A Show of Force (19 page)

Senior Commander Levinar stepped onto the deck of the command and control center to begin his shift as commander of the watch. As usual, a mug of spiced Mavaran tea was waiting for him at his station on the central command platform. He took his seat and picked up his mug, sipping carefully as he slowly rotated in his chair. One step below him was a ring of senior controllers, each of them monitoring the various departments of the massive battle platform. Walking behind them and peering over their shoulders, were his two primary control officers, whose duty it was to pass information onto him, and then give the appropriate instructions to the various senior controllers based on his orders. It was a convoluted process, but a necessary one, considering the size and complexity of the Ton-Wanori.

On the level below, beyond the ring of senior controllers that surrounded him, was the main floor. Also organized in a circular fashion, it was filled with dozens of secondary controllers and technicians who were tasked with the monitoring and operations of the thousands of systems that made up the platform. It was just as the platform’s commander, Admiral Dugnaro, had always insisted. ‘A battle platform is more city than warship. It is just a well-armed city… one that can be relocated when necessary.’ It was because of this that the senior commander had applied for transfer on more than one occasion. He longed for more conventional duty, aboard true ships of war, not mobile spaceports. Unfortunately, transfer was difficult to obtain. Officer positions within the fleet rarely opened up, due to the fact that actual armed conflict was rare. The Jung had nearly completed conquering the entire sector, meaning there were very few adversaries remaining. If the senior commander wanted a command of his own, he needed to see actual combat. That meant a transfer to one of the ships heading out beyond such stations as Tanna, Ulysses, or Warank. The only combat anticipated within the core was in the Sol system, and by now, he expected that it too was completely conquered by the Jung.

Senior Commander Levinar sipped his tea again as he contemplated another boring shift of routine problems and solutions, as well as a few battle drills thrown in to meet minimum ongoing training requirements. Such was his life, and at times he felt guilty for complaining. Within a few years, he would be able to establish a residence on Pylius, and his wife and children would be able to join him. Such luxuries would not be available on a ship in the frontier.

Still, he couldn’t help but dream…

A rumble of words, urgent in their tone, washed up from the lower levels, interrupting the senior commander’s train of thought. He looked at his primary control officers, who seemed tense. He glanced up at the major systems status displays on the ring of view screens around him, noticing that the platform was automatically raising its shields and coming to alert status. “Report!” he barked, unwilling to wait the few seconds that it took for the senior controller to assess the situation and pass it up the chain of command.

“Sir! The Jar-Alatt…” The senior controller turned to look at his commander, just as one of the overhead view screens changed to show the ship in question. The senior commander’s mouth fell open at the sight of the battleship. It was engulfed in a massive collection of secondary explosions from within its hull. Debris was hurtling outward from its underside. The ship was destroyed.

Alarms filled the control center as the ship came to alert status, the call having been appropriately made by one of the controllers on the main floor below.

“…She has been destroyed,” the senior controller finished in disbelief.

“By whom?” the senior commander demanded to know. Another glance about the overhead view screens told him that the platform was indeed coming alive in preparation for battle. Shield status screens were changing from red to green as their shields began to charge. Weapons status screens flickered to life as gun crews and automated defenses powered up and became ready for action.

“Unknown,” the senior controller replied. “We have no contacts in the… Wait!”

Senior Commander looked up at the central overhead view screen, the one that had revealed the fate of the Jar-Alatt only seconds ago. Now it displayed one of the Pylius fleet’s cruisers, the Ontareen. It was turning hard as at least a half dozen red-orange balls of energy slammed into its starboard side, tearing it apart. Another ship, one that he did not recognize, passed quickly from left to right in the foreground. “What was that? A ship? Tracking!”

The view screen to the right switched images, revealing the aft end of the unknown ship as it flew past the doomed cruiser. Before he could get a good look at the enemy vessel, it disappeared in a flash of blue-white light. “What the…”

The command platform shook violently, knocking the standing senior commander off his feet.

“Impact!” the other senior controller exclaimed. “Number four arm!”

“We’re losing the arm!” the first senior controller added.

Senior Commander Levinar struggled to get back on his feet, as the entire platform was rocked by a series of secondary explosions. Several view screens fell from the overhead ring, smashing into both controllers and consoles. The shaking sent one of his senior controllers tumbling over the rail, falling to the deck below. Alarms filled the air, drowning out the voices of his men as they tried in vain to understand and report the events… to make sense out of the sudden and complete chaos that threatened to overwhelm them. Sparks flew in all directions, and the smoke began to billow up from below.

As Senior Commander Levinar tried to return to his command chair, the platform again shook, this time sliding sharply to one side, moving out from under the senior commander’s feet. He felt a sharp pain in his back as he slammed into the railing behind him. He toppled over the railing, but instead of falling to the deck below, he suddenly felt himself floating, tumbling head over feet, the sound of tearing metal and exploding electronics filling his ears. As he tumbled, he caught sight of an overhead bulkhead tearing away. Then another impact. His head. His vision blackened, and just before he lost consciousness, he felt a tremendous wave of heat engulf him.

The cockpit shook as it sped away from the Ton-Wanori.

“
We’re not going to make it!
” the voice of a fellow pilot cried out over the fighter’s communications system.

“Maintain full power!” the pilot ordered the others in his squadron as they attempted to outrun the spreading wave of burning gases, debris and radiation. That wave had been their home only moments ago, and now it was chasing them across space, trying to kill them.

“
I’m hit…
” another voice cried out as its transmission was cut short.

The pilot remained pushed back in his seat as his fighter continued to accelerate straight toward the planet Pylius below. He dared not turn away for fear that any change in course would allow the spreading wave to catch him and tear his tiny ship apart. Only a minute ago, he and his men had been responding to an action alert, expecting to jet off into space and engage whomever had been foolish enough to attack a Jung battle group. Now they were running for their lives.

A wall of burning gases threatened to engulf his ship from either side as it made a mad dash for safety. Large chunks of debris went flying past him, traveling at far greater velocities than he was able to achieve in such short order. He could feel his ship straining to accelerate. His systems danced about, flickering and offering wildly erratic readings as the radiation wreaked havoc with his ship’s electronics. All manner of thoughts ran through the pilot’s mind. An attack? A super-weapon of some sort? No, nothing like that could take out a battle platform. Not like this. It had to be a catastrophic failure of all of the platform’s antimatter reactors… if that was even possible.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the Jung fighter managed to get clear of the explosion. His flight instruments began to settle down and give him accurate readings. He was heading directly toward Pylius. “All ships, pull up!”

“
But the debris!
”

“Pull up!” the pilot repeated as he pitched up to avoid burning up in a straight-in interface with the planet’s atmosphere. His engines roared as he brought his ship level with the planet’s horizon. Fragments of the battle platform, both big and small, went streaking past him on either side, taking on an eerie orange glow as they dove into the thickening atmosphere below and eventually burned up altogether.

“How many got out?” the pilot queried over the communications systems. “Sound off!”

“
Two seven two!
” a voice replied.

“
One five eight!
” another chimed in.

“
One one zero.
”

“
Two two five.
”

“
Contacts!
” another voice interrupted. “
Two ships! Enemy fighters, I think! On my tail! Four kilometers out! They came out of no…
” The transmission suddenly went dead.

“Who was that?” the pilot asked.

“
I think it was Merrill in two four two!
” another voice replied. “
He was behind me a…
” The response also went dead.

“
I’ve got them too!
” another pilot announced. “
Position three five point… Wait! They’re gone! What the hell?
”

“This has got to be an attack of some sort!” the pilot declared. “All fighters join up on me at position three five point two seven five; alpha two one seven.”

“
Contacts!
” a voice the pilot recognized as the pilot of Two two five. “
Dead ahead, five kilometers. Position three seven point two two five; alpha two two zero!
”

The pilot pitched his ship further up and banked to his right. “
I’m turning in now!
” he announced. “
Anyone near me join up!
”

“
They’re fi…
” the pilot of two two five tried to report.

“Damn it!” the pilot yelled in frustration. “Who are these guys?”

“
They just appeared out of nowhere, in flashes of blue-white light!
” one of the other pilots reported.

Another pilot screamed in agony as his ship was torn apart.

The pilot finished his turn and looked about. He could see several explosions in the distance, as well as several flashes of blue-white light, but they were too far away. He wasn’t picking up any enemy contacts on his screen, but there was something else wrong. He also wasn’t picking up the Jar-Alatt, which should have been in orbit only a few hundred kilometers away.

His threat sensors suddenly lit up, warning him of two enemy contacts directly behind him. They too had come out of nowhere. One moment his screen had been clear, the next there had been two bandits directly behind him and closing fast.

The fighter shook violently as weapons fire tore through its hull. Warning lights began illuminating all over his console. Something exploded deep within his ship, far behind him, causing the ship to yaw to starboard in a sharp, jarring motion. His helmet slammed into the side of the canopy, his arms flailing. Another explosion; this time in his port wing as one of his propellant tanks ignited. He instinctively reached down with both hands, grabbing the ejection levers on either side of his seat and pulling them up sharply and in unison. Explosive charges went off all around his canopy, sending the bubble shooting up and back, away from the ship as it continued its slow, lateral spin. There was a deep rumble in his seat. Smoke and flames shot up all around him. He shot upward, out of the cockpit and into open space as the fighter broke apart. As he looked down upon his exploding fighter, two unfamiliar ships, like flying wings, passed under him at considerable speed, disappearing in flashes of blue-white light seconds later.

The boosters on his ejection seat burned for nearly a minute, its automated attitude thrusters steering him in a direction away from the planet in order to give him as much time as possible before the planet’s gravity claimed his life. Eventually, its limited propellant supply was consumed and it shut down, leaving him floating in orbit above Pylius. He was in a slow, rotation around the seat’s vertical axis. As he came around, he saw the remains of both the Ton-Wanori and the Jar-Alatt. He also saw more blue-white flashes of light, some small, some bigger, and one considerably larger still, as they entered the battle and then promptly departed. He could see more distant explosions over the planet, ones so large they had to be either frigate or even cruisers. The Jung fleet, his fleet, was being taken apart with ease. It seemed unfathomable. In fact, had he not witnessed it himself, he would not believe it possible.

Who are they?

General Larotte’s eyes danced from screen to screen as he assessed the tactical situation. Unknown attackers clad in flat black body armor were attacking his garrison from all sides. It was a hopeless cause, of that he was sure, as there was no way that fifty men, no matter how skilled, could penetrate his defenses.

What intrigued him was their tactics. The attackers were carefully positioned, staying behind cover as much as possible, only exposing themselves long enough to take shots at his men on the walls and in the towers. And each shot they took found its mark… perfectly. It was a losing tactic, as he had more than a thousand men within his walls. Were they trying to draw his men out into the open? Had they rigged some type of trap that would destroy his men by the hundreds once they stepped beyond the garrison’s walls? Thus far, not a single kill had been reported by his forces, yet he had lost only fifteen of his own men to the enemy.

“Have you had any luck raising the Ton-Wanori?” the general asked his communications officer.

“Negative, General. I have not been able to raise anyone. Not ships in orbit, not the air-defense towers, not the air base at Galinda.”

“Have our communications been taken out?”

“No, sir. I show all systems as operational. I can even verify the main towers at Faraday are still operating. No one is answering.”

The general turned his attention back to the view screens, as the meaningless exchange of weapons fire continued. “I’ve seen war games with greater losses than this!” he exclaimed.