Sector 44 (last updated 26th of July 2008)
Moderators: TheElf, Moderators for English X Forum
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
Here's the next part, and thx for the comments Zig.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The battle raged on.
It had been thirty minutes since Vanessa had started the evacuation in motion, but still only a quarter of transports had either been fully loaded or successfully made it out of the system. Occasionally a fighter or two broke the defensive perimeter and took a transport with it before being destroyed by one of the three squadrons hanging behind to take care of perimeter breaches.
The evacuation fleet consisted of all different TP class ships. The split variants seemed to be having more speedy success. Not surprising, thought Vanessa.
She was overlooking the battle through the Herra’s large, glass viewports. Statistically, the two forces were relatively even. Two Colossus’ and three Titans accompanied a Teladi Condor and a Boron Shark in attempting to hold off the enemy forces.
The Born Shark Boshani’bo, meaning Great Peacekeeper in Boron, was attempting to draw back from the fight. Its shields had collapsed and it was taking grievous hull damage.
“They’re focusing fire on the Shark. I’m going to help out.”
Tate was quick to correct her. “No. Leave it. Let the fighters handle the situation.”
“It’ll be torn apart. The fighters can’t do anything to stop the cap ships. We have to do something.”
Tate scratched his chin, as if contemplating his words. “See that cruiser directly ahead?” He pointed to an arrow shaped mass of steel about eight hundred meters long. It was slightly ahead of the enemy’s perimeter.
“What about it?”
“As soon as you move the Herra out of position, that ship will advance quickly and start attacking the transports.”
“I – I see.”
Vanessa struggled to submit herself to tactical thinking. It was hard not to think about the hundreds of Boron lives that were about to be snuffed out.
************************************************************************
The Ventrix Fury shot out of one of the Herra’s starboard launch tubes, along with Seth Ventrix, its pilot. He loved the thrill of exiting the launch tube at high velocity into the heat of battle, even more so in his brand new Nova Raider. Seth was itching to get into combat after being out of action for a while.
Seth and Conroy Jansen, one of his long time wing mates, met up in a double formation, both in the same ship type. Jansen’s fighter was named the ‘Confiscator,’ and Seth had made fun of it ever since he got that ship. Jo would have been there with them but he was on a mission on the planet. Shame he’s not here.
They simultaneously climbed up and over the Herra and gave their modified thrusters a massive boost otherwise not possible on a stock thruster system. Seth had upgraded his engines, not the normal way, but by completely replacing the original system with a Terracorp UB-18 plasma/ion system, restricted only to elite special forces pilots. It was a combination of two supercharged plasma thrusters with another, single engine that used the new experimental ion drive. It caught everyone’s eye, something that made Seth very proud. The top half left a short trail of blood red plasma, and the bottom section emitted brilliant blue light.
Conroy used a similar system, although his Nova used all plasma drives, allowing for more common refuelling techniques, as both fighters consumed heavy amounts of coolant and reactor fuel. Despite that, the combat advantage Seth had by being able to push his fighter’s speed to over forty percent more than the normal, fully upgraded, Nova Raider at full boost was invaluable.
The battle unfolded before their eyes. All kinds of weapons were flying between the two sides. Everything from PPCs to armour piercing missiles to electro-magnetic pulse cannons. The two fighters had a closed comm channel between them.
“Hey Con, let’s head over to that Boron carrier, see if we can pick up some strays.”
Jansen replied, after a longer than usual delay, “Sure thing. Line formation.”
Seth laughed, but was soon silenced watching the Boron ship as it split in two. It separated in the middle, and the two halves slowly floated away from each other, propelled by the explosion that had set them apart and leaving trails of boron bodies. It was never nice to see something like that but Seth had learned to live with it in his career as a pilot. The Kha’ak invasion had hardened just about everyone in the known Universe.
As they approached, the rear section of the dead ship started to flare with explosions on the hull.
Seth spoke up. “Careful of the – ”
Suddenly, the main reactor on the rear part of the Shark blew spectacularly, sending superheated debris and plasma everywhere in a kilometre radius around it.
A chunk of hull the size of his ship impacted on Conroy’s right wing, knocking him off course.
“…debris…” Seth trailed off. “You ok?”
“My shields took most of it, but I got a bit of work for the panel beaters when I get back.”
“Just make sure you get back,” replied Seth, a hint of concern in his voice.
“What’s there to worry about? I don’t – ”
“Fighters! Inbound!”
Three medium fighters began firing at point blank range. Seth pulled the trigger just in time for four of his five plasma throwers to impact on the closest fighter before they passed between him and his wing mate. The cockpit canopy erupted into flames and the ship started spiralling away leaving a trail of fire from the oxygen-filled cockpit.
The two pairs pulled up and turned around for another run. The enemy shot first, and too early. Seth easily strafed and twisted his ship, leaving the enemies lasers to fly harmlessly past. He then switched to mass drivers and targeted the thin metal beam connecting his opponent’s left wing to the main structure. In a couple of hits it broke off, and so did the fighter, attempting to travel back to safety in a spiralling frenzy.
It didn’t get far before Conroy’s plasma turned it in to space dust.
The third fighter learned slightly from his partners’ mistakes, but in the end both Seth’s and Conroy’s plasma throwers converged on the same point in space turning the last fighter into space dust in one, clean explosion.
They travelled deeper into the battle zone, traversing the horribly dangerous section of space between the two lines of capital ships. Seth’s comm beeped, indicating that he was being hailed. It was from the Herra.
“Ventrix Fury here,” said Seth.
He could barely hear what the comm officer was saying over all the static. “Lieutenant Ven…Captain Forge requests…you and your wing mate…take out…cruiser.”
“Which cruiser was that?” he replied.
“I’ll update…friend/foe system. Please comply.”
“Will do, command. Ventrix out.”
Within a few seconds Seth’s computer beeped indicating an update in the database. He checked his sensor array and found the foremost cruiser in the enemy’s perimeter marked white. He broke off from his original trajectory and angled toward it.
“Where’re you going?” asked Conroy, reluctantly following in his ship.
“We’ve been asked to take out that cruiser ahead.”
“What? Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“We’ll find a way.”
“I can’t wait,” replied Jansen, sarcastically.
************************************************************************
“There we go, all bandaged up.”
Dan had finished wrapping up Jo’s wound and injecting him with painkillers he salvaged from the underwater wreck of the Disco.
Jo started to lift himself up off the floor, still wincing slightly. “Thanks.” He walked over to what looked like the pilot’s seat and placed himself down. “Now, how do you fly this piece of junk?”
Dan walked over, frowning.
“What?” asked Jo in an innocent voice.
“You’re in no condition to pilot, let alone an alien ship.”
“Why not? It should be easy enough.”
“I don’t care how easy it is but I won’t be flown around by someone with only one good arm.”
Jo thought for a moment, contemplating Dan’s argument. Finally, he looked up. “You’re right. Neither do I.”
Jo got up and moved to the co-pilot’s chair, and Dan sat where Jo had just been and moved the chair closer to the controls.
“Thank you. Now, how do you fly this thing?”
************************************************************************
The pair of fighters accelerated at full speed, only to see a bunch of enemy fighters approaching dead ahead to meet them before they met the cruiser.
“Fighters, dead ahead,” said Conroy.
“I see ‘em,” replied Seth.
As they got closer, Jansen counted six fighters in total, a half squadron. One looked different than the others, containing more cannons and missile tubes, evidently the leader.
Seth chuckled sinisterly over the comm. “Say hello to my little friend.”
A hurricane missile shot out of the Nova’s central missile tube. It left a long train behind it and sped toward the cluster of fighters.
“Slow down, Con,” said Seth. “You don’t want to be anywhere near when this baby goes off.”
Jansen ignored his command. “Should be right, it’s only a hurricane.”
“Slow down. This ain’t any ordinary hurricane missile.”
Conroy pulled the thruster control down to half power. “Whatever you say,” he said, puzzled.
The fighters were a kilometre away from the duo. The missile was two hundred metres away from the fighters. One second passed. It detonated in the centre of the pack, sending them all out of control. But there was still something there, a part of the missile. Suddenly, it erupted into a massive electric explosion five hundred metres in diameter. Veins of lightning connected with the fighters, making them jolt and shudder.
Eventually, the tempest of lightning died down and Seth and Con advanced through the pack of motionless ships.
“That was…err…well, that was pretty cool,” said Conroy in awe.
“An EMP of sorts.”
“And a fancy one at that. You’ve got more tricks in that new ship of yours than I thought.”
“You know what else it does?”
“Enlighten me.”
“It hacks into surrounding enemy ships and initiates their self destruct sequence.”
The half squadron they had just passed exploded all at once.
“Man I love my job,” said Seth, his spine tingling with excitement.
Three more heavy fighters materialised behind them and started taking pot shots. They were within firing range of the cruiser now, and close enough to start attacking it themselves.
“Break off and start on the cap ship, Con. I’ll deal with these fighters.”
“Sure thing.” Jansen broke off and started towards the rear of the ship, towards the shield generator. “Be careful.”
The whole ship was like a big arrowhead, with three round thrusters at the back and towers extending from both the top and bottom sections. The hanger entrance was located on the underside, slightly ahead of the bulkhead. The bulkhead was where Con’s target was, or, more specifically, the two small, pointy masses that extended from it at the end. His computer identified those two objects as dual shield generators.
“Computer, target enemy substructure at point three oh two alpha.”
“Order complied. Object targeted. Distance: five hundred metres. Integrity…”
He ignored the voice and fired his mass drivers. They shot forward and punched little, sparking holes in the target. He kept firing till he had to stop to go around his target. After going about half a kilometre past the first generator, Conroy turned back around for another run. The bullets impacted on the undamaged side, some coming out the other end. After a few hits it exploded in energy discharge. Conroy used the remaining seconds to hit his other target before again flying past. He briefly checked his sensors. They showed the shield strength of the cruiser to be at fifty percent.
One of the gunners had smartened up and was now firing at Con, making his job a whole lot more difficult. He decided to take out the turret first. He lined up his guns at point blank range and fired his mass drivers. Most shells went harmlessly astray, but one lucky shot flew right into the barrel.
It must’ve hit something important because the explosion was small but quick and intense, sending shrapnel in all sorts of directions.
Now he could focus back onto his original target. He twisted his ship around only to find Seth pouring in the final shots that were to be the generator’s end.
“Nice shooting.”
“Now let’s bring this ship down!”
Seth boosted his thrusters and angled up around the cruiser’s port side. He reappeared on the starboard side and dived back under, heading toward the hangar.
“What are you doing?” asked Jansen.
“I’m gonna take this baby out from the inside.”
“Good idea.”
The hangars blast doors disintegrated under Seth’s plasma and he disappeared inside.
“Cover me,” he said.
“Will do.”
The inside was nothing like Seth had ever seen before in his life, nor what he had imagined. The whole hangar was about four hundred metres long, and probably held around thirty ships in its side mounted launch racks. It didn’t give Seth much room – or time.
He armed his first Hornet missile and fired it toward the far corner. He’d disabled the automatic detonation system and replaced it with a timer. It ricocheted off the wall a few times before falling slowly to the floor.
Seth brought his ship to a halt and fired three more missiles at strategic detonation points. Finally, he turned to face one of the launch tubes that the fighters came out of and gunned his engines. He’d have to have exact timing if he was to get out of this one alive. As he approached, he placed one hand of the missile firing button and armed his last Hornet.
30 metres. Sweat started falling down his face. 20 metres. His hands started shaking. 10 metres. He was getting closer. Finally, he brought his hand down.
Jansen was idly floating around the cruiser, firing the odd shot toward an enemy fighter or corvette. His eyes drifted toward the cruiser once more. Suddenly, a blast door on the starboard side blew open and Seth’s Nova shot out at full speed.
“Hey, you made it,” exclaimed Con.
“Turn your ship around! Get the baka out of here!”
Conroy did so just in time, pushing the thruster controls past the safety limit as far as they could go. He was crushed against his seat almost unbearably, the compensators at their limit. The ship started to barrel roll.
He barely noticed the nuclear blast behind him, the shockwave only adding more speed to his already out of control ship.
Seth’s voice boomed over the comm. “Woo-hoo!”
************************************************************************
Vanessa observed the explosion from a safe distance aboard the Herra. The surrounding enemy ships were all effected. Some fighters were thrown violently onto the hulls of bigger ships. Spectacular though it was, it was only a minor victory.
The ensign’s voice broke the silence of the bridge. “Captain, our shields are starting to weaken, and some of our guns are overheating. I’m picking up several minor hull breeches caused by armour-piercing missiles.”
“Any casualties?”
“No, not so far, sir. I suggest we re-route some power to shields, though.”
Vanessa though about it for a few seconds. “Do so, ensign, and have our defensive turrets pick missiles as the number one priority. Open a channel to all the other capital ships. Tell them to spread out the perimeter now that target alpha has been destroyed.”
“Yes sir.”
Vanessa turned to Tate, who was leaning over a monitor. “What’s the evac situation?”
“Seventy percent complete. We’ve lost ten percent of outbound shuttles so far.”
Vanessa groaned in disappointment.
This was a battle they could not win.
************************************************************************
Fleet Admiral Tyr sat in his office observing the confrontation from a remote Terran sensor satellite near the Omicron Lyrae system. One of his aides, Colonel Qubek materialised behind him.
“Ah. Greetings, Colonel.”
“Sir.” He saluted.
A long pause followed.
“What is your resolve regarding…err…” He gestured toward the monitor.
Tyr sighed a long, heavy sigh, and at the same time the monitor showed several new alien ships jumping in as reinforcements. “Let them be. The battle is lost, and they know it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The battle raged on.
It had been thirty minutes since Vanessa had started the evacuation in motion, but still only a quarter of transports had either been fully loaded or successfully made it out of the system. Occasionally a fighter or two broke the defensive perimeter and took a transport with it before being destroyed by one of the three squadrons hanging behind to take care of perimeter breaches.
The evacuation fleet consisted of all different TP class ships. The split variants seemed to be having more speedy success. Not surprising, thought Vanessa.
She was overlooking the battle through the Herra’s large, glass viewports. Statistically, the two forces were relatively even. Two Colossus’ and three Titans accompanied a Teladi Condor and a Boron Shark in attempting to hold off the enemy forces.
The Born Shark Boshani’bo, meaning Great Peacekeeper in Boron, was attempting to draw back from the fight. Its shields had collapsed and it was taking grievous hull damage.
“They’re focusing fire on the Shark. I’m going to help out.”
Tate was quick to correct her. “No. Leave it. Let the fighters handle the situation.”
“It’ll be torn apart. The fighters can’t do anything to stop the cap ships. We have to do something.”
Tate scratched his chin, as if contemplating his words. “See that cruiser directly ahead?” He pointed to an arrow shaped mass of steel about eight hundred meters long. It was slightly ahead of the enemy’s perimeter.
“What about it?”
“As soon as you move the Herra out of position, that ship will advance quickly and start attacking the transports.”
“I – I see.”
Vanessa struggled to submit herself to tactical thinking. It was hard not to think about the hundreds of Boron lives that were about to be snuffed out.
************************************************************************
The Ventrix Fury shot out of one of the Herra’s starboard launch tubes, along with Seth Ventrix, its pilot. He loved the thrill of exiting the launch tube at high velocity into the heat of battle, even more so in his brand new Nova Raider. Seth was itching to get into combat after being out of action for a while.
Seth and Conroy Jansen, one of his long time wing mates, met up in a double formation, both in the same ship type. Jansen’s fighter was named the ‘Confiscator,’ and Seth had made fun of it ever since he got that ship. Jo would have been there with them but he was on a mission on the planet. Shame he’s not here.
They simultaneously climbed up and over the Herra and gave their modified thrusters a massive boost otherwise not possible on a stock thruster system. Seth had upgraded his engines, not the normal way, but by completely replacing the original system with a Terracorp UB-18 plasma/ion system, restricted only to elite special forces pilots. It was a combination of two supercharged plasma thrusters with another, single engine that used the new experimental ion drive. It caught everyone’s eye, something that made Seth very proud. The top half left a short trail of blood red plasma, and the bottom section emitted brilliant blue light.
Conroy used a similar system, although his Nova used all plasma drives, allowing for more common refuelling techniques, as both fighters consumed heavy amounts of coolant and reactor fuel. Despite that, the combat advantage Seth had by being able to push his fighter’s speed to over forty percent more than the normal, fully upgraded, Nova Raider at full boost was invaluable.
The battle unfolded before their eyes. All kinds of weapons were flying between the two sides. Everything from PPCs to armour piercing missiles to electro-magnetic pulse cannons. The two fighters had a closed comm channel between them.
“Hey Con, let’s head over to that Boron carrier, see if we can pick up some strays.”
Jansen replied, after a longer than usual delay, “Sure thing. Line formation.”
Seth laughed, but was soon silenced watching the Boron ship as it split in two. It separated in the middle, and the two halves slowly floated away from each other, propelled by the explosion that had set them apart and leaving trails of boron bodies. It was never nice to see something like that but Seth had learned to live with it in his career as a pilot. The Kha’ak invasion had hardened just about everyone in the known Universe.
As they approached, the rear section of the dead ship started to flare with explosions on the hull.
Seth spoke up. “Careful of the – ”
Suddenly, the main reactor on the rear part of the Shark blew spectacularly, sending superheated debris and plasma everywhere in a kilometre radius around it.
A chunk of hull the size of his ship impacted on Conroy’s right wing, knocking him off course.
“…debris…” Seth trailed off. “You ok?”
“My shields took most of it, but I got a bit of work for the panel beaters when I get back.”
“Just make sure you get back,” replied Seth, a hint of concern in his voice.
“What’s there to worry about? I don’t – ”
“Fighters! Inbound!”
Three medium fighters began firing at point blank range. Seth pulled the trigger just in time for four of his five plasma throwers to impact on the closest fighter before they passed between him and his wing mate. The cockpit canopy erupted into flames and the ship started spiralling away leaving a trail of fire from the oxygen-filled cockpit.
The two pairs pulled up and turned around for another run. The enemy shot first, and too early. Seth easily strafed and twisted his ship, leaving the enemies lasers to fly harmlessly past. He then switched to mass drivers and targeted the thin metal beam connecting his opponent’s left wing to the main structure. In a couple of hits it broke off, and so did the fighter, attempting to travel back to safety in a spiralling frenzy.
It didn’t get far before Conroy’s plasma turned it in to space dust.
The third fighter learned slightly from his partners’ mistakes, but in the end both Seth’s and Conroy’s plasma throwers converged on the same point in space turning the last fighter into space dust in one, clean explosion.
They travelled deeper into the battle zone, traversing the horribly dangerous section of space between the two lines of capital ships. Seth’s comm beeped, indicating that he was being hailed. It was from the Herra.
“Ventrix Fury here,” said Seth.
He could barely hear what the comm officer was saying over all the static. “Lieutenant Ven…Captain Forge requests…you and your wing mate…take out…cruiser.”
“Which cruiser was that?” he replied.
“I’ll update…friend/foe system. Please comply.”
“Will do, command. Ventrix out.”
Within a few seconds Seth’s computer beeped indicating an update in the database. He checked his sensor array and found the foremost cruiser in the enemy’s perimeter marked white. He broke off from his original trajectory and angled toward it.
“Where’re you going?” asked Conroy, reluctantly following in his ship.
“We’ve been asked to take out that cruiser ahead.”
“What? Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“We’ll find a way.”
“I can’t wait,” replied Jansen, sarcastically.
************************************************************************
“There we go, all bandaged up.”
Dan had finished wrapping up Jo’s wound and injecting him with painkillers he salvaged from the underwater wreck of the Disco.
Jo started to lift himself up off the floor, still wincing slightly. “Thanks.” He walked over to what looked like the pilot’s seat and placed himself down. “Now, how do you fly this piece of junk?”
Dan walked over, frowning.
“What?” asked Jo in an innocent voice.
“You’re in no condition to pilot, let alone an alien ship.”
“Why not? It should be easy enough.”
“I don’t care how easy it is but I won’t be flown around by someone with only one good arm.”
Jo thought for a moment, contemplating Dan’s argument. Finally, he looked up. “You’re right. Neither do I.”
Jo got up and moved to the co-pilot’s chair, and Dan sat where Jo had just been and moved the chair closer to the controls.
“Thank you. Now, how do you fly this thing?”
************************************************************************
The pair of fighters accelerated at full speed, only to see a bunch of enemy fighters approaching dead ahead to meet them before they met the cruiser.
“Fighters, dead ahead,” said Conroy.
“I see ‘em,” replied Seth.
As they got closer, Jansen counted six fighters in total, a half squadron. One looked different than the others, containing more cannons and missile tubes, evidently the leader.
Seth chuckled sinisterly over the comm. “Say hello to my little friend.”
A hurricane missile shot out of the Nova’s central missile tube. It left a long train behind it and sped toward the cluster of fighters.
“Slow down, Con,” said Seth. “You don’t want to be anywhere near when this baby goes off.”
Jansen ignored his command. “Should be right, it’s only a hurricane.”
“Slow down. This ain’t any ordinary hurricane missile.”
Conroy pulled the thruster control down to half power. “Whatever you say,” he said, puzzled.
The fighters were a kilometre away from the duo. The missile was two hundred metres away from the fighters. One second passed. It detonated in the centre of the pack, sending them all out of control. But there was still something there, a part of the missile. Suddenly, it erupted into a massive electric explosion five hundred metres in diameter. Veins of lightning connected with the fighters, making them jolt and shudder.
Eventually, the tempest of lightning died down and Seth and Con advanced through the pack of motionless ships.
“That was…err…well, that was pretty cool,” said Conroy in awe.
“An EMP of sorts.”
“And a fancy one at that. You’ve got more tricks in that new ship of yours than I thought.”
“You know what else it does?”
“Enlighten me.”
“It hacks into surrounding enemy ships and initiates their self destruct sequence.”
The half squadron they had just passed exploded all at once.
“Man I love my job,” said Seth, his spine tingling with excitement.
Three more heavy fighters materialised behind them and started taking pot shots. They were within firing range of the cruiser now, and close enough to start attacking it themselves.
“Break off and start on the cap ship, Con. I’ll deal with these fighters.”
“Sure thing.” Jansen broke off and started towards the rear of the ship, towards the shield generator. “Be careful.”
The whole ship was like a big arrowhead, with three round thrusters at the back and towers extending from both the top and bottom sections. The hanger entrance was located on the underside, slightly ahead of the bulkhead. The bulkhead was where Con’s target was, or, more specifically, the two small, pointy masses that extended from it at the end. His computer identified those two objects as dual shield generators.
“Computer, target enemy substructure at point three oh two alpha.”
“Order complied. Object targeted. Distance: five hundred metres. Integrity…”
He ignored the voice and fired his mass drivers. They shot forward and punched little, sparking holes in the target. He kept firing till he had to stop to go around his target. After going about half a kilometre past the first generator, Conroy turned back around for another run. The bullets impacted on the undamaged side, some coming out the other end. After a few hits it exploded in energy discharge. Conroy used the remaining seconds to hit his other target before again flying past. He briefly checked his sensors. They showed the shield strength of the cruiser to be at fifty percent.
One of the gunners had smartened up and was now firing at Con, making his job a whole lot more difficult. He decided to take out the turret first. He lined up his guns at point blank range and fired his mass drivers. Most shells went harmlessly astray, but one lucky shot flew right into the barrel.
It must’ve hit something important because the explosion was small but quick and intense, sending shrapnel in all sorts of directions.
Now he could focus back onto his original target. He twisted his ship around only to find Seth pouring in the final shots that were to be the generator’s end.
“Nice shooting.”
“Now let’s bring this ship down!”
Seth boosted his thrusters and angled up around the cruiser’s port side. He reappeared on the starboard side and dived back under, heading toward the hangar.
“What are you doing?” asked Jansen.
“I’m gonna take this baby out from the inside.”
“Good idea.”
The hangars blast doors disintegrated under Seth’s plasma and he disappeared inside.
“Cover me,” he said.
“Will do.”
The inside was nothing like Seth had ever seen before in his life, nor what he had imagined. The whole hangar was about four hundred metres long, and probably held around thirty ships in its side mounted launch racks. It didn’t give Seth much room – or time.
He armed his first Hornet missile and fired it toward the far corner. He’d disabled the automatic detonation system and replaced it with a timer. It ricocheted off the wall a few times before falling slowly to the floor.
Seth brought his ship to a halt and fired three more missiles at strategic detonation points. Finally, he turned to face one of the launch tubes that the fighters came out of and gunned his engines. He’d have to have exact timing if he was to get out of this one alive. As he approached, he placed one hand of the missile firing button and armed his last Hornet.
30 metres. Sweat started falling down his face. 20 metres. His hands started shaking. 10 metres. He was getting closer. Finally, he brought his hand down.
Jansen was idly floating around the cruiser, firing the odd shot toward an enemy fighter or corvette. His eyes drifted toward the cruiser once more. Suddenly, a blast door on the starboard side blew open and Seth’s Nova shot out at full speed.
“Hey, you made it,” exclaimed Con.
“Turn your ship around! Get the baka out of here!”
Conroy did so just in time, pushing the thruster controls past the safety limit as far as they could go. He was crushed against his seat almost unbearably, the compensators at their limit. The ship started to barrel roll.
He barely noticed the nuclear blast behind him, the shockwave only adding more speed to his already out of control ship.
Seth’s voice boomed over the comm. “Woo-hoo!”
************************************************************************
Vanessa observed the explosion from a safe distance aboard the Herra. The surrounding enemy ships were all effected. Some fighters were thrown violently onto the hulls of bigger ships. Spectacular though it was, it was only a minor victory.
The ensign’s voice broke the silence of the bridge. “Captain, our shields are starting to weaken, and some of our guns are overheating. I’m picking up several minor hull breeches caused by armour-piercing missiles.”
“Any casualties?”
“No, not so far, sir. I suggest we re-route some power to shields, though.”
Vanessa though about it for a few seconds. “Do so, ensign, and have our defensive turrets pick missiles as the number one priority. Open a channel to all the other capital ships. Tell them to spread out the perimeter now that target alpha has been destroyed.”
“Yes sir.”
Vanessa turned to Tate, who was leaning over a monitor. “What’s the evac situation?”
“Seventy percent complete. We’ve lost ten percent of outbound shuttles so far.”
Vanessa groaned in disappointment.
This was a battle they could not win.
************************************************************************
Fleet Admiral Tyr sat in his office observing the confrontation from a remote Terran sensor satellite near the Omicron Lyrae system. One of his aides, Colonel Qubek materialised behind him.
“Ah. Greetings, Colonel.”
“Sir.” He saluted.
A long pause followed.
“What is your resolve regarding…err…” He gestured toward the monitor.
Tyr sighed a long, heavy sigh, and at the same time the monitor showed several new alien ships jumping in as reinforcements. “Let them be. The battle is lost, and they know it.
-
- Posts: 38
- Joined: Sat, 4. Nov 06, 10:50
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
Sorry it took a little longer this time but I had a bit of a hickup when I was writing it when I deleted some of it and couldn't get it back so I had to write it all over again.
Thanks Koopar for the comment I'm glad you're enjoying it. All feedback is welcome as always.
Enjoy...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Dad!”
Vanessa embraced her father as soon as he appeared walking down the exit ramp of his shuttle. They were in the VIP hangar section of the Herra. Admiral Jacob Forge had finally arrived back at his ship after difficulties getting past the Omicron Lyrae sector without a jumpdrive from Black Hole Sun. It had been five hours since the entire orbital population of Omicron Lyrae had been evacuated. The remaining defenders had retreated to PNTI Headquarters where they were undergoing minor repairs, obviously for a steep price – traditional Teladi style. A few squadrons of fighters had been left behind to help initiate a resistance effort on the planet. Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen were among them.
“It’s good to see you,” said Jacob. He noticed Tate, Melissa, Jason and several other officers standing a few metres away. “All of you.” He allowed them all to shake his hand and exchange greetings.
Tate was last. He said hello and was about to turn around as Jacob stopped him with a recalling gesture. Jacob leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Tate.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Thank you for guiding Vanessa, Tate. I appreciate it.”
“Oh she didn’t need that much help, sir. She is quite a capable Captain. Perhaps a little narrow minded when it comes to tactical thinking but nothing that can’t be improved.”
“I trust she did well.”
“Very well, sir. It’s a shame you couldn’t be there to see it.”
“Hopefully next time I will.”
Forge suddenly realised that the other officers were rather too politely standing at a distance waiting for something to happen.
He raised his voice to speak to those standing several metres away. “I’d like all officers from the rank of Major upwards to meet in my personal briefing room in ninety minutes.”
************************************************************************
Dan and Jo had finally managed to figure out the basic controls of their captured alien vessel. The engines were quite slow in atmosphere, less than half the speed of the Disco they had previously been in.
It had been several hours since they had departed the crash site to head back towards the mainland and it was now deep into the night.
“We’ve entered visual range of the coastal military base,” said Jo. “Requesting special landing clearance now.”
Dan didn’t respond. He was squinting at something far forward in the distance.
A few negative beeps came out of the ship computer. “Hmm,” said Jo. “No response. I’ll try again.”
Dan raised his hand to stop him. “Jo, wait.”
“Why? What is it?”
Dan pointed forward. “Isn’t that…smoke – and fire?”
“It is too,” replied Jo in a perplexed voice.
Finally, Dan looked back to his display. “We got fighters behind us. I’ve never seen anything like ‘em before.”
Jo leaned across to look at his companion’s monitor. His eye’s widened and he gulped hard. “Those – those are the…” He trailed off in shock. “What are they doing here?”
“One of them is hailing us. Should I receive?”
Jo forced himself to think straight. “No…yes.”
“What?”
“Yes, answer the transmission but don’t say anything.”
“Whatever you say.” Dan pressed a button and a humanoid face appeared on the monitor speaking in an unknown language in a deep, imposing tone. It appeared to be asking a question.
Jo remained silent, gesturing for Dan to do the same. A few seconds passed and the alien repeated his request. Finally, when the pair said nothing, the transmission ceased.
“What was that?!” asked Dan.
Land suddenly appeared beneath them, and a cluster of burning buildings a few kilometres in the distance appeared closer than ever.
“If I said something, they would have figured out that we’re not, err, one of them.”
“One of who?”
“One of the – ”
The ship buckled hard and tilted to one side. Warning alarms sounded everywhere.
“Not that it did much good!” yelled Jo, already unbuckling his restraints. “We’re under fire!”
Dan did likewise as the ship jolted under another impact, sending Jo to the floor and Dan against the control panels.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Jo shouted. He took a glance out of the viewport. “Brace for impact!”
A single, massive jolt sent the both Dan and Jo into the air, only to come back down hard as dirt and gravel started to spray over the viewport and the ship began to come to a grinding halt. They caught sight of chaos outside before sprinting to the bridge exit and down the corridor.
It truly was chaos outside as the duo tumbled out of the exit hatch in their haste. Personnel were franticly running in all directions, the odd blaster bolt taking one down. Most, though were trying to get to the safety of an atmospheric shuttle a hundred metres or so away. Its engines were primed and its defensive anti-personnel cannons were firing at various unseen targets.
Jo barely heard Dan’s cry of “run!” over all the noise. They sprinted across to the cover of a balcony. Blaster fire was everywhere. Jo was impeded by his injured left arm, but still managed not to get all shot up.
When he arrived behind Dan he was hurled to the ground behind a concrete mass by his companion’s hand. Then a deafening blast sent fire and shrapnel over their heads. It took a few seconds for Jo’s hearing to return. When it did, he took the risk of looking up over the cover of the concrete barrier. The alien ship they had arrived in was now nothing more than a hulk of burned metal. A pair of boots were set barely a couple of metres away from the impact – two thin layers of smoke heading upwards.
“Come on,” said Dan. “We can’t stay here.”
Dan got up and started around the corner of their building, hugging the wall and scanning with his eyes. Jo followed. After a minute or so the regularity of the shooting had stopped, and the pair were half way to the escape shuttle. Jo went after Dan around the corner into another covering section of the concrete building. A man was sitting behind a waist-high barrier with his back to the wall. He pulled his blaster on them as soon as they appeared.
“Who are you?!” he said.
Dan put his hands in the air. “Don’t worry. We’re not…”
“…one of them,” Jo finished.
The man hesitantly lowered his pistol, obviously convinced by their voices. “How did you two get here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“We sort of just dropped in,” replied Dan, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“What’s going on here?” asked Jo.
“We were warned of an invasion so we readied the escape shuttles and what not. But it didn’t do much good. There’s a hell of a lot of ‘em out there. That shuttle across the clearing is the only one left.”
“What happened to the others?” said Dan.
“Shot down before they could barely lift off.”
“Don’t we have any air support?” said Jo.
“Most of out anti air turrets have been destroyed, but we still have a couple of M3 space fighters – Novas.”
Dan raised his hand to halt the conversation. “Hang on a sezura here, just who are we dealing with?”
“Beats me,” replied the man. “All I know is that they’re robots not human, or any other race for that matter.”
“Cyborgs,” Jo corrected. “I’ve heard a bit about them. But I don’t know why – or how – they’re here.”
“You mean those blasted aliens from that unknown sector does ya?” said Dan.
“Yes.”
“But to start an invasion on the planet they must’ve…” He trailed off.
“…Wiped out Omicron Lyrae?” said Jo. He looked up to the stars as if he could sense what was going on up there. “Maybe. At least the defences.”
“Anyway, we’ve got to find a way to get to that shuttle.”
“That might be difficult,” said the man. “That whole clearing is covered by enemy guns.”
The shuttle’s gunners and the aliens were still engaged with each other. A fifteen metre, open section of gravel was all that was between them and the shuttle. Occasionally a man would run across and either make it to safety in one piece or get shot – usually the latter.
After a few seconds, the man said, “I got an idea.”
He pulled out his comm link and spoke into it. “This is Conner, report in ES-3.”
“This is ES-3 reporting in.”
“Can you lay some cover fire for me and two others?”
“Negative, Conner. We’re taking off now. The best we can do is lower the forward boarding ramp and slow down a little as we pass you.”
“Ok, fine. We’re near building three – what’s left of it anyway.”
“Good luck. Transport out.”
The shuttle was already in the air and starting to twist to face their position. The engines boomed as they held the fifty metre hulk of the ship in the air. The forward ramp lowered, revealing two men, one on each side, laying fire across to the enemy.
“Get ready,” said Conner, bending his legs slightly to be ready to pounce upwards in a few seconds. Dan and Jo did likewise. The ramp was getting closer as the ship moved forward. It was also moving upwards somewhat. By the time it reached them they’d have to haul themselves up onto the edge.
Finally, it came close enough. Jo jumped up high enough to get his upper torso onto the surface of the ramp. He flung his legs around and pulled himself up, rolling onto the panel. Dan was close behind him, but Conner was still attempting to lift himself up with half his body still hanging over the edge.
Sparks rained down upon them as some lucky alien sharpshooters blew scorching holes in the steel plating above them. Even at this distance, the enemy ground forces were making a last ditch effort to stop the last three people escaping. Jo and Dan finally made it to the top and took cover inside. Conner had only just pulled himself up.
He stood – which was a mistake. A blaster bolt hit him on the thigh and he collapsed flat, clutching his leg with one hand and barely gripping the ramp with the other.
“Close the ramp!” Jo yelled.
One of the two men positioned at the end of the ramp, the one next to the control panel, pressed a button, and it started to lift and seal the gap. Conner was barely hanging on but he was safe from blaster fire. After what seemed like an eternity the ramp closed, not only drawing breaths of relief from those surrounding but muffling the sounds of the blaster fire outside. Jo knelt down at Conner’s side, who was groaning in pain.
“Somebody get a medic,” he said to no one in particular. He lowered his voice. “Thanks for getting us out of here, pal.”
“N-no…problem,” he replied, bringing a faint smile to his face.
Dan returned with a pair of medics. Jo was not aware he had been the one to carry out his order. He stood up and let the medics lift Conner onto their stretcher. Suddenly, the transport buckled under some unseen impact.
Jo heard the pilot yell something about air support. The cockpit was just ahead a few meters down the corridor. He studied the scene in the opposite direction. Around twenty men were either sitting down on the rows of seating or restlessly pacing about. There were four ladders leading to the upper level. Jo concluded two were for the gun turrets, although he didn’t know what the other pair were for. A few soldiers were receiving treatment basic medical treatment for superficial wounds.
Jo decided he would be most useful in the cockpit. It consisted of three seats – one pilot, one co-pilot, and a navigator. Only the pilot’s seat, however, was occupied. Jo started to place himself in the co-pilot’s seat.
The pilot gave him a confused look. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Jo Skillers, at your service. I’m a pilot. Figured I may-as-well put my skills to use here,” Jo replied.
“Good. Greg’s the name. Start plotting a course for area fifty two. It’s in the database.”
“Will do.”
One of the Novas roared past the viewport. Jo recognized it as a Raider class, but the engines were clearly different than most stock editions. It was slightly bulkier, with a half red half blue exhaust trail.
“Who are flying those Novas?” asked Jo.
“Err…” Greg looked down to refer to something on his monitor. “Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen.”
“Ah,” said Jo, a knowing smile coming to his face.
Laser fire lit up the room as an enemy fighter attacked from point blank range directly ahead. The ship shuddered slightly.
“Shields up,” said Greg. He turned the stick to the left, bringing kilometres of coastal cliffs to view. “Jo, have you got that route plotted?”
“Done,” he replied.
Greg pushed a button opening a comm channel to the fighters. “Air support, report in.”
Jo heard two familiar voices sound acknowledgements.
“Right, here’s the plan,” said Greg. “I’ll eject the sonic bomb, sending the fighters into disarray for a few seconds. Make sure you’re clear of the blast. Then you two dock with the transport’s port and starboard clamps. After you’re secure I’ll bring us to mach seven and we’ll be safe. All clear?”
“Got it,” replied Seth.
“Affirmative,” said Conroy.
“Cover your ears,” said Greg.
What happened next was a bit of a blur in Jo’s mind. He was not as familiar with atmospheric conditions, therefore he didn’t know to take Greg’s comment literally. The bomb exploded so loudly even the thick steel walls of the transport could not keep Jo from hearing nothing for the next sixty seconds. Before he knew it, the ship jolted lightly twice, meaning the Nova’s had successfully attached themselves to the shuttle. Then, just as the first few shots of enemy laser fire were starting to return, the view seemed to stretch towards them in the viewport and suddenly they were at supersonic speed. Jo could only imagine what it would be like if there were no inertial compensators.
When his hearing returned, Jo got up and started towards the cockpit exit.
“If you’ll excuse me I got some people to meet,” he said.
“Ok then. I can handle myself here well enough. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
Jo made his way to the rear of the ship, past men and women who were still a bit dazed from the blast, all the way to the two ladders that he had earlier seen – the ones that did not lead to the gunner’s seats. Seth and Conroy had just finished their decent.
“…nice shooting,” Seth was saying. “I still haven’t heard anything from…” His eyes met Jo’s and his jaw dropped. “Jo!”
“Good to see you too, pal,” said Jo.
Jansen advanced to shake Jo’s hand. “Hi, Jo.”
“Where have you been?” asked Seth. “We were starting to worry.”
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story. Let me tell you over a drink. I can introduce you to someone, and you can fill me in on what happened while I was away.”
Thanks Koopar for the comment I'm glad you're enjoying it. All feedback is welcome as always.
Enjoy...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Dad!”
Vanessa embraced her father as soon as he appeared walking down the exit ramp of his shuttle. They were in the VIP hangar section of the Herra. Admiral Jacob Forge had finally arrived back at his ship after difficulties getting past the Omicron Lyrae sector without a jumpdrive from Black Hole Sun. It had been five hours since the entire orbital population of Omicron Lyrae had been evacuated. The remaining defenders had retreated to PNTI Headquarters where they were undergoing minor repairs, obviously for a steep price – traditional Teladi style. A few squadrons of fighters had been left behind to help initiate a resistance effort on the planet. Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen were among them.
“It’s good to see you,” said Jacob. He noticed Tate, Melissa, Jason and several other officers standing a few metres away. “All of you.” He allowed them all to shake his hand and exchange greetings.
Tate was last. He said hello and was about to turn around as Jacob stopped him with a recalling gesture. Jacob leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Tate.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Thank you for guiding Vanessa, Tate. I appreciate it.”
“Oh she didn’t need that much help, sir. She is quite a capable Captain. Perhaps a little narrow minded when it comes to tactical thinking but nothing that can’t be improved.”
“I trust she did well.”
“Very well, sir. It’s a shame you couldn’t be there to see it.”
“Hopefully next time I will.”
Forge suddenly realised that the other officers were rather too politely standing at a distance waiting for something to happen.
He raised his voice to speak to those standing several metres away. “I’d like all officers from the rank of Major upwards to meet in my personal briefing room in ninety minutes.”
************************************************************************
Dan and Jo had finally managed to figure out the basic controls of their captured alien vessel. The engines were quite slow in atmosphere, less than half the speed of the Disco they had previously been in.
It had been several hours since they had departed the crash site to head back towards the mainland and it was now deep into the night.
“We’ve entered visual range of the coastal military base,” said Jo. “Requesting special landing clearance now.”
Dan didn’t respond. He was squinting at something far forward in the distance.
A few negative beeps came out of the ship computer. “Hmm,” said Jo. “No response. I’ll try again.”
Dan raised his hand to stop him. “Jo, wait.”
“Why? What is it?”
Dan pointed forward. “Isn’t that…smoke – and fire?”
“It is too,” replied Jo in a perplexed voice.
Finally, Dan looked back to his display. “We got fighters behind us. I’ve never seen anything like ‘em before.”
Jo leaned across to look at his companion’s monitor. His eye’s widened and he gulped hard. “Those – those are the…” He trailed off in shock. “What are they doing here?”
“One of them is hailing us. Should I receive?”
Jo forced himself to think straight. “No…yes.”
“What?”
“Yes, answer the transmission but don’t say anything.”
“Whatever you say.” Dan pressed a button and a humanoid face appeared on the monitor speaking in an unknown language in a deep, imposing tone. It appeared to be asking a question.
Jo remained silent, gesturing for Dan to do the same. A few seconds passed and the alien repeated his request. Finally, when the pair said nothing, the transmission ceased.
“What was that?!” asked Dan.
Land suddenly appeared beneath them, and a cluster of burning buildings a few kilometres in the distance appeared closer than ever.
“If I said something, they would have figured out that we’re not, err, one of them.”
“One of who?”
“One of the – ”
The ship buckled hard and tilted to one side. Warning alarms sounded everywhere.
“Not that it did much good!” yelled Jo, already unbuckling his restraints. “We’re under fire!”
Dan did likewise as the ship jolted under another impact, sending Jo to the floor and Dan against the control panels.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Jo shouted. He took a glance out of the viewport. “Brace for impact!”
A single, massive jolt sent the both Dan and Jo into the air, only to come back down hard as dirt and gravel started to spray over the viewport and the ship began to come to a grinding halt. They caught sight of chaos outside before sprinting to the bridge exit and down the corridor.
It truly was chaos outside as the duo tumbled out of the exit hatch in their haste. Personnel were franticly running in all directions, the odd blaster bolt taking one down. Most, though were trying to get to the safety of an atmospheric shuttle a hundred metres or so away. Its engines were primed and its defensive anti-personnel cannons were firing at various unseen targets.
Jo barely heard Dan’s cry of “run!” over all the noise. They sprinted across to the cover of a balcony. Blaster fire was everywhere. Jo was impeded by his injured left arm, but still managed not to get all shot up.
When he arrived behind Dan he was hurled to the ground behind a concrete mass by his companion’s hand. Then a deafening blast sent fire and shrapnel over their heads. It took a few seconds for Jo’s hearing to return. When it did, he took the risk of looking up over the cover of the concrete barrier. The alien ship they had arrived in was now nothing more than a hulk of burned metal. A pair of boots were set barely a couple of metres away from the impact – two thin layers of smoke heading upwards.
“Come on,” said Dan. “We can’t stay here.”
Dan got up and started around the corner of their building, hugging the wall and scanning with his eyes. Jo followed. After a minute or so the regularity of the shooting had stopped, and the pair were half way to the escape shuttle. Jo went after Dan around the corner into another covering section of the concrete building. A man was sitting behind a waist-high barrier with his back to the wall. He pulled his blaster on them as soon as they appeared.
“Who are you?!” he said.
Dan put his hands in the air. “Don’t worry. We’re not…”
“…one of them,” Jo finished.
The man hesitantly lowered his pistol, obviously convinced by their voices. “How did you two get here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“We sort of just dropped in,” replied Dan, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“What’s going on here?” asked Jo.
“We were warned of an invasion so we readied the escape shuttles and what not. But it didn’t do much good. There’s a hell of a lot of ‘em out there. That shuttle across the clearing is the only one left.”
“What happened to the others?” said Dan.
“Shot down before they could barely lift off.”
“Don’t we have any air support?” said Jo.
“Most of out anti air turrets have been destroyed, but we still have a couple of M3 space fighters – Novas.”
Dan raised his hand to halt the conversation. “Hang on a sezura here, just who are we dealing with?”
“Beats me,” replied the man. “All I know is that they’re robots not human, or any other race for that matter.”
“Cyborgs,” Jo corrected. “I’ve heard a bit about them. But I don’t know why – or how – they’re here.”
“You mean those blasted aliens from that unknown sector does ya?” said Dan.
“Yes.”
“But to start an invasion on the planet they must’ve…” He trailed off.
“…Wiped out Omicron Lyrae?” said Jo. He looked up to the stars as if he could sense what was going on up there. “Maybe. At least the defences.”
“Anyway, we’ve got to find a way to get to that shuttle.”
“That might be difficult,” said the man. “That whole clearing is covered by enemy guns.”
The shuttle’s gunners and the aliens were still engaged with each other. A fifteen metre, open section of gravel was all that was between them and the shuttle. Occasionally a man would run across and either make it to safety in one piece or get shot – usually the latter.
After a few seconds, the man said, “I got an idea.”
He pulled out his comm link and spoke into it. “This is Conner, report in ES-3.”
“This is ES-3 reporting in.”
“Can you lay some cover fire for me and two others?”
“Negative, Conner. We’re taking off now. The best we can do is lower the forward boarding ramp and slow down a little as we pass you.”
“Ok, fine. We’re near building three – what’s left of it anyway.”
“Good luck. Transport out.”
The shuttle was already in the air and starting to twist to face their position. The engines boomed as they held the fifty metre hulk of the ship in the air. The forward ramp lowered, revealing two men, one on each side, laying fire across to the enemy.
“Get ready,” said Conner, bending his legs slightly to be ready to pounce upwards in a few seconds. Dan and Jo did likewise. The ramp was getting closer as the ship moved forward. It was also moving upwards somewhat. By the time it reached them they’d have to haul themselves up onto the edge.
Finally, it came close enough. Jo jumped up high enough to get his upper torso onto the surface of the ramp. He flung his legs around and pulled himself up, rolling onto the panel. Dan was close behind him, but Conner was still attempting to lift himself up with half his body still hanging over the edge.
Sparks rained down upon them as some lucky alien sharpshooters blew scorching holes in the steel plating above them. Even at this distance, the enemy ground forces were making a last ditch effort to stop the last three people escaping. Jo and Dan finally made it to the top and took cover inside. Conner had only just pulled himself up.
He stood – which was a mistake. A blaster bolt hit him on the thigh and he collapsed flat, clutching his leg with one hand and barely gripping the ramp with the other.
“Close the ramp!” Jo yelled.
One of the two men positioned at the end of the ramp, the one next to the control panel, pressed a button, and it started to lift and seal the gap. Conner was barely hanging on but he was safe from blaster fire. After what seemed like an eternity the ramp closed, not only drawing breaths of relief from those surrounding but muffling the sounds of the blaster fire outside. Jo knelt down at Conner’s side, who was groaning in pain.
“Somebody get a medic,” he said to no one in particular. He lowered his voice. “Thanks for getting us out of here, pal.”
“N-no…problem,” he replied, bringing a faint smile to his face.
Dan returned with a pair of medics. Jo was not aware he had been the one to carry out his order. He stood up and let the medics lift Conner onto their stretcher. Suddenly, the transport buckled under some unseen impact.
Jo heard the pilot yell something about air support. The cockpit was just ahead a few meters down the corridor. He studied the scene in the opposite direction. Around twenty men were either sitting down on the rows of seating or restlessly pacing about. There were four ladders leading to the upper level. Jo concluded two were for the gun turrets, although he didn’t know what the other pair were for. A few soldiers were receiving treatment basic medical treatment for superficial wounds.
Jo decided he would be most useful in the cockpit. It consisted of three seats – one pilot, one co-pilot, and a navigator. Only the pilot’s seat, however, was occupied. Jo started to place himself in the co-pilot’s seat.
The pilot gave him a confused look. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Jo Skillers, at your service. I’m a pilot. Figured I may-as-well put my skills to use here,” Jo replied.
“Good. Greg’s the name. Start plotting a course for area fifty two. It’s in the database.”
“Will do.”
One of the Novas roared past the viewport. Jo recognized it as a Raider class, but the engines were clearly different than most stock editions. It was slightly bulkier, with a half red half blue exhaust trail.
“Who are flying those Novas?” asked Jo.
“Err…” Greg looked down to refer to something on his monitor. “Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen.”
“Ah,” said Jo, a knowing smile coming to his face.
Laser fire lit up the room as an enemy fighter attacked from point blank range directly ahead. The ship shuddered slightly.
“Shields up,” said Greg. He turned the stick to the left, bringing kilometres of coastal cliffs to view. “Jo, have you got that route plotted?”
“Done,” he replied.
Greg pushed a button opening a comm channel to the fighters. “Air support, report in.”
Jo heard two familiar voices sound acknowledgements.
“Right, here’s the plan,” said Greg. “I’ll eject the sonic bomb, sending the fighters into disarray for a few seconds. Make sure you’re clear of the blast. Then you two dock with the transport’s port and starboard clamps. After you’re secure I’ll bring us to mach seven and we’ll be safe. All clear?”
“Got it,” replied Seth.
“Affirmative,” said Conroy.
“Cover your ears,” said Greg.
What happened next was a bit of a blur in Jo’s mind. He was not as familiar with atmospheric conditions, therefore he didn’t know to take Greg’s comment literally. The bomb exploded so loudly even the thick steel walls of the transport could not keep Jo from hearing nothing for the next sixty seconds. Before he knew it, the ship jolted lightly twice, meaning the Nova’s had successfully attached themselves to the shuttle. Then, just as the first few shots of enemy laser fire were starting to return, the view seemed to stretch towards them in the viewport and suddenly they were at supersonic speed. Jo could only imagine what it would be like if there were no inertial compensators.
When his hearing returned, Jo got up and started towards the cockpit exit.
“If you’ll excuse me I got some people to meet,” he said.
“Ok then. I can handle myself here well enough. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
Jo made his way to the rear of the ship, past men and women who were still a bit dazed from the blast, all the way to the two ladders that he had earlier seen – the ones that did not lead to the gunner’s seats. Seth and Conroy had just finished their decent.
“…nice shooting,” Seth was saying. “I still haven’t heard anything from…” His eyes met Jo’s and his jaw dropped. “Jo!”
“Good to see you too, pal,” said Jo.
Jansen advanced to shake Jo’s hand. “Hi, Jo.”
“Where have you been?” asked Seth. “We were starting to worry.”
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story. Let me tell you over a drink. I can introduce you to someone, and you can fill me in on what happened while I was away.”
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
I'm not dead yet!
It's been a while and I've been very busy but the news of X3:TC sort of alarmed me a bit. Imagine if I didn't finish my story before TC was released! Comprehend the horror! The contradictions!
lol In other words I'd rather be finished prior to the release of the climax of the X series and hopefully everything here can be fairly canon.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A fist sized electrical device lay in Tate’s weary hands, underneath his baggy eyes, as he sat droopily over his makeshift workbench. It was oh three hundred standard hours by the Herra’s shift clock. Theoretically more than ninety percent of the crew was sleeping or off duty. The corridors outside Tate’s quarters were devoid of light and no muffled sound of footsteps, chatter, or any other kind of activity could be heard. Tate could recall Argon entertainment companies being onboard the Herra at this time of night to shoot scenes for horror vids.
The calculations had to be precise. Too much additive and the miniature shield generator Tate was working on would cease to generate a stable field. Too little and the shield would no longer be effective against the organic bullets of the alien fighters first encountered when the Nemesis was ambushed in sector forty four.
Tate had been working for many hours, first constructing his initial prototype out of a personal shield generator, then attempting to feed just the right amount of his specially formulated alloy as an additive into it, replacing the stabilizer matter. That was the hard part.
There could only be a small amount of stabilizer matter used in a shield generator at a time. It would only work if the amount was exactly 0.000000006 percent part of the energy field as a whole. But when Tate replaced the ordinary chemicals used with his special alloy, he found out that the calculations were completely different, although still less than one percent.
The process was simple but tedious. Tate would try an amount slightly more accurate than the last. If it was too much the little device would generate a small, green coloured spherical force field around itself, then it would sputter and burn out. If Tate’s calculations were too small, everything would work fine, but so far all the times that had happened when he simulated it’s resistance against the aliens’ ‘organic’ lasers, they had shown little or no effectiveness.
Perhaps it wouldn’t get any better. Perhaps Tate’s own alloy would not turn out to be what he thought. But he still had to keep trying.
He set about another calculation and punched it into the little force field generator. Within a few seconds it started emitting a low humming sound as a green bubble quickly expanded and stopped at about half a metre’s diameter. The humming pitch got higher and higher until the field died yet again.
Tate’s hands involuntarily coded another number of countless digits – his subconscious mind taking control of his consciousness. The spherical surface of energy materialized accompanied by the typical humming. He waited a few seconds…a few seconds more. The field was still there. Tate initiated his energy resistance simulation program. Lines of informative data appeared on the small screen.
Simulation starting_
10…20…30…40…50%…60…70…80…90%…
Simulation complete_
Displaying results…
Energy efficiency: 100%
Tate’s sleepy eyes lit up ever so slightly. This was the first time he had achieved maximum efficiency.
Energy field stability: 100%
A figure like this was expected although this was also the first time the stability had been at its absolute limit. One more perfect figure and the shield would be faultless but that was near impossible. Tate would settle for anything more than fifty percent.
Organic weapon resistance: 74%
The text stayed flashing while Tate unsuccessfully tried to comprehend what lay before him. He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps his half-dead mind was playing tricks on him to get him to go to bed. But the figure still stayed the same – the simulation successful.
Tate was rolling into bed before he knew it – his mind racing. Tomorrow – or today – he would have the first prototypes constructed and engineered into fighters.
Within a few seconds his thoughts stopped and he fell asleep.
************************************************************************
“Dan?” yelled Jo.
“Yeah?” was the reply from somewhere in the shuttle’s aft section.
“I got some people for you to meet.”
“Give me a second…” The rest was too muffled to make out clearly.
Jo, Seth and Conroy were sitting around a small table with their drinks. Jo didn’t know what drinks, just that it was green and it looked a bit like Argnu urine. It was enough to put him off the liquid they had salvaged from the transport’s supplies. Nevertheless Con appeared to be quite enjoying it, being the only one game enough to try it.
“So what’s the situation, guys?” asked Jo.
“Well,” – Seth took a deep breath – “There was a big battle, lots of stuff went boom, lots of people died, but luckily more were evacuated. The stations were completely abandoned when the capitals jumped out.”
“We were part of about a hundred odd fighters sent down to the planet to warn the people and help garrison the main bases,” said Con.
“But what about you?” asked Seth.
Jo related briefly how he had met Dan and the failed mission to recover the spy ship. When he finished the automatic door leading to the engine section opened and Dan emerged. He was covered in oil and grime and smelled like coolant liquid.
“And here he is now,” muttered Jo as Dan approached, his artificial leg providing the only other sound in the room. Jo raised his voice. “Dan, meet Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen, my long-time wingmates.”
“Hello lads,” said Dan. “Dan Pagan’s the name. Pleased to meet you.”
Seth shook his hand first and grimaced slightly at the sight of his newly dirtied hand.
Conroy kept his hands to himself, determined not to make the same mistake. They both exchanged verbal greetings.
Abruptly the shuttle’s intercom sounded at that very moment. It was the pilot. “Please strap into your seat and prepare for landing. ETA five minutes.”
************************************************************************
The sweet sound of fusion cutters, grinders, panel beaters and sparks filled the hangar bay workshop. Tate viewed the scene with anticipation as twelve, relatively new Nova class M3s sat on racks in dry-dock state. Men were swarming around, doing their assigned duties, working on the panel stripped fighters.
“I want a squadron of fighters fitted with the new shield immediately,” Tate had been saying to Jason barely an hour before. “I want them test piloted and then we’ll give them a mission to Omicron Lyrae territory to trial their effectiveness.”
“And if your suspicions are correct?” Jason had asked sceptically.
“If – ” He paused to contemplate his answer. “If they are correct we will mass produce these devices and fit them to all our military ships, from capital to scout fighter.”
************************************************************************
Jo and co exited the shuttle via the forward ramp, accompanied by numerous other surviving soldiers of the massacre they had escaped barely an hour beforehand. Meet-ups were already taking place with a few higher ranked officers from both parties starting to mingle. Tate took his time to examine his surroundings, as did the others. He looked up into the sky. It was partly cloudy, and the backdrop was not the usual blue but rather a, almost fluctuating, green tinge. They were situated in a landing zone. Several other fighters had been set down upon the specialized concrete strips. There were many buildings around their position – most no taller than two or three stories. Tate’s inspection was interrupted abruptly.
“Greetings soldiers,” said the man. He had crept up on them unexpectedly. He was slightly shorter than Tate and wearing the signature of a corporal. With his balding head he was probably a bit old to be a mere corporal.
“Er – yes. Hello,” stuttered Tate.
“I am corporal Jacobs. I believe you four are – ” he looked down to a small note he was holding “ – Jo Skillers, Seth Ventrix, Conroy Jansen and…” He looked at Dan both puzzled and expectantly.
“I’m Dan Pagan,” said Dan dryly.
“Ok Mr Pagan I’ll see that you’re added to our list of refugees.”
Dan nodded to the Corporal, almost uninterested, but Tate already knew him well enough to know that he was annoyed at the man’s response.
“Where are we exactly?” asked Seth.
Jacobs straightened up proudly and brought at smile to his face for the first time. “Part of my assignment is to give you a tour of your new home for the time being. This is Argon military base ex oh forty four of Omicron Lyrae army sector two. It extends about five kilometres around our current position in a circle. We have a planetary scale shield generator that both masks our presence here from all scanners and protects us from any incoming energy such as lasers.”
“Is that the reason for the colour of the sky?” asked Seth.
“Yes it is. There are only two other bases of this type on the planet, and one has already been overrun,” he said more grimly. “I hope we can sustain a valuable resistance effort here.”
An all-terrain four-wheeled vehicle arrived at that moment along with its driver. It had an open area at the back for storage or seating.
“Well, here’s your transport and Sergeant Reynolds will be your guide,” said Jacobs, referring to the driver. The group bare farewell and hopped into the car.
The driver turned to face them. “Hello,” he said with a big grin. His accent was like that of an outsider from the brim systems. The four introduced themselves.
“I’ll be able to show ya’ll round these parts. Let’s get started with the command section.”
************************************************************************
Tate stood watching his squadron full of test fighters in the fighter control room. He was able to analyse the simulation runs from various different angles via monitors. The flight had lasted about half an hour and was almost over. There had been no significant problems so far. All that was left now was the transmission from the flight leader that everything had gone well and according to predictions.
The comm screen lit up to show an incoming communication. The butterflies in Tate’s stomach suddenly seemed to race about much faster.
“This is Flight Leader of Argon Test Squadron five oh seven reporting in. All simulations have been passed with ease. I think we are good to go on a raid to Omicron Lyrae.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feedback would be much apprieciated especially since this chapter took so long to get on the board.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A fist sized electrical device lay in Tate’s weary hands, underneath his baggy eyes, as he sat droopily over his makeshift workbench. It was oh three hundred standard hours by the Herra’s shift clock. Theoretically more than ninety percent of the crew was sleeping or off duty. The corridors outside Tate’s quarters were devoid of light and no muffled sound of footsteps, chatter, or any other kind of activity could be heard. Tate could recall Argon entertainment companies being onboard the Herra at this time of night to shoot scenes for horror vids.
The calculations had to be precise. Too much additive and the miniature shield generator Tate was working on would cease to generate a stable field. Too little and the shield would no longer be effective against the organic bullets of the alien fighters first encountered when the Nemesis was ambushed in sector forty four.
Tate had been working for many hours, first constructing his initial prototype out of a personal shield generator, then attempting to feed just the right amount of his specially formulated alloy as an additive into it, replacing the stabilizer matter. That was the hard part.
There could only be a small amount of stabilizer matter used in a shield generator at a time. It would only work if the amount was exactly 0.000000006 percent part of the energy field as a whole. But when Tate replaced the ordinary chemicals used with his special alloy, he found out that the calculations were completely different, although still less than one percent.
The process was simple but tedious. Tate would try an amount slightly more accurate than the last. If it was too much the little device would generate a small, green coloured spherical force field around itself, then it would sputter and burn out. If Tate’s calculations were too small, everything would work fine, but so far all the times that had happened when he simulated it’s resistance against the aliens’ ‘organic’ lasers, they had shown little or no effectiveness.
Perhaps it wouldn’t get any better. Perhaps Tate’s own alloy would not turn out to be what he thought. But he still had to keep trying.
He set about another calculation and punched it into the little force field generator. Within a few seconds it started emitting a low humming sound as a green bubble quickly expanded and stopped at about half a metre’s diameter. The humming pitch got higher and higher until the field died yet again.
Tate’s hands involuntarily coded another number of countless digits – his subconscious mind taking control of his consciousness. The spherical surface of energy materialized accompanied by the typical humming. He waited a few seconds…a few seconds more. The field was still there. Tate initiated his energy resistance simulation program. Lines of informative data appeared on the small screen.
Simulation starting_
10…20…30…40…50%…60…70…80…90%…
Simulation complete_
Displaying results…
Energy efficiency: 100%
Tate’s sleepy eyes lit up ever so slightly. This was the first time he had achieved maximum efficiency.
Energy field stability: 100%
A figure like this was expected although this was also the first time the stability had been at its absolute limit. One more perfect figure and the shield would be faultless but that was near impossible. Tate would settle for anything more than fifty percent.
Organic weapon resistance: 74%
The text stayed flashing while Tate unsuccessfully tried to comprehend what lay before him. He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps his half-dead mind was playing tricks on him to get him to go to bed. But the figure still stayed the same – the simulation successful.
Tate was rolling into bed before he knew it – his mind racing. Tomorrow – or today – he would have the first prototypes constructed and engineered into fighters.
Within a few seconds his thoughts stopped and he fell asleep.
************************************************************************
“Dan?” yelled Jo.
“Yeah?” was the reply from somewhere in the shuttle’s aft section.
“I got some people for you to meet.”
“Give me a second…” The rest was too muffled to make out clearly.
Jo, Seth and Conroy were sitting around a small table with their drinks. Jo didn’t know what drinks, just that it was green and it looked a bit like Argnu urine. It was enough to put him off the liquid they had salvaged from the transport’s supplies. Nevertheless Con appeared to be quite enjoying it, being the only one game enough to try it.
“So what’s the situation, guys?” asked Jo.
“Well,” – Seth took a deep breath – “There was a big battle, lots of stuff went boom, lots of people died, but luckily more were evacuated. The stations were completely abandoned when the capitals jumped out.”
“We were part of about a hundred odd fighters sent down to the planet to warn the people and help garrison the main bases,” said Con.
“But what about you?” asked Seth.
Jo related briefly how he had met Dan and the failed mission to recover the spy ship. When he finished the automatic door leading to the engine section opened and Dan emerged. He was covered in oil and grime and smelled like coolant liquid.
“And here he is now,” muttered Jo as Dan approached, his artificial leg providing the only other sound in the room. Jo raised his voice. “Dan, meet Seth Ventrix and Conroy Jansen, my long-time wingmates.”
“Hello lads,” said Dan. “Dan Pagan’s the name. Pleased to meet you.”
Seth shook his hand first and grimaced slightly at the sight of his newly dirtied hand.
Conroy kept his hands to himself, determined not to make the same mistake. They both exchanged verbal greetings.
Abruptly the shuttle’s intercom sounded at that very moment. It was the pilot. “Please strap into your seat and prepare for landing. ETA five minutes.”
************************************************************************
The sweet sound of fusion cutters, grinders, panel beaters and sparks filled the hangar bay workshop. Tate viewed the scene with anticipation as twelve, relatively new Nova class M3s sat on racks in dry-dock state. Men were swarming around, doing their assigned duties, working on the panel stripped fighters.
“I want a squadron of fighters fitted with the new shield immediately,” Tate had been saying to Jason barely an hour before. “I want them test piloted and then we’ll give them a mission to Omicron Lyrae territory to trial their effectiveness.”
“And if your suspicions are correct?” Jason had asked sceptically.
“If – ” He paused to contemplate his answer. “If they are correct we will mass produce these devices and fit them to all our military ships, from capital to scout fighter.”
************************************************************************
Jo and co exited the shuttle via the forward ramp, accompanied by numerous other surviving soldiers of the massacre they had escaped barely an hour beforehand. Meet-ups were already taking place with a few higher ranked officers from both parties starting to mingle. Tate took his time to examine his surroundings, as did the others. He looked up into the sky. It was partly cloudy, and the backdrop was not the usual blue but rather a, almost fluctuating, green tinge. They were situated in a landing zone. Several other fighters had been set down upon the specialized concrete strips. There were many buildings around their position – most no taller than two or three stories. Tate’s inspection was interrupted abruptly.
“Greetings soldiers,” said the man. He had crept up on them unexpectedly. He was slightly shorter than Tate and wearing the signature of a corporal. With his balding head he was probably a bit old to be a mere corporal.
“Er – yes. Hello,” stuttered Tate.
“I am corporal Jacobs. I believe you four are – ” he looked down to a small note he was holding “ – Jo Skillers, Seth Ventrix, Conroy Jansen and…” He looked at Dan both puzzled and expectantly.
“I’m Dan Pagan,” said Dan dryly.
“Ok Mr Pagan I’ll see that you’re added to our list of refugees.”
Dan nodded to the Corporal, almost uninterested, but Tate already knew him well enough to know that he was annoyed at the man’s response.
“Where are we exactly?” asked Seth.
Jacobs straightened up proudly and brought at smile to his face for the first time. “Part of my assignment is to give you a tour of your new home for the time being. This is Argon military base ex oh forty four of Omicron Lyrae army sector two. It extends about five kilometres around our current position in a circle. We have a planetary scale shield generator that both masks our presence here from all scanners and protects us from any incoming energy such as lasers.”
“Is that the reason for the colour of the sky?” asked Seth.
“Yes it is. There are only two other bases of this type on the planet, and one has already been overrun,” he said more grimly. “I hope we can sustain a valuable resistance effort here.”
An all-terrain four-wheeled vehicle arrived at that moment along with its driver. It had an open area at the back for storage or seating.
“Well, here’s your transport and Sergeant Reynolds will be your guide,” said Jacobs, referring to the driver. The group bare farewell and hopped into the car.
The driver turned to face them. “Hello,” he said with a big grin. His accent was like that of an outsider from the brim systems. The four introduced themselves.
“I’ll be able to show ya’ll round these parts. Let’s get started with the command section.”
************************************************************************
Tate stood watching his squadron full of test fighters in the fighter control room. He was able to analyse the simulation runs from various different angles via monitors. The flight had lasted about half an hour and was almost over. There had been no significant problems so far. All that was left now was the transmission from the flight leader that everything had gone well and according to predictions.
The comm screen lit up to show an incoming communication. The butterflies in Tate’s stomach suddenly seemed to race about much faster.
“This is Flight Leader of Argon Test Squadron five oh seven reporting in. All simulations have been passed with ease. I think we are good to go on a raid to Omicron Lyrae.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feedback would be much apprieciated especially since this chapter took so long to get on the board.
Last edited by Syndrome on Fri, 4. Apr 08, 05:08, edited 1 time in total.
-
- Posts: 420
- Joined: Sat, 25. Mar 06, 12:52
-
- Posts: 323
- Joined: Thu, 12. Aug 04, 14:04
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
Jo and Co’s vehicle pulled up slowly to a stop beside a small, square building.
“Well, here are your quarters,” said their guide. “They’ll open to any one of your finger prints.”
“Thank you,” said Jo. “I guess this is where our trip ends.”
“Right you are. Tomorrow I can guarantee you four that you’ll be working, doing something – a lot.”
“Oh?” said Dan.
“Yup. I’m sure they’ll find something for you to do ‘cause the rest of your mates will probably be doing patrols.”
“Good for them,” replied Dan in a neutral tone.
Their rooms were on the fifth level. Everything had been painted a matte black. It gave things a very military feel. Nothing but the bare minimum was included. Four beds in four separate rooms about four by two metres. One washroom and one food cooler. They were clearly designed to be the means of living for thousands of soldiers.
The tour had taken them through the main parts of the base. The whole area was too large to cover in an hour. It had a command centre which was simply a small skyscraper with sub-towers for other various aspects of control. The factory block was constantly constructing all war machines from atmospheric fighters to armoured tanks. And there were countless barracks to provide both living quarters and a training section to keep the soldier’s skills up to speed. The shield generator was one of the biggest Tate had ever seen. It was made up of three massive dome projectors that emitted beams too bright to look at with the naked eye. It ensured no energy weapon short of atmospheric bombardment could find its way through. Solid projectiles were covered by one thousand odd ground based burst defence lasers along with a missile jamming network. The shield generator also created a sensor scrambling stealth network which, along with the whole area being camouflaged by the trees, made the base virtually invisible. Four underground power plants provided juice for the whole set up.
This would be their home for the next few days, weeks, months; nobody knew what the future held. No outside communication was allowed. It was a perfect example of what effect wars had on simply everyone and everything.
And the Argon race was truly once again at war.
************************************************************************
“Your assignment is to enter Omicron Lyrae and do whatever damage you can to the enemy,” said Tate. Vanessa’s eyes locked with Tate’s for a moment. He took her hand and they embraced. “You’ve been briefed,” he said. “You know what to do.”
“Thank you,” she replied and left his grasp.
Melissa’s voice broke the silence. “C’mon Van. Everyone’s waiting. The squadron’s engines are hot.”
“I have to go,” said Vanessa. She fitted on her helmet to complete her flight suit.
“Don’t get killed,” said Tate. There was a frightening reality to his comment. “If my shields don’t work…”
“Don’t fret. I’ve seen how they work. We’ll be flaming unlucky if we lose even one pilot.”
“We won’t have any contact…”
“Oh you’re such a pessimist,” Vanessa cut him off with a gentle punch.
Tate added a heavy smile to his worried expression.
“Here’s the deal. If we’re not back after five hours within entering the system that’ll mean the sector is stable enough to bring in the rest of the fleet.”
“It could also mean you’ve all been killed. I just wish I could be with you on this one.”
Vanessa smiled. “We’ve got a crack team of pilots. We don’t need to be saving your bastu every five minutes.”
Tate finally loosened up a little. “Go. Have fun, and call me when you’re done.”
She kissed him and said goodbye.
The hangar suddenly erupted into a deafening chorus of ignition boosters as the squadron of Novas floated into the air and shot out their launch tubes.
************************************************************************
“This is flight leader Forge, all members of Nova squadron report in.”
All pilots gave their acknowledgements.
“Initiate jump sequence in three, two, one.”
The voice of the ship computer instilled premature adrenalin in Vanessa. “Jumping in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one … jumping.”
And they were gone with a flash.
“Well, here are your quarters,” said their guide. “They’ll open to any one of your finger prints.”
“Thank you,” said Jo. “I guess this is where our trip ends.”
“Right you are. Tomorrow I can guarantee you four that you’ll be working, doing something – a lot.”
“Oh?” said Dan.
“Yup. I’m sure they’ll find something for you to do ‘cause the rest of your mates will probably be doing patrols.”
“Good for them,” replied Dan in a neutral tone.
Their rooms were on the fifth level. Everything had been painted a matte black. It gave things a very military feel. Nothing but the bare minimum was included. Four beds in four separate rooms about four by two metres. One washroom and one food cooler. They were clearly designed to be the means of living for thousands of soldiers.
The tour had taken them through the main parts of the base. The whole area was too large to cover in an hour. It had a command centre which was simply a small skyscraper with sub-towers for other various aspects of control. The factory block was constantly constructing all war machines from atmospheric fighters to armoured tanks. And there were countless barracks to provide both living quarters and a training section to keep the soldier’s skills up to speed. The shield generator was one of the biggest Tate had ever seen. It was made up of three massive dome projectors that emitted beams too bright to look at with the naked eye. It ensured no energy weapon short of atmospheric bombardment could find its way through. Solid projectiles were covered by one thousand odd ground based burst defence lasers along with a missile jamming network. The shield generator also created a sensor scrambling stealth network which, along with the whole area being camouflaged by the trees, made the base virtually invisible. Four underground power plants provided juice for the whole set up.
This would be their home for the next few days, weeks, months; nobody knew what the future held. No outside communication was allowed. It was a perfect example of what effect wars had on simply everyone and everything.
And the Argon race was truly once again at war.
************************************************************************
“Your assignment is to enter Omicron Lyrae and do whatever damage you can to the enemy,” said Tate. Vanessa’s eyes locked with Tate’s for a moment. He took her hand and they embraced. “You’ve been briefed,” he said. “You know what to do.”
“Thank you,” she replied and left his grasp.
Melissa’s voice broke the silence. “C’mon Van. Everyone’s waiting. The squadron’s engines are hot.”
“I have to go,” said Vanessa. She fitted on her helmet to complete her flight suit.
“Don’t get killed,” said Tate. There was a frightening reality to his comment. “If my shields don’t work…”
“Don’t fret. I’ve seen how they work. We’ll be flaming unlucky if we lose even one pilot.”
“We won’t have any contact…”
“Oh you’re such a pessimist,” Vanessa cut him off with a gentle punch.
Tate added a heavy smile to his worried expression.
“Here’s the deal. If we’re not back after five hours within entering the system that’ll mean the sector is stable enough to bring in the rest of the fleet.”
“It could also mean you’ve all been killed. I just wish I could be with you on this one.”
Vanessa smiled. “We’ve got a crack team of pilots. We don’t need to be saving your bastu every five minutes.”
Tate finally loosened up a little. “Go. Have fun, and call me when you’re done.”
She kissed him and said goodbye.
The hangar suddenly erupted into a deafening chorus of ignition boosters as the squadron of Novas floated into the air and shot out their launch tubes.
************************************************************************
“This is flight leader Forge, all members of Nova squadron report in.”
All pilots gave their acknowledgements.
“Initiate jump sequence in three, two, one.”
The voice of the ship computer instilled premature adrenalin in Vanessa. “Jumping in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one … jumping.”
And they were gone with a flash.
Last edited by Syndrome on Wed, 2. Apr 08, 00:55, edited 1 time in total.
-
- Posts: 420
- Joined: Sat, 25. Mar 06, 12:52
-
- Posts: 458
- Joined: Mon, 1. Mar 04, 22:59
Just caught up on the last 3 parts! It's really good.
I am slightly confused tho. Possibly I need to read back a bit further. But who's where?
Jo & co were on Omicron Lyrae when the sector was overwhelmed and the planet was attacked, right? Then their escape shuttle dropped them at a hidden military base somewhere on the surface of the (same?) planet, right? And him, with his chums Seth and Conroy, are forming part of a planetary resistance? Where I get confused is: Tate invents a shield; then Tate's with Jo & co, arriving at the base; then Tate's out of the sector, wishing Vanessa luck on entering the sector?
I'm sure I'm missing something completely obvious, and will have to delete this message in utter shame, but for now I just can't see it!! (Sorry!
)
Good luck!
I originally thought I'd have Terraformer Dreams wrapped up long before X3 showed up. We both know how that turned out!
I am slightly confused tho. Possibly I need to read back a bit further. But who's where?
Jo & co were on Omicron Lyrae when the sector was overwhelmed and the planet was attacked, right? Then their escape shuttle dropped them at a hidden military base somewhere on the surface of the (same?) planet, right? And him, with his chums Seth and Conroy, are forming part of a planetary resistance? Where I get confused is: Tate invents a shield; then Tate's with Jo & co, arriving at the base; then Tate's out of the sector, wishing Vanessa luck on entering the sector?
I'm sure I'm missing something completely obvious, and will have to delete this message in utter shame, but for now I just can't see it!! (Sorry!

Syndrome wrote: Imagine if I didn't finish my story before TC was released! Comprehend the horror! The contradictions! Surprised lol In other words I'd rather be finished prior to the release of the climax of the X series and hopefully everything here can be fairly canon.

I originally thought I'd have Terraformer Dreams wrapped up long before X3 showed up. We both know how that turned out!
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
I think it may be just one of my reacuring problems of mixing up Jo's name with Tate's...... again.The Zig wrote:Just caught up on the last 3 parts! It's really good.
I am slightly confused tho. Possibly I need to read back a bit further. But who's where?
Jo & co were on Omicron Lyrae when the sector was overwhelmed and the planet was attacked, right? Then their escape shuttle dropped them at a hidden military base somewhere on the surface of the (same?) planet, right? And him, with his chums Seth and Conroy, are forming part of a planetary resistance? Where I get confused is: Tate invents a shield; then Tate's with Jo & co, arriving at the base; then Tate's out of the sector, wishing Vanessa luck on entering the sector?
I'm sure I'm missing something completely obvious, and will have to delete this message in utter shame, but for now I just can't see it!! (Sorry!)
Syndrome wrote: Imagine if I didn't finish my story before TC was released! Comprehend the horror! The contradictions! Surprised lol In other words I'd rather be finished prior to the release of the climax of the X series and hopefully everything here can be fairly canon.Good luck!
I originally thought I'd have Terraformer Dreams wrapped up long before X3 showed up. We both know how that turned out!

I'll look into it. Thanks for telling me.
EDIT: Yes it's fixed now. I was writing about Tate before that sentence so my mind had 'Tate' instead of 'Jo' in it.
-
- Posts: 458
- Joined: Mon, 1. Mar 04, 22:59
Syndrome wrote:I think it may be just one of my recurring problems of mixing up Jo's name with Tate's


Luckily no one ever saw an entire chapter part where KiwiNZ's character Val (from the excellent Red Glow) gatecrashed my story parading as Lil!


Aaanyway... where's the next part!
I want it!
Good stuff, fella!
ps. I PM'd you earlier. Check your messages!
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
Here's the next part. Views and comments welcome.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Grand coordinator.”
Trsor spun around, aggravated, his tranquil gaze into space interrupted.
“You have something to report?”
“Yes. We have lost several rim patrols in this newly acquired sector – unexpectedly.”
He tensed. “A raiding party.”
“We believe it to be so, but how can you be sure?”
Trsor held out his open palm at his insubordinate underling just long enough to create a look of horror on his face. A blinding white light erupted from his hand and reduced the cyborg to a charred, metallic corpse.
“Never again will you question me, foolish one,” he said slowly.
It felt good to establish his link with his energy source once again. He particularly enjoyed killing humans, and although his latest victim was a mere cyborg, the sight of its dead body refreshed him.
************************************************************************
Green plasma shot out of Vanessa’s Nova and converted her final target to molten slag before more deadly energy floated harmlessly behind it from another direction.
“Next time may I suggest to the flight leader that she allow Miss Bender to get a kill?” said Melissa.”
“Your suggestion has been noted, vice Nova flight leader.” She thought she heard a grumble on the other end of the comm.
“Nice, real nice,” mocked a pilot.
“What’s our next target?” asked another.
“Yeah, I’m sick of shooting down small fry. Besides, these shields work like a dream.”
“Not one scratch on my ship. What genius came up with these things?”
Vanessa smiled. “Alright then. Eny Meny Miny Mo.”
A silence followed.
“So what’s the target?” asked Melissa finally.
“That carrier ship over there by the nearest station,” replied Vanessa.
“What even is that thing?” someone said.
“Dunno. Could be a weapons forge by the looks of it.”
“What the baka have they done to it? It’s all infested or something.”
“Whatever it is, don’t be afraid to let some stray shots hit it,” said Vanessa. “We’ll never get something that – ” she struggled for words “ – changed back.”
Nova flight continued on in silence.
************************************************************************
“And that should do it,” said Jason, dusting off his hands. He had just lifted and placed a seventy kilogram catalyst in the slot where usually the Herra’s shield stabilizer module would be. “It’s all yours,” he said to the engineers. They immediately swarmed over it with tools of all nature. Jason backed off towards Tate who stood with an arm across his chest and another holding his chin – in complete silence.
“What? Aren’t you excited? Now we can fit these babies to the rest of our capital ships.”
Tate blinked. “Mm. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” he replied, apprehensively. “Anyway I’ll be in the armory if you need me.”
Jason wondered off. Tate glanced at his watch. They had been gone for two hours.
************************************************************************
“Shields down! Now burn this baka excuse for a warship.”
Green energy bolts melted, even boiled the exposed hull. Its rear section split off from the rest of the ship. The edges of the split metal glowed white hot, even in the vacuum of space. A Nova took the opportunity to fly in between the two wreckages and fired a few shots into the internal structure before racing off. It started blowing up from the inside before virtually disintegrating to the extent where it could no longer be referred to as a ship.
“I think I hit something important,” said the pilot who had fired the last shots.
“Good job,” said Vanessa.
“Incoming squadron,” said Melissa. “Medium fighters.”
“Gunboat, take ‘em down.”
“My pleasure,” came the response over the comm.
A Nova broke off from the main formation and drifted off towards the enemy position. Five Aurora missiles rocketed out of its tubes. They detonated as soon as they reached their targets. One of the fighters lost its wing and spiralled into the leader, obliterating the two. Another’s cockpit cracked and burst into flames, fuelled by the oxygen. And yet another blew up straight out.
“Clean it up, boys,” said Vanessa.
Nova squadron grouped in an X formation and headed towards their dazed targets. Within seconds the enemy was completely overwhelmed and incapacitated.
“Incoming. Two destroyers and about thirty response fighters. Eleven kilometres.”
“Engage,” said Vanessa. “Damage report?”
The comm remained silent apart from someone clearing their throat.
“Well that’s good to hear.”
Combat lit up the zone of space it was taking place in with missile flares and lasers. Vanessa tore apart one fighter with her lasers before gliding over the surface of one of one of the capital ships, barely a few metres away from its hull. The turrets couldn’t swivel far enough to target her. She switched to mass drivers and literally cut of what looked like a command tower. A missile exited her Nova’s tubes and disappeared into the newly formed hole.
Vanessa yanked her stick up and moved away, glancing at her rear camera display. A flash of light came from where the missile had gone. Suddenly an explosion impacted on the side of the ship from the inside out. All its turrets ceased firing, and its engines’ glow flickered and slowly died down.
“Cap ship disabled,” said Vanessa.
“We might even be able to salvage that hunk of junk.”
Bringing her ship about, back into the fray, Van’s eyes locked on a member of Nova squad being tailed by about ten fighters.
“Help, their tailing me,” he said. “Argh! They’re using armour-piercing missiles. I’m hit!”
She throttled forward but it was too late. A swarm of small, dart-like rockets impacted on his hull, hitting virtually every part of the fighter. The cockpit smashed open and burst into flames as the Nova started to spiral out of control before exploding cleanly from a stream of lasers.
“One down.”
************************************************************************
“Victory, my lord! We have succeeded in destroying one enemy fighter.” He said it like they had won the war.
“Oh? Do you think we sent two warships with a whole fighter complement to destroy one fighter!?” Trsor snapped.
“No – ”
“What are our losses?”
“One cruiser and thirteen fighters so far…”
Trsor’s blood boiled. He felt like lifting up his informer and tossing him through the viewport into deep space. His temper erupted inside him in silence.
“My lord?”
No, self control was necessary. The failure was not this ones fault. There was no need to kill him out of rage. That could be done to actual enemies. He brought back his composure and straightened himself. “Prepare my fighter. Send all available sector forces against these – ” He was about to say “fools.” But no, their success was all due to this shield they had invented. Its creator was a genius. Trsor would have great difficulty countering this new threat. “ – these skilled pilots.”
“At once,” was the reply.
Trsor walked quickly, exiting the bridge, headed for his private hangar.
************************************************************************
“Well, the immediate threat’s over.”
The second battlecruiser was burning and falling towards the planet – in various pieces.
“Uh, leader?”
“Yeah?”
“We got a problem.”
“Oh?”
“More ships incoming.”
“We’ll just take care of them like the rest.”
“When I say ‘more’ I mean quite a bit more.”
Vanessa turned her ship until she was looking at the central part of the sector from her viewport. Every capital ship in sight, of which there were quite a few, more than ten in fact, was accelerating to their position. She looked down to her scanner. A hundred odd blips were closing on them.
“Baka.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Grand coordinator.”
Trsor spun around, aggravated, his tranquil gaze into space interrupted.
“You have something to report?”
“Yes. We have lost several rim patrols in this newly acquired sector – unexpectedly.”
He tensed. “A raiding party.”
“We believe it to be so, but how can you be sure?”
Trsor held out his open palm at his insubordinate underling just long enough to create a look of horror on his face. A blinding white light erupted from his hand and reduced the cyborg to a charred, metallic corpse.
“Never again will you question me, foolish one,” he said slowly.
It felt good to establish his link with his energy source once again. He particularly enjoyed killing humans, and although his latest victim was a mere cyborg, the sight of its dead body refreshed him.
************************************************************************
Green plasma shot out of Vanessa’s Nova and converted her final target to molten slag before more deadly energy floated harmlessly behind it from another direction.
“Next time may I suggest to the flight leader that she allow Miss Bender to get a kill?” said Melissa.”
“Your suggestion has been noted, vice Nova flight leader.” She thought she heard a grumble on the other end of the comm.
“Nice, real nice,” mocked a pilot.
“What’s our next target?” asked another.
“Yeah, I’m sick of shooting down small fry. Besides, these shields work like a dream.”
“Not one scratch on my ship. What genius came up with these things?”
Vanessa smiled. “Alright then. Eny Meny Miny Mo.”
A silence followed.
“So what’s the target?” asked Melissa finally.
“That carrier ship over there by the nearest station,” replied Vanessa.
“What even is that thing?” someone said.
“Dunno. Could be a weapons forge by the looks of it.”
“What the baka have they done to it? It’s all infested or something.”
“Whatever it is, don’t be afraid to let some stray shots hit it,” said Vanessa. “We’ll never get something that – ” she struggled for words “ – changed back.”
Nova flight continued on in silence.
************************************************************************
“And that should do it,” said Jason, dusting off his hands. He had just lifted and placed a seventy kilogram catalyst in the slot where usually the Herra’s shield stabilizer module would be. “It’s all yours,” he said to the engineers. They immediately swarmed over it with tools of all nature. Jason backed off towards Tate who stood with an arm across his chest and another holding his chin – in complete silence.
“What? Aren’t you excited? Now we can fit these babies to the rest of our capital ships.”
Tate blinked. “Mm. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” he replied, apprehensively. “Anyway I’ll be in the armory if you need me.”
Jason wondered off. Tate glanced at his watch. They had been gone for two hours.
************************************************************************
“Shields down! Now burn this baka excuse for a warship.”
Green energy bolts melted, even boiled the exposed hull. Its rear section split off from the rest of the ship. The edges of the split metal glowed white hot, even in the vacuum of space. A Nova took the opportunity to fly in between the two wreckages and fired a few shots into the internal structure before racing off. It started blowing up from the inside before virtually disintegrating to the extent where it could no longer be referred to as a ship.
“I think I hit something important,” said the pilot who had fired the last shots.
“Good job,” said Vanessa.
“Incoming squadron,” said Melissa. “Medium fighters.”
“Gunboat, take ‘em down.”
“My pleasure,” came the response over the comm.
A Nova broke off from the main formation and drifted off towards the enemy position. Five Aurora missiles rocketed out of its tubes. They detonated as soon as they reached their targets. One of the fighters lost its wing and spiralled into the leader, obliterating the two. Another’s cockpit cracked and burst into flames, fuelled by the oxygen. And yet another blew up straight out.
“Clean it up, boys,” said Vanessa.
Nova squadron grouped in an X formation and headed towards their dazed targets. Within seconds the enemy was completely overwhelmed and incapacitated.
“Incoming. Two destroyers and about thirty response fighters. Eleven kilometres.”
“Engage,” said Vanessa. “Damage report?”
The comm remained silent apart from someone clearing their throat.
“Well that’s good to hear.”
Combat lit up the zone of space it was taking place in with missile flares and lasers. Vanessa tore apart one fighter with her lasers before gliding over the surface of one of one of the capital ships, barely a few metres away from its hull. The turrets couldn’t swivel far enough to target her. She switched to mass drivers and literally cut of what looked like a command tower. A missile exited her Nova’s tubes and disappeared into the newly formed hole.
Vanessa yanked her stick up and moved away, glancing at her rear camera display. A flash of light came from where the missile had gone. Suddenly an explosion impacted on the side of the ship from the inside out. All its turrets ceased firing, and its engines’ glow flickered and slowly died down.
“Cap ship disabled,” said Vanessa.
“We might even be able to salvage that hunk of junk.”
Bringing her ship about, back into the fray, Van’s eyes locked on a member of Nova squad being tailed by about ten fighters.
“Help, their tailing me,” he said. “Argh! They’re using armour-piercing missiles. I’m hit!”
She throttled forward but it was too late. A swarm of small, dart-like rockets impacted on his hull, hitting virtually every part of the fighter. The cockpit smashed open and burst into flames as the Nova started to spiral out of control before exploding cleanly from a stream of lasers.
“One down.”
************************************************************************
“Victory, my lord! We have succeeded in destroying one enemy fighter.” He said it like they had won the war.
“Oh? Do you think we sent two warships with a whole fighter complement to destroy one fighter!?” Trsor snapped.
“No – ”
“What are our losses?”
“One cruiser and thirteen fighters so far…”
Trsor’s blood boiled. He felt like lifting up his informer and tossing him through the viewport into deep space. His temper erupted inside him in silence.
“My lord?”
No, self control was necessary. The failure was not this ones fault. There was no need to kill him out of rage. That could be done to actual enemies. He brought back his composure and straightened himself. “Prepare my fighter. Send all available sector forces against these – ” He was about to say “fools.” But no, their success was all due to this shield they had invented. Its creator was a genius. Trsor would have great difficulty countering this new threat. “ – these skilled pilots.”
“At once,” was the reply.
Trsor walked quickly, exiting the bridge, headed for his private hangar.
************************************************************************
“Well, the immediate threat’s over.”
The second battlecruiser was burning and falling towards the planet – in various pieces.
“Uh, leader?”
“Yeah?”
“We got a problem.”
“Oh?”
“More ships incoming.”
“We’ll just take care of them like the rest.”
“When I say ‘more’ I mean quite a bit more.”
Vanessa turned her ship until she was looking at the central part of the sector from her viewport. Every capital ship in sight, of which there were quite a few, more than ten in fact, was accelerating to their position. She looked down to her scanner. A hundred odd blips were closing on them.
“Baka.”
Last edited by Syndrome on Mon, 21. Apr 08, 08:41, edited 1 time in total.
-
- Posts: 728
- Joined: Thu, 2. Feb 06, 09:21
Sci Fi novelists
Nice work Syndrome! I came across your missive by accident and have not stopped reading for an hour. I normally read 1700 pages in 3.5 hours (used to anyway!) so you managed to hold my attention for long enough, even allowing for some of the little inaccuracies. What with your work, The Zigs' work on 'Terraformers Dreams' and KiwiNZ's 'Red Glow' you could probably create a library of sell out novels (e-books?)
Great stuff guys!

Great stuff guys!

Last edited by parameter on Thu, 8. May 08, 08:38, edited 1 time in total.
veneratio supernus omni
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58
Thank you, parameter. It would be an idea to combine our three books. Siege is set as X2 starts. Terraformer Dreams' events occur in between X2 and X3. And Sector 44 is set after X3, and will be before X3:TC.
I could imagine it all, but perhaps it's mere wishful thinking.
But anyway, here's the next part. I did have more in mind for this chapter but I felt it necessary to leave it on this cliffhanger.
EDIT: Ok, nevermind. Hopefully I made this edit quick enough.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Vice leader, can we get a message out?”
“Not unless you don’t mind every comm scanner in the sector listening in.”
Vanessa let her helmet clonk back against the rest. She closed her eyes and exhaled in frustration.
“This would be the perfect time for the fleet to initiate a surprise attack,” said Melissa.
“I know, I know. That’s why we need to contact them. I told Tate to bring the fleet in after five hours if we still haven’t reported back.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s only been two hours.”
“This was only meant to be a raiding mission. Maybe we got a little ahead of ourselves.”
“Mm,” said Vanessa and returned to her thinking. After a few seconds she suddenly smacked her fist against the viewport with an idea. “Why don’t one of us jump out!?”
“We don’t have jumpdrives,” said a pilot.
“Why the baka don’t we?” replied Vanessa, half remembering.
“Tate said we didn’t have room,” answered Melissa.
“Idiot. He was so worried about how the mission would go he overlooks the very likely possibility of counter-attack!” Her voice ended in a crescendo. She sighed.
“Sir?” asked a pilot.
“Yes, four?”
“I volunteer to attempt to exit the system and alert fleet of our predicament.”
“That’s a little bit impossible don’t you think?” said another pilot.
“Yes. The enemy would track you and hunt you down like the dogs they are. You’d be trying to break their perimeter.”
“I understand that. But it’s worth a try and under the circumstances I’d say we don’t have that much choice.”
Vanessa pondered for a moment. He was right. They did only have two options. Stay and try to fight the dozens upon dozens of enemies – or split up and run while a single fighter breaks through the enemy lines and runs through the gate. She did like the latter idea better. It involved more running and more chance of survival – except for, of coarse, Nova pilot number four. If he failed the only chance would to be for Nova flight to flee down to the planet.
“Ok, four. Permission granted. Everyone spread out and hope for the best. Four, wait for us to engage them before heading towards the gate.”
Acknowledgements came from all pilots as they carried out their tasks. The capital ships, along with their fighter complement would be on them in under a minute. Vanessa could feel the tenseness of all members of the flight.
After what seemed like an hour, the first capital ships started firing. Small, barely recognizable energy bolts flew towards them from the distance.
“Four, off you go.”
Four boosted his engines and shot through the first wave of fighters before they knew where he was. His fighter passed the first cap ship as other red blips started closing in on him. Ahead were two destroyers, one on each side. The only way was through the middle as enemy fighters were closing from left and right. Vanessa switched her camera view to overlook his Nova. He was parallel to the front of the destroyers with a swarm of fighters tailing him. His ship started twirling as countless lasers were fired at him, some hitting their mark. Vanessa glanced at her scanner, noticing the state of four’s shields rapidly decreasing. Suddenly, several missiles exited the tubes of the fighters chasing him. Slowly but surely, they were almost upon him as he flew past the edge of the two cap ships. Suddenly, a bright explosion engulfed him. Vanessa’s eyes locked on to her scanner. His blue blip was gone but so were the red one’s around his previous location. The explosion had caused area effect scanner static.
Seconds passed as she glanced back to her view screen and waited for the fiery mass to dissipate. The two larger ships had recoiled slightly. The trailing squadron had already broken off. It appeared the plan had failed, not surprisingly, but abruptly. Vanessa almost completely turned her head away before four’s blip vaguely reappeared on her scanner. She looked back at the live camera to find his Nova shooting through space at maximum speed, its exhaust trails glowing brilliantly. Simultaneous cheers echoed on the comm.
Only at matter of time now.
************************************************************************
“Sir, incoming transmission. High priority.”
“Patch it through immediately,” said Jacob. Normally he would ask who it was but he felt sure it would be something to do with the raiding mission in progress.
Static came through the speakers as the Captain turned towards the main viewport, observing the large image of a fighter pilot coming into focus.
“Captain Forge?”
Who was this? “Speaking,” he replied.
“This is member four of Nova flight. My squadron is being relentlessly chased down by literally every enemy ship is Omicron Lyrae.”
Already?
“Sir, now would be a good time to send in the fleet. We could pin them down against the planet.”
Jacob thought a moment. He felt a little scared about his lack of urgency. “I’ll alert all the ships I can immediately.”
************************************************************************
Trsor leaped into his cockpit and closed the hatch with his neural link. His communication node flashed at him annoyingly.
“What is it?” said Trsor.
“An enemy fighter has broken through our lines. It just exited the system through the west gate.”
An interesting development this was. He could see it all. One fighter leaves to call for reinforcements. Enemy ships pile in through the east south gates, blocking off their escape route. They activate signal jamming devices, to prevent any distress signals. After which they obliterate all the opposing forces with swift firings of the weapons they call Photon Pulse Cannons.
Trsor didn’t take the time to reply. He simply terminated the comm link and fired up his thrusters. His ship jolted heavily as he exited the vacuum shields at a higher-than-normal velocity. A friendly fighter almost crashed into him as he turned the corner to flank the surface of the ship he had just left. The south gate was ten kilometres ahead. For the first time in a long while Trsor suddenly felt that his life might actually be in danger.
Nine kilometres – eight – seven – six – five…
He tried not to think about how quickly the enemy could respond with their jumpdrive technology.
Four kilometres. Trsor’s heart skipped a beat, or would have if he had one. The south gate’s clearance lights flashed red. He pulled the stick hard upwards and left it there almost before he realised his ship was facing the other way. A glance toward his immediate rear camera showed the first of the Argon capital ships arriving through the south gate. It appeared to be a destroyer class. The sector holding vessels had not been alerted to their imminent doom. They were still engaging their original targets.
Trsor decided to take a gamble and divert his shield energy to his engines. The small reactor probably wouldn’t last for more than half an hour like that. It didn’t matter. The hasty re-entry Trsor had planned would cripple his ship anyway.
He was shooting past the original home capital ships within a minute. The enemy already had several ships in the system. Cap ship vs. cap ship, the odds were even. Blue PPC energy accelerated through space to impact on a cruiser in front of him. The Argons had started their attack. They were focusing fire. He sent his ship down underneath the engine manifold. He could see the shields of the cruiser failing already. Suddenly, as they penetrated, metal started to melt and ignite the plasma fuels. The resulting explosion sent searing hot metal towards his fighter. One caught his right wing before flames engulfed his surroundings. When the outside changed from a fiery red colour back to normal space, his ship computer started screaming hull breach messages at him. His reactor fuel had ignited on the side of his ship, slowly burning through his hull.
“Warning, reactor diversion failed. Shields – failed. Thrusters – forty percent.”
Trsor yelled some sware words at the ship in his language. His only option now would be to flee to the planet. There, he and his comrades faced death, but right now he would have to take everything as it came. He guided his fighter towards the blue mass before him. Hopefully, the fire on the outside would not find its way inside.
The battle had begun, and a short one it would be.
Today, this sector. Tomorrow, this war. We’re losing this conflict.
************************************************************************
“Reinforcements have arrived!” Melissa exclaimed.
Vanessa smiled under her helmet. “Great work, boys. It was nice working with you.”
Uplifting conversation started to fill the channel as enemy cap ships were gloriously obliterated before their eyes. Fighters started to flee in disarray. But one particular small fighter caught her eye. It was different, like a prototype or experimental ship. It appeared to be quite crippled with a fire on one of its sides and various large breaches on its hull.
Vanessa accelerated towards it. It was almost at re-entry. They whole sector was in low orbit anyway. She started to get an eerie feeling as her ship got within a couple of kilometres. Thoughts filled her mind.
Who would have a unique ship like this?
Certainly someone important. She gasped as the realisation hit her.
I have to destroy him.
Her heart pounded. She had heard of his piloting skills. Surely if his ship was not in this condition she would not be able to even get close to him. But she had to try.
Melissa’s voice came through the comm. “Vanessa, where are you going?”
“I – ” She struggled for words. “To finish something important.”
Trsor came in firing range. His ship could barely manage more than sixty m/s.
Vanessa fired. She felt reluctant.
He tried to doge but in vain. Plasma started to rip his ship apart. It exploded in the most unclean way imaginable.
What had she done? Tears started to fall down her face but why? Was there ever any good in him?
I could imagine it all, but perhaps it's mere wishful thinking.
But anyway, here's the next part. I did have more in mind for this chapter but I felt it necessary to leave it on this cliffhanger.
EDIT: Ok, nevermind. Hopefully I made this edit quick enough.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Vice leader, can we get a message out?”
“Not unless you don’t mind every comm scanner in the sector listening in.”
Vanessa let her helmet clonk back against the rest. She closed her eyes and exhaled in frustration.
“This would be the perfect time for the fleet to initiate a surprise attack,” said Melissa.
“I know, I know. That’s why we need to contact them. I told Tate to bring the fleet in after five hours if we still haven’t reported back.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s only been two hours.”
“This was only meant to be a raiding mission. Maybe we got a little ahead of ourselves.”
“Mm,” said Vanessa and returned to her thinking. After a few seconds she suddenly smacked her fist against the viewport with an idea. “Why don’t one of us jump out!?”
“We don’t have jumpdrives,” said a pilot.
“Why the baka don’t we?” replied Vanessa, half remembering.
“Tate said we didn’t have room,” answered Melissa.
“Idiot. He was so worried about how the mission would go he overlooks the very likely possibility of counter-attack!” Her voice ended in a crescendo. She sighed.
“Sir?” asked a pilot.
“Yes, four?”
“I volunteer to attempt to exit the system and alert fleet of our predicament.”
“That’s a little bit impossible don’t you think?” said another pilot.
“Yes. The enemy would track you and hunt you down like the dogs they are. You’d be trying to break their perimeter.”
“I understand that. But it’s worth a try and under the circumstances I’d say we don’t have that much choice.”
Vanessa pondered for a moment. He was right. They did only have two options. Stay and try to fight the dozens upon dozens of enemies – or split up and run while a single fighter breaks through the enemy lines and runs through the gate. She did like the latter idea better. It involved more running and more chance of survival – except for, of coarse, Nova pilot number four. If he failed the only chance would to be for Nova flight to flee down to the planet.
“Ok, four. Permission granted. Everyone spread out and hope for the best. Four, wait for us to engage them before heading towards the gate.”
Acknowledgements came from all pilots as they carried out their tasks. The capital ships, along with their fighter complement would be on them in under a minute. Vanessa could feel the tenseness of all members of the flight.
After what seemed like an hour, the first capital ships started firing. Small, barely recognizable energy bolts flew towards them from the distance.
“Four, off you go.”
Four boosted his engines and shot through the first wave of fighters before they knew where he was. His fighter passed the first cap ship as other red blips started closing in on him. Ahead were two destroyers, one on each side. The only way was through the middle as enemy fighters were closing from left and right. Vanessa switched her camera view to overlook his Nova. He was parallel to the front of the destroyers with a swarm of fighters tailing him. His ship started twirling as countless lasers were fired at him, some hitting their mark. Vanessa glanced at her scanner, noticing the state of four’s shields rapidly decreasing. Suddenly, several missiles exited the tubes of the fighters chasing him. Slowly but surely, they were almost upon him as he flew past the edge of the two cap ships. Suddenly, a bright explosion engulfed him. Vanessa’s eyes locked on to her scanner. His blue blip was gone but so were the red one’s around his previous location. The explosion had caused area effect scanner static.
Seconds passed as she glanced back to her view screen and waited for the fiery mass to dissipate. The two larger ships had recoiled slightly. The trailing squadron had already broken off. It appeared the plan had failed, not surprisingly, but abruptly. Vanessa almost completely turned her head away before four’s blip vaguely reappeared on her scanner. She looked back at the live camera to find his Nova shooting through space at maximum speed, its exhaust trails glowing brilliantly. Simultaneous cheers echoed on the comm.
Only at matter of time now.
************************************************************************
“Sir, incoming transmission. High priority.”
“Patch it through immediately,” said Jacob. Normally he would ask who it was but he felt sure it would be something to do with the raiding mission in progress.
Static came through the speakers as the Captain turned towards the main viewport, observing the large image of a fighter pilot coming into focus.
“Captain Forge?”
Who was this? “Speaking,” he replied.
“This is member four of Nova flight. My squadron is being relentlessly chased down by literally every enemy ship is Omicron Lyrae.”
Already?
“Sir, now would be a good time to send in the fleet. We could pin them down against the planet.”
Jacob thought a moment. He felt a little scared about his lack of urgency. “I’ll alert all the ships I can immediately.”
************************************************************************
Trsor leaped into his cockpit and closed the hatch with his neural link. His communication node flashed at him annoyingly.
“What is it?” said Trsor.
“An enemy fighter has broken through our lines. It just exited the system through the west gate.”
An interesting development this was. He could see it all. One fighter leaves to call for reinforcements. Enemy ships pile in through the east south gates, blocking off their escape route. They activate signal jamming devices, to prevent any distress signals. After which they obliterate all the opposing forces with swift firings of the weapons they call Photon Pulse Cannons.
Trsor didn’t take the time to reply. He simply terminated the comm link and fired up his thrusters. His ship jolted heavily as he exited the vacuum shields at a higher-than-normal velocity. A friendly fighter almost crashed into him as he turned the corner to flank the surface of the ship he had just left. The south gate was ten kilometres ahead. For the first time in a long while Trsor suddenly felt that his life might actually be in danger.
Nine kilometres – eight – seven – six – five…
He tried not to think about how quickly the enemy could respond with their jumpdrive technology.
Four kilometres. Trsor’s heart skipped a beat, or would have if he had one. The south gate’s clearance lights flashed red. He pulled the stick hard upwards and left it there almost before he realised his ship was facing the other way. A glance toward his immediate rear camera showed the first of the Argon capital ships arriving through the south gate. It appeared to be a destroyer class. The sector holding vessels had not been alerted to their imminent doom. They were still engaging their original targets.
Trsor decided to take a gamble and divert his shield energy to his engines. The small reactor probably wouldn’t last for more than half an hour like that. It didn’t matter. The hasty re-entry Trsor had planned would cripple his ship anyway.
He was shooting past the original home capital ships within a minute. The enemy already had several ships in the system. Cap ship vs. cap ship, the odds were even. Blue PPC energy accelerated through space to impact on a cruiser in front of him. The Argons had started their attack. They were focusing fire. He sent his ship down underneath the engine manifold. He could see the shields of the cruiser failing already. Suddenly, as they penetrated, metal started to melt and ignite the plasma fuels. The resulting explosion sent searing hot metal towards his fighter. One caught his right wing before flames engulfed his surroundings. When the outside changed from a fiery red colour back to normal space, his ship computer started screaming hull breach messages at him. His reactor fuel had ignited on the side of his ship, slowly burning through his hull.
“Warning, reactor diversion failed. Shields – failed. Thrusters – forty percent.”
Trsor yelled some sware words at the ship in his language. His only option now would be to flee to the planet. There, he and his comrades faced death, but right now he would have to take everything as it came. He guided his fighter towards the blue mass before him. Hopefully, the fire on the outside would not find its way inside.
The battle had begun, and a short one it would be.
Today, this sector. Tomorrow, this war. We’re losing this conflict.
************************************************************************
“Reinforcements have arrived!” Melissa exclaimed.
Vanessa smiled under her helmet. “Great work, boys. It was nice working with you.”
Uplifting conversation started to fill the channel as enemy cap ships were gloriously obliterated before their eyes. Fighters started to flee in disarray. But one particular small fighter caught her eye. It was different, like a prototype or experimental ship. It appeared to be quite crippled with a fire on one of its sides and various large breaches on its hull.
Vanessa accelerated towards it. It was almost at re-entry. They whole sector was in low orbit anyway. She started to get an eerie feeling as her ship got within a couple of kilometres. Thoughts filled her mind.
Who would have a unique ship like this?
Certainly someone important. She gasped as the realisation hit her.
I have to destroy him.
Her heart pounded. She had heard of his piloting skills. Surely if his ship was not in this condition she would not be able to even get close to him. But she had to try.
Melissa’s voice came through the comm. “Vanessa, where are you going?”
“I – ” She struggled for words. “To finish something important.”
Trsor came in firing range. His ship could barely manage more than sixty m/s.
Vanessa fired. She felt reluctant.
He tried to doge but in vain. Plasma started to rip his ship apart. It exploded in the most unclean way imaginable.
What had she done? Tears started to fall down her face but why? Was there ever any good in him?
-
- Posts: 728
- Joined: Thu, 2. Feb 06, 09:21
Sector 44
Grrr! Just enough story to hook you then it ends! But hey! great story telling anyhow. Check out KRM398 "The Way It Could Be" By Kevin Marsh (Part 1 + 2). I think there is a great deal of untapped talent on this Creative forum. Seems a shame none of you can do an Eve example where some of the 'authors' are published and paid.
Good work and I hope you get the chance to do some more!

Good work and I hope you get the chance to do some more!

veneratio supernus omni
-
- Posts: 1642
- Joined: Fri, 22. Jul 05, 04:58