First Contact War, Continued
Dathu Periphery
Dearoth System
The 10th Armada had finally arrive to their destination as over a hundred ships had simultaneously flashed into existence as they all left FTL space. They had appeared just beyond the Asteroid Fields, and made their move towards Dearoth. From the Command Room, High Overseer Zamaria observed what little recovered footage and layouts of the star system from the scouting brood's remain, even watched the battle that took place prior to the Armada's arrival. "For Primitives, they are quite the determined sort, as the late overseer said." On both flanks stood two other Dathu, Ranaj and Udena, her top officers in the fleet. She turns to face both of them. "You two are to take your forces and move ahead of the fleet, don't let these wretches lick their wounds." They both bowed and complied, leaving the command room. After some time had passed. Over fifty ships had broken off from the fleet and sped ahead towards their target.
Flagship DFS Resolution
In Orbit of Dearoth Prime
“Your sole purpose is to hold them off, Grand Admiral. For every minute you delay their armada, we can retrofit another freighter to work with their FTL drives and another thousand people can escape. Good luck,” came the voice of Ukyla over the video screen. Her features almost seemed to droop with resignation before the feed cut off.
The Grand Admiral rose from his seat, a scowl forming on his face. A bridge officer addressed him and he spoke. “Bring all vessels to general quarters. Get us in column formation and move on my command,” He said in his smooth and calm voice.
The nearly two hundred and seventy five vessels did as he ordered, forming up in a column. Corvettes at the front, frigates behind them, destroyers behind them, battle cruisers behind them, the flagship bringing up behind them, and the carriers at the rear. The engines of each vessel fired synchronously as they moved to meet their foe.
The First wave of the Dathu fleet had finally arrived to the world of Dearoth, met with the full might of the Dearothian Military in orbit. The Dathu light and heavy frigates were the first to enter orbit, approaching the Dearoth Fleet, unleashing their missile salvos and volleys of plasma bolts. The five larger capital ships had hung back, providing support as they unleashed their own attack in the form of swarms of fighter craft.
The first wave is met with a blinding flash as coilgun shot after coilgun shot, missile after missile, are sent at the fast approaching foe. However, the plasma bolts do their number, taking out a fair few corvettes and frigates, also damaging the rear portion of a destroyer.
Meeting the Dathu fighters is the Dearothians’ own swarm of interceptor craft, clashing midway and unleashing hails of autocannon fire and air-to-air missiles.
Meanwhile, the first evacuations were taking place, the lights of first a few, then many freighters vanishing into FTL visible on the other side of the planet. In the initial evacuation, perhaps sixty thousand people had made their way into the void of space. After that, the flashes of light turned into small trickles in the void, as freshly retrofitted ship after retrofitted ship made their way away from the system. A simple morse message came through to the flagship of the Dearothian forces. “SIXTY-SEVEN THOUSAND PEOPLE GONE. THEY OWE YOU THEIR LIVES.”
The Dearothian counterattack took its toll on the Dathu frontline, many of the frigates shattering from the coilgun shots, many fighters shot down before they even properly engaged the enemy, for Zamaria’s talk of absolute strength of the Dathu, it seemed even a planetary civilization could resist a space faring empire like the Dathu, now she will feel the shame that Guimos felt. Stray missile had gotten passing the Dathu frigate screen as they hit one of the larger capital ships, merely dents or small hull damage, but brave nonetheless. The Capital ships soon made their move as the frigate screen was slowly collapsing, over a dozen ships already lost. Three light cruisers and a battlecruiser moved in to fill in the empty gaps, firing away as streams of plasma emerged from the formation. In the chaos, one could easily fail to notice one missing ship, a heavy cruiser had broken off from the rest, moving closer towards the planet, ready to wreak havoc down on the surface.
The Dearothian fleet keeps up its attack, indeed failing to see the heavy cruiser. The fighters, too, keep up their attack, screening the attacking fighters and attempting to minimize losses.
The ground-to-orbit guns on Dearoth roared to life, shaking the earth around them as they fired at the heavy cruiser. Meanwhile, ships continued to trickle out of orbit. In ten minutes, another ten thousand people had escaped. The flagship received another message, “DISMANTLING FACTORIES, SEVENTY-SEVEN THOUSAND PEOPLE GONE. OUR INFRASTRUCTURE WILL NOT BUILD WEAPONS FOR THE ALIENS.”
The continued assault from the surface was tolling on the heavy cruiser’s shields, but pressed on as it neared the surface, passing through the clouds, those that were still on the ground witness what seemed to be the end of the world as a large burning object drew closer to planet. The cruiser had finally arrived, but to a great cost, the combined strain of the Anti-orbit guns and entering the atmosphere had caused the shields to shut down, the ship was vulnerable, but it did not matter to ranaj, she would carry out her orders to death, and made for her possibly final attack as her ship begun to track the origin point of the anti-orbital attacks.
“Damn! Full power to all weapons! Hold for a bit longer!” Cibran shouted, grasping for dear life onto a nearby console as the deck shuddered with the fire of each weapon.
The column was now breaking, but soon reformed into a wedge, with the flagship at the head, firing off its spinal coilgun at every interval it could. The fighters that had encountered the Dathu’s were now faltering and breaking, many of the remnants limping back to their carriers. But, as fast as they left, new but smaller squadrons scrambled to replace them.
More frigates had falling, shutting down as vital systems had been blown off from coilgun rounds, the three light cruisers moved ahead, firing off their plasma cannons and turrets, but sustained much damage as they advanced. From the command bridge aboard the leading battlecruiser Udena observed as the battle became too close for comfort. “Guimos was right..” he muttered, his fleet slowly being worn down by the natives, his worries may soon be put to rest as reinforcements arrived, for the most part. Still quite a distance away, but within range, the High Overseer and the rest of the Armada had finally arrived, deploying another swarm of fighter craft to support the slowly crumbling frontline.
The city of New Silai was preparing for the worst. The local military reserves had been called in, and raggedy local militias had been formed. The guns continued to fire on the heavy cruiser, as legions upon legions of troops amassed in the city itself for a desperate defence of whatever might come. Meanwhile, the trickle of ships only continued to increase as the evacuation continued. Beamed to the flagship was the short message, “PLANETARY MUSEUM HAS BEEN EMPTIED AND SPIRITED AWAY. OUR HISTORY IS SAFE.”
Cibran wore a worried expression on his face as he yelled to the officer at work beside him. “Get me a morse line to the executive!” The officer did as told, pulling forth a drawer of keys, waiting to type the message.
“THERE ARE TOO MANY. WE CANNOT HOLD FOR MUCH LONGER.”
A stray plasma bolt strikes the flagship moments after, nearly shearing off the starboard hangar bay. “Sir, we’re venting atmosphere! Sealing off decks five and six!”
Meanwhile, on-planet, joining the militias and such raised inside the various cities are small detachments of marine reserves, bearing their imposing armor and weaponry, preparing to defend to the last.
The heavy cruiser now was approaching the city, detecting a large amount of life signs, within moments, pods drop from the cruisers underside, dozens raining down on the city. Within these pods held the dreaded Omega Strain of the Yanthu servitors. Throughout the city, the pods sprang open as they unleash small broods of Ravagers, living killing machines now running loose in the streets of New Silai.
Up in orbit, a light cruiser had taking too much fire and had split in two from one last round of missile strikes, shattering in large, drifting wreckage, said wreckage colliding with other cruisers, causing their shields to burst. The newly arrived fighter swarms flew past the battle-wrecked fleet and towards the Dearothians fleet, hundreds destroyed from another wave of attacks from the defenders.
A singular message was beamed to the Dearothian fleet. “UNDERSTOOD. YOUR SERVICE WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN. ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND PEOPLE WILL LIVE TO SPREAD YOUR LEGEND FAR AND WIDE.”
Meanwhile, on the ground, the fighting began as the militias entered urban combat with the Dathu, achieving early successes due to superior use of the terrain and a healthier knowledge of the city.
The fleet keeps up its fight, most of its corvettes and frigates lying in ruin. As many vessels run out of missiles or tungsten rods, support vessels swarm from the carriers at the rear to replenish each one.
The Grand Admiral himself reads the message addressed to him, nodding at the officer which received it and announcing to the bridge. “All hands, all hands, we are clear to pull out at our discretion. Now, I want to say, anyone who wants to leave, do so now.” The voice booms across the PA systems of every vessel in the fleet. Not one ship or even man budges whatsoever. “Good.” Each and every one remains at their station, a steady order in that of chaos. Load, aim, fire. Load, aim, fire.
On the ground the marines encounter their enemy with fierce resolve and decisive tactics. Having been trained for these scenarios, the marines ambush their foe at every bend and turn. The men fight til the ammo has run out. And when it has, they draw blades and encounter their enemy in hand-to-hand.
Up in orbit, the first wave of Dathu warships was reduced to a single ship, a battlecruiser. Udena stared intensely at the holo-projection of the Dearothian fleet, their determination, their continued resistance filling him with fury, and fear...he knew his fate as soon as the High Overseer arrived with the rest of the fleet, her orders are to be followed by the letter under her, and if not, Guimos is a perfect demonstration of the price. In that instant, Udena’s battlecruiser was lit ablaze as the supercarrier dawned over it. “Pathic.” Zamaria spat. “You fools followed one order at least. The natives have been worn down, now I will finish what my underlings have failed to, all ships! fire!”
Elsewhere, below, the city of New Silai was burning as Dathu Aircraft departed from the hovering cruiser, raining plasma down on the city. Corpses of Ravagers and local defenders littered the streets. Soon the more humanoid Alpha Strain of the Yanthu roamed the streets as the dropships make their landing.
“THE ARCHIVES HAVE BEEN TRANSFERRED. OUR TECHNOLOGY WILL NOT FALL INTO THEIR HANDS.” came the message, right on schedule, as the fighting continued in New Silai. Soon enough more forces from the local countryside and neighboring cities entered the fray, leaving in its wake brutal fighting.
The remnants of the fleet consisted of mainly the large destroyers, battlecruisers, carriers, and flagships. They pressed as hard as ever, having been resupplied. Many focus their main batteries on the supercarrier and any surrounding battlecruisers. The missiles of which they release seek their target on smaller craft which dared to lurk in their path.
On the ground, outdated fighter craft scrambled from nearby airstrips to encounter the enemies. The craft swarmed, the entire stores of them having been mobilized, veterans from other wars and civilians filling their seats. The marines continue their well planned ambushes, phase lines being set up. When one wave is broken, another lies merely a block behind it.
The Supercarrier and her heavy escort pressed on with the attack as the made their slow advance, victory within their grasps, no matter how worn out the shields were getting, or the loss of any ships, the fleet pressed forward, returning fire with volleys of plasma beams and missiles.
The Heavy Cruiser down below took even more damage to its hull as enemy aircraft made strafing runs on it. The city battle was as brutal as ever as the Dearothian soldiers engaged their equals, the Alpha Strains, trading shots through the city. The battle would soon be put to an early end however as one fighter had a lucky shot, a missile hitting a vital part for the ship’s stability. A series of explosions appeared all across the hull as the cruiser made its last descent towards the city.
“YOUR HOME WILL BE DESTROYED UNDER ALIEN RULE THE MOMENT YOU STOP FIGHTING. THE 200,000 PEOPLE WHO HAVE ESCAPED WILL BUILD A STATUE OF YOU SOME DAY.”
The singular message came through to the entire fleet, as the city itself was crushed under the cruiser. The steady trickle of ships from the other side of the planet did not stop, indeed it only grew larger as the workers became more and more efficient at retrofitting the ships.
The flagship takes a hit to the port hangar, it literally vaporizing as it is hit. Destroyers and battlecruisers alike take their fair share of hits, operating under massive strain as they throw fire towards their foe.
On the ground the marine reserves of each city mobilize and detachments accompany each and every evacuation craft, with many manning each city’s defenses.
“I’ve had enough of this..” Zamaria said. “ Cruisers 3021, 4502 and 5694 are to move at full speed, ram the enemy ships and unload all your ordinance.” following her command, three light cruisers speed towards the Dearothian fleet, followed by a swarm of plasma missiles. “This world WILL be ours…”
Meeting the three on course to ram is two battlecruisers per light cruiser, four destroyers per light cruiser, and what’s left of the frigates and corvettes, all of which unloading nearly all the ordnance they have at them, intent on basically vaporizing them.
Meanwhile the unoccupied vessels, including the flagship, keep up fire in the same fashion as they have all this time.
“300,000 PEOPLE HAVE ESCAPED. YOU ARE THEIR SAVIOR,” came the message, right on time. It paused, then continued, “THE ORBITAL SHIPYARDS HAVE FINISHED AN ARK SHIP. 2,000,000 ARE ESCAPING. THEY WILL NEVER FORGET YOU.”
The evacuation continued.
Another screen of light warships fall to the last of the Dearothian fleet, the Supercarrier continuing its advance, its shields under attack from a wave of missiles, coilgun shots and incoming wreckage from its comrades and enemies alike. The Original one hundred and fifty strong fleet had now been reduced to eighty seven, a sizable force no doubt, but far from their old numbers, but they kept it up, no matter how many ships they’d lose. The fighter swarms were soon recalled as the fleet made their push.
Meanwhile the Dearothian fleet had been whittled down to a mere 73. Nonetheless the enemy’s number and weaponry advantage, the fleet continued its fire and still focused mainly on the supercarrier and its escort. However, as the foe closed in, the ships began a steady backpedal in which they kept up their fire but still distanced themselves from the enemy.
“2,350,000 PEOPLE HAVE ESCAPED. A SECOND ARK SHIP IS IN CONSTRUCTION. THE EYES OF THE WORLD ARE UPON YOU.”
The Dathu sent out another wave of plasma and missiles, the carrier firing its heavy plasma cannons, its shields however were weakening, down to nearly ten percent. “Push forward! I want all of them dead!”
In that moment, one of the frigates took a direct hit in the command deck, drifting straight towards the supercarrier as it clashed with it, breaking down the shields and dragging against the hull. More missiles targeted the carry, adding to the damage to it. “We’ve lost the shields!”
“We will not fall back! PUSH. FORWARD!”
Many of the destroyers the fleet once had lay as eviscerated husks. Now the remaining vessels fire their coilguns at the now unshielded supercarrier, allowing their dwindling supply of missiles to deal with smaller craft.
The carriers in the rear release the remains of the fighter and bomber craft in their holds, screening the enemy as they push forward.
Once the Dearothian fleet focused all fire on the supercarrier, Zamaria became all too aware of her fate. “No..no!” she screamed out as a wing of bomber craft flew past the graveyard of starships, making their move towards the carrier’s underbelly, unaware however, that somewhere within that section is the command bridge. The room trembled as a round of missiles hit near their position, alerts ringing out for a hull breach nearby. “No..” she muttered as another round of missiles pushed their way in the breach, the very floor beneath Zamaria collapsing as she and all nearby personnel were sucked out into the cold vacuum of space.
Unaware of the massive blow they had dealt, the Dearothian ships keep up their fire as they had.
The Grand Admiral transmits to the executive. “WE ARE HOLDING.”
The Dathu fleet begins to scatter as they begin to encircle the Dearothian fleet, preparing for the final strike, and possibly end it.
As the Dearothian fleet begins to realise what is happening, they start to focus their fire on a specific section of the encirclement, moving to break free.
“THE LONGER YOU HOLD, THE MORE WE CAN EVACUATE.” came the reply to the admiral’s earlier message.
As the fleet begins to trap the enemy, they Dearothians quickly reacted, followed by a combined assault of one section of the formation, a heavy cruiser now vaporized, leaving an opening for the Dearothians.
They take it, moving to escape encirclement, forming a whole new column of defense as they escape.
With the loss of the High Overseer, the fleet was in chaos regarding the chain of command, the ships scattering about, no doubt much to the bewilderment of the Dearothians, and for them, a miracle had occurred, the Dathu ships begun to flee to the darkness of space, the battle had been won so it seems for the defenders.
The Dearothians, with what ships they had left, began an orderly withdrawal to the other side of the planet, to closely escort and safeguard the evacuating civilians. On the surface, the process continued with all the vigor it had been.
Jelaki Mining Corporation
Somewhere on Dearoth Prime
“I can’t believe they’re trusting us with this much ordnance,” said one of the miners, as he directed the nuclear missiles into the massive deep-core mining pit. He might as well have said it to himself, as nobody responded. Everyone had their job to do, and they were doing it. The entire arsenal, thousands upon thousands of missiles and bombs, from the first prototypes to the latest versions were being loaded into the core. Everyone knew what it meant, this was the last time they’d see their planet. Nonetheless, they worked on. The evacuation was a public affair, and everyone knew their duty.
Ark ships were beginning to be pumped out rapidly, millions of people escaping on them into unknown space.
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