TFS Navajo: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 3 (8 page)

“Only sporadic fire from the battleship so far, Captain. They’re probably worried about hitting their cruiser,” Schmidt observed from Tactical 1.

“As well they should be. I’m counting on their realizing at some point that when they
miss
us, there is some danger of hitting Charlie 4, but when they
hit
us, there’s an even better chance that our shields will deflect their rounds right into the cruiser’s drive section.”

“Bravo 1 has launched more fighters — a total of twenty-five now — and they appear to be heading in the general direction of Badger 21 Flight,” Lieutenant Lau reported.

“Is Badger 21 Flight still in a position to cover the
Baldev’s
stern for us?” Prescott asked.

“Yes, sir, but they may get distracted shortly.”

“Tactical, I need both of you stay focused on your attack run. Lieutenant Lee, please coordinate with all three Badger flights to make sure they keep Bravo 1 pinned down. They may not need our help handling the enemy fighters, but we’ll see what we can do after we deal with Charlie 4.”

“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Lee responded from the Science and Engineering console.

For such a large warship, the BD cruiser
Keturah
was still surprisingly nimble. As Ensign Fisher maneuvered to stay on her tail,
Theseus’
AI dutifully gathered a wide array of performance data in the hopes of revealing a vulnerability that might later be exploited to bring about her demise. Everything from the cruiser’s acceleration and turn rate/radius to minute changes in the apparent power output of her engines and shields while firing her energy weapons was measured, analyzed, and cataloged. With such a wealth of new data to work with, it didn’t take
Theseus’
AI long to begin passing along various pieces of valuable information via the tactical assessment displayed on the bridge view screen. The first of these was an indication that the enemy vessel’s Wek designers had achieved significant improvements in maneuverability and power generation capacity over the original cruiser designs encountered previously.

“Fisher, the AI reports that your target is nearly thirty percent more maneuverable and has twenty-five percent more power output than the older cruisers we’ve run into before. I just thought you’d want to know,” Commander Reynolds chuckled. Time and again, she had seen Captain Prescott exhibit his sometimes quirky sense of humor at what seemed like the strangest of times. What she had come to realize, however, was that allowing crewmembers to fixate and become too intense in the heat of combat was a major performance killer. Glancing at her captain for a reaction, she received a knowing grin and a wink in reply.

“Uh … many thanks to the AI for that, ma’am,” Fisher replied. “That helps a lot … I guess. Seriously, though, I’m almost there, I just need a few more seconds.”

Although
Theseus
was clearly the more maneuverable of the two warships, matching the enemy cruiser’s aggressive and seemingly random changes in speed and direction was turning out to be a bigger challenge than the young helmsman had expected.

“Missile launch!” Lieutenant Lau reported from Tactical 2. “Bravo 1 just ripple-fired three two missiles from her ventral launch tubes. Time to impact, three eight seconds.”

“Lieutenant Lee, launch countermeasures. All weapons to point defense mode,” Prescott responded without hesitation.

“Countermeasures, aye. Beam and kinetic weapons switching to point defense mode. Sea-whiz online and tracking inbound missiles,” Lee replied.

“Now would be a good time, Tactical,” Prescott said, the first hints of urgency creeping into his voice.

“They must think they’ve got us in a pretty tight spot to risk hitting their own cruiser with a stray missile,” Reynolds said, leaning to her left so that only Prescott could hear.

“They probably do, and they’re probably right. They know we can’t transition, and they also know we’ll be reluctant to break off this attack in an effort to avoid their missiles.”

Reynolds glanced at the tactical plot, noting the positions of the decoys designed to duplicate the emissions characteristics of the destroyer and fool the incoming missiles into chasing them instead. Thus far, all thirty-two inbound missiles appeared to be ignoring the decoys and heading directly for the
Theseus
. As she watched, the display updated to display the rapidly closing missiles in an ominous pulsating red that sent a chill of déjà vu coursing down the length of her spine.

“Time to impact, two niner seconds,” Lee updated.

***

At a point roughly halfway between the
Theseus
and Bravo 1, all thirty-six fighters assigned to Badger 1 Flight transitioned into normal space. Just as before, every spacecraft was positioned so that it was afforded a clear line of fire — this time at the anti-ship missiles fired by the
Baldev
. Realizing the destroyer’s tenuous position, Captain Zhukov allocated a total of four HB-7c missiles for each enemy missile targeting the
Theseus
. Just three hundred milliseconds after the
Reapers
transitioned, one hundred and twenty-eight of the multimission-capable missiles leapt from their underwing pylons and accelerated rapidly away from the fighters.”

“Badger 1 Flight - Fox Alpha!”
Captain Zhukov announced over the tactical comm channel. By convention, the “Alpha” designation was an indication that the versatile missiles were being launched in what would have once been considered “air-to-air” mode. At such close range, the missiles’ onboard C-Drives were unnecessary. Instead, each weapon received initial targeting instructions from its fighter before launch, then relied on a sophisticated suite of internal sensors to ensure a successful intercept of its target.

A reactionless Cannae drive, without the blazing engine nozzle still used in similar Wek-designed weapons, propelled each Terran weapon along a short, predetermined course towards the location where its flight path would intercept one of Bravo 1’s missiles. Accordingly — in the visible spectrum at least — the Human missiles were all but invisible as their onboard processors made final, minute course corrections in an effort to achieve clean, “skin-to-skin” hits on their targets.

Perhaps even more difficult to detect, however, were two cylindrical pods deployed by two of the
Baldev’s
original nine fighters shortly before they had been destroyed by Badger 22 Flight. Designed originally to operate autonomously, each Carrada Area Denial Weapons pod was capable of positioning itself within a designated anti-access zone in the hopes of complicating the efforts of enemy forces attempting to achieve tactical superiority — particularly with small, fighter-class spacecraft. In this case, the
Baldev’s
fighters had simply released the pods at a location roughly half the distance to the
Keturah
in anticipation of precisely this sort of opportunity.

Using data provided by the battlespace defense system to calculate the closest approach of Badger 1 Flight, each pod now pivoted in the direction of the oncoming fighters and fired three kinetic energy interceptors. Rather than relying on their own source of propulsion — which would have dramatically increased the size and complexity of the system — each interceptor was fired from a rail launcher not unlike those used by railgun and plasma torpedo mounts aboard TFC vessels. While somewhat limited in power due to their size, each pod was equipped with a gravitic generator capable of counteracting the inertia of its projectiles during launch. This allowed each interceptor to cover the relatively small distance to their targets at a speed of over seven thousand kilometers per second.

At a distance projected to disperse a precise quantity of fragments across the volume of space occupied by the oncoming fighters, each interceptor detonated a small set of charges along its length. Milliseconds later, six rapidly expanding cones of submunitions merged with Badger 1’s flight path at a combined speed of nearly five percent the speed of light.

Like the
Theseus,
each F-373 fighter was equipped with a gravitic shield capable of simultaneously deflecting a significant (albeit unknown) number of incoming munitions. The engineers had warned, and combat experience had now proven, that kinetic energy rounds were the most difficult ordinance to deflect, particularly when they approached from angles nearly perpendicular to the hull. Now, as the stacked formation of fighters encountered the cloud of deadly fragments very nearly head-on, their shields were forced to handle a situation that was suboptimal in almost every respect. Worse still, as the lead spacecraft successfully deflected the first series of fragments it encountered, a great many of the rounds were sent careening directly into other fighters in the formation — also at angles approaching ninety degrees. A mere fraction of a second later, the shields of the fighters nearest the front of the formation were overwhelmed — leading instantaneously to their complete destruction. As their rapidly expanding debris clouds stretched out towards the other ships in the formation at relativistic speeds, the additional fragments only served to enhance the Carrada’s destructive power.

Of the original thirty-six
Reapers
assigned to Badger 1 Flight, only six survived unscathed, including Captain Zhukov’s ship. Twenty-three F-373 fighters were completely destroyed, as were the accompanying (and unshielded) six
Hunter
RPSVs detached from the
Theseus
at the onset of the battle. No emergency locator beacon signals emanated from the debris field — the fighters having been destroyed with such violence that even the heavily armored “bathtubs” designed to protect their pilots were ground into fragments. The remaining seven spacecraft, while all more or less in one piece, were incapable of continuing the battle — and only three still possessed operable C-Drives.

Even before the pilots of the remaining operational
Reapers
had become fully aware of the grievous damage inflicted against their flight, their AIs had coordinated and settled on a response designed to prevent the loss of additional spacecraft. Under such extreme circumstances — when both lives and valuable equipment were likely to be lost unless action was taken at a pace far exceeding their Human pilots’ capabilities — the AIs were authorized to act autonomously. Having already located the source of the weapons that had attacked them, the two closest fighters instantly opened fire with both their dorsal and ventral railgun turrets — their own kinetic energy penetration rounds streaking away towards the two Carrada weapons pods at just under ten percent the speed of light. Only seconds after Badger 1 Flight had been decimated in the unexpected attack, both area denial weapons pods simply disappeared in two expanding clouds of metallic dust. With the immediate threat neutralized, the
Reapers’
AIs executed a quick search of the immediate area for additional weapons pods. Finding none, they continued the routine business of operating the sophisticated fighters while awaiting additional orders from their still stunned Human pilots.

Seconds later, recovering somewhat from the initial shock of the attack, Captain Zhukov ordered another quick sweep of the area for additional survivors. Then, with his remaining fighters’ active sensor suites still scanning for additional area denial weapons, he and the other five fully operational fighters began the slow process of escorting the damaged members of their decimated flight out of the immediate area.

Chapter 7

TFS Theseus, Location Dagger

(3.3 light years from Earth)

“Missile launch!” Lau reported once again from Tactical 2. “Tracking one two eight friendly inbound missiles fired from Badger 1 in antimissile mode.”

“Is there still time for Badger 1’s missiles to make the intercept?” Prescott asked.

“I believe so, sir, and apparently so does Charlie 4. They are shifting their fire to try and take out the friendlies. The original group of three-two anti-ship missiles from Bravo 1 is still two three seconds out.”

Without any sort of intervention required of its crew, the BD cruiser
Keturah
had made the determination that the most effective method of either destroying the Human vessel outright, or at least temporarily removing the threat to its own vulnerable stern, was ensuring that the
Baldev’s
salvo of anti-ship missiles successfully reached its target. Accordingly, all of the warship’s aft beam emitters shifted their fire in a last ditch attempt to destroy the Human missiles during their final seconds of flight before they in turn intercepted the
Baldev’s
missiles. Performing precisely the task for which she had been designed, the cruiser’s fire control AI advanced rapidly through the enormously complicated calculations required to identify, target, and destroy one hundred and twenty-eight unimaginably fast targets — continually refining its firing solution even as the first bolts fired from its aft energy weapons banks were already streaming downrange at the speed of light. At such short range, the
Keturah’s
beam emitters had little difficulty slicing through the Human HB-7c missiles — the destruction of each making it ever more likely that at least some of the
Baldev’s
missiles would reach the
Theseus.
In the very short amount of time she had been provided, the BD cruiser managed to significantly improve her own situation by significantly complicating that of her enemy. Out of the one hundred and twenty-eight missiles fired by Badger 1 Flight, only forty-two survived the
Keturah’s
energy weapons barrage. Unfortunately for the
Theseus
, a significant percentage of the remaining friendly missiles scored double and triple hits against inbound anti-ship missiles — ultimately allowing twelve of them to continue on course.

“Multiple successful intercepts, sir, stand by … one two anti-ship missiles still inbound. One eight seconds to —”

“Point location target acquired and locked,” Schmidt interrupted hurriedly. “Firing!”

Just as it had during the previous attack on the
Baldev’s
drive section,
Theseus’
AI selected a single location on Charlie 4’s stern where a lack of uniformity in field strength at the junction between emitter streams offered a slight advantage. Once again, the AI timed the impact of a full spread of five plasma torpedoes to precisely correspond with a maximum power discharge from all beam weapons currently bearing on the target. This time, however, the AI also sent a combination of kinetic energy penetrator and fragmentation rounds streaming from nine of the destroyer’s railgun turrets to precisely the same location on the enemy ship’s stern — directly over the
Keturah’s
huge number four engine nozzle.

Cascading waves of energy coursed outward from the BD cruiser’s drive section, traveling along the entire length of the hull as her shield systems struggled to cope with the massive quantities of energy being concentrated against one small area of her stern. The
Keturah’s
entire shield flickered momentarily — just long enough to allow the relentless streams of railgun and energy weapons fire to inflict significant damage to the targeted area — then appeared to recover to some extent. At the site of the number four engine nozzle, however, even this brief interruption in shield continuity resulted in the immediate destruction of four shield emitters, causing what amounted to a catastrophic, albeit localized, shield failure.

This was precisely the opportunity for which
Theseus’
ever-watchful AI had been waiting.

Shifting her fire slightly to exploit the new vulnerability,
Theseus’
energy weapons and railguns slammed directly into the unshielded sublight engine nozzle, instantly tearing the relatively delicate structure to pieces. Just as Lieutenant Lau had hoped, the addition of fragmentation rounds from the railgun turrets had the added effect of dispersing the damage across an even larger area of the cruiser’s stern. Ultimately, however, it was Lieutenant Commander Schmidt who delivered the coup de grâce. In preparing for their attack run, he had instructed
Theseus’
AI to fire a second volley of plasma torpedoes as quickly as the weapons could be recharged. With Ensign Fisher aggressively maintaining the destroyer’s position astern of the
Keturah
, five compressed bolts of plasma once again slammed into the now unshielded portion of her drive section, fusing most of the area into a brightly glowing mass of molten metals. Just a few short seconds after
Theseus
had opened fire, six of the cruiser’s eight sublight engines had been completely destroyed. Shortly thereafter, the brilliant blue glow issuing from her remaining two engines decreased sharply, then disappeared altogether.

Seconds later and hidden from
Theseus’
view, massive, forward-facing doors mounted amidships on both sides of
Keturah’s
hull slid quickly into recessed cavities to reveal a single sublight engine nozzle even larger than her eight main engines mounted astern. Without further delay, both engines blazed into life at their maximum rated thrust.

“Inbound missiles have cleared our point defense barrier,” Lieutenant Lee announced. “Three more destroyed! Time to impact on the remaining nine, one three seconds. Sea-whiz is firing.”

At fifteen locations along
Theseus’
stern, a combination of mini railgun and energy turrets began filling the relatively small space between the destroyer and the rapidly approaching missiles with a lethal curtain of kinetic energy rounds and bolts of focused energy.

With so much activity taking place at one time on his bridge, Prescott’s ability to divide his attention between every urgent demand was strained to the point of distraction. Faced with such an unreasonable burden, the Human mind tends to fixate on a single subject, and in this case, the incoming anti-ship missiles topped Prescott’s mental priority list. Many years earlier, a young Ensign Prescott had been warned repeatedly of this understandable, but potentially deadly tendency — traditionally referred to as “boresighting” by combat pilots. Now, perhaps only a second or two off his normal mental pace, Captain Prescott’s mind became fully aware of a new and potentially disastrous threat.

“Fisher, you’re too close!” he yelled. “Down, down, down! Mark three one five
NOW!
”

During his efforts to match the BD cruiser’s movements, Ensign Fisher had been “hand flying” the ship. In this configuration,
Theseus’
AI, while never completely relinquishing control to its helmsman, took slightly longer to augment Human control inputs or, when necessary, to override potentially dangerous commands. With the destroyer operating in such close proximity to its target, the loss of the
Keturah’s
main engines, followed immediately by her application of full reverse thrust, created a situation that was not anticipated — either by
Theseus’
young helmsman or her AI.

“Holy
shit
!” Fisher swore as he instantly reacted to force his ship’s bow below the
Keturah’s
heavily damaged drive section.

“Seven more missiles destroyed!” Lieutenant Lee shouted. “Two remaining —”

“All hands brace for contact!” Prescott interrupted — immediately repeated by the AI throughout the ship.

Nimble though she was for a warship of nearly five hundred thousand metric tons,
Theseus’
Cannae thrusters pushed her massive bulk downward at an agonizingly slow pace as the ship closed the remaining distance to the rapidly decelerating
Keturah
. Once the gap between the two warships had narrowed to only fourteen hundred meters, the destroyer’s gravitic shields began interacting with the hull of the cruiser in exactly the same manner that it normally handled incoming kinetic energy rounds or missiles. While incapable of preventing a collision between the two vessels, the field strength at the point of closest approach quickly increased until reaching the maximum power handling capabilities of the system’s gravitic emitters. As
Theseus’
AI violently shifted the grav fields to induce destructive shear forces all along the
Keturah’s
hull, the most significant result was the utter destruction of nearly all devices protruding above the surface — most notably shield and beam emitter emplacements — immediately collapsing what remained of the cruiser’s aft shields. When physical contact finally did occur between the two ships, the impact itself was brief but still quite violent. The top of
Theseus’
hull just forward of amidships struck a glancing blow against the outermost ventral surface of the
Keturah’s
drive section, crushing the cruiser’s two remaining sublight engine nozzles. Surprisingly, other than carving an impressively long but somewhat superficial gouge out of her dorsal surface’s armor plating, the destroyer managed to escape the encounter with no additional damage.

Just as the two ships began to ease slowly apart, the two remaining anti-ship missiles fired by the
Baldev
reached the point where they began interacting with
Theseus’
aft gravitic shields. The body of the first missile was instantly distorted beyond recognition, resulting in a violent explosion of the weapon’s propellant and oxidizer mixture so energetic that its warhead never received an instruction to detonate from the onboard processor. The second and final missile approached
Theseus’
stern with a slightly upward trajectory relative to the ship’s longitudinal axis. As was the AI’s preference, gravitic distortions were placed along the missile’s flight path such that its trajectory was altered ever so slightly upward. Unable to react quickly enough to the unintended change of direction, the missile’s warhead was ordered to detonate in a last ditch attempt to inflict as much damage as possible to its target. Faithfully executing its final instruction, the warhead exploded in a massive nuclear fireball … twenty-three milliseconds after penetrating the
Keturah’s
drive section.

“Nuclear detonation close aboard, Captain!” Lieutenant Lau reported. “They hit Charlie 4! No additional inbound ordinance at this time.”

“Helm, get us away from that ship!” Prescott ordered. “Her reactors could go at any moment.”

“Aye, Captain,” Fisher replied, still generally amazed that they were still alive.

Designed to focus its powerful shaped charge of nuclear fire in a relatively small area, the anti-ship missile’s explosive power was insufficient to destroy a ship as large as the BD cruiser outright. Instead, the detonation occurred just as the warhead entered the ship’s engineering section, gutting the most critical of the warship’s internal spaces while exposing much of the rest to lethal radiation levels. The
Keturah’s
massive, forward-facing sublight engines immediately ceased operation, as did all of her key systems with the exception of emergency life support in the areas not already exposed to the hard vacuum of space.

SCS Gunov, Location Crossbow

(5.93x10
11
km from Location Dagger)

Although Commodore Sarafi’s Resistance forces had been under standing orders to execute regular changes in speed and direction in an effort to avoid a “Before Light Arrival” attack from the Guardian spacecraft, the tactic proved completely ineffective against the Terrans and their hyperdrive-equipped missiles. Ironically, it had been Commodore Sarafi who provided the time needed for the Human warship, TFS
Karna
, to survey his entire assembly area with her passive sensor suite — supplying her powerful AI with all the data it needed to predict the locations of every Resistance vessel to within a few centimeters at the time of the attack. Sarafi’s order for evasive action, while faithfully executed, was far too late to save the bulk of his task force.

In a spectacle that eclipsed even the most ambitious science fiction movies ever produced by Hollywood, two hundred and fifty-nine HB-7c missiles transitioned from hyperspace inside the shields protecting their targets’ vulnerable drive sections — each one traveling at precisely the same speed as before its initial transition. An infinitesimal period of time later, all two hundred and fifty-nine — over ninety-five percent of the anti-ship missiles launched by the Human destroyers — found their marks. Most of the weapons simply exploded on impact, completely destroying all eight of the huge thrust chambers making up the externally visible portion of the cruisers’ sublight engines and wreaking catastrophic damage to their power generation and engineering spaces. It was the remaining one-third of the missiles, however, that caused by far the greatest damage. The warheads themselves were designed to act much like the kinetic energy penetrator rounds fired by Human railgun turrets. Their shape, composition, and tremendous speed now worked in concert to punch directly through to their targets’ “soft” internal spaces before detonating their compact antimatter warheads. In all but three cases, the series of internal explosions within what were essentially enormous pressure vessels resulted in complete structural failure — often accompanied by the spectacular visual effect of blast fronts passing through the warship’s hull to exit on the opposing side. The most dramatic effects, however, occurred in those ships whose emergency containment systems failed to prevent the large quantities of antimatter housed within their reactors from coming into contact with regular matter. Within the hearts of each of these warships, large-scale atomic-level annihilation events created spectacular flashes of light in the visible spectrum as the once-powerful vessels were blown apart from the inside at relativistic speeds.