Liotrent@A Tattooed Girl Nifty, I'll get started on a CS.
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U WOT M8?
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Hey folks, got room for another?
In
Aether Online - A VMMORPG RP inspired by Log Horizon, SAO, and Overlord
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
I'm interested, somebody poke me when an OOC goes up.
Sorry guys, got sick this weekend. I'll be back on top of my collabs soon.
Who wants a Commonwealth diplomatic party thrown in their face?
@Apollo26@MissingAxis@Isotope@Arawak or anybody else?
@Apollo26@MissingAxis@Isotope@Arawak or anybody else?
Hmm, here's a claim then.
The Greater Germanic Republic!
Man, somebody's just asking for an annexin!
Me and sigma
CSC Salvation
Aishka system
Core Regions
"Damn" Admiral Maria Anisimovna breathed quietly, gazing at the main display of CSC Salvation's flag bridge. The world of Aishka hung serenely on the display, spattered with various icons and sidebars of information. A cluster of some two dozen icons in orbit was causing Anisimovna's consternation. The Angels.
CSC Salvation sat with the entirety of Mercy Fleet just beyond the edges of the Aishka system. Stealthed recon platforms had long since been dispatched insystem, and were now relaying imagery to the fleet. Mercy Fleet was here at the request of the Serene Republic of Yandras; the Taspara's had reached out to the Commonwealth, concerned that some of the Great Powers of the galaxy would try to stick their nose into their conflict with Aishka. Mercy Fleet, as the Commonwealth's peacekeeping unit, had therefore been dispatched to the area to ensure the Yandras-Aishka conflict did not become...politicized.
The fact that the Angels were already here complicated things. If Anisimovna had been able to get into position first, the Angels wouldn't have risked a galactic incident trying to get through Mercy Fleet. As things stood now, they were already deploying, and it would be difficult to get them to stop.
"Well, might as well get in there," she said with a sigh. "Navigation, coordinate a jump to high orbit around Aishka."
A few minutes later, the hundred or so vessels of Mercy Fleet appeared in a series of flashes over Aishka. CSC Salvation immediately began broadcasting Admiral Anisimovna's stern face over the comm frequencies. "Attention First Joint Expeditionary Fleet. This is Admiral Maria Anisimovna, Commanding Officer Mercy Fleet, of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth. You are intervening in a designated neutral conflict, in violation of the Krogow Accords. You are to cease all combat operations immediately."
Anisimovna didn't mention that neither the Stratocracy nor the Republic had actually signed on to the Krogow accords. Of course, she hardly expected the Angels to stand down just because she'd asked nicely, but best to start from a hardline position.
All was silent for a few moments as the Mercy Fleet had awaited for a response from the Angel Fleet, their message had been received and replied. The voice of Admiral Gaius Sanders could be heard over the comm systems. "This is Admiral Gaius Sanders of the 1st Joint Expeditionary Force." He begun. "I'm afraid that will not be an option." Sanders said. "We're here at the personal request of the Aishkan Principality and do intend to follow through their call for help." Before the Admiral cut off, he decided to be a little snarky with the fleet commander. "Better luck next time Maria." He said a slight chuckle. After then, transmission was cut.
Anisimovna rolled her eyes clear to the back of her skull. She had hoped that somehow, for some reason, Sanders might have been replaced by now. No such luck. As she had been so many times in the past, Anisimovna was tempted to blow Archangel and Sanders clear out of space, consequences be dammed. Regrettably, that was not on her list of options, not really. She sighed. "Tactical, lock on to them with our fire control systems. Let them know we mean business, however much good that'll do. Ops, begin launching dropships. Signal the Yandras forces, ask them to halt their advance while we move in to support them. Comms, contact Archangel again, get me Gaius."
In the course of their many clashes over the years, Mercy Fleet and the Angels had managed to avoid obliterating eachother. They had shot eachother a few times, their soldiers had clashed on the ground, they'd opened fire on eachother's dropships; really there'd been dozens of incidents that could have counted as acts of war, but so far, the two fleet commanders had avoided major losses, or committing their respective nations to actual warfare.
CSC Salvation requested a private comm line, and waited for a response.
It wouldn't tke very long for Gaius too pick up as he personnally contact with the private channels. "Maria" He said. "There's nothing you can say to convice me to turn my ships and men away now. We got orders, we're to follow through and we're already too deep in this now." Despite their previous confrontations, many personnel within both task forces often had formed relationships, be they the more friendly or familial sort or the more romantic kind, the latter of which is fiercly looked down upon by their respective Command. Gaius himself has also grown more fond of Maria, in what way, this is still left up in the air.
The comms officer nodded at Anisimovna. She turned to the small audio-visual pickup on the arm of her chair. Gaius Sanders' face appeared on the small screen, and she spoke to him in a deceptively pleasant voice. "Gaius. I could blow you out of space right this minute. Why don't we meet up and discuss the situation instead?"
Gaius gave a small smirk. "You asking me out?" he asked jokingly, much to the dismay of his command staff, their mouns could practically be heard. "Sir, please stop..." his XO, James Krensov said, an officer in his early thirties. Ignoring his subordinates pleas, he continued. "But, going to give the same anwser as before. We got people to help and a war to end."
"Damn your stubborn pride Gaius," Anisimovna cursed. "Fine, have it your way," and she terminated the connection. "Tactical, you have them locked?"
"Yes ma'am. Shall I order the fleet to fire ion warheads?"
Anismovna rolled her eyes again. This sort of clash with the Angels was obviously becoming entirely too routine. "Yes, load and fire a full salvo of ion warheads, equal dispersion on all their units. Sound action stations fleetwide, prepare for combat maneuvers. Launch all fighters."
Mercy Fleet responded to Anismovna's orders with commendable speed. It abruptly shifted into battle formation, the heavy units forming into a wall with the lighter units forming a screen. A flurry of missiles erupted from the massed Commonwealth units, high acceleration ion warheads bearing down on the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. The ion warheads would deal hefty damage against shields and perhaps overload a few sensor clusters, but they dealt little in the way of actual damage.
The very foundation of the Archangel shuddered as the Ion Warheads collided, power throughout the massive vessel flickering between life and death. The carrier itself however, and many ships within the fleet had reamined relativly unharmed. From the Archangel's CIC, Gaius sat looking at the barely functional display screen of the battle ready Mercy Fleet, kneeling forward as he rested his chin upon his fist. "Admiral." James spoke. "Your orders?"
"If Maria wants to play that game again, we'll play alright. Load the Ion ordenence and have several squadrons ready to launch."
"Aye Aye, sir." within moments, the alarms rang as the supercarrier itself moved ahead from the rest of the fleet, adjusting itself to it's broadside as it prepared to fire back. Some minutes pass as a volley of Ion beams are are let loose upon the Mercy Fleet, followed quickly by three fighter squadrons.
CSC Salvation was mostly untouched in its position behind the main wall of battle, but Admiral Anisimovna watched as ion beams scraped away the shields from a number of her ships. "Dispatch interceptors, but they are not to fire on the enemy without my explicit authorization," she announced, grinding her teeth.
Three fighter squadrons from Mercy Fleet's hangars zipped outwards to meet the oncoming Angels. The ranged close rapidly, but Anisimovna declined to authorize her fighters to open fire. A thought struck her.
"Operations, I want five bomber squadrons prepared for immediate tactical jumps. I want them to land practically on top of Archangel's bridge. Maybe Gaius will be more amenable once he's staring down the business end of a few bombers."
"Aye ma'am, we'll see what we can manage."
The bombers blinked and vanished...but reappeared several lightseconds off target on the far side of the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. "Spear it!" Anisimovna cursed viciously, and glared at her ops officer, who visibly quailed under her gaze.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but high precision jumps like that are a bit of a long shot."
Anisimovna did not respond, but turned her glare to the main display.
The three squadrons presed on, the flanking squadrons the Reapers and Neo-Glades, breaking off from the leading group, the Naughty Angels. Out of all the squadrons serving in the Angels, the Naughty Angels were something unique. It wouldn't be too unusual for pilots to custom paint their ships, be it your typical pinup painted over the hull of a dropship or kill scores on the side of a fighter, but the decorations of the Naughty Angels were more...obscene to say the least, breaking every regulation in the book obscene, leaving passers-by outright speechless obscene. Nonetheless, they were among the best squadrons in the fleet, alongside the Reapers and Neo-Glades and earned their reputation.
"Alright angels!" The squadron leader, Naughty one, spoke up. "You know the drill, pick your dancing partner! And don't engage, admiral's orders"
"Roger that Naughty Leader." one of them spoke."
"Scatter!" Another shouted as the squadron broke formation, the other two soon following behind as they "dueled" with their Commonwealth counterparts. "Enjoy the show boys and girls!"
Anismovna thanked the seven lords that she had numerical superiority over the Angels, because one glance at the tactical display showed her pilots were simply not as good as what the Angels had to offer. The two groups of strikecraft whirled and twisted around eachother, neither opening fire, but everywhere she looked the Angels had the advantage. They were constantly on her pilots tails, seemingly unshakeable. If either she or Gaius authorized live fire at this moment, her own fighters would be slaughtered in an instant.
Her thoughts raced. Her own failed bomber assault was doubltessly giving Gaius ideas this very moment. And with the Naughty Angels-it had to be them, with flying that sharp-leading the way, he'd have no trouble pulling a similar maneuver against her. Outnumbering him was a small comfort when he knew exactly where to hit her flagship to instantly kill her. Of course, Anisimovna had in turn become familiar enough with Archangel to know exactly where Gaius was...that was it! Her best shot at forcing him to the negotiating table.
"Tactical, activate hypometric arrays!"
The tactical officer looked confused. The 'spats' between the Angels and Mercy Fleet hadn't required this kind of firepower before.
"Do it! Target their primary sensor array and fire!"
The tactical officer didn't hesitate again, punching in the necessary commands. Doubtlessly he realized that while hypometric arrays were the Commonwealth's deadliest weapon, they were also its most accurate. Without a sound or a trace, the hypometric weaponry activated against Archangel's already weakened shields, focused on her primary sensor array.
In that instant, the Archangel tremored once from the attack. "What the hell was that?!" Gaius excalimed.
"Sir." One of the Bridge Officers spoke up. "We just lost the Sensor Array....point of orign was the CSC Salvation"
Gaius' face grew pale to what had just occured. The Ion Warheads had weakened the Archangel's shields, leaving the carrier itself open for any kind of precision strike from the Mercy Fleet, and to make it worse a thought had occured to him and spoke it outloud. "That could've been us..." He said. The hypomertic arrays weren't the best weapons against well-shielded warships, but on this occasion, it was the perfect weapon of choice to easily end them.
"Damn it all!" He shouted, slaming his fist on the arm rest. James had looked over, foucsing his gaze on the admiral. "Sir? Your orders?"
The Admiral had remained silent for a minute, before he looked up to his XO. "Recall our squadrons and contact the Commonwealth Fleet Commander..if she wants a talk, we'll give her a talk."
"Comms request coming through from Archangel, Admiral Sanders...wishes to know if you'll meet with him to discuss the Yandras-Aishka conflict."
Anisimovna breathed a sigh of relief, which the rest of the flag bridge crew shared. She could hardly blame them; there had been a moment, when she'd ordered the hypometric arrays brought online, a moment where she'd considered using them with more deadly intent. The bridge crew must have been relieved when she'd directed fire against the Archangel's sensor arrays, and even more relieved when Sanders signaled he was willing to talk.
"Stand down action stations, return to general quarters fleetwide. Ask Admiral Sanders where he wishes to meet."
CSC Salvation
Aishka system
Core Regions
"Damn" Admiral Maria Anisimovna breathed quietly, gazing at the main display of CSC Salvation's flag bridge. The world of Aishka hung serenely on the display, spattered with various icons and sidebars of information. A cluster of some two dozen icons in orbit was causing Anisimovna's consternation. The Angels.
CSC Salvation sat with the entirety of Mercy Fleet just beyond the edges of the Aishka system. Stealthed recon platforms had long since been dispatched insystem, and were now relaying imagery to the fleet. Mercy Fleet was here at the request of the Serene Republic of Yandras; the Taspara's had reached out to the Commonwealth, concerned that some of the Great Powers of the galaxy would try to stick their nose into their conflict with Aishka. Mercy Fleet, as the Commonwealth's peacekeeping unit, had therefore been dispatched to the area to ensure the Yandras-Aishka conflict did not become...politicized.
The fact that the Angels were already here complicated things. If Anisimovna had been able to get into position first, the Angels wouldn't have risked a galactic incident trying to get through Mercy Fleet. As things stood now, they were already deploying, and it would be difficult to get them to stop.
"Well, might as well get in there," she said with a sigh. "Navigation, coordinate a jump to high orbit around Aishka."
A few minutes later, the hundred or so vessels of Mercy Fleet appeared in a series of flashes over Aishka. CSC Salvation immediately began broadcasting Admiral Anisimovna's stern face over the comm frequencies. "Attention First Joint Expeditionary Fleet. This is Admiral Maria Anisimovna, Commanding Officer Mercy Fleet, of the Imperial Systems Commonwealth. You are intervening in a designated neutral conflict, in violation of the Krogow Accords. You are to cease all combat operations immediately."
Anisimovna didn't mention that neither the Stratocracy nor the Republic had actually signed on to the Krogow accords. Of course, she hardly expected the Angels to stand down just because she'd asked nicely, but best to start from a hardline position.
All was silent for a few moments as the Mercy Fleet had awaited for a response from the Angel Fleet, their message had been received and replied. The voice of Admiral Gaius Sanders could be heard over the comm systems. "This is Admiral Gaius Sanders of the 1st Joint Expeditionary Force." He begun. "I'm afraid that will not be an option." Sanders said. "We're here at the personal request of the Aishkan Principality and do intend to follow through their call for help." Before the Admiral cut off, he decided to be a little snarky with the fleet commander. "Better luck next time Maria." He said a slight chuckle. After then, transmission was cut.
Anisimovna rolled her eyes clear to the back of her skull. She had hoped that somehow, for some reason, Sanders might have been replaced by now. No such luck. As she had been so many times in the past, Anisimovna was tempted to blow Archangel and Sanders clear out of space, consequences be dammed. Regrettably, that was not on her list of options, not really. She sighed. "Tactical, lock on to them with our fire control systems. Let them know we mean business, however much good that'll do. Ops, begin launching dropships. Signal the Yandras forces, ask them to halt their advance while we move in to support them. Comms, contact Archangel again, get me Gaius."
In the course of their many clashes over the years, Mercy Fleet and the Angels had managed to avoid obliterating eachother. They had shot eachother a few times, their soldiers had clashed on the ground, they'd opened fire on eachother's dropships; really there'd been dozens of incidents that could have counted as acts of war, but so far, the two fleet commanders had avoided major losses, or committing their respective nations to actual warfare.
CSC Salvation requested a private comm line, and waited for a response.
It wouldn't tke very long for Gaius too pick up as he personnally contact with the private channels. "Maria" He said. "There's nothing you can say to convice me to turn my ships and men away now. We got orders, we're to follow through and we're already too deep in this now." Despite their previous confrontations, many personnel within both task forces often had formed relationships, be they the more friendly or familial sort or the more romantic kind, the latter of which is fiercly looked down upon by their respective Command. Gaius himself has also grown more fond of Maria, in what way, this is still left up in the air.
The comms officer nodded at Anisimovna. She turned to the small audio-visual pickup on the arm of her chair. Gaius Sanders' face appeared on the small screen, and she spoke to him in a deceptively pleasant voice. "Gaius. I could blow you out of space right this minute. Why don't we meet up and discuss the situation instead?"
Gaius gave a small smirk. "You asking me out?" he asked jokingly, much to the dismay of his command staff, their mouns could practically be heard. "Sir, please stop..." his XO, James Krensov said, an officer in his early thirties. Ignoring his subordinates pleas, he continued. "But, going to give the same anwser as before. We got people to help and a war to end."
"Damn your stubborn pride Gaius," Anisimovna cursed. "Fine, have it your way," and she terminated the connection. "Tactical, you have them locked?"
"Yes ma'am. Shall I order the fleet to fire ion warheads?"
Anismovna rolled her eyes again. This sort of clash with the Angels was obviously becoming entirely too routine. "Yes, load and fire a full salvo of ion warheads, equal dispersion on all their units. Sound action stations fleetwide, prepare for combat maneuvers. Launch all fighters."
Mercy Fleet responded to Anismovna's orders with commendable speed. It abruptly shifted into battle formation, the heavy units forming into a wall with the lighter units forming a screen. A flurry of missiles erupted from the massed Commonwealth units, high acceleration ion warheads bearing down on the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. The ion warheads would deal hefty damage against shields and perhaps overload a few sensor clusters, but they dealt little in the way of actual damage.
The very foundation of the Archangel shuddered as the Ion Warheads collided, power throughout the massive vessel flickering between life and death. The carrier itself however, and many ships within the fleet had reamined relativly unharmed. From the Archangel's CIC, Gaius sat looking at the barely functional display screen of the battle ready Mercy Fleet, kneeling forward as he rested his chin upon his fist. "Admiral." James spoke. "Your orders?"
"If Maria wants to play that game again, we'll play alright. Load the Ion ordenence and have several squadrons ready to launch."
"Aye Aye, sir." within moments, the alarms rang as the supercarrier itself moved ahead from the rest of the fleet, adjusting itself to it's broadside as it prepared to fire back. Some minutes pass as a volley of Ion beams are are let loose upon the Mercy Fleet, followed quickly by three fighter squadrons.
CSC Salvation was mostly untouched in its position behind the main wall of battle, but Admiral Anisimovna watched as ion beams scraped away the shields from a number of her ships. "Dispatch interceptors, but they are not to fire on the enemy without my explicit authorization," she announced, grinding her teeth.
Three fighter squadrons from Mercy Fleet's hangars zipped outwards to meet the oncoming Angels. The ranged close rapidly, but Anisimovna declined to authorize her fighters to open fire. A thought struck her.
"Operations, I want five bomber squadrons prepared for immediate tactical jumps. I want them to land practically on top of Archangel's bridge. Maybe Gaius will be more amenable once he's staring down the business end of a few bombers."
"Aye ma'am, we'll see what we can manage."
The bombers blinked and vanished...but reappeared several lightseconds off target on the far side of the Joint Expeditionary Fleet. "Spear it!" Anisimovna cursed viciously, and glared at her ops officer, who visibly quailed under her gaze.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but high precision jumps like that are a bit of a long shot."
Anisimovna did not respond, but turned her glare to the main display.
The three squadrons presed on, the flanking squadrons the Reapers and Neo-Glades, breaking off from the leading group, the Naughty Angels. Out of all the squadrons serving in the Angels, the Naughty Angels were something unique. It wouldn't be too unusual for pilots to custom paint their ships, be it your typical pinup painted over the hull of a dropship or kill scores on the side of a fighter, but the decorations of the Naughty Angels were more...obscene to say the least, breaking every regulation in the book obscene, leaving passers-by outright speechless obscene. Nonetheless, they were among the best squadrons in the fleet, alongside the Reapers and Neo-Glades and earned their reputation.
"Alright angels!" The squadron leader, Naughty one, spoke up. "You know the drill, pick your dancing partner! And don't engage, admiral's orders"
"Roger that Naughty Leader." one of them spoke."
"Scatter!" Another shouted as the squadron broke formation, the other two soon following behind as they "dueled" with their Commonwealth counterparts. "Enjoy the show boys and girls!"
Anismovna thanked the seven lords that she had numerical superiority over the Angels, because one glance at the tactical display showed her pilots were simply not as good as what the Angels had to offer. The two groups of strikecraft whirled and twisted around eachother, neither opening fire, but everywhere she looked the Angels had the advantage. They were constantly on her pilots tails, seemingly unshakeable. If either she or Gaius authorized live fire at this moment, her own fighters would be slaughtered in an instant.
Her thoughts raced. Her own failed bomber assault was doubltessly giving Gaius ideas this very moment. And with the Naughty Angels-it had to be them, with flying that sharp-leading the way, he'd have no trouble pulling a similar maneuver against her. Outnumbering him was a small comfort when he knew exactly where to hit her flagship to instantly kill her. Of course, Anisimovna had in turn become familiar enough with Archangel to know exactly where Gaius was...that was it! Her best shot at forcing him to the negotiating table.
"Tactical, activate hypometric arrays!"
The tactical officer looked confused. The 'spats' between the Angels and Mercy Fleet hadn't required this kind of firepower before.
"Do it! Target their primary sensor array and fire!"
The tactical officer didn't hesitate again, punching in the necessary commands. Doubtlessly he realized that while hypometric arrays were the Commonwealth's deadliest weapon, they were also its most accurate. Without a sound or a trace, the hypometric weaponry activated against Archangel's already weakened shields, focused on her primary sensor array.
In that instant, the Archangel tremored once from the attack. "What the hell was that?!" Gaius excalimed.
"Sir." One of the Bridge Officers spoke up. "We just lost the Sensor Array....point of orign was the CSC Salvation"
Gaius' face grew pale to what had just occured. The Ion Warheads had weakened the Archangel's shields, leaving the carrier itself open for any kind of precision strike from the Mercy Fleet, and to make it worse a thought had occured to him and spoke it outloud. "That could've been us..." He said. The hypomertic arrays weren't the best weapons against well-shielded warships, but on this occasion, it was the perfect weapon of choice to easily end them.
"Damn it all!" He shouted, slaming his fist on the arm rest. James had looked over, foucsing his gaze on the admiral. "Sir? Your orders?"
The Admiral had remained silent for a minute, before he looked up to his XO. "Recall our squadrons and contact the Commonwealth Fleet Commander..if she wants a talk, we'll give her a talk."
"Comms request coming through from Archangel, Admiral Sanders...wishes to know if you'll meet with him to discuss the Yandras-Aishka conflict."
Anisimovna breathed a sigh of relief, which the rest of the flag bridge crew shared. She could hardly blame them; there had been a moment, when she'd ordered the hypometric arrays brought online, a moment where she'd considered using them with more deadly intent. The bridge crew must have been relieved when she'd directed fire against the Archangel's sensor arrays, and even more relieved when Sanders signaled he was willing to talk.
"Stand down action stations, return to general quarters fleetwide. Ask Admiral Sanders where he wishes to meet."
I'd like to be in the middle of the Ascendency, the Alorians, and the Dominion.
Bold move friend :p. Lots of conflict brewing there.
Posted my IC! It got a little long in the end.
RCNS Insurmountable
Capric Nebula
Insurmountable, or Mountie as she was known in some circles, was a Phalanx class destroyer operating as an advanced scout for the Commonwealth’s illustrious Fifith Fleet. She was one of an expanding shell of destroyers and frigates moving ahead of the main fleet into the Capric nebula, all of them tied together by an array of reconnaissance drones. Captain Aldiss, Insurmountable’s Yanissan commanding officer, was as calm and collected as one could hope of a starship captain, and his demeanor spread to his crew.
Insurmountable was on the hunt. The latest intelligence reports indicated that the last of the Varangian’s Empress Class Hyperdreadnaughts, Black Zenith was hiding with its support fleet in the Capric Nebula to repair and regroup. Black Zenith had been fighting a guerilla campaign against the Alorians for over a decade now, conducting devastating raids on the Empire’s newly acquired worlds, annihilating lone fleet elements, and generally causing chaos and destruction. This would normally be a problem for the Alorians; they had, after all, conquered the majority of the Varangian’s territory, and consolidating those holdings was strictly an internal matter. The Commonwealth hadn’t been at war with the Varangians since the end of the Great War, barring a few isolated battles here and there.
The problem was, the Capric nebula was within the boundaries of the old Commonwealth-Varangian neutral zone, and thus Black Zenith’s fleet was in violation of a decades old treaty. Nevermind that the neutral zone was now effectively Commonwealth territory, or that the Varangians no longer had a central government. If the aging hyperdreadnaught was in the nebula, the Commonwealth intended to forcibly remove it and restore the neutral zone to its appropriately demilitarized state. If, in the process, Black Zenith was destroyed, doing a massive favour for the Commonwealth’s Alorian allies, so much the better.
“Captain? We’ve lost contact with one of our recon drones,” the tactical officer abruptly reported.
Aldiss raised an eyebrow. “Anything suspicious before it disappeared?”
“Nothing in particular. It may simply be interference from the nebula.”
“Or it may well be our quarry jamming the transmission,” Aldiss countered. Exciting as the possibility might have been, it was also highly dangerous. Aldiss had no intention of getting his people killed if he could help it.
“Prep a triple pattern of drones, launch them sequentially towards where we lost the first one. Have them keep an eye on eachother as they go.”
“Aye sir.”
Aldiss watched the main holo display thoughtfully as the drones flew off. This particular section of the nebula was especially dense and causing problems for his sensors. The drones helped alleviate that problem, and would also give him advance warning of any problems ahead. The first of the new drones reached where the old one had disappeared, and it too abruptly vanished. But the second one was carefully monitoring it, and picked up something.
“That might have been weaponsfire,” the tactical officer reported with thoughtfully. “I picked up a spike of directed UV radiation.”
Aldiss frowned. The Varangians indeed used UV lasers, but hitting a target that small so accurately would mean...point defence batteries. He sat bolt upright in his chair as it dawned on him. “All hands, action stations! Comms! Signal the flagship, Case Baker, I say again, Baker, Baker, Bak-”
The ship shuddered and swayed violently. “Weapon impacts, multiple weapon impacts, shields are gone, we're leaking atmosphere on three decks!”
“Interference is clearing, reading fifty ships in close proximity, Gods know how many more beyond that!”
“All hands, abandon ship, abandon-”
A wave of fire rolled through the bridge. Insurmountable’s reactor gave out, and with a flash, she was no more.
CSC Queen Catherine
Capric Nebula
Admiral Elden Konig paced the flag bridge fitfully. He couldn't really pace very far, in fact he was more or less walking brisk laps around his command chair. Konig was a man who simply couldn't sit still, a vice his staff had grown accustomed to. In fact, it was when he did sit still that they started to worry.
“The transmission cuts out halfway through, but it's confirmed; Captain Aldis signalled Case Baker,” the comms officer reported.
Konig didn't break his stride. Case Baker, or ‘I have made contact with the enemy’. He berated himself mentally for getting Insurmountable killed. The destroyers had been necessary elements of the search pattern, providing vital links in the web of recon drones scouring the nebula. He'd assumed they'd be able to detect an enemy combatant soon enough to avoid action. He'd been wrong.
But Insurmountable’s destruction would not be in vain. “Navigation! Plot a fleetwide tactical jump. Put us at maximum weapons range from Insurmountable’s last recorded position. Tactical! All ships are to prepare full salvoes of wide dispersion laser heads. Put together a firing solution that carpet bombs the whole area. Railguns prepped for full defensive fire. Fleetwide, action stations!”
The orders streamed from Konig, and the fleet swirled around his flagship, ramping up from general quarters to action stations. It took only a scarce few minutes for the orders to be carried out, and the comms officer nodded to Konig when all ships sounded ready.
“Jump!”
In an instant, the entire fleet disappeared, only to re-emerge from FTL a few light-hours away. There was no delay; every ship immediately opened fire, each launching a full double broadside of missiles further into the depths of the nebula. The salvo massed in the thousands of missiles, and they streaked onwards at baffling speed. Not all of them were armed. Some were control missiles, serving as FTL fire control links between the missiles and their motherships, permitting unprecedented control at extreme ranges. Others were EW and ECM missiles, baffling enemy targetting scanners and preventing the enemy from doing the same respectively. But the vast majority were standoff range laser warheads, and they began to detonate in massive pulses of energy, spewing xray lasers throughout the target area. The calibration of these particular missiles meant that the laser heads detonated in pincushions, throwing lasers in every direction. Against any individual ship, much of their destructive power would be wasted, but they were perfect for area denial. The individual weakness of the lasers was irrelevant because of their sheer numbers, and the Commonwealth fleet began to see results.
“We’re picking up secondary explosions further into the nebula, there are ships in there-and there goes some unlucky soul’s reactor,” the tactical officer reported.
“Fire another salvo, flush them out of there!” Konig nearly snarled.
“Aye sir. Prepping another-cancel that, we’re seeing multiple drives lighting up. They’re coming out to fight!”
And they indeed were. The Varangians (for it was them) emerged from the dense gas pocket in formation, clearing their own targeting sensors of the nebula’s interference.
“Sir, I’m picking up an energy buildup from within the nebula…”
Konig crashed into his seat and grasped the arms firmly. “Evasive maneuvers, brace for impact.”
The Commonwealth Star Carrier’s position in the center of the fleet saved it from destruction, as intended. A massive torrent of energy poured out from among the Varangian ships, striking the Victory class dreadnought Honour and Glory amidships and punching right through, striking Queen Catherine’s shields with diminished strength. The flag bridge rumbled with the impact, but the shields held. Honour and Glory was not so lucky; secondary explosions ripped it in two, before the reactor failed and annihilated both halves.
“Captain Marsovna reports no damage, shields are recovering. Honour and Glory has been destroyed,” the operations officer said, the relief in his voice evident.
Konig jumped upright to resume his pacing. “Get SAR birds after whatever lifepods escaped the blast. Ladies and Gentleman, that was Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon. We’ve found her!” he grinned like a shark. “Tactical, all capable ships are to target the source of that weapon with hypometric weapon arrays, fire at will!”
The missile storm continued, now accompanied by positron beams as the leading elements of the Varangian fleet entered range. Here and there the brilliant beam of an axial superlaser flashed smashed against shields or sliced through armour. The missiles were now precision-targeted, unleashing their payloads on ships with tremendous effect. But hypometric weapons were not so flashy. In fact, there was no sign they were firing at all. No beams, no trails, no shells, no trace whatsoever. It was only when the massive bulk of the Varangian hyperdreadnought emerged that their effects became visible. Her fore end was a crumpled mess, deformed and warped where the micro-singularities had torn her into her, crippling her devastating Dust Cannon. But Black Zenith was still a long way from dead, and she opened fire with her endless weapon banks even as her shields reestablished themselves. Fighters and bombers came swarming out of her hangar bays, joining squadrons already disgorging from Sicarius Dreadnaughts. The Commonwealth began launching strikecraft of their own, a few squadrons from each of their larger vessels, and a veritable swarm from Queen Catherine’s massive hangars. The space between the two fleets was rapidly filled with small craft chasing eachother down, fighting and dying in bright pinpricks of light.
Admrial Konig watched the battle on his main display intently. The range was closing rapidly, an understandable move on the Varangians part. Their massed cannon batteries were most effective at close range, and they remembered precisely how to fight Commonwealth formations. Hanging around at long range was not an option when fighting the RCN, especially now with improvements to their missiles and their new hypometric weaponry. It was essential to close to a more threatening range, forcing them to turn their broadsides to permit maximum defencive fire from the railgun batteries, which in turn cut off the use of their axial weapons and their other broadside’s missile tubes. Konig watched the Varangians approach; their technology hadn’t changed much in the last hundred years, they’d been too busy desperately fighting off the Alorians. As a result, the numbers Konig had on their effective weapon ranges were still fairly accurate. He’d decided to assume a 20% increase in effective range, just to be on the safe side; a sphere corresponding to that assumption was displayed around the Varangian formation.
“Comms, signal all ships to prepare for Hornet,” he said calmly.
The projected sphere inched closer to 5th fleet’s leading ships. Closer and closer the Varangians came, until…
“Execute Hornet...now.”
The Commonwealth formation abruptly shifted. In a traditional formation, the battleships and dreadnaughts formed what was called a wall of battle, a solid barrier of tightly packed warships massing their fire. Lighter fleet elements meanwhile would normally form up slightly ahead of the wall as a defensive screen, contributing their defensive fire to protect the wall while the heavier ships focused on offensive fire. This did make the lighter units easier targets, but they were targets no adversary could afford to waste time on while the wall of heavy units was pummeling them to death.
The newer Hornet formation, developed largely by Admiral Adison Volkov when he’d commanded 5th fleet, had some key differences. The wall still formed up as the heavy units turned their broadsides, but it was more loosely formed than usual. The light units did not advance to form the screen, nor did they turn their broadsides, but kept on firing with their axial weapons and double salvos of missiles as they pulled back between the gaps in the wall. The heavy units dedicated their broadside railgun batteries to massed defencive fire, covering both themselves and the light units. It was a much more defence heavy formation than the conventional wall, but the offensive fire available was considerably more precise. It also suited Konig’s objectives better; he was determined to bring home as many of his people as possible. If Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon had still been operational, Konig could never have afforded to use Hornet; the monstrous weapon would have casually ignored all his defensive fire and easily swatted his ships aside one by one. With the weapon out of commision though, Hornet was much more viable, and it was working.
The Varangians preferred massed fire of older style high explosive cannon shells, with only a few of their units firing energy weapons. An effective defence against both kinetic rounds and energy weaponry was the RCN’s graviton flak round, fired in huge numbers from broadside railgun batteries to generate almost a second layer of defence further out from the ship. Graviton flak in no way resembled actual flak, but the name had stuck. Instead, the rounds generated localized gravitational distortions when they exploded. These distortions, individually weak but collectively quite powerful, were sufficient to nudge enemy fire off course and away from the target ship.
Konig watched in satisfaction as his fleet slipped into their carefully drilled positions. The axial weapons of his light units weren’t as powerful, but they still did plenty enough damage, and orientation of those units let them continue to fire double salvoes of missiles. Better still, he was suffering very few losses. The fact of the matter was that this was an isolated battle against what was essentially a rogue fleet, not a war. In war, heavy casualties were expected, justifiable, and accepted. In an action such as this, not so much.
Further aft, on Queen Catherine’s main bridge, Captain Dimitri Marsovna was in charge of running the ship itself. Tucked away behind the main wall of battle, Queen Catherine wasn’t actually capable of bringing much of her firepower to bear. She was largely limited to her hypometric arrays and her missiles, with the occasional blast from her positron cannons carefully slipped between. Even her missiles, however, were being handed off to other ship’s fire control after they launched, to better avoid friendly fire. As Flag Captain, Marsovna was Konig’s tactical deputy, and could be put in command of the fleet at a moment’s notice if the right (well, wrong) circumstances arose. But in their current formation, he was instead serving the needs of other ship’s captains as his ship loaded, fired, and handed off control of missiles. The battle chatter of the bridge was almost soothing to Marsovna’s ears.
“Captain Dillinger requests plasma warheads from our next salvo”
“Captain Vannerick has an opening for us, requesting positron cannons fire on a Varangian cruiser”
“501st bombers need to re-arm, prepare for incoming micro-jumps.”
Then one voice broke through the calm chatter; the tactical officer.
“Captain! FTL signatures off to port!”
Marsovna sat bolt upright. The wall of battle was deployed to starboard; the FTL signatures were coming in from their unprotected flank, with only a handful of light ships in the way.
“Details, what are we looking at Tac?”
“I make it two Sicarius Dreadnoughts with multiple light escorts, inbound at high speed...they’re not launching fighters, must have them already committed against ours out in the fuzzball” the tactical officer replied, referring to the tangle of intermingled strike craft fighting between the two fleets.
Marsovna nodded. In the case of a direct threat to the flagship, he was authorized to give any orders he liked unless Admiral Konig stipulated otherwise.
“Have Batrons 10 and 20 ready tactical jumps, but wait for my orders to execute. Bring all weapons to bear, split fire evenly between both Sicarius’.”
Queen Catherine, despite her protected position behind the wall of battle, was far from helpless. Her port broadsides opened up with everything they had: multiple positron beams blasted away from her dorsal and ventral turrets, countless missiles streaked outwards and a storm of railgun fire went with them. Then her hypometric weapons joined in, with no regard for the conventions of range or line of sight. The two Varangian dreadnoughts’ shields’ lit up as they struggled to deflect the massive barrage, but they kept coming. They closed to range, and opened up with their cannon batteries. The Commonwealth Star Carrier was in full offensive fire, and her shields took the full impact of the Varangian cannons. The ship groaned and rumbled, her shields strained to hold up under the withering stream of fire. Marsovna gritted his teeth, but kept waiting. There, the Sicarius’ shields were beginning to buckle.
“Batron 10 and 20, tactical jump to actual defence point alpha now! Target their FTL drives!”
Four dreadnoughts and four battleships abruptly flashed out from the edges of the wall of battle and reappeared behind the Sicarius’, boxing them in against Queen Catherine and immediately opening fire. The sudden additional fire wiped away the two dreadnoughts shields, and positron beams melted through armour and slashed across their engines.
“Sir, they’re immobilized!” Tactical reported jubilantly.
“Finish them.” Marsovna replied with grim determination.
The CSC and the newly relocated capital ships tore away at the Varangian dreadnoughts with everything they had. The hypometric weapons pummeled deeper and deeper into the armour, placing their deadly micro-singularities with lethal accuracy, until one pierced the core hull in a very inconvenient place. One Sicarius blew up in a fantastic explosion, and her now unshielded compatriot took the brunt of the blast across her starboard armour. The Commonwealth ships did not let up, pounding away until a positron beam sliced through the remaining dreadnought’s core hull and split the vessel neatly in two, leaving it a wrecked hulk, spewing atmosphere and lifepods.
“Get SAR birds out there for the survivors, then bring us back into the fleet’s fire plan.”
Konig watched the two dreadnoughts disappear from his display, and made a mental note to congratulate Marsovna on his excellent handling of the threat. He returned his attention to the dwindling Varangian fleet. They were taking losses far more rapidly than his own ships, which was to be expected. They were old, tired vessels, in service for far too long and no opportunity for proper shipyard maintenance in years. Even Black Zenith was showing her age. Her shields were completely out now, and the Commonwealth fleet was tearing into her savagely. Her cannon batteries began to fall silent one by one as missiles and positron beams blasted them away. Konig watched, almost sadly.
“Switch the Wall to full offensive fire. Let’s put her out of her misery.”
Every battleship and dreadnought in the fleet switched to full offensive fire as one, their railguns no longer spewing graviton flak but instead hypervelocity tritanium slugs, all of it focused on Black Zenith. The Empress class hyperdreadnought buckled and groaned under the relentless fire. An axial superlaser sliced off one of the spikes amidships. A hypometric singularity crippled her engines. The storm of railgun slugs scoured her surface, wiping away every sensor array and communications system. Finally, she could take no more. An explosion burst out of her hull, followed by a chain of them rippling up her spine. Still, 5th Fleet did not relent. In the end, it was a single lucky missile. The missile had lost target lock and flown off course, but reacquired lock as before it was too far gone. It swooped down over Black Zenith and detonated at standoff range, hurling a charge of superheated plasma down into the hyperdreadnought. The charge just happened to be projected right into a hole in the armour. It blasted through the core hull, melting everything in its path, and it just happened to brush the casing of Black Zenith’s primary reactor.
The hyperdreadnought simply vanished in a massive fireball. Seven nearby Varangian ships were annihilated by the blast, and a dozen more were damaged. But that hardly mattered. The last Varangian warfleet’s back was broken, 5th Fleet could easily mop up the remnants. Black Zenith was dead.
Capric Nebula
Insurmountable, or Mountie as she was known in some circles, was a Phalanx class destroyer operating as an advanced scout for the Commonwealth’s illustrious Fifith Fleet. She was one of an expanding shell of destroyers and frigates moving ahead of the main fleet into the Capric nebula, all of them tied together by an array of reconnaissance drones. Captain Aldiss, Insurmountable’s Yanissan commanding officer, was as calm and collected as one could hope of a starship captain, and his demeanor spread to his crew.
Insurmountable was on the hunt. The latest intelligence reports indicated that the last of the Varangian’s Empress Class Hyperdreadnaughts, Black Zenith was hiding with its support fleet in the Capric Nebula to repair and regroup. Black Zenith had been fighting a guerilla campaign against the Alorians for over a decade now, conducting devastating raids on the Empire’s newly acquired worlds, annihilating lone fleet elements, and generally causing chaos and destruction. This would normally be a problem for the Alorians; they had, after all, conquered the majority of the Varangian’s territory, and consolidating those holdings was strictly an internal matter. The Commonwealth hadn’t been at war with the Varangians since the end of the Great War, barring a few isolated battles here and there.
The problem was, the Capric nebula was within the boundaries of the old Commonwealth-Varangian neutral zone, and thus Black Zenith’s fleet was in violation of a decades old treaty. Nevermind that the neutral zone was now effectively Commonwealth territory, or that the Varangians no longer had a central government. If the aging hyperdreadnaught was in the nebula, the Commonwealth intended to forcibly remove it and restore the neutral zone to its appropriately demilitarized state. If, in the process, Black Zenith was destroyed, doing a massive favour for the Commonwealth’s Alorian allies, so much the better.
“Captain? We’ve lost contact with one of our recon drones,” the tactical officer abruptly reported.
Aldiss raised an eyebrow. “Anything suspicious before it disappeared?”
“Nothing in particular. It may simply be interference from the nebula.”
“Or it may well be our quarry jamming the transmission,” Aldiss countered. Exciting as the possibility might have been, it was also highly dangerous. Aldiss had no intention of getting his people killed if he could help it.
“Prep a triple pattern of drones, launch them sequentially towards where we lost the first one. Have them keep an eye on eachother as they go.”
“Aye sir.”
Aldiss watched the main holo display thoughtfully as the drones flew off. This particular section of the nebula was especially dense and causing problems for his sensors. The drones helped alleviate that problem, and would also give him advance warning of any problems ahead. The first of the new drones reached where the old one had disappeared, and it too abruptly vanished. But the second one was carefully monitoring it, and picked up something.
“That might have been weaponsfire,” the tactical officer reported with thoughtfully. “I picked up a spike of directed UV radiation.”
Aldiss frowned. The Varangians indeed used UV lasers, but hitting a target that small so accurately would mean...point defence batteries. He sat bolt upright in his chair as it dawned on him. “All hands, action stations! Comms! Signal the flagship, Case Baker, I say again, Baker, Baker, Bak-”
The ship shuddered and swayed violently. “Weapon impacts, multiple weapon impacts, shields are gone, we're leaking atmosphere on three decks!”
“Interference is clearing, reading fifty ships in close proximity, Gods know how many more beyond that!”
“All hands, abandon ship, abandon-”
A wave of fire rolled through the bridge. Insurmountable’s reactor gave out, and with a flash, she was no more.
CSC Queen Catherine
Capric Nebula
Admiral Elden Konig paced the flag bridge fitfully. He couldn't really pace very far, in fact he was more or less walking brisk laps around his command chair. Konig was a man who simply couldn't sit still, a vice his staff had grown accustomed to. In fact, it was when he did sit still that they started to worry.
“The transmission cuts out halfway through, but it's confirmed; Captain Aldis signalled Case Baker,” the comms officer reported.
Konig didn't break his stride. Case Baker, or ‘I have made contact with the enemy’. He berated himself mentally for getting Insurmountable killed. The destroyers had been necessary elements of the search pattern, providing vital links in the web of recon drones scouring the nebula. He'd assumed they'd be able to detect an enemy combatant soon enough to avoid action. He'd been wrong.
But Insurmountable’s destruction would not be in vain. “Navigation! Plot a fleetwide tactical jump. Put us at maximum weapons range from Insurmountable’s last recorded position. Tactical! All ships are to prepare full salvoes of wide dispersion laser heads. Put together a firing solution that carpet bombs the whole area. Railguns prepped for full defensive fire. Fleetwide, action stations!”
The orders streamed from Konig, and the fleet swirled around his flagship, ramping up from general quarters to action stations. It took only a scarce few minutes for the orders to be carried out, and the comms officer nodded to Konig when all ships sounded ready.
“Jump!”
In an instant, the entire fleet disappeared, only to re-emerge from FTL a few light-hours away. There was no delay; every ship immediately opened fire, each launching a full double broadside of missiles further into the depths of the nebula. The salvo massed in the thousands of missiles, and they streaked onwards at baffling speed. Not all of them were armed. Some were control missiles, serving as FTL fire control links between the missiles and their motherships, permitting unprecedented control at extreme ranges. Others were EW and ECM missiles, baffling enemy targetting scanners and preventing the enemy from doing the same respectively. But the vast majority were standoff range laser warheads, and they began to detonate in massive pulses of energy, spewing xray lasers throughout the target area. The calibration of these particular missiles meant that the laser heads detonated in pincushions, throwing lasers in every direction. Against any individual ship, much of their destructive power would be wasted, but they were perfect for area denial. The individual weakness of the lasers was irrelevant because of their sheer numbers, and the Commonwealth fleet began to see results.
“We’re picking up secondary explosions further into the nebula, there are ships in there-and there goes some unlucky soul’s reactor,” the tactical officer reported.
“Fire another salvo, flush them out of there!” Konig nearly snarled.
“Aye sir. Prepping another-cancel that, we’re seeing multiple drives lighting up. They’re coming out to fight!”
And they indeed were. The Varangians (for it was them) emerged from the dense gas pocket in formation, clearing their own targeting sensors of the nebula’s interference.
“Sir, I’m picking up an energy buildup from within the nebula…”
Konig crashed into his seat and grasped the arms firmly. “Evasive maneuvers, brace for impact.”
The Commonwealth Star Carrier’s position in the center of the fleet saved it from destruction, as intended. A massive torrent of energy poured out from among the Varangian ships, striking the Victory class dreadnought Honour and Glory amidships and punching right through, striking Queen Catherine’s shields with diminished strength. The flag bridge rumbled with the impact, but the shields held. Honour and Glory was not so lucky; secondary explosions ripped it in two, before the reactor failed and annihilated both halves.
“Captain Marsovna reports no damage, shields are recovering. Honour and Glory has been destroyed,” the operations officer said, the relief in his voice evident.
Konig jumped upright to resume his pacing. “Get SAR birds after whatever lifepods escaped the blast. Ladies and Gentleman, that was Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon. We’ve found her!” he grinned like a shark. “Tactical, all capable ships are to target the source of that weapon with hypometric weapon arrays, fire at will!”
The missile storm continued, now accompanied by positron beams as the leading elements of the Varangian fleet entered range. Here and there the brilliant beam of an axial superlaser flashed smashed against shields or sliced through armour. The missiles were now precision-targeted, unleashing their payloads on ships with tremendous effect. But hypometric weapons were not so flashy. In fact, there was no sign they were firing at all. No beams, no trails, no shells, no trace whatsoever. It was only when the massive bulk of the Varangian hyperdreadnought emerged that their effects became visible. Her fore end was a crumpled mess, deformed and warped where the micro-singularities had torn her into her, crippling her devastating Dust Cannon. But Black Zenith was still a long way from dead, and she opened fire with her endless weapon banks even as her shields reestablished themselves. Fighters and bombers came swarming out of her hangar bays, joining squadrons already disgorging from Sicarius Dreadnaughts. The Commonwealth began launching strikecraft of their own, a few squadrons from each of their larger vessels, and a veritable swarm from Queen Catherine’s massive hangars. The space between the two fleets was rapidly filled with small craft chasing eachother down, fighting and dying in bright pinpricks of light.
Admrial Konig watched the battle on his main display intently. The range was closing rapidly, an understandable move on the Varangians part. Their massed cannon batteries were most effective at close range, and they remembered precisely how to fight Commonwealth formations. Hanging around at long range was not an option when fighting the RCN, especially now with improvements to their missiles and their new hypometric weaponry. It was essential to close to a more threatening range, forcing them to turn their broadsides to permit maximum defencive fire from the railgun batteries, which in turn cut off the use of their axial weapons and their other broadside’s missile tubes. Konig watched the Varangians approach; their technology hadn’t changed much in the last hundred years, they’d been too busy desperately fighting off the Alorians. As a result, the numbers Konig had on their effective weapon ranges were still fairly accurate. He’d decided to assume a 20% increase in effective range, just to be on the safe side; a sphere corresponding to that assumption was displayed around the Varangian formation.
“Comms, signal all ships to prepare for Hornet,” he said calmly.
The projected sphere inched closer to 5th fleet’s leading ships. Closer and closer the Varangians came, until…
“Execute Hornet...now.”
The Commonwealth formation abruptly shifted. In a traditional formation, the battleships and dreadnaughts formed what was called a wall of battle, a solid barrier of tightly packed warships massing their fire. Lighter fleet elements meanwhile would normally form up slightly ahead of the wall as a defensive screen, contributing their defensive fire to protect the wall while the heavier ships focused on offensive fire. This did make the lighter units easier targets, but they were targets no adversary could afford to waste time on while the wall of heavy units was pummeling them to death.
The newer Hornet formation, developed largely by Admiral Adison Volkov when he’d commanded 5th fleet, had some key differences. The wall still formed up as the heavy units turned their broadsides, but it was more loosely formed than usual. The light units did not advance to form the screen, nor did they turn their broadsides, but kept on firing with their axial weapons and double salvos of missiles as they pulled back between the gaps in the wall. The heavy units dedicated their broadside railgun batteries to massed defencive fire, covering both themselves and the light units. It was a much more defence heavy formation than the conventional wall, but the offensive fire available was considerably more precise. It also suited Konig’s objectives better; he was determined to bring home as many of his people as possible. If Black Zenith’s Dust Cannon had still been operational, Konig could never have afforded to use Hornet; the monstrous weapon would have casually ignored all his defensive fire and easily swatted his ships aside one by one. With the weapon out of commision though, Hornet was much more viable, and it was working.
The Varangians preferred massed fire of older style high explosive cannon shells, with only a few of their units firing energy weapons. An effective defence against both kinetic rounds and energy weaponry was the RCN’s graviton flak round, fired in huge numbers from broadside railgun batteries to generate almost a second layer of defence further out from the ship. Graviton flak in no way resembled actual flak, but the name had stuck. Instead, the rounds generated localized gravitational distortions when they exploded. These distortions, individually weak but collectively quite powerful, were sufficient to nudge enemy fire off course and away from the target ship.
Konig watched in satisfaction as his fleet slipped into their carefully drilled positions. The axial weapons of his light units weren’t as powerful, but they still did plenty enough damage, and orientation of those units let them continue to fire double salvoes of missiles. Better still, he was suffering very few losses. The fact of the matter was that this was an isolated battle against what was essentially a rogue fleet, not a war. In war, heavy casualties were expected, justifiable, and accepted. In an action such as this, not so much.
Further aft, on Queen Catherine’s main bridge, Captain Dimitri Marsovna was in charge of running the ship itself. Tucked away behind the main wall of battle, Queen Catherine wasn’t actually capable of bringing much of her firepower to bear. She was largely limited to her hypometric arrays and her missiles, with the occasional blast from her positron cannons carefully slipped between. Even her missiles, however, were being handed off to other ship’s fire control after they launched, to better avoid friendly fire. As Flag Captain, Marsovna was Konig’s tactical deputy, and could be put in command of the fleet at a moment’s notice if the right (well, wrong) circumstances arose. But in their current formation, he was instead serving the needs of other ship’s captains as his ship loaded, fired, and handed off control of missiles. The battle chatter of the bridge was almost soothing to Marsovna’s ears.
“Captain Dillinger requests plasma warheads from our next salvo”
“Captain Vannerick has an opening for us, requesting positron cannons fire on a Varangian cruiser”
“501st bombers need to re-arm, prepare for incoming micro-jumps.”
Then one voice broke through the calm chatter; the tactical officer.
“Captain! FTL signatures off to port!”
Marsovna sat bolt upright. The wall of battle was deployed to starboard; the FTL signatures were coming in from their unprotected flank, with only a handful of light ships in the way.
“Details, what are we looking at Tac?”
“I make it two Sicarius Dreadnoughts with multiple light escorts, inbound at high speed...they’re not launching fighters, must have them already committed against ours out in the fuzzball” the tactical officer replied, referring to the tangle of intermingled strike craft fighting between the two fleets.
Marsovna nodded. In the case of a direct threat to the flagship, he was authorized to give any orders he liked unless Admiral Konig stipulated otherwise.
“Have Batrons 10 and 20 ready tactical jumps, but wait for my orders to execute. Bring all weapons to bear, split fire evenly between both Sicarius’.”
Queen Catherine, despite her protected position behind the wall of battle, was far from helpless. Her port broadsides opened up with everything they had: multiple positron beams blasted away from her dorsal and ventral turrets, countless missiles streaked outwards and a storm of railgun fire went with them. Then her hypometric weapons joined in, with no regard for the conventions of range or line of sight. The two Varangian dreadnoughts’ shields’ lit up as they struggled to deflect the massive barrage, but they kept coming. They closed to range, and opened up with their cannon batteries. The Commonwealth Star Carrier was in full offensive fire, and her shields took the full impact of the Varangian cannons. The ship groaned and rumbled, her shields strained to hold up under the withering stream of fire. Marsovna gritted his teeth, but kept waiting. There, the Sicarius’ shields were beginning to buckle.
“Batron 10 and 20, tactical jump to actual defence point alpha now! Target their FTL drives!”
Four dreadnoughts and four battleships abruptly flashed out from the edges of the wall of battle and reappeared behind the Sicarius’, boxing them in against Queen Catherine and immediately opening fire. The sudden additional fire wiped away the two dreadnoughts shields, and positron beams melted through armour and slashed across their engines.
“Sir, they’re immobilized!” Tactical reported jubilantly.
“Finish them.” Marsovna replied with grim determination.
The CSC and the newly relocated capital ships tore away at the Varangian dreadnoughts with everything they had. The hypometric weapons pummeled deeper and deeper into the armour, placing their deadly micro-singularities with lethal accuracy, until one pierced the core hull in a very inconvenient place. One Sicarius blew up in a fantastic explosion, and her now unshielded compatriot took the brunt of the blast across her starboard armour. The Commonwealth ships did not let up, pounding away until a positron beam sliced through the remaining dreadnought’s core hull and split the vessel neatly in two, leaving it a wrecked hulk, spewing atmosphere and lifepods.
“Get SAR birds out there for the survivors, then bring us back into the fleet’s fire plan.”
Konig watched the two dreadnoughts disappear from his display, and made a mental note to congratulate Marsovna on his excellent handling of the threat. He returned his attention to the dwindling Varangian fleet. They were taking losses far more rapidly than his own ships, which was to be expected. They were old, tired vessels, in service for far too long and no opportunity for proper shipyard maintenance in years. Even Black Zenith was showing her age. Her shields were completely out now, and the Commonwealth fleet was tearing into her savagely. Her cannon batteries began to fall silent one by one as missiles and positron beams blasted them away. Konig watched, almost sadly.
“Switch the Wall to full offensive fire. Let’s put her out of her misery.”
Every battleship and dreadnought in the fleet switched to full offensive fire as one, their railguns no longer spewing graviton flak but instead hypervelocity tritanium slugs, all of it focused on Black Zenith. The Empress class hyperdreadnought buckled and groaned under the relentless fire. An axial superlaser sliced off one of the spikes amidships. A hypometric singularity crippled her engines. The storm of railgun slugs scoured her surface, wiping away every sensor array and communications system. Finally, she could take no more. An explosion burst out of her hull, followed by a chain of them rippling up her spine. Still, 5th Fleet did not relent. In the end, it was a single lucky missile. The missile had lost target lock and flown off course, but reacquired lock as before it was too far gone. It swooped down over Black Zenith and detonated at standoff range, hurling a charge of superheated plasma down into the hyperdreadnought. The charge just happened to be projected right into a hole in the armour. It blasted through the core hull, melting everything in its path, and it just happened to brush the casing of Black Zenith’s primary reactor.
The hyperdreadnought simply vanished in a massive fireball. Seven nearby Varangian ships were annihilated by the blast, and a dozen more were damaged. But that hardly mattered. The last Varangian warfleet’s back was broken, 5th Fleet could easily mop up the remnants. Black Zenith was dead.
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