SAW 1: Stars at War (14 page)

Elsewhere, other human starships fired into the rears of
snake ships.

Under the heat of enemy fire, as the flag bridge rocked to
numerous internal explosions, Prion wondered how much more the battle station
could in fact—take. Shields collapsed long ago. Ordinary nano carbon armor
surrounding the station were ripped and smashed. Many of the fortress's
sections now showed red-red-black. Power fluctuations across the entire station
meant many of her lasers wouldn't work. The only thing which could get worse
would be a fusion core containment meltdown.

She could very well die right now, but if she could just
delay the battle station 's death by a few more minutes, it would be worth it,
because her warships were shooting unopposed into the sides and rears of every
snake starship that had turned to shoot down her Battle Fortress.

Just a couple more minutes...hold together, baby.

"Admiral!" Kirkeis called again, "You must
designate a second in command if we are to die! The chain of command must not
be broken! You must choose someone to take over, now!"

Prion nodded her head. "Right!" Looking at her
instruments, she could broadcast a fleetwide chain of command order, right now.
Who could she choose? This all come as a huge surprise. She hadn't expected the
enemy to shoot down her battle station, but it became obvious they would. So
which one of her captains would she designate as fleet commander?

Senior Captain Jacobs of the Juggernaut
Western Star
?
Senior Captain Raynor of Juggeranut
Heaven's Descent
? Captain Shuemacher
of the Heavy-cruiser
Pincer Claw
?

Prion decided on an answer. She picked Captain Raynor. Yes,
if she died, Captain Raynor would command the fleet from his bridge onboard the
Heaven's Descent. Prion pressed a button linking her voice to the fleetwide
command net. As she spoke, "Fellow captains, the fleet command fortress is
coming to an end. The next commander will be—"

Simultaneously, to her announcement, from very close inside
the fortress, an intense explosion erupted from her left. Before she could even
turn to look, a gigantic room-sized fireball blew metal and gas into the room,
sending spasms of heat and metallic splinters ricocheting off every surface of
the fortress's flag bridge. Below, fast-moving metal objects cut men and women
to pieces like a randomly aimed machine gun. Prion saw it in a blink of an eye,
as shockwaves of heat exploded from her left. Instantly, she found herself
flying at extreme speeds across the room. Her body smashed into the right wall.
The padding of her uniform took most of the blow. She found herself,
miraculously, still conscious as she fell off the wall. The floor greeted her
with a
‘oomph
.’

"Admiral Kirkeis!" she yelled. Kirkeis was nowhere
to be found. Instead, the table where he’d sat became broken splinters. She
turned to look at the flag captain. "Captain Grisham, what happened? Where
did that explosion come from?"

Captain Grisham yelled back, "Must have been one of the
port fusion reactors nearby. An enemy beam must have scored a direct hit!"
Then, as he turned and gazed at Prion. His eyes widened. "My stars, medic!
The admiral needs help!"

Prion shook her head. "You must tell the fleet who is
command! Our flag bridge is compromised! We can no longer command the
fleet!"

"Who is it?"

"Captain Raynor of the
Heaven's Descent
. He is
temporary commander!"

"Gotcha. I'll—" Another blast shook the bridge.
Heat and raw explosions threw Captain Grisham's body like a doll.

The sound of metal tearing and the hull buckling
instantaneously told Prion the station had very little life left."Captain
Grisham?" Prion crawled her way closer. She had no feelings in her legs.
When she looked behind her, she saw nothing there. Her legs were broken stumps,
bleeding a trail of blood.

This is not how it's supposed to end!
Prion crawled.
She was supposed to win…her destiny. From day one, when she stepped onto that
campus, to year ten, when she became captain of a starship, to year fifteen,
when she was made a rear admiral, it was hers to win. Her gamble was supposed
to pay off.
Not this. Not like this...

Blood continued pouring out from those holes that had been
her legs. Prion suddenly felt so tired. As she crawled with her arms, the metal
ground greeted her in icy comfort.
Sleep.
She stared ahead. More
explosions tossed men, women and body parts in every direction, like splashed
water.

Sleep. Broken body parts spewed across the bridge. Someone's
arm landed right in front of her.

Sleep.
My stars, so much blood everywhere.
There was
little she could do, now.
Maybe if I close my eyes, everything will become
better. It was all up to Captain Raynor of the Heaven's Descent. He'll know
what to do. Maybe when I wake up, I'll be in an infirmary and the battle will
be won...

I'll just close my eyes a bit...

Sleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Light-cruiser
Harrington

Bridge

E
lise de
Manchu's state of mind couldn't be described in words.

Chaos reigned everywhere. Burning metal. Retching infernos
and exploding cinders. The sight of death and moaning crewmen abounded.

If she’d known being a captain would be like this, she
wouldn't have joined the officer's academy on Gregor.

During the snakes' missile attack, Elise witnessed a
neighboring ship cut from inside out by snake laser warheads from the rear.
Hundreds upon hundreds of nuke-pumped grazer beams smashed into the starship
beside her. Elise felt glad it wasn't hers, that it was someone else's problem.

For several seconds, she felt safe—she wasn't targeted,
being too far from the fleet's borders to be targeted. Then, when that poor
starship exploded from the inside out, Elise realized she was in real trouble.

There were still many laser missiles left, and they veered
towards her. Then, one by-one, they exploded, lasering her rear with dozens of
fortress-sized energy payloads.

The following explosions inside her ship, a cacophony of
death and loss, occurred because she could not turn to face those remaining
laser warheads.

No one could. as It was a strategic necessity.

So…she patiently took the hits, and the losses within her
ship surmounted. Ahead of her, the snake battle wall continued raining down on
her fleet—and her ship.

Then the order came. "All ships, ahead full!" said
a voice on the fleet net. Admiral Prion's voice had never sounded so confident.

Elise felt a surge of relief when she heard that voice. So
charming. So lucid and simple. "You heard the old lady!" Elise yelled
to her bridge crew. She then charged her light-cruiser right into the snake
fleet, right along with every other human ship.

The world of grazer fire opened up on her from all sides.
Enemy warships from every direction fired in every direction—a cacophony—a
massacre.

Orders from the admiral kept coming in, telling Elise what
to do. Who to shoot. Where to turn. How much to accelerate.

Then, the orders stopped.

For the longest pause, she waited. "What happened to
the flagship?"

One of the lieutenants, Debries, changed the holomap so it
centered on the battle station . Across the bridge, officers gasped.

The mobile fortress, the Admiral's flagship, loitered as
crumbling wreckage. Explosions blew out from its gigantic 80 kilometer hull.
Shieldless, it succumbed to concentrated snake grazer fire, which destroyed its
numerous fusion reactors. It was so large even several reactor detonations
didn't break it into pieces—neutralized, a wreck of its previous power.

Then—Elise succumbed to the fear. From the back of Elise's
mind, the gigantic pillar of confidence which came from a chain of
command—completely collapsed.

Distraught, confused, uncoordinated, it seemed the entire
fleet also lost that vital entity which made it a fighting force.

Fleet net babbled with a mix of voices. "Who is in
command?" "What do we do?" "Should we withdraw?" the
voices rippled and echoed.

The lack of coordination meant the human fleet suffered more
losses than it could bear, and it dealt less damage than it should have. No one
knew what to do. No one took charge.

Elise then ordered the helmsman to accelerate backwards, out
of the battlefield.

Seeing her retreat, the snake starships targeted her.

Firepower from four snakes overwhelmed her forward armor.
The insides of the
Harrington
became a burning, charred mess. Her new
crew, freshly replenished from space dock since the last battle, suffered
overwhelming fatalities.

The incoming grazer fire caused so much damage the power
fluctuations sent the bridge into darkness. Elise couldn't see. She didn't know
what happened to her ship. She didn't know what might be occurring outside in
the overall battle. All she could see, hear, and feel was sparkling fire, fire
that came from exploding cinders on the walls and panels.

Elise once again, had no choice but to pray.

Help me.

"Someone help me," she beseeched to the gods that
controlled the stars.

Gamma Wing

Mark Four Space Fighter  ‘Zeta-1’

Wing Commander's Cockpit

Disarray. Total disarray.

"Fighter command? Admiral Gilbert, you there?"
shouted Bobbi into the fleet's command net.

No response.

There were no more orders from Fighter Command. Rear Admiral
Gilbert no longer responded on the net.
Why?

A new voice sounded on the net, "This is Colonel
Jennings. I'm Beta Wing's commander! Everyone, withdraw! Retreat back to the
carriers! The battle is lost! The Admiral's Battle Fortress has collapsed! It's
over!"

The Admiral's fortress collapsed? What did that mean? Was
the admiral's ship dead? Had it exploded?

Bobbi entered instructions into her computers to check. She
searched for the admiral's fortress.
There!
No, it hadn't exploded. It
was still there. Wrecked, but still in one piece. It wasn't shooting, anymore
and now, the snake battleships avoided it.

This meant the admiral wasn't dead, but if she wasn't
dead or incapacitated—why didn't she respond?

"You heard the colonel! I'm out of here!" said a
member of Bobbi's Wing.

"I'm out, too. Fighting is futile!" another added.

Bobbi instantaneously shouted into her Wing's net, "No!
Get back into the fight. Don't disengage! The battle is not lost!"

"How can you be sure?" someone asked.

Dammit. You just didn't question your commander like that
.
"The admiral's ship may be silent, but that doesn't mean we've lost the
battle! Surely, someone will take charge! Someone high up!"

"What if nobody takes charge? What if the admiral
didn't give orders to anyone before she died?"

"She's not dead!" shouted Bobbi, "Damn it. We
are professional soldiers. Just because our leader doesn't talk doesn't mean we
turn and run. That's what the enemy wants. That's why they targeted our
admiral. We can't give in!"

Agreement crossed over the net.

"So, what do we do? Do we keep targeting the grazer
mounts?" asked the voice.

Bobbi promised herself she would have a talk with him if she
survived the battle. "Yes, we keep targeting the grazer mounts. Every
disabled grazer gun helps our remaining battleships."

"So, when do we stop?"

"When—no, we keep fighting!"

Bobbi stared at the battle map. Other wings were running.
They disengaged from their attacks on the enemy battleships and, in hind view,
were being shot to pieces by snake point defense lasers.

Then, she looked the situation with her battleships.

Her battleships.
Bobbi laughed. Of course, they
weren't her ships. She held no command. If anyone would be the new fleet
commander, it would have to be one of the senior captains in command of a
juggernaut.

Then as she scanned the battlefield, she realized the
situation with the human battleships was grim. Now, when the Battle Fortress
appeared to be dead, an awesome amount of firepower for the humans was lost.

21 human battleships against 29 snake battleships. Over
two-thirds of the human fleet—gone.

Now, the snakes turned their attention back on the human
warships, and instead of the wreckage which had been the Battle Fortress,
things looked bleak, again.

So much death. And who would take charge?

Bobbi punched a button, which turned on her feed to the
fleet's net.

There was utter confusion. Many discordant voices jumbled
together.

"Who is in charge?" Bobbi asked into the net.

"I—don't know! Who is this?"

"Zeta Wing Commander Bobbi Duke."

"Zeta Wing? Glad you're still here. All the other wings
have left
."And so should we, the voice was implying. Leave while we
can.

"It's important that we get a leadership chain
straight. Who did the admiral designate as fleet commander if she—became
incommunicable?" Bobbi asked.

"She didn't say anyone," answered the voice.
"It was naturally assumed that Admiral Kirkeis would be second in
line."

"But Admiral Kirkeis is on the same ship."

"I know."

"Anyone else?" Bobbi asked.

"No one."

"How many senior captains do we have left?"

"Four of our juggernauts are still operational. That's
the
Heaven's Descent
, the
Western Star
, the
Archduke
, and
the
Nicopater
."

"Whose is the most senior?"

"Well, the most senior captain would be Aarons on the
Nicopater."

"Get him online!"

"He's not responding."

Stars, we don't have time for this... "This is Wing
Commander Bobbi Duke to the whole fleet! Does anybody want to lead the fleet?
If not, I will lead!"

A long pause. "This is Captain Jacobs onboard the
Western Star. I will lead the fleet if there is no disagreement."

"Hell!" said Bobbi. "It's about time! We need
you to tell the fleet what to do, immediately! Time is of essence!"

"Thank you. I will do so, now."