First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun (24 page)

“Open fire when they get in range and…” Chulling began to order the WATO turning away from the War Table.

“Enemy opening fire!” the same Scanner Technician yelled.

“Wha…?” Chulling started to yell in astonishment when it suddenly felt like the Memphis had run into a very powerful force shield.

Flung off his feet, Chulling was hurtled backwards from the War Table against the grey painted wall.

“Get the shielding up! Get the shielding up!” Chulling yelled amidst the carnage in the War Room.

Around him, people were being flung from their posts as consoles fizzled and sparked amongst billowing acrid smoke as the alarms blared.

“Return fire, WATO!” Chulling ordered, cursing himself for his complacency.

Whatever had happened, Chulling realised that the Bardomil had developed some kind of new weapon. The enemy had been quite active in the year since First Admiral Caudwell had humbled an entire Bardomil Imperial Fleet with two Star-Cruisers. And, now Chulling’s formation was going to pay the price for it.

“Returning fire!” the WATO yelled.

Clambering back to his feet, Chulling stared hard at the three vessel formations that approached his position.

“Force-shielding initiated!” an Engineering Officer called out as the War Room personnel began to recover their wits and take their stations once more.

“Maximum intensity!” Chulling ordered, “damage!?” he demanded.

“Two of our high-yield turrets have been destroyed, sir, a third is damaged and out of action!” the Engineering Officer replied.

“Casualties!?” Chulling demanded as the anger and outrage swept over him.

He knew he had been complacent. It was the deadliest sin of a battlefield commander and he cursed himself for underestimating his enemy’s capabilities. But, he also knew that the time for recriminations would be later. He had to hold his position until First Admiral Caudwell could bring reinforcements.

“We have eighty-six dead, sir,” the Flight Surgeon Technician said darkly, “with one hundred and ninety wounded reported so far.”

For a moment, Chulling stood in stunned silence as the figures challenged his consciousness. The loss of nearly three hundred from a complement of two thousand was a big blow, especially when the ship was supposed to have the most advanced force-shielding capability in the universe.

The War Room also stood silent for a moment as the severity of the blow sank in.

“Sir, the flotilla is also reporting damage and casualties!” a Comms Officer reported.

“Serious?” Chulling dragged himself back to the dangerous situation he knew he now faced.

“Marlborough, Ticonderoga and Devastator reporting loss of main power, Perilous and Agamemnon report weapons control systems inoperative,” the Engineering Officer added to the already disastrous news.

The Bardomil first strike had been utterly devastating. Almost all of the Alliance ships had been hit, with significant damage inflicted upon more than half. It had been a bad mistake by Chulling assuming that the Bardomil were out of range of his ships. Now, nearly three thousand people had been killed with three times as many wounded swamping the Hospital Decks.

“Tell the other ships to give them cover under their force-shielding,” Chulling ordered, knowing that he had no alternative other than to weaken the force-shielding of his other ships to protect his lame ducks.

“Sir,” the WATO brought yet more bad news, “we’ve lost nearly a third of our high-yield guns,” he reported, “they targeted our turrets.”

Chulling closed his eyes and sighed for a moment. Then, he steeled himself to take charge of this unfolding disaster.

“Keep what we’ve still got, firing, WATO, and launch half of our Eagles,” he ordered.

With a nod, the WATO went to his duty.

Chulling knew that he needed to launch his single-seat fighters to keep the M-Cruisers, with their devastating new weapons, away from his formation. Looking at the War Table image, he could see the Bardomil Harpoons and Flying Devils forming up into their Big Wing formations for just that eventuality. The Bardomil Big Wing was their classical ‘V’ shaped flying wedge with a heavily reinforced right wing. When the formations engaged the weight of numbers on the right flank would simply sweep round and encircle the enemy’s formation.

“Very good,” Chulling cursed his opposite number at the realisation of the Bardomil commander’s tactics.

Someone in the Bardomil force knew what he or she was doing. This neatly set trap would force the Alliance Eagles to challenge the M-Cruisers allowing the Flying Devils and Harpoons to isolate them from their Carrier ships. And, Chulling knew that he might have no alternative other than to sacrifice all or most of his Eagles to buy time to repair his own damage and for First Admiral Caudwell to bring reinforcements. Hold at all costs, the First Admiral had said and Chulling knew that there would be some hard fighting to be done before help could arrive.

However, Chulling was unaware that this current disaster could have been much worse. The Bardomil commander, Grattus Darrien, had targeted the Alliance weapons systems unaware that the Star-Cruisers were unshielded. Had he known that, the Bardomil weapons would have been targeted at engines and power plants with fatal consequences for the Alliance.

“Eagles launching!” the WATO intoned as Chulling watched the small fighter craft emerge from the launching bays of his own flotilla.

Still watching the images of the ragged chain of advancing M-Cruisers, Chulling saw the faint yellow streaks of high-yield pulsar-bolts smash into several of the Bardomil craft. Each hit was fatal, reducing the gull-winged spacecraft to debris in a cataclysm of red roaring devastation. The Alliance formation was, at least, hitting back, Chulling comforted himself, but noticed that only eighteen of the one hundred M-Cruisers had fallen to the Alliance’s guns. The Alliance high-yield pulsar-cannons required a full fifteen seconds to cool down before they could be fired again.

As the pulsar-cannons cooled, the Bardomil M-Cruisers continued their advance. Watching the War Table image, Chulling noticed the M-Cruisers were once again forming into their three vessel formations.

With the three components of the formation flying perilously close to each other, the tell-tale tiny yellow streams of laser fire seemed to meet, cross and combine as the M-Cruisers fired simultaneously. Then, having fired their weapons, the three craft split up and resumed their independent advances upon the Alliance positions.

“So, that’s how they’re doing it,” Chulling said to himself reluctantly having to admire the sheer simplicity of the solutions that the Bardomil had discovered to the problem of penetrating the Alliance’s force-shielding.

It was a very easy process to treble the capacity of their existing laser weapons through some simple mechanism and re-focus the reinforced beams towards their targets. Having lost the advantage of force-shielding, the Alliance vessels were now vulnerable to the weight of numbers that the Bardomil possessed. But, in this new innovative tactic, Chulling immediately spotted a weakness.

“WATO?” he beckoned the Weapons and Tactical Officer over to the War Table just as another Bardomil combined laser bolt struck the Memphis.

Inside the Alliance Star-Cruiser it felt as if someone had struck the hull with a massive sledge hammer. The concussion from the Bardomil weapon shook the force shielded Star-Cruiser heavily causing further damage to already weakened systems and structures. It gave Chulling no comfort to realise that every other ship in his flotilla was undergoing a similar ordeal.

Clinging tenaciously to the edge of the War Table, Chulling indicated to the WATO what he had just discovered.

“See, they cluster in threes before they fire,” he indicated to the WATO who nodded his understanding, “that’s why they’re hammering us,” he added as another bolt struck causing him to lurch along the War Table edge.

“Take the Tactical Computers offline and go to manual firing,” Chulling ordered, “divide the enemy force into sectors and target them as they begin to cluster.”

Taking the Tactical Computers off line would give target selection responsibility back to the high-yield pulsar-cannons’ gunners. The Tactical Computers had not been programmed to read the increased threat potential of the M-Cruisers taking up their new and innovative three vessel formation. The old parameters of distance, weapon range, weapon strength, and the other variables that the Tactical Computers calculated hundreds of times every second were now redundant in the face of this new tactic.

“You understand what I’m saying, WATO!?” Chulling asked as the Memphis shook once more.

“Yes, sir,” the WATO replied, “It’ll take time to re-programme all the tactical computers!”

“We don’t have that time!” Chulling instructed, “Go to manual firing and target them as they cluster!”

“Sir!” the WATO barked and dashed back to his console.

For the first time since the engagement had begun, Chulling was starting to feel like he had some control over the events that were unfolding. He had caught a break by discovering the Bardomil innovation; now he had to make use of the knowledge.

“All Eagles launched and in formation,” the WATO announced.

Looking at the War Table image, Chulling used the Manipulator to change the perspective and see the squadrons in their holding stations, circling behind the Alliance force-shielding. With another deft flick of his fingers, the Manipulator changed the image to that of the advancing M-Cruisers who dodged and weaved their way through the fusillades of Alliance high-yield pulsar-bolts. As Chulling watched another M-Cruiser was struck. The left gull-wing was torn off by the passing white-hot pulsar-bolt. The vessel survived the bolt strike, but Chulling knew it would play no further part in this day’s combat. It wasn’t a ‘kill’ for the hard-pressed gunners to celebrate, but one less M-Cruiser in the battle was always a blessing.

“Tactical Computers are now offline, sir,” the WATO announced.

“Excellent; order the gunners to fire, but only when those M-Cruisers start clustering,” he ordered the WATO, “Engineers, how long until Ticonderoga, Devastator and Marlborough can get underway?”

“Marlborough is back in the firing line, Devastator is running final tests and Ticonderoga reports another ten minutes,” the Engineering Officer reported.

“Very well,” Chulling replied, “right, WATO, let’s get those Eagles in there to chase off those M-Cruisers,” Chulling ordered feeling bullish once more at the prospect of handing out little punishment for a change.

Operating the Manipulator once more, Chulling showed a blue highlighted course for the Eagles on the War Table image.

“Send them out in a pincer attack, WATO, and try to get them in behind those M-Cruisers to cut off their line of retreat,” Chulling instructed, indicating with his free hand how the Eagles should get behind the enemy before attacking.

“Understood, sir,” the WATO replied, “but what about the Harpoons and Flying Devils?”

“It’s going to be hit and run, WATO,” Chulling explained, “get in there, hit them hard and get out before the Big Wing closes on them.”

“Yes, sir,” the WATO responded.

“Sir,” the Scanner Officer chimed, “the enemy are bringing up their reserves from the convoy.”

For a moment, Chulling tried to comprehend what had just been said. The Bardomil commander was committing his reserves to the fight. The additional M-Cruisers coming forward would mean that even if the Eagles could beat off this attack, there would be new ships to pound at his already fragile line once the Flying Devils and Harpoons had chased the Alliance fighters away. With a deep sigh, Chulling knew that he had only one course of action open to him or his flotilla would be bombarded to space dust where they stood.

“Engineers,” Chulling called out, “I want all ships ready for Trion Drive in ten minutes,” he ordered, “if Ticonderoga isn’t ready by then, abandon and destroy her. Is that clear?”

“Clear, sir” the Engineering Officer confirmed the order.

“Sir,” the WATO interrupted, “pulsar-cannons ready.”

“In your own time, WATO, in your own time,” Chulling ordered and concentrated on the line of advancing M-Cruisers once again.

“Opening fire, sir,” the WATO confirmed the order.

For a long moment nothing seemed to happen as Chulling watched the advancing M-Cruisers. Then suddenly, the M-Cruisers began to cluster in their three vessel formation in preparation to fire at the Alliance positions.

With several groups of M-Cruisers coming into position, the Alliance gunners opened fire. Moments later, the white-hot pulsar-bolts seethed downrange towards their intended targets. Many of the three vessel formations, already committed to firing, had no way of escaping. Chulling watched calmly as one trio of M-Cruisers sustained a direct hit and disappeared in a huge fireball of death and destruction. Four more formations suffered the same fate within moments of the first strike sending great plumes of fiery destruction in every direction. Two more trios managed to see the oncoming harbingers of death and devastation and attempted to break formation. However, it was far too late. With one of the three vessels struck by the hurtling pulsar-bolt, the massive feedback built up in the link between the vessels reached back through their power connection and annihilated the other two ships.

Within seconds, twenty one M-Cruisers had been consigned to a fiery oblivion. But, Chulling noted with some disappointment that more pulsar-bolts had missed their targets than had hit. Removing the Tactical Computers from the equation had reduced the accuracy of the gunnery. Having become reliant on the computerised targeting systems, the Alliance gunners had become rusty in their target practice. The simple rules of their original training had long become faded memories. Once again, Chulling considered that his complacency had let his flotilla down in the heat of battle.

With the pulsar-cannons now cooling, Chulling watched as the two Eagle formations rapidly closed the gap towards the advancing M-Cruisers.

With a weather eye to the Harpoons and Flying Devil formations that were trying to close the gap on their M-Cruiser comrades, Chulling gauged that it was going to be a close run thing. The speedier and more agile Eagles were closing the distance, but the Bardomil fighters were in closer proximity. The War Table image showed that the Alliance fighters would arrive first, but with only a few seconds to spare. Chulling wondered just how much damage they could do in those precious seconds. Broadening out his War Table view, Chulling could see the Bardomil reserves hurtling through the lanes of the invasion convoy to reinforce the front line strike fleets. There was no way they could reach the front line M-Cruisers before the Eagles, but they could add their weight to the next, inevitable, round of pounding on his position.