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Homeworld Return - blackjack
:: 05/05/01 ::
Chapter 5
The Deacon-class Destroyer seemed to appear out of nowhere, silently slipping out of a crack in the very fabric of space. Then, as suddenly as the hole in space had appeared, it was gone, and the Destroyer scanned the surrounding area with its sensor systems as if nothing had just happened, as if it had been idly sitting there since the beginning of time. It sent a tiny message back towards its point of origin, and waited for only a second before nearly two dozen other holes opened up and discharged a Shaman-class carrier, a pair of Dreadnoughts, a quartet of additional Deacons, and a large group of Multi-beam Frigates.
The Third Kiith Somtaaw Fleet had arrived.
Immediately, the Dreadnoughts picked up a pair of Deacons and moved with their escorts into a long broad formation, side by side. While the Shaman began unloading its fighter complement, the battle groups slowly split off, the Multibeams splitting into three groups, one each escorting both dreadnoughts and the Carrier. Their organization complete, the sub-fleets waited for Recons to be dispatched to scan the surrounding area.
Six Recons obliged and began a long spiral down a conical path through each axis out from the Fleet.
* * *
The pilot of Recon 2 was bored out of her mind. After nearly half an hour of finding nothing but patches of nebula gasses, she was about ready to turn her ship around and head home. But orders were orders, and so like a good little pilot she obeyed and watched the report scroll on her screen.
Her blink nearly made her miss the single tiny snippet of information that she'd found interesting for the entire time since she'd been dispatched. She stopped the flow of information that she could barely read anyway and backed the whole thing up to stare at that tiny anomalous report from one of the sensors.
A report of something solid.
Checking the grid coordinates displayed on the tiny screen, she pivoted her fighter in the direction that the reading was supposed to have come from. It was a bank of thick gas, held together by its own gravitational force , she saw, bringing her fighter to a halt so as not to cruise into it. Practically liquid, she realized as she scanned it - the reading could simply have come up from the viscous murk pushing against itself as she cruised by.
"Great," she muttered to herself. She pounded her fist against the console, annoyed and angry, and suddenly in a burst of rage grabbed the trigger and fired three shots into the nebula from her recon's small cannon. The rounds sliced through the mess, and swept aside enough of the liquid to give her the shock of her life.
Bared by the movement of the thick clouds was a dark patch of hull plating.
She had no time to call for help or even scream before the ion beam cut her fighter in two and her fusion drive detonated.
* * *
The captain of the Shaman-class carrier was no ordinary Somtaaw. Raahald Somtaaw had been one of the few of their number who had been awake during the Return, and even further unlike them he had been incontent with mining resources to fuel the growth of the fleet. He had striven for the rank of captain of his own capital ship since the conception of such a craft, and after passing aptitude tests he was rewarded command of a Support Frigate which tended the Mothership. Not a glorious assignment, he often reflected, but it had eventually pushed him up into the command of his own Destroyer, the Fek-Arri, where he had further gained prestige by helping to fend off the initial assault on the Mothership when she first hyperspaced into the orbit of Hiigara. After the Landfall he had remained commander of the Fek-Arri in a scouting and patrol mixed-Kiith battlegroup until it was decommissioned, but by then the Somtaaw were already building the Faal-Corum and he had gladly taken an assignment, rising once again to the command of his current vessel, the Cree-Pak. Years of service had prepared him for any battle situation, made him focused and capable of evaluating his opponent's assets and using his in the most effective way possible.
And yet now even he, trained for moments such as this, was in a state of near-panic. They had lost contact with Recon 2 only three minutes ago, but since then all five other Recons had disappeared without so much as a single transmission. Though a few of his bridge officers were trying to rationalize the sudden loss of all of their dispatched craft, Raahald knew what it meant. They were surrounded on all sides.
He glanced at the production line screen for his ship and tapped out an order for several Dervish MBFs. There was a churning sound from deep inside the Carrier as the automated production lines went to work; satisfied that they were online, Raahald brought up a tactical situation grid of the surrounding space. The 3-D sphere turned and twisted as he tapped it further, observing his fleet from every angle and deciding upon tactical moves. He shifted the available MBFs into a defensive sphere around the Carrier and reorganized the various Super-Capital ships into a quartet of battlegroups, two groups of single Archangels and two more of paired Deacons. His decided changes implemented, he leaned back in the command chair and waited. He knew that his enemies would strike soon.
It seemed like an hour, a year, a lifetime, as he waited. A Dervish was completed; he moved it into a gap in the defensive field, then decided to construct a squadron of Sentinels to shield the Carrier, but other than miniscule distractions the universe seemed to pause in its endless cycle as he waited for the siege to start.
And then, suddenly, it began.
"Contact!" came the cry from the bridge of a Dreadnought. "We have visual contact on... Gods of Kharak, it's huge!"
He spoke quickly into the communications microphone to the captain of the Archangel. "Copy that, Sora-Hiik. Transmit visual signal and grid coordinates."
"Copy."
Raahald turned around in his chair to survey the whole of the bridge and began snapping orders, shifting his gaze to the various department heads as he addressed them. "C & C, order all fleet elements into full battle alert and readiness for an enemy attack, and transfer that data stream from the Sora-Hiik onto main monitors. Engines, keep the hyperdrive on standby - we may need it yet. Weapons, power up all turrets and ready targeting solutions for every ship in the fleet as targets appear."
A chorus of ayes sounded, and his orders given, Raahald spun again and waited for the visual telemetry from the Dreadnought to appear. When the screen finally flashed to life, though, he almost snapped the order for all ships to hyperspace as he got a glimpse of the mysterious force that had destroyed the Jiik-Lari and his reconnaissance craft.
The ship was massive, he saw from the wireframe scale renderings of Taiidani, Hiigaran, Somtaaw, and Turanic carrier-class vessels displayed underneath the image. The ship was slightly longer than the model of the Lord-class ship, but it was even more imposing than the rarely-seen Turanic Lord.
It was, at first glance, a streamlined Avatar-class cruiser of massive proportions, with its stubby winglets being connected to the main craft with relatively thin connection bridges, but the matte-black paint scheme and the softly purple-lit docking bay eroded all comparisons to the Hiigaran Cruiser. The ship was smooth and streamlined, and it was immediately apparent that though the ship carried a docking bay, it also carried massive weaponry. Multiple flat domelike turret structures dotted the hull - Raahald counted at least nine large turrets - and when the ship opened up with the cannons it was apparent to the entire bridge crew that it carried a tremendous weapon inventory. Six thick green ion beams lanced out from the various turrets and cut into the Dreadnought's hull just past the camera angle.
The captain of the Sora-Hiik's voice rang out over the bridge speakers. "They're firing on us, Command.. confirmed hostility!"
Raahald responded in terse tones. "I see that, Sora-Hiik… can you give me an analysis of the beams?"
"Ahhh… yes, yes sir… beams are very powerful… ions appear to be accelerated faster than our typical ion cannons do… it's really cutting into our hull sir…" The captain cut off as several energy cannon rounds and an ion beam sliced back into the hull of the ship, pitiful against the force of the sustained emerald lances. "The firing style is also distinct… they appear to not actually be constant beams but rather very short bursts of ions interspersed with pauses in the firing cycle… serious damage to our hull… far more deadly than a typical cannon… I don't know how long we can hold out…"
Raahald cut the Dreadnought's captain off by issuing an order to all the ships in his fleet. "All fleet assets, converge on that vessel!"
"Sir, wait!" came the cry from his command and communications officer. "We are picking up two more of the unidentified craft! Closing in on separate angles… sir, these ships have escorts! Roughly comparable to Destroyer-class!"
"Belay my last order! Show me!" Raahald barked.
A small sub-screen window appeared on the main display, showing a long, rounded vessel, composed of a pair of thick spar-like wing structures attached to a main rounded rectangular body. A wireframe next to the ship showed it to be slightly larger than the Skaal Tel class Taiidani destroyer. "Designate new ship classes," called Raahald, staring at the image of the death-black vessel with its deadly shape. "That thing," he muttered, pointing to the largest vessel, "is hereby designated 'Carrier-Cruiser'. That," he continued, pointing at the smaller ship, "is a Destroyer."
"Yes sir, transmitting designations now."
"Wrap up a data pack also and prep it for transmission back to Command."
"Copy that," came the reply from his C & C officer.
Raahald watched as the trio of enemy battle fleets homed in on his Carrier. Evaluating several things in his head at once, he made several snap decisions in a row. "Sora-Hiik, Frael-Ron, and all Deacon Destroyers, engage nearest Carrier-Cruiser. All Dervishes, engage the enemy Destroyers, immediately!" He watched as the ships moved into position, but a cry from the Sora-Hiik cut off his further planning.
"Sir! We have suffered critical damage! Request authorization to fall back immediately!"
Raahald yelled back. "Negative, Sora-Hiik, continue your engagement!"
"But si-" The captain's transmission ended in a ball of flame as the Archangel ripped itself open from the inside out, shredded far too much by the deadly pulse ion beams to contain the power of its fusion torch reactor. The detonation sent small flecks of metal spiraling out from the destruction of the Dreadnought, rocking the Carrier and other vessels that had been caught in the blast radius. Raahald was thrown from his chair and hit the deck, ears ringing as he struggled back up to his seat.
He watched the main view as a group of MBFs tried in vain to assault the offending Destroyer-vessels, thin and short ion beams carving into armor with much less intensity than the green pulses that fired back and tore apart the Multi-Beams one by one. Slowly, a Deacon was impaled by the ion fire of one of the Carrier-Cruisers and blown in half by the detonation of at least half of its missile component.
Raahald half-choked, half-sobbed his next order. "Engines, engage the hyperdrive! Get us out of here now!"
"Aye!… Sir, engines do not respond!"
He turned in shock to the panicked engines officer who was trying in vain to activate the Cree-Pak's hyperdrive module. "What?" he shrieked.
"Sensors are picking up a… oh Sajuuk, sir, it's a hyperspace inhibitor field!"
Beaten and battered, another Deacon exploded close to the Carrier, hurling the entire bridge crew to the floor. Raahald watched as the last of the Dervishes detonated in its own pyre of metal and fusion plasma. And then, without warning, a transmission cut into all of the Somtaaw fleet's communications channels and a deep, powerful voice sounded.
"Enemy commander, this is the flagship Behemoth of the Ytterbian Military Forces. Surrender now and you will survive. Power down all communications systems and weaponry and we will spare your ships. You have exactly 20 seconds to comply with our terms before we open fire."
Raahald struggled to his feet, calling out as he did so. "Transmit that data pack immediately and get me a channel!"
He received no response, but began speaking. "Behemoth, I will not surrender my ship or fleet! We-" he had no chance to finish, for at that instant eight emerald pulse beams cut into the Cree-Pak and tore apart the bridge. Raahald Somtaaw was incinerated in the blast instantly, and the rest of the ship soon followed as the massive internal reactor destabilized, eradicating the ship and all of the Somtaaw aboard before it flared out in a wave of superheated plasma and collapsed back in on itself, a short-lived nova.
The only thing that escaped the carnage in the Drifts was a tiny stream of data, headed back toward Somtaaw Command to warn them of the impending danger.
<< Homeworld Return: Chapter 4 <<
>> Homeworld Return: Chapter 6 >>
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