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Authors: William J. Benning

First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun (25 page)

BOOK: First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun
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“Ready to fire again, sir,” the WATO announced.

With a brief nod, Chulling waited for the next salvo of high-yield pulsar-bolts to go streaking downrange to shatter more M-Cruisers. Once again, a short delay heralded the full force of the Alliance guns. Three more trios of M-Cruisers were destroyed in the red, fiery blooms that meant death for the Bardomil crews. It was a disappointing haul in the mind of Chulling, who angrily turned to the WATO.

“Anticipate them!” he yelled, “fire at where they’re going to be, not where they are!”

“Yes, sir,” the nervous WATO replied, now painfully aware of just how out-of-practice the Alliance gunners had become.

“Eagles approaching enemy formations, sir,” the chastened WATO called out.

“Cease fire on the turrets,” Chulling ordered and diverted his attention to the two pincers of Eagle fighters that were about to smash into the flanks of the M-Cruiser advance.

Holding his breath with anticipation, Chulling counted down the seconds until the first volleys from the low-yield rapid-firing pulsar-cannons tore into the undefended hulls of the approaching M-Cruisers. The wedge-shaped Eagle fighters with the high tail planes, for supreme manoeuvrability, hurtled forward into the attack. With their low-yield pulsar-cannons stuttering at the rate of five bolts per second, the swarms of Eagles very quickly began to tear chunks from the hulls of the slow and lumbering gull-winged M-Cruisers. However, Chulling knew that it would take several hits on an M-Cruiser to cause it serious damage. Once again, Chulling cursed the Alliance for not having a heavy weapon gunship like the Bardomil Flying Devil. The speedy and agile Eagles could sting and harry the M-Cruisers, but they needed greater firepower to do real damage to them.

The Eagle pilots, however, were taking to their task with relish. From both flanks, the Eagles scythed through the M-Cruiser formation, strafing across their hulls as they zipped past their opponents. With virtually no self-defence capability, the M-Cruisers could do very little except absorb the punishment that the Eagles were handing out. And, despite the Eagles’ lack of real firepower, Chulling noticed that two M-Cruisers were suffering severe damage. On one the vulnerable gull-wing was starting to fold up under the impacts from an Eagle’s pulsar-cannons. A second M-Cruiser was casting debris, flame and dead crew members out into space from the concerted attacks of three Eagles.

But, the joy of an unprotected enemy under their guns was to be short lived.

The great horde of Flying Devils and Harpoons was rapidly approaching their position. The Flight Controllers aboard the two Fleet Carriers and the Star-Cruisers began to issue instructions to extricate their charges from the combat zone. The Alliance left pincer was withdrawn first, the great right wing of the Bardomil fighter force looming large on the Scanner screens. The Eagle pilots on the left wing, took their chances at one last strafe on the M-Cruisers before opening the throttles fully and beating a retreat from the battle zone. The Eagles of the right wing, with a few more seconds’ grace, took their final shots at the vulnerable M-Cruisers before turning round and heading back to base.

On the War Table, Chulling watched as the right line of the Bardomil formation swung round to try to cut off the fleeing Eagles from the safety of their carrier ships. The Harpoons and Flying Devils failed, but did attempt a half-hearted pursuit before their Flight Controllers pulled them back. The Bardomil had learned that flying into the hundreds of self-defence turrets that mushroomed up on a Star-Cruiser was a one-way ticket to the graveyard.

With the Bardomil breaking off the pursuit of the Eagles, Chulling had bought the Alliance some breathing space. The Flying Devils and Harpoons would have to return to their stations, whilst the M-Cruiser cordon would have to wait for their reinforcements to bolster their ranks for the next assault. Over forty M-Cruisers had been eliminated. And, although the Eagle raid had achieved very little in terms of damage, it had disrupted the Bardomil advance. Both the Alliance and Bardomil forces had halted to draw breath whilst Chulling worked out his next move. It wouldn’t be long before the Bardomil would wish to continue their hostilities and Chulling needed a Plan B. His initial idea of conducting a ‘turkey-shoot’ was in ruins. This invasion force was going to need to be handled with finesse and guile rather than brute gunfire whilst standing behind the force-shielding.

In a straight pounding match, there was a very strong likelihood the Bardomil would win, so Chulling knew that he would have to use the advantage of home territory to weaken his opponent. He decided reluctantly that he was going to have to give ground and abandon his position on the frontier. Turning to the War Table, Chulling called up the three dimensional schematic of the Praxos system. Seven, barren, lifeless planetary bodies snapped into crystal clear view above the War Table. The first two outer planets, Sartek and Demlar, offered no strategic or tactical advantage. The third outer planet, Valnarim, however, was a large gas giant like Jupiter in the Terran system. And, with the realisation of Valnarim’s potential, Chulling began to formulate his plan.

“Are the Eagles recovered yet?” Chulling asked the WATO.

“Nearly, sir,” the WATO indicated that the last squadrons were circling their carrier ships ready to return to their hangers.

“Very well, once they’re back, instruct all vessels to rendezvous at Valnarim,” Chulling ordered, “Engineers status on Ticonderoga?”

“Ticonderoga has just completed critical damage repairs, sir,” the Engineering Officer confirmed.

“Does she have Trion Drive capability?” Chulling questioned.

“That’s an affirmative, sir,” the Engineering Officer said proudly.

The Engineers aboard the Ticonderoga had performed near miraculous feats of repair to bring her main power back to a functional level.

“Good,” Chulling responded, “get those Trion Drives warmed up and plot coordinates for Valnarim, standard dispersal protocol,” Chulling instructed.

The Trionic Web was a constantly fluctuating entity. The frequency at which Trions resonated in any fixed area was far from stable or static. Gravitational changes or radiation spikes could minutely alter the frequency of the Trions in that area. It had always been standard protocol for Alliance ships entering the Trionic Web to exit some one hundred thousand kilometres distant from each other to avoid disastrous collisions on emergence.

Aboard the Memphis, the energy hungry Trion Generators were drawing power from the proto-star reactors to create the Trion field around the vessel. The great loud whirring of the generators manufacturing the specifically-tuned Trion Field warned the crew that they were about to move almost twenty-five million kilometres in the time it took a person to blink.

“The New Thexxia and the Leonidas have entered the Trionic Web, sir,” the Scanner Officer reported that the two Fleet Carriers had moved on to the next location.

On the War Table image, two blinding flashes indicated the departure of the two Carriers.

“Caractacus, Clemenceau, Valiant and Icarus are leaving, sir,” the Scanner Officer continued as four more bright flashes showed the continuing Alliance retreat.

“Sir!” another Scanner Technician called out, “enemy approaching again!”

Chulling cursed softly under his breath as twelve M-cruisers broke out of the cordon that they had been holding. The Bardomil commander, Grattus Darrien, had seen the first of the Alliance vessels moving out into the Trionic Web and had flung his only fully operational M-Cruisers at the fleeing Star-Cruisers.

“They’re opening fire!” the Scanner Technician warned.

On the War Table image, four trios of M-Cruisers fired at the Alliance position with one laser bolt striking the Memphis; which shuddered violently under the impact. The other three bolts struck the Ticonderoga.

“Ticonderoga’s hit, sir,” the Comms Technician called out, “main power lost and the proto-star containment chambers are failing, sir.”

“Get those people out!” Chulling barked, “Navigation, get us between her and the enemy!” he ordered urgently.

With the Memphis immediately beginning to execute a painfully slow turn to try to protect the badly damaged Star-Cruiser, the Ship’s Commander on the Ticonderoga ordered an immediate ‘abandon ship’. The crew members on Ticonderoga dashed to their emergency stations as the Ship’s Commander took over the Navigation Console in his Command Cabin. With every last ounce of reserve power he pushed his doomed ship away from the rest of the Alliance formation and tried to build up some distance.

“Get them out!” Chulling urged the crew of the Ticonderoga to abandon the stricken warship.

But as Chulling willed the two thousand souls aboard the Ticonderoga into their Escape Capsules, the force-shielding around the Containment Vessels for the proto-star matter, finally failed. The proto-star matter, liberated from the confines of the ship, burst free, in a massive cataclysmic explosion that vapourised the Ticonderoga and everyone aboard her. The flash from the liberated proto-star matter was so brilliant that the entire War Room of the Memphis was dazzled. Even General Grattus Darrien, on his flagship, had to shield his eyes from the colossal explosion.

The remaining Star-Cruisers were buffeted by the blast, but had survived because of the Ticonderoga’s Ship’s Commander’s heroism. With his last breaths he had managed to push the doomed vessel far enough away to save the remaining Star-Cruisers. When the blast wave had passed the Memphis, Chulling looked sadly at his War Table image and saw that a new star had been born on the very edge of the Praxos system.

In the years to come, this new celestial body would be called…Ticonderoga.

Chapter 31

 

The Terran System

 

“Sir!” the alarmed Flight Surgeon announced “Spearhead One is down!”

“What!?” Marrhus Lokkrien shouted; the news that he dreaded the most finally manifesting to a horrifying, blood-chilling reality.

But, with that news, Lokkrien knew that he had to take charge of the situation and that billions of lives were now in his hands. He had to set his emotions aside and act quickly to avert disaster.

“Over-ride control commands on Spearhead One!” Lokkrien rapidly snapped out the orders, “full power to the force-shielding, everything we’ve got to all sectors,” he barked, “every ounce of power we have…is Billy still alive?!”

“Sir,” the Senior Engineer shouted, “we can’t hold this configuration for long!”

“We won’t have to, it’s nearly over!...Flight Surgeon!?” Lokkrien called out his reply over the shuddering and clamour of the War Room.

“Spearhead One is still alive, sir!” the Fight Surgeon confirmed, “but, his vital signs are weak, we have to get him out of there!”

“Engineers can we teleport him out!?” Lokkrien shouted as the Aquarius shuddered once more under the impact.

“Negative, sir!” the Senior Engineer replied, “There’s just too much radiation, and we can’t get through the force-shielding on the vessel!”

Silently, Lokkrien cursed. He knew that he couldn’t teleport Billy Caudwell to safety, and he had to leave the Black Rose in-situ to hold the protective umbrella in place. For the moment, Billy would just have to hang on in there and ride out this particular storm until he could be retrieved. The horrible churning sensation in the pit of his stomach did nothing to make the decision any easier for Lokkrien. They all just had to hunker down and hope and pray that they could weather the super-heated tempest that was being thrown at them.

“We’re at full power to the force-shielding!” the Senior Engineer reported.

“Have you put Aquarius into the grid!?” Lokkrien challenged.

“Yes, sir!” the Senior Engineer responded, “we’ve thrown in everything, there’s nothing in reserve!”

As soon as the Senior Engineer spoke, the buffeting on the umbrella intensified. Whereas Billy had carefully directed the power to the sectors of the force-shielding to deflect the super-heated material away, Lokkrien now had no such control. He could only push full power over the whole of the force-shielding. The violent jolts and tremors of the final waves of plasma striking the force-shielding would now be transferred to all of the vessels in the umbrella. The enormous Star-Destroyers were going to be particularly vulnerable to these hugely magnified shock waves, and Lokkrien quietly prayed that their colossal structures could stand up to the beating. With the plasma waves crashing into the fully powered force-shielding, the concussions began to batter the vessels as they gallantly held their positions in the face of such a fearful enemy.

Inside the War Room of the Aquarius, Lokkrien felt like he was in a tin can that was being pulverised by heavy hammers. Every concussion seemed to be echo around the great cavernous battle centre. The shuddering also seemed to intensify. Yet, the War Room staff all stayed doggedly at their posts. With grim professionalism, they held their stations, monitored their consoles, passed on their vital information and prayed that they would survive this terrifying maelstrom.

Looking round the War Room, for the first time, Lokkrien started to feel fear. For a moment, there was an air of unreality as he watched the Officers and Technicians trying to go about their duties. In those moments, everything seemed to slow down for Lokkrien. Small details suddenly sprang into focus. One female Technician, sitting at her console, was wearing a glittering necklace. An Officer was resting is hand on a colleagues shoulder trying to keep him calm and give him encouragement. Little details, that he normally wouldn’t have noticed, now seemed important to Lokkrien.

However, the reality of the situation quickly imposed itself upon Lokkrien. Time, once again sped up as one of the front row consoles, no longer able to stand the buffeting and shaking, finally gave up and exploded in a great cascade of sparks and flame. The Officer seated at the stricken console caught the full impact of the explosion and was flung backwards from her seat onto the hard metal floor. Before she had even hit the floor, the fire suppressant gas burst upwards from beneath the console to stifle any flames or power surges as the safety protocol shut the malfunctioning station down. The Officer’s supervisor dashed over to the fallen operator and quickly assessed her for injuries. Down on the Hospital Decks, the already overstretched Medical Technicians would be receiving distress calls from the War Room.

BOOK: First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun
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