Chapter 13
First Admiral Spate’s shuttle approached the daunting structure of Capa Morna Space station. Its immense size filled the forward view-screen, its symmetrical structure forming the tri-planet insignia of the Coalition. Three giant globes towered the stations nerve centre and Director Quinn’ residence.
The shuttle closed to within two hundred kilometres. Admiral Spate had piloted the shuttle personally, not wanting anyone to know his final destination. He brought the shuttle to a full stop knowing he would soon be challenged by Capa Morna’ security force.
Two small slender fighters appeared on either side of the shuttle; their weapons aimed
directly at the Admiral’s shuttle.
“Network shuttle identify?” A voice called from the shuttle’s speakers.
“First Admiral Jerrico Spate.” Spate replied calmly.
After a few moments silence the fighters moved position, one in front of the shuttle, and one at the rear.
“Follow the fighter.” The voice said.
Spate complied; he already knew the drill.
They banked left and flew under the first of the giant silvery globes. Shortly after, as they neared Quinn’s residence tower, the fighters broke away allowing the shuttle access to the landing bay.
“We’ll take it from here Admiral!” The landing bay’s control announced.
The shuttle’s controls were immediately taken over and approach control guided him to a safe touchdown. Once the bay’s magnetic shield was back in place Spate left his seat and the aft hatch slipped to the deck with a loud hiss of escaping air.
He casually walked down the ramp as two figures approached. He recognized them both; one was the Nailian, Commissioner Shatrish, the other the overbearing form of Dalvos, Quinn’s life protector.
Dalvos, a seven-foot, half human half machine, walking killer of the long dead planet of Calmosse 4, one nod from his master and he would kill anyone Quinn wished. No one could reason with the Calmossian; he could not be brought; he would seek out his target until he completed his masters bidding. Only Quinn’s word could stop him; Quinn controlled him completely.
“First Admiral.” Shatrish greeted smiling.
Spate eyed Dalvos with suspicion and said.
“Why have you brought that thing with you?”
Shatrish glanced up at Dalvos; who was snarling at Spate.
“Why else but for your personal protection. Security is extremely high up here, and there are some people on this station who’d enjoy hearing of your sudden demise.
The Director has ordered Dalvos to ensure your continuing safety while on this establishment; something I personally wouldn’t have done!”
Spate knew Dalvos was not there for his protection; but to make sure nobody else was waiting on the shuttle. Dalvos was able to scan the shuttle’s interior using the built in scanners in his artificial eyes.
Once Dalvos had finished his rather clumsy scan, trying to hide his intentions from Spate, he moved next to the admiral.
“Shall we go? The Director is waiting.” Shatrish remarked as he turned.
Burrena military base was ablaze. Major Vadier’ recon group had caught the sentries unawares. Swiftly and silently they had dispatched them and opened Burrena’ mighty gates.
Bel-tel’ Rapid Assault Team had entered and moved quickly through the barracks using disabling gas to render their targets immovable then killing dispassionately, leaving none alive; they searched every room, every building hunting their quarry expertly. Finally, when the base was secure, Bel-tel arrived to find several Quat-tar civilians being held captive in one of the barracks.
“Get rid of them, we’ve no time for ferrying prisoners!” He ordered to one of his most loyal henchmen.
Within seconds Bel-tel’ order was carried out. The Quat-tar civilians were unceremoniously executed. Major Vadier protested at his actions. Bel-tel brushed the protests aside as if he had not heard.
The trooper standing next to Vadier suddenly clasped his chest, gurgled and dropped to the dirt. Bel-tel looked surprised; he had not even heard the crack of the laser.
From the far side of the barracks streams of laser fire erupted. A huge force of howling Quat-tar charged, screaming as they fired. Where they had come from nobody knew, or at that moment cared. The Rats dived for cover and returned fire.
The parade yard filled with smoke and flashing laser light. Picking targets was impossible; the ground became scorched, streams of steam billowed into the air.
Slowly the Rats stopped firing as the enemies fire subsided. As the air cleared they moved cautiously from their cover positions. To everyone’s amazement there were very few dead. A small clump of Quat-tar corpses lay huddled in one place, but there was no sign of the others; they had vanished just as suspiciously as they had appeared.
“VADIER!” Bel-tel shouted as he scrambled out from behind a hopper.
Vadier hurried to his side.
“Major you were supposed to secure this area; would you mind telling me as to where the hell they just came from?”
“I don’t know Sir.” Vadier replied.
“Then I suggest you damn well find out. Find them; they must’ve gone to ground somewhere. Flush them out, NOW.”
Major Vadier quickly acknowledged and rallied his team. Once again they set about searching the barracks, this time checking for hidden areas.
High above in orbit, Admiral Torre called a command level briefing; the Aries arrived on schedule, while the Cortez was still missing, presumed lost at Ormacronis.
Torre called the room to order and started.
“Gentlemen I have finally received word from Mi Hancy. As of this moment we control two thirds of Tormac-sol. General Bel-tel’ still engaged at Burrena and although has met with considerable resistance he assures me Burrena’ fighters will be destroyed by the time we conclude this briefing.
As yet there is no word from Pierce Force; however if Colonel Raga is on schedule he should’ve located the prison and advancing his mission.”
“And if he hasn’t?” Admiral Toove inquired.
“Then the prison will be prepared for his attack; and his goal will be made that more difficult. Whatever happens with Raga, it’s too late to abort now, we’re fully committed.” Captain Mittvn quickly answered.
Torre turned to Toove and asked.
“ The Ormacronis shipyards Admiral; they have been completely destroyed?”
Toove shifted in his seat, and cleared his dry throat with a cough before answering.
“Completely. Ormacronis won’t be supplying any more craft to the Quat-tar or anyone else. In fact I thought their defence was remarkably inadequate considering they manufactured fighting craft.
I was however pleasantly surprised at the failure of the Quat-tar fleet to come to their aid. Only one ship turned up, a Qtunga-class warship. We saw that it didn’t leave the system.”
“Excellent Admiral. Although the loss of the Cortez will be felt by all.” Torre stated.
“I am bothered by this absence of the Quat-tar fleet; if they are not here and failed to come to the Ormacrons aid, then they must be advancing on my home world. If you no longer require my ship then I will leave.” General Xel grumbled, slouching unhappily in his undersized seat.
“I will admit I’ve never heard of their entire fleet being committed to one attack before. Perhaps it would be prudent to pull back the task force to a safe distance until we can confirm their whereabouts!” Toove suggested.
Torre shook his head saying.
“No. We’re not pulling out now. General Xel you have my deep appreciation for your involvement. You are free to leave for Tanteee when you wish, and my hopes for the safety of your world go with you.”
At this point Torre was interrupted by the voice of Lieutenant Norret; her voice ejected from the internal speakers with some urgency.
“Admiral Torre to the war-bridge.”
Torre stood saying.
“Captain Canidili, the Wildstar is to join the ambulances as protection. Captain Vo, the Clemmence remains at our side along with the Aries. Gentlemen to your ships.”
Once on the war-bridge, Torre ordered.
“All weapons to full power; what’s up?”
“Several Quat-tar warships dropping from hyperspace!” Norret confirmed.
Torre took his seat. Captain Mittvn was already over at attack control.
“Launch all fighter wings.” Torre immediately ordered.
Mittvn was quick to comply. Fifteen squadrons ejected from the Phoenix’ flight bays and headed for the nearest Quat-tar ship.
“Blue leader to blue squadron. Keep it tight; concentrate on that heavy cruiser. Attack pattern zeta. Heads up!” The fighter leaders voice echoes from the speakers.
The small fast fighters flew straight into the enemies firing guns; dodging in and out of the heavy cruisers defence grid range, only just avoiding their lethal lances of death.
They strafed the cruisers hull with all the power they could. Its shielding remained intact, their efforts only igniting in tiny red explosions just short of the hull.
They flew closer, skimming the edge of her shields, concentrating everything on the ships defence array. The more powerful guns of the Quat-tar ships were making quick and easy work of the fighters. In their first two passes Blue squadron was reduced by two thirds. The other squadrons were not fairing any better.
“Admiral, message coming in from Secunda; its Doctor Zear. He urgently requests permission to start evacuating the wounded!” Norret reported then waited for the inevitable answer.
Torre glanced quickly over his shoulder at Norret and answered abruptly.
“Tell him he’ll have to fend for himself at the moment. Under no circumstances is he to begin the transfer!”
Mittvn swung round from his terminal and announced.
“All torpedo tubes armed and ready. Laser banks fully charged and operational.”
Torre gave him a nod indicating for him to fire at will.
Fourteen plasma torpedoes burst from the Phoenix, each one heading on a different vector. By now twelve Quat-tar ships had dropped from hyperspace and there could be many more waiting to do the same.
Space erupted in a vibrant mixture of phosphorescent colour and smoke as the torpedoes struck their targets. Two Quat-tar ships wavered and bucked, their shields glowing shortly then returning to normal.
Onboard the Rapacious, Admiral Keetor sent a fleet wide signal stating.
“No quarter, no prisoners. Destroy the Network ships and all aboard!”
He then contacted the battered Terris.
“Telparoon, the Terris is badly damaged from your failed engagement with the Tanteee. I now give you ed fed fed fed fed fed fed fed fonour as a Fleet Captain. Attack that Network Carrier; destroy it anyway you can but destroy it. Don’t fail me this time Telparoon!”
“I will not fail Admiral.” Telparoon snapped back quickly; he knew his fate if he did.
The Terris manoeuvred from its holding position at the edge of the battlefield and crept slowly past the otherwise engaged Wildstar. She altered her course several times to avoid the other Network craft. Only a small squadron of fighters swooped close enough to let off a few short bursts, and then were again off assaulting more urgent craft. She picked up speed as the Phoenix came into her sights.
Lieutenant Norret noticed the unusual evasion tactics of the Terris and stated.
“Admiral, one of the enemy has broken ranks and has come on a direct vector with us. She is gaining momentum!”
Torre was too engrossed at tactical, trying to co-ordinate their defences with the rest of his out-numbered force. He had not heard her warning.
“Fire another salvo, we’ve got to break their shields!” He shouted.
Norret raised her voice firmly and said.
“Sir an enemy ship is on collision course with us!”
This time Torre heard and whipped round saying.
“What? Where?”
Norret transferred her readings to the main view-screen. It filled with the bulk of the approaching Terris.
“EVASIVE! Port shields to maximum.” Torre ordered quickly.
As Captain Mittvn relayed the evasive manoeuvred to the helm, and seeing the closeness of the Terris, said pressingly but orderly.
“Standby for collision. Alert status Alpha!”
“Fire all port guns stop that ship!” Torre commanded clearly.
The Terris moved closer and closer, her guns opened up firing continuously, constantly pummelling the Phoenix’ shields. The Phoenix returned fire with all her portside hull cannons cutting long black gashes along the Terris’ unprotected hull, she had lost her shields to the Karna.
Suddenly the Phoenix was shunted sideways; a loud sound of metal on metal vibrated throughout the ship as the Terris ploughed into the Phoenix’s port side. She lurched violently, her interior lights flickered, emergency alarms screamed on every deck announcing the imminent danger of a space vacuum.
The Terris’ forward section penetrated and breached the Phoenix and exploded on impact. She hung awkwardly, a mass of flames in the ailing Phoenix’ side. The Network carrier swayed from side to side losing her stability.
Emergency repair crews rushed to the holed sections but were unable to gain access. The central computer shut down the Phoenix’s port side, containment fields failed. The computer activated the positive shields sealing the breached decks and all who remained there.
The burning heap that was once the Terris gradually slipped from the holed Phoenix and drifted out into space, all aboard were dead. Network engineers and technicians scrambled round the decks fixing broken circuits and vital equipment as best they could under the circumstances.
Finally Chief Malic managed to enable a confinement filed around the afflicted decks, and holding back the void of space managed to move his repair crews in. The many fires on the other decks were quickly brought under control and extinguished.
“Damage report Chief?” Mittvn called over the intercom.
He could hear the voices of several crewmen shouting over the background of hisses and creaks.
“Malic here. We’ve lost at least seven decks, and all personnel lost. I’ve erected primary shields to all breaches but can’t say how long they’ll hold. With this much damage, I urgently suggest we withdraw from the field!”
“That bad?” Mittvn said quietly.
“Yes sir.”
Torre looked round the war-bridge; all had heard the chief and waited with anticipation for Torre’ orders. Norret was the first to break the silence saying.
“Admiral I have Doctor Zear on visual.”
Torre’ shoulders slumped as he sighed and said.
“Put him on Lieutenant.”
The secondary view-screen flickered to life sheepishly; Mittvn had to channel more power to gain a clearer view. Doctor Zear finally appeared; he was busily tending to a wounded trooper, one that looked like many. The medical field centre, based on the outskirts of Tormac-sol looked as if it was in danger of collapse.
Long lines of covered corpses were laid out near Zear’ left. Wounded troopers lay, sat, or stood in every available space, waiting for treatment. Zear moved from his patient, covering the now dead trooper’s face and faced the view-screen. His tunic was covered in blood, his hair and face glistened with sweat, and his features were worn and haggard. He spoke with a grim urgency.
“Admiral we must begin evac. We can’t wait any longer. I haven’t enough facilities or equipment down here to deal with so many injured. We have to ferry them to the Phoenix now; if not they’ll die!”
Torre recognized the urgency of Zear’ request, but was unable to comply. He shook his head slowly.
“Sorry Zear we can’t help you. The Phoenix is severely damaged. I’m afraid you’re on your own until further notice.”
Zear’ face turned to a picture of hopelessness and dismay when he said.
“Admiral, these people are dying, I can’t do anything more for them. Please take at least one load, the fighters can protect them.”
“What’s left of our fighters is engaged in the fight to save these ships. I can only repeat, you’ll have to make do for now. Phoenix out!”
Torre motioned Norret to close the channel before Zear could reply. The view-screen turned to static then to black. Torre bent forward in his seat gazing at the deck in thought.
“Orders Sir?” Mittvn inquired coldly; nothing seemed to phase his professional composure.
Torre remained gazing at the deck as if in a trance.
“Orders Sir?” Mittvn repeated.
As if realizing the inevitable, Torre raised his head and softly said.
“Prepare to initiate withdrawal procedures. Best possible speed. Lieutenant Norret signal the force, Phoenix retreating; hold enemy as long as possible!”
Norret immediately sent the devastating signal.
“Ready to make minimal headway Admiral.” Mittvn announced.
Torre took a long deep breath and nodded. Mittvn hit the control. The powerful sub-light engines whined loudly and died out. He hit the control again, nothing happened. The helmsman checked his terminal and shrugged.
Mittvn rushed over to the main control panel and yanked it open. Inside all the cables and optics were fused together; their protective covering had melted away, the whole box was blackened and covered in ash.
“It’s burnt out, we’ve no engines!” He announced urgently.