Battle of Sol Page 7

Combat was his life.

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown

  The pulsar gun blew up. At one moment, it was firing out into the void, hitting enemy spaceships with 500 megaton beams, and the next moment, it was engulfed in a massive blinding gigaton explosion that could only be its power core succumbing to enemy fire. Yamato supposed it was natural after all it had been through. The enemy fleet had literally been showering it with grazer beams… from all directions.

  Now, Yamato watched as eight major pieces of the pulsar gun expanded outward from its central helix, moving through their own momentum created from the blast. Nevertheless, that particular pulsar gun had done its duty. It was best not to hope for too much. The weapon had literally taken down a dozen enemy ships.

  He wished it could have taken down more… a lot more. But he knew it was only a wish.

  Switching his gaze to the other sole remaining pulsar gun, he saw that this pulsar gun’s shields were just beginning to crumble. He eyed the shield saturation levels, and saw that it was in the single digits. Not good. Not good at all.

  Once the remaining pulsar gun goes down, the enemy will surely target my ships, and with depleted shields, my ships will fall at a much faster rate than theirs.

  Then what will I do? Should I call the retreat, now?

  No… He couldn’t call the retreat now, especially when the outcome of the battle was still hanging in the balance. It would be much too early.

  We can do it! Through force of will, we can rise and defeat battlefield statistics.

  But can we defeat logic and well-known facts? Yamato shuddered to think. Was he being stupid to think that he could still win this battle? Was he being overly optimistic? And was he dreaming?

  Yet, he wanted to win. He wanted to keep the battlefield centered in this system. He didn’t want to escape to Sol and give up Alpha Centauri, especially now that the enemy’s Titans were dead. If he did escape to Sol, then he would most certainly be condemning 8 billion people here to death. And worse, he knew that if he disconnected the wormhole passage to Sol, the enemy would have all the time in the world to create defensive forts around the artificial wormhole gate so that when he did reopen it later, he would be forced to fight through the heaviest of enemy defenses. Worse yet, if he blew up the way to Sol, he would have an even less chance of turning the war around, as the enemy at this point had much greater production power ‒ even if he had Earth and the entire Sol system to help him continue fighting the war.

  I must win the battle here! Now!

  Yet… as he scavenged his brain for solutions, he couldn’t find any except the most desperate hopes of hopes.

  “All ships, align yourself around the last remaining pulsar gun. Let’s try to divert as much enemy fire away from it as possible,” he said into the command line.

  **

  The remaining human capital ships, all 20 of them, suddenly tried a maneuver that could be best called ‘desperate’ ‒ they moved themselves into a defensive parameter around the last remaining pulsar gun in hopes of blocking enemy fire.

  It was futile.

  The enemy ships simply started sliding sideways so they could gain line of fire on the pulsar gun. While the pulsar gun continued to fire beams at the enemy ships, the enemy ships ravaged the last remnants of the supergun’s shields.

  Two percent became one percent… then… nothing.

  Enemy fire penetrated through the dissipated shields and crashed into the supergun’s armor. Armor tore, bled, and exploded as continuous fire from the whole enemy fleet rained onto it from all sides. With only 100 meters of armor at the densest sections, this armor could not hold against that much punishment. Eventually, some of the vast enemy fire seeped into the supergun’s internals and destroyed the power flows to the gun’s main cannon…

  The gun’s primary firing mechanism jammed. It stopped firing.

  And so did the enemy. Realizing that the human pulsar gun was as good as dead, the Argonan combatants immediately switched their fire at the human ships.

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown

  Sector General Yamato slammed his fist into his command chair. Damn it! His last pulsar gun had been neutralized ‒ it was broken!

  Now, it was a pure ship to ship battle above the wormhole gate to Sol, with both fleets having lost all their assets with the highest firepower.

  Now… he truly did not have any more stationary guns or laser turrets to help him defend the wormhole gate. All that remained were his ships.

  He looked at the holo stats surrounding him and examined how many ships he had remaining. He still had 16 battlecruisers and 4 superdreadnoughts. The enemy, on the other hand, still had 25 battlecruisers and 7 superdreadnoughts.

  Damn! Thought Yamato, suddenly pondered furiously while sitting in his command chair. Why were the numbers so uneven? Why had so many of the enemy ships survived all the phases of the battle when his ships had been destroyed and burned?

  To come up with an answer, he forced himself to dig into his knowledge of what had happened so far.

  First, he knew that during the course of the enemy’s attack on his pulsar guns, he had been able to take out 5 Argonan battlecruisers and 1 Argonan superdreadnought ‒ which was a full 15% of the enemy’s capital ship fleet.

  Yamato frowned. Why was that number so low? He gazed at the holomap furiously. Why had the enemy succeeded in taking out 45% of his capital ship fleet during his attack on the enemy’s Titans and why had he only been able to destroy 15% of the enemy’s capital ship fleet during their attack on his pulsar guns? He thought and thought about it, and he finally came up with an explanation.

  One, the enemy’s ships were simply stronger defensively than his human ships. The enemy’s armor was simply too much compared to the shield-plus-weak-armor combination his ships had. Even though his ships had shields, once his shields were depleted, they were simply dead meat because of inadequate armor. He remembered how the other battles within the other systems and even the first eight battles within Alpha Centauri had played out. Human ship armor simply wasn’t strong enough compared to Argonan ship armor. The fact that human ships had shields meant that if any human fleet commander wanted to win, he needed to fight until his shields ran out and then retreat while letting his shields recharge before combating again. Yamato simply hadn’t done that. He hadn’t been given an opportunity for his shields to recharge.

  The second reason was this: the duration of Yamato’s eventually successful attack on the enemy’s Titans was much longer than the time it took for the enemy to destroy his pulsar guns. Because his attack took much longer, the enemy’s capital ships were able to destroy more of Yamato’s ships while his ships were concentrating their fire on the enemy’s Titans. That would also explain why, during his attack on the enemy’s Titans, his pulsar guns had been able to destroy 20% of the enemy’s fleet, and why, during the enemy’s attack on his pulsar guns, his pulsar guns and capital ships combined had only been able to destroy 15% of the enemy’s fleet. It was a matter of time allotted.

  And, there was actually a third reason, now that he thought about it. The enemy simply had more ships to begin with. More ships, more firepower and more kills.

  Sector General Yamato leaned back on his command chair. He sighed.

  So… knowing what he did, what should he do now? ‒ now that he knew about the qualitative and quantitatively aspects of ships in both fleets? Ought he retreat? ‒ based on what he knew about the capabilities of each remaining ship, enemy and human, within the system?

  He knew that if his ships were not enough to defend the wormhole gate, he would have to make the hard decision and tell all his ships to retreat through the wormhole gate.

  So could he defend it? Did he have enough ships?

  Come on, Harvey! Think! Think!

  Immediately, he knew the instinctive and obvious answer was that he had to retreat.

  He had to, because his ships were worse in defensive quality ‒ as long as they aren’t given t
he opportunity to recharge their shields ‒ and he had less ships to fight the remaining battle.

  “All ships,” he began to say into the command line, but then he stopped.

  He knew he ought to say ‘full retreat through the wormhole gate and head back to Sol’, but he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. Because he knew that if he did that, he would be condemning all 8 billion human lives in Alpha Centauri to death. He knew the Argonans were merciless and only thought in terms of strategic advantages and in that type of perspective, keeping 8 billion human lives in Alpha Centauri alive made no sense at all to them.

  There had to be be some way for him to win this battle, even though his remaining ships were worse both in quality and quantity.

  Gritting his teeth, he searched his brain for some way ‒ fully knowing that the odds were nearly impossible that he could find that solution.

  Cockpit, Fighter 004, in battle

  It was a point blank distance ‒ in fighter combat terms ‒ between his carrier Yorktown and the nearest enemy warship. It took less than 30 seconds to get there and…

  Trevor saw the enemy vessel ahead of him in his cockpit displays. An Argonan battlecruiser… a piece of cake.

  Trevor glanced at his shield output display. With fully regenerated shields, he didn’t have to worry about blowing up to a random flak or PD laser hit. Besides… he knew what he was doing, he was an expert at dodging enemy anti-fighter fire.

  With an eye on the enemy battlecruiser, he maneuvered his fighter so it followed a random zigzag pattern towards the position he wanted to be in to perfectly launch his bombs.

  It took a little while, but he got there.

  Perfect.

  He could see the enemy ship’s starboard flank. Pressing a button, he launched his bombs.

  Missiles away!

  On his screens, he saw his short range missiles speed towards the enemy battlecruiser. They struck the side of the ship and the ensuing quadruple 500-megaton detonations blew giant craters in the ship’s armor. Gases gushed out and secondary explosions blew in a chain reaction but the ship did not stop moving, nor did it stop firing at the other ships in the human fleet ‒ nor did it stop firing back at Trevor like an animal.

  Trevor sighed. Its drive ring was virtually intact, a byproduct of it making a last minute sliding maneuver while his missiles were on the way.

  Well, you can’t be perfect every time. He turned tail and ran to get out the ship’s point defense envelope.

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown

  No! No! He did not want to give up the system, but he knew he had to.

  Yamato gazed at the damage reports throughout his fleet, and then studied the accompanying casualty lists concerning his fleet. In a period of 4 minutes, he had lost another 4 battlecruisers and 1 superdreadnought ‒ mostly because his ships, once unshielded, became mince-meat to the Argonans. Unshielded human ships were simply incapable of standing toe to toe to Argonan capital ships! Meanwhile, the Argonans only lost one battlecruiser and one superdreadnought!

  Yamato shook his head. This wasn’t the first time he had faced this decision. Yet it was probably the most important decision he would ever make. Deep down, he knew he ought to retreat ‒ that all logic was telling him to, yet he couldn’t. He foolishly believed he could win the battle, and to the better of him, his heart chased that foolish feeling.

  Yet he knew somewhere down inside him ‒ that as master commander of all human forces ‒ that he had to make difficult decisions, decisions that sacrificed millions of human lives for the better good. Wasn’t this another difficult decision he had to make? Wasn’t this a point in his life where he was faced with the ultimate difficult decision?

  I... I’ve got to make the right decision, no matter what my emotion-filled brain wants me to do. I… must do it!

  He surveyed the remaining ships in the artificial holographic battlefield displayed before him once more. The holos did not lie. He had 12 battlcruisers and 3 superdreadnoughts left. The enemy had 24 battlecruisers and 6 superdreadnoughts left. They outnumbered his fleet by 2 to 1! Worse, his ships had no shields left and had far weaker armor.

  “All ships,” he spoke into the command line, while his voice trembled, “retreat through the wormhole. Full withdrawal, now!”

  Cockpit, Fighter 004, in battle

  “Wing Commander Bottis to all birds in beta wing, the fleet commander has called a full retreat! Abandon your attacks and go through the wormhole back to Sol. Anyone who doesn’t enter the wormhole after the fleet commander detonates the bombs will be trapped in Alpha Centauri. So make it through, pronto!”

  “Aww,” whispered Trevor.

  “I heard that! That means you, Sandy. Abandon your attack immediately and head straight towards the wormhole. I’d hate to lose a wacky pilot like you. We’ll dock with Yorktown after we pass through the wormhole and enter the Sol system. Bottis, out.”

  Trevor bit his lip. I was just about to enter another bombing run, damn it all!

  On his cockpit display, he gazed at the enemy battlecruiser. He wanted to take it down so bad. He wanted to finish it. Yet, now he knew that he might never have the opportunity, again.

  One day… As if he could speak to that Argonan battlecruiser aligned before him. One day, I will get you. Until that day comes, you can pretend you’re safe, but your metal butt is mine!

  Trevor maneuvered his controls so his bird pointed towards the wormhole. Giving a last look at the enemy battlecruiser behind him, he punched his drive to full and headed in the opposite direction.

  **

  Throughout the battlefield above the wormhole gate, the human ships withdrew from all engagements with the enemy’s ships. Each of the human ships angled towards the wormhole gate and accelerated to maximum speed. The enemy ships, of course, fired and fired at the backs of the human ships.

  Grazer beams tore at the weaker aft armor of the human ships, doing damage to several ships’ internals. One ‒ no, two ‒ human ships lost their ability to move and were surrounded and destroyed.

  Eventually, all remaining human ships came to within 20,000 kilometers of the wormhole gate to Sol and they lined up for a swift and easy passage through the wormhole entrance.

  The enemy ships attempted to gain firing range on the easy line up of human ships at the dead center of the battlefield, but the moment they came close to the human ships, the automated human mines surrounding the wormhole gate activated.

  The Argonan battlecruiser The Bridge of Enlightened Fear was the first to step in front of a mine. The mine, which was a Valsorium-metal-coated extremely-short-range missile, was a stealth mine ‒ impossible to detect except when activated at extremely close range. It took milliseconds for the mine to close the distance with the Argonan battlecruiser, much too short of a time for the Argonan ship to fire its point defenses at the mine.

  The mine exploded, detonating the equivalent of 800 megatons of TNT, right in front of the enemy ship. The explosion created a massive crater in its carbon hull, which instantly began venting out atmosphere and internal power plasma. Massive secondary explosions followed, which, besides neutralizing the enemy ship, caused its main power chamber to malfunction. The battlecruiser stopped moving forward and was dead in space.

  The other Argonan ships, after seeing what had happened to their comrades, also halted their move to close into weapons range with the human ships that were making transit through the wormhole gate…

  Bridge, Federation Starship Yorktown, lining to make transit through the wormhole gate to Sol

  Yamato had done it. He had lost a total of 4 ships during the entire retreat ‒ but once his ships came within the protective perimeter of his stealth mines surrounding the gate, he knew he would not lose any more ships. The stealth mines would protect his ships by forcing the enemy to keep a distance ‒ a distance far enough to prevent the enemy from firing at his vulnerable ships that were currently making transit.

  It was inevitable ‒ this much was true ‒ t
he enemy would eventually neutralize his stealth mines, probably through whatever minesweeping tactics they had, but by then all his ships would have made transit and he would have already detonated the final bombs that would destroy the wormhole gate to Sol.

  Now, it was only a matter of time before all his ships made transit…

  He eyed the two planets within the system he was saying goodbye to. There were over 8 billion humans in Alpha Centauri, damn it! Yet, he was giving them up.

  His brain had been consumed with the possibility of their death for the past week, knowing that he may have to give them up. Now, it was an inevitability. All 8 billion were as good as dead.

  Yamato sat there and sighed. Such was the state of the war. The enemy wanted everything, and it did not matter to them that human lives got in the way.

  But then… a thought occurred to him… what was 8 billion lives who are about to die when compared to the 600 billion lives who were already dead?

  Yamato shook his head, why did this war happen? Why were the Argonans so ruthless in their chase for galactic dominance?

  Why couldn’t they leave humanity and whatever other races that got in their way… alone?

  Such was the mechanics of how the galaxy was formed, he supposed. The universe had to create a race of bipedal reptilians in the Gamma G star cluster at the exact same time a race of bipedal monkeys had gained star faring technology and was just in the process of discovering the galaxy. And the universe had to make it so that this race of bipedal reptilians, these Argonans, had to declare war on the rest of the galaxy, especially on these humans, when both races were nearly equivalent in warring technology, with only minor differences that gave the Argonans a definite edge.

  Then of course, the universe had to give the Argonans the artificial warp nexus technology that enabled them to enter the backyards of the human nation without ever having to face the human fleets defending the front lines.