and downright risky that might boost his image in front of his peers. He was in the mood ‒ the mood to show off some stunts.

  His bird-board computer computed the distance to the enemy fle
et’s anti-fighter point-defense envelope and it read ETA 25 minutes, and the sheer weight of time made Trevor ‘Sandy’ Gray anxious and overly impatient. He wanted the combat to begin NOW, and he felt like a kid about to throw a tantrum because of the wait.

  Maybe he was high on drugs ‒ maybe the happysticks hadn’t worn off ‒ or the biological after effects of his orgasm with Captain ‒ but maybe it was just his time. Maybe he was in the zone, again. Whatever it was, he felt like superman.

  Then it struck him. Maybe you should calm yourself. Maybe this is how you’ll get yourself and your teammates killed. Everyone’s life is on the line, and if you do something stupid, you might kill off everyone on your wing, including Maniac and your newly wedded wife. Maybe…

  He ignored it. He knew what he was doing. He was Sandy Gray, the boogyman from Praxis V, who played dangerboy and scoffed at death.

  Yeah! Yeah! Everything is going to be all right! I’m gonna ace more kills and take out a cruiser or something and then go home to my cheering wing mates. Yeah! Come on, let’s do this!

  He pushed his bird to 0.5 c and sped into the darkness towards the incoming enemy fleet.

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown, above the wormhole to Sol, Alpha Centauri System

  Sector General Harvey Yamato gazed at his precious missile ships. With 32 missile ships, he had a total of about 54,000 missiles. He wanted to use them, but it was not time, yet. The enemy fleet had entered the extreme strike range of his fighters but they hadn’t entered the extreme strike range of his sliding-drive antimatter missiles.

  He sighed. While he knew each of his missiles carried around 20 megatons to 40 megatons of TNT blast payload from their 3 kg to 5 kg of antimatter reaction mass, he knew the enemy’s missiles’ payload were in the 40 to 60 megaton range due to their superior antimatter storage warheads. Nevertheless, he intended to win the missile duel.

  He scanned the enemy fleet. Each ship in the enemy fleet was reacting to his incoming fighters by aligning themselves in anti-fighter defense formations. Their smaller ships like destroyers and frigates were moving to the front to screen their larger dreadnoughts. Their Titans had moved into the rear of their fleet formation. This was typical of them… standard tactics.

  But ‒ he blinked ‒ what wasn’t standard tactics was that two of their battlecruisers were also moving to the front of their formation along with their frigates and destroyers. He eyed the holomap in confusion. What was the enemy doing??

  He scanned the assigned IDs of the two battlecruisers and realized that these two enemy warships at their front were fresh… they had not participated in the earlier battles leading to this. Where had they come from? What were their intended purpose? Why were they acting as screening elements? Usually the enemy’s destroyers and frigates acted as screening elements to whittle down his fighter force before his fighters attacked the enemy’s battlecruisers and dreadnoughts.

  That was the ultimate goal of his fighter force… to take down enemy battlecruisers and dreadnoughts, and if possible, to damage the enemy’s titans. But if the enemy commander offered two of his battlecruisers at point blank range right in front of their fleet for Yamato to take them down… then he had to oblige and take them down. That is what his fighter force was for… to take down enemy capital ships like battlecruisers and above.

  Yet, as Yamato thought about it, it seemed too easy. Why were they sacrificing two of their battlecruisers instead of keeping them back so they’d be protected?

  Shrugging, Harvey Yamato silently watched the battle unfold. He let his orders stand.

  Cockpit, Fighter 004, on attack transit to the enemy fleet, Alpha Centauri System

  Trevor ‘Sandy’ Gray saw the two behemoths on his monitors. They idled out in front of the enemy fleet’s formation, almost inviting Trevor to attack them.

  “Permission to attack battlecruisers E1 and E2, commander?” Trevor asked on the command link.

  “Permission denied,” came the response from his direct Wing Commander, Jerome Bottis. “Alpha Wing will attack those two strays. Beta Wing ‒ our wing ‒ will continue on target and attack the enemy superdreadnoughts near the back of the enemy fleet’s formation.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Trevor, somewhat saddened that he wouldn’t be allowed to ravage the two battlecruisers that were obviously making themselves vulnerable to a fighter strike.

  Trevor watched as the range between the two combatants decreased. Every second that passed, his fighter and those of his friends inched closer to the enemy fleet.

  And closer…

  And closer…

  “Alpha Wing,” said Alpha Wing’s Commander, Donald Reese, “commence attack on battlecruisers E1 and E2. Begin bombing run. Good luck and good hunting!”

  Trevor said nothing. He continued on course, listening and watching with envy as Alpha Wing began its attack on those two battlecruisers that were clearly ahead of all other ships in the enemy fleet.

  On his monitors, he saw all 16 ‘Starfury’ class mark-9 strike fighters of Alpha Wing accelerate to maximum speed towards battlecruisers E1 and E2. He wished he were part of them. He could already imagine their shield deflectors being manually adjusted so most of the shield concentration reinforced the forward half of their birds in preparation for any anti-fighter point defense beams or flak from E1 and E2.

  Closer… Closer…

  He watched as enemy battlecruiser E1 opened up its weapon ports and ‒ OH MY GOD ‒ there were so many flak cannons! That’s a mobile flak platform disguised as a battlecruiser!

  Suddenly, the command channel exploded with cries from multiple birds. “All birds, abort! ABORT!” yelled Alpha Wing’s Donald Reese. “I repeat, ABORT the attack run!”

  And then E1 and E2 opened up with their cannons ‒ and suddenly, thousands, no, millions of exploding shells gushed out of E1 and E2 right into the path of the incoming starfuries of Alpha Wing. The space in front of Alpha Wing literally lit up with exploding fragments that smashed into shields. With so many of these metal fragments exploding, naturally some penetrated the shields of Alpha Wing’s fighters and crashed into the hulls of inadequately armored starfuries that were never meant to withstand this much anti-fighter fire. Within half a minute, 9 birds out the original 16 had dropped off sensors, their ID transmissions ceased to exist.

  Dead.

  What was worse was that Alpha Wing was not the only Wing to attack E1 and E2. Wings from other carriers had also been sent to attack E1 and E2. They were annihilated. Trevor tried to count and make a ball park estimate… 80, no, maybe 90 birds dead within a minute.

  People screamed on the command net. The screams of dying men and women filled Trevor’s headset.

  “Pull back! Pull back!” said one.

  “I ain’t getting out of this one ‒ oh god, oh god—” said another.

  “Regroup! Regroup!”

  Trevor shook his head and almost turned his headset off. He didn’t want to hear the yelling of people who were about to be sent into oblivion any longer.

  “Beta Wing! Beta Wing!” said Jerome Bottis’s familiar voice suddenly, “continue on course towards the enemy superdreadnoughts. Avoid battlecruisers E1 and E2 at all costs!”

  “They’re firing at us, commander!” said another member of beta wing.

  “Oh, shit—”

  On his monitors, Trevor suddenly saw E1 turn and angle its broadside towards where the members of his wing were ‒ where he was. E1 aimed its flak cannons ‒ all seven hundred of them ‒ and fired. Luckily, there was so much more distance—

  “Beta Wing,” said Jerome Bottis, “evasive maneuvers! Spread out! Spread out!”

  “Yes, sir!” Trevor angled his fighter in a random direction and punched his drive. So did the other 15 members of his wing. Beta Wing became an exploding beehive, as everyone tried to create distance from each other.

  And then the flak shells came. The canisters detonated. All thousands of them.

  “I’m hit!” yelled Grim.

&
nbsp; “Me, too!” said Maniac. “But it’s not bad. It’s not bad. The damage is not terrible!”

  Trevor heard a clunk in his cockpit and wondered what part of his bird got caught with a metal fragment. He suddenly glanced at his damage control monitor and it showed a piece of foreign metal in his rear laser communication set. Not serious, at least.

  Blue-white shield splattered all around his fighter as his deflector matrix tried to push away dozens of high-velocity metal fragments. His shield capacity monitor showed 65%, then 55%, then 40%…

  “Ahhhhh!” yelled a voice. It was Greta Antoine ‘Grim’. Suddenly, her ID blinked off the map monitor. Trevor had no idea what happened to her fighter.

  Then, suddenly, the pounding stopped.

  “Thank god,” said Maniac. “We’re out of its flak envelope.”

  “Everyone, ok?” said the Wing Commander. “Grim, you there?”

  No answer.

  “Is everyone else, ok?”

  “Yes, sir.” Trevor nodded, and then gazed at his monitors and saw E1 angle its broadside at another target, another Wing from another human carrier. He prayed for their safety…

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown, above the wormhole to Sol, Alpha Centauri System

  Harvey Yamato slammed his fist on his armrest.

  Goddamn it! He had lost 200 birds in under five minutes! At this rate, he was certain to lose over 40% of his entire fighter force by the time the strike ended.

  Sector General Yamato wiped the perspiration off his head and tried to not look flustered. He gazed at the readouts of the monitors surrounding his command chair. He had to think. Should he abort the entire strike now?

  No! He had to continue! Aborting the strike now would mean taking the brunt of the damage to his fighters without doing any damage to the enemy’s capital ship fleet.

  Yet, how he should have known! He should have realized those two battlecruisers at the front were specialized flak ships. He should have realized the enemy would by now have adapted a major portion of their capital fleet to specialized anti-fighter roles especially after how well his fighters had fought against the enemy’s battlecruisers in the previous battles up to this.