“...It’s not the Rapture or the Mary Celeste. They left in a hurry, but they had some warning.” The Marine captain gestured around, and turned back to look at the camera. His visor reflected the camera, and the moon’s misty landscape. The gas giant it orbited was a dot at the top edge of his visor.
Valero, her staff, and Captain Patel sat in the conference room. Patel had his hand over his mouth in thought. Valero drummed her space pen against the table. The camera showed a shuttle pad for a small moon. Like the vast majority of colonies in known space, it was small but growing.
Or had been. The camera panned across the misty landscape– the moon had a small atmosphere– abandoned cargo, vehicles at odd angles, and hangars devoid of their craft.
Patel leaned forward and keyed the radio. “We can confirm that, Captain. Just like the rest?
The camera feed turned, showing the tanks and refueling apparatuses. “Not exactly, skipper. There’s signs of battle.” The camera swiveled around to show the fuel apparatus on the other side of the platform. White gas rose from broken hoses and shattered machinery, destroyed by grenades. Smoke curled in the distance from a fuel refinery. The camera followed the Marine officer off the landing pad. Bullet holes stitched up a blast barrier before the parking lot below the pad.
He went forward to where a private stood guard. Yellow markers stood out. He gestured, “Shell casings from an AK, but the rest of it is mostly improv.” That was typical of frontier folk. “Flechettes from improvised railguns, ball bearings and electrothermal guns, liquid propellant guns, and…” The camera turned to another blast barrier. It was scorched and melted. “Someone improvised a flamethrower here by the looks of it. And there’s a lot of blood on the ground.”
“So someone was warned. The others were all overwhelmed before they could set up defenses.” Kimball murmured.
“It’s the biggest colony they hit so far, so it makes sense. They had more early warning systems available.” Molson shook her head. “Do we have the forensics back, yet?”
“Negative. All we know is the bad guys were using some sort of caseless ammunition. Real fancy shit.” The Marine officer continued through the base. He showed collapsed buildings and pre-fab warehouses. Empty pre-fab warehouses. “It looks like locusts went through here! The storehouse is gone, the fuel depots are empty, the crops in the greenhouses are gone! It wasn't even harvest season! They took the tractors, all the equipment. They've been ripping panels out.”
Molson grimaced. “Fits pirates, I suppose.”
“But there's something else. The records have been erased.”
“What's so weird about that?” Logan asked.
“It's everything. And… they burned the library.” He gestured, and the camera showed a destroyed domed building. “That is a little weird for pirates. They also smashed the monument for the first landing.”
Valero frowned. “Huh. Now that’s interesting.” She looked at her staff. “Anyone got any ideas?”
“Indonesian counter-imperialist terrorist group,” Logan said.
“They’ve been out of play for years.” Molson rolled her eyes.
“And they’d need a major supplier,” Fisher pointed out.
Valero leaned back in her seat. She considered her pen. “Let’s pack up. We need to follow them.” She gestured at one of the screens, making it blink to a star chart. “We’ve got a pattern, let’s follow it. They’re following a trade route. We need to get to McAuliffe colony before they do.”
~~
The UN fleet dropped out of FTL, dumping speed to enter the system’s sphere of influence properly. McAuliffe Colony was a small NAU colony, with a modest moon. Four cruisers of unknown make, twice the size of UN cruisers, were orbiting McAuliffe.
The UN fleet stood at general quarters. Admiral Valero stood in the flag bridge, or rather, had her boots velcroed to the seating platform near the flag plot table. Where charts, maps, and records once stood, and still did float, a holographic plotting screen now dominated. Valero’s communications and logistics staff were strapped into posts around the chamber, rotated to face inward, while her core group, like Kimball, Logan, and Molson, were also stuck to the platform. It was built to cushion them against sudden acceleration, allow the admiral access to everyone in the room, and allow everyone a visual of the main view screens.
The screens displayed their plot in the system, the elliptical shapes of their orbit bringing them closer to McAuliffe. Valero could see the dotted formation of Task Force 450, formed in a wall. The cruisers formed an ‘x’ shape, while the frigates had a square around them. Titan and Unity hung back, a few hundred thousand kilometers away, on the edge of McAuliffe’s sphere of influence, hovering near an eccentric asteroid beyond its moon.
“Long range scans, and satellite comms are picking up weapons fire. Big particle beams,” Captain Logan said.
“Mounted on a starship?” Kimball asked, and shook her head.
“Have we made contact with McAuliffe Ground Control yet?” Valero asked.
“Negative. Most of their satellite network was wiped out. From what we can tell, the enemy’s also been flinging kinetics at everything that takes a shot or squawks.”
“Take a shot? All they had was a squadron of old F-15s.” Valero rubbed the bridge of her nose. “And a few companies of marines…” She shook her head. “Hail those bastards. Tell them to back off.”
As they slowly approached the colony, the enemy ships ceased fire and made a burn towards them. The comms division’s words came through to the flag bridge.
"Attention unknown vessels. This is United Nations Task Force 450 operating under United Nations Security Council Resolution five-five-two. Cease fire and identify yourselves immediately.”
Commander Driscoll, the flag staff’s communicator, looked up from his console. “Admiral, we’re getting a visual transmission.”
“Well?” Valero snapped.
“It…” Driscoll grimaced, “Admiral, they don’t look like pirates.”
“Put it onscreen,” Kimball said.
One of the forward viewscreens snapped onto a video feed. The flag staff went quiet. Valero squinted. It looked like a bear crossed with a tarantula.
"This is ship leader Nivok of the Rynoc Collective. Surrender immediately Task Force 450, or be destroyed.”
“Are we sure that's not a fake?” Valero growled.
“Positive,” Molson said, looking over her displays. “The signal is strong. We're not getting anything fuzzy.”
“Captain, please confirm.” Valero snarled. “We are talking to aliens.”
“Affirmative, Admiral.”
“They're speaking English,” Logan said. “They probably captured one of our ships.”
“Captain Kimball?” Valero turned her head, looking at her exec.
“Admiral?”
“Chip in,” Valero snapped.
“Ah–” The captain paused, “There's a few possibilities. One, they're Tellarties and respond negatively to everything as some sort of cultural display. Two, warrior races, who see this as some big challenge. Like animals fighting over a mate and trying to make themselves bigger. Three, this is a genuine invasion.”
“Four, we're intruding on their territory,” Molson pointed out.
“All I'm hearing is we need to go on the offensive.” Valero said, watching the screen. “Ma'am, they attacked our facilities and destroyed all our ships sent to investigate. If this is a threat display or not…” Kimball nodded to the screen. “We'd better open up before we lose the chance.”
Valero squinted at the display. She walked forward, her hands behind her back. “I need a reply. Hostile challenge, but within reason. Leave it open for room to negotiate, but don't bend over backwards.”
"Attention Rynoc ships. We cannot accept surrender. We do not wish to fight yet we will defend ourselves if necessary.”
Driscoll listened for a moment. “Admiral, the unknown vessel has a response.”
Nivok, the big tarantula-looking motherfucker, came on screen. “Challenger?” He asked. “Challenger. You are ordered to surrender immediately. Your ship will be destroyed.”
Valero grimaced. “We will not surrender. We will defend ourselves if necessary. We demand you cease fire and allow us to begin negotiations.”
"There will be no negotiations. There will be no pause. There will be no conditions! We will destroy you. We will stop you. We'll put you back in your place and make you stay in your lane!” He panted heavily, he was furious. “Challenger, I will make it my personal mission to ensure your ship is destroyed. You savages.”
“What is it about Challenger?” Kimball murmured.
“We will not surrender,” Valero said, “If you do not comply, we will engage with deadly force.”
"Very well.” The feed cut. “Vampire, vampire!” Logan called out. On the holo tank, missiles rose from the enemy ship.
Valero went to her controls. “Weapon release authorized. All ships into formation. Close with the enemy.”
Onscreen, the human force arrayed into a battle line, like old sailing ships in three dimensions. The cruisers went into line, while the frigates above and below them. The enemy cruisers just stacked on top of each other. Both sides charged diagonally towards each other. Two swarms of missiles shot towards one another. They took minutes to travel, and passed in seconds. Dozens collided, countering one another.
Scores of human missiles were wiped out, but dozens made it through. They hammered the enemy fleet. One of their ships shed bits of debris. Another took a hit and a huge scar went up its flank. They rearranged formation, protecting the wounded ones.
The enemy missiles passed through. Lasers fired on all wavelengths, stabbing through the chaff and debris with angry lines on the displays. Autocannons roared to life, shaking the hulls they were attached to. Valero could sense them, and see the yellow cones of debris and projectiles they emitted on her screens. Challenger’s autocannons had never been fired in anger.
The enemy missiles cut through. Ezhou and Dalian, the leading edge of the force, were hit. One crippled, the other shattered. Then Zunyi and Hessen blew apart.
Valero’s eyes flicked up. The cruiser Delhi took a dozen missiles. The hull ripped open. “Christ,” Kimball said dispassionately. She drummed her fingers on his chair.
Valero nodded. They were closing with the enemy. They'd rung their bells, and left a nasty scar on one of the enemy hulls, but hadn't knocked any out yet. And she'd lost a fifth of their force.
Vedetta died next. The dead hulk still on course with their fellows.
Missiles exploded all around the fleet, their lasers and autocannons fired in reply. “Interceptor capacity falling. They’re getting through,” Kimball murmured.
Another missile came screaming in. Proximity warnings. Gonzalez twisted around, fired their engines, and hurled themselves into the path of the projectile. The brave frigate bloomed like a deadly flower, showering space with tiny reflective debris.
The fleets crept closer. “Energy spike! They're firing!”
Huge jets of violent flame shot through space. Valero could see them onscreen. They hit the frigate just ahead of Challenger. It cut through the ship’s bow like a hot knife through butter, cleaving it apart. Valero's eyes flicked from the the flickering symbols on her displays to the external cameras. It was an egg coming across in the bright darkness. There were only two Russian ships left.
Another shot hit Nicholas, starboard of the Russians. Her engines went out and she was thrown spiraling into deep space.
“We’re in range!” Logan reported.
“Batteries released!” Captain Patel barked down in his command deck.
The human warships opened fire. The frigates with their pulse lasers and the cruisers with their continuous beams swept through space. They cut up a dozen missiles on the way and struck the enemy cruisers. The weapons splashed against the enemy’s hull.
Valero scowled. Vaporized plating washed away, but they weren’t doing much damage. Enemy weapons went out, some scanners probably. But it was like they'd just scratched them! Alien technology would of course be alien, yet there were so many universal constants. Gun turrets were gun turrets, and so were engines. But where did you target them? For all I know, there's a weak spot for massive damage I'm missing!
“Concentrate fire on the lead ship,” Valero snapped. At the same time, the cruiser Argo shuddered forward, took a hit on their port side, and exploded.
“They're focusing their fire on us,” Molson said, “They must know we're the command ship.” The ships moved their lasers. Their systems networked together and fixated on the lead enemy ship. More and more of the hull burned away. Suddenly, it fell out of formation. “We got one!” The cheers were cut off.
Thresher and Haida dove toward the ship, moving for the kill. But their missile banks were depleted. And even the wounded creature could still sting. It hit Haida nose on and crumpled her like a soda bottle jammed against a table. Thresher’s bow was blasted. It swept past the enemy, trying to get away. Her fusion reactor was hit and she exploded into a fireball.
Anson and Galerna were destroyed in the same instant. Galerna, in her final moments, hit her ventral thrusters and took a hit meant for Challenger.
Valero’s heart sank. The fleet had just been decimated in seconds. She was filled with shock, fear, and anger.
Then the cruiser Beijing took a hit. A particle beam cut across her flank, ripping up through the barrel of the ship. One of the turrets fragmented. Capacitor banks overloaded. The whole flank of the ship exploded in a shower of debris. It wasn’t supposed to do that! Valero thought in alarm. But they had never had serious space combat. Maybe that was some critical vulnerability they couldn’t fix. There must’ve been some flammables or something, maybe a cargo bay or fuel tank, or even hit something in the fusion reactor. She staggered sideways in space. It was like someone had taken a bite out of a soda can as it spewed chunks of matter and people.
Valero could imagine what was happening in the hull. There were chemical lines in the hull for various purposes, from controlling the lasers to fuel, and they could be extremely dangerous. Trapped in a coffin with busted fluorine lines… I’d prefer to eat a bullet.
“Tell the fleet to break away!” Valero barked. “Save what’s left of the fleet!” They had seven frigates and two cruisers left. Half the fleet was just gone.
They came about, burning away from the enemy. The cruisers approached, closer and closer. What kind of systems do they have? It looked like they could overtake them quickly.
They passed the moon, hoping to buy at least a few minutes of time. Missiles arced back and forth. But all the frigates were out of missiles, and the cruisers were running low too.
An enemy cruiser crested the horizon. It fired missiles and particle beams, just out of range. “Damn it all…” Valero hammered her armrest. Jinan exploded in the distance.
The Niteroi, a frigate, came about. Captain Abreu's face appeared on Valero's displays. “Niteroi Actual to Challenger Actual. Only one way to slow them down, Admiral.”
“Understood, captain. Good luck.” Valero looked impassively at their displays. Kimball looked at Valero in shock.
Captain Abreu cut the transmission. The frigate put their fusion rocket to full burn, accelerating towards the enemy cruiser. “Admiral!” Kimball exclaimed quietly.
Valero didn't look away from the screens. “Best speed. Let’s get out of here and warn Earth.”
The frigate accelerated. Their lasers spat fire into the night, the autocannons hammered away, hoping they could have some effect. The particle beams plunged into the hull, but at the angle, they couldn’t hit what had become the biggest threat. The engine.
The ship crashed into the cruiser. The whole thing blew into a cloud of smoke and debris.
Valero had an image of a space accident she’d seen, an old space capsule that hit a spaceplane.
“We've detected one life pod from Niteroi.”
“Understood. Steady as she goes,” Valero said.
Kimball watched their displays. “They're not pursuing. They're not badly damaged, they have two ships left… what's up with that?”
Valero leaned forward into her chair. “Two damaged for the loss of half the fleet. Bows and arrows against the lightning. I wonder if we've even seen the heat-ray yet.”
“Admiral?”
“Nothing.”