Chapter 30

"There is no possession more valuable than a good and faithful friend."

~ Socrates

Nervousness. Fear. Emotions that ran wild through Charlene as she stood in front of the mirror in the head, waiting for zero six hundred shipboard time. The young commander had never commanded such a large group. She had never led such a group that had never served with her, who had zero confidence in her. Those issues seemed trivial compared to what was to come in the immediate future, war. The ship was deployed for battle to face an enemy no one had experience or had knowledge of, without any sort of intelligence gathered beyond what small amount of sensor data that was taken. The First Fleet was facing impossible odds. Naval strategists have repeatedly said entering this battle with absolutely zero intelligence on the enemy was suicide. But the people of the Federation needed revenge, justice, for the deaths of trillions. The Admiralty needed to respond, and when the Carl Sagan was lost, they had the perfect opportunity to strike.

‘Suck it up, buttercup,’ Charlene told herself as she took a deep breath, exhaled and left the head. She gleamed chest up with confidence, despite her inner self crying for dear mercy, clawing at her to give up and run. The fear was eating away her insides, showing her memories of her childhood with her family. Her family. That was when her inner confidence took over, washing away the fake cover with the strong, capable version of herself. Her family was all that she had left. Even if she did not come back, she had to do everything in her power to save them. If these aliens were not stopped, they would force hell on Earth the way they had done to Orion.

“Commander on deck!” a watchman shouted out to the group of fifty officers in the briefing room as Charlene entered the room. Every single officer complied and gave the new C.A.G, a salute, honor and protocol running in their veins.

“At ease,” Char said to the room. “I know most of you do not know me, only my legend. And I do know ‘Legendary’ status means nothing to the elite of the elite, as I expect nothing less.” Char had no idea why she needed to explain herself. Something inside was driving the words, and she was unable to stop the inevitable trainwreck. “I have a lot to prove to you, and you all have a lot to prove to me. But that is not why we are here.” Her brain found an avenue to escape the carnage just at the right time. “We are entering a battle in less than twenty minutes. This will be a fight none of you is trained for. Not a single person in this room, or any member of your squads has experience in what’s to come.”

“You do, ma’am,” an officer shouted out from an unknown part of the vast room, interrupting Charlene.

“You’re right.” She looked at no one in particular, scanning the room in an attempt to shoot down this attempt at mockery before it began. “I am the only human to have fought these aliens and survived. That gives me a unique insight into the fact that these fuckers do not play around. They do not have tactics that you can even imagine. They have technology far beyond anything we have.” She paused, letting that sink in for a moment. “This is not a game. I barely survived. Two hundred men and women, our brothers and sisters in arms, sacrificed their lives to ensure I made it back here to warn Earth. Do not sit here and think this will be a cakewalk simply because I ‘know how they fight.’ Now, we have no real plan of action, no intelligence on the battlefield. Our orders are to provide support for the Capital ships.”

“It sounds like we are jumping into a shit show, ma’am,” Another outburst from another officer.

“We are. But what else can we do? We have an opportunity to respond to the lives who were lost to these fuckers. We may be fighting a losing battle, but damnit, we will give them hell before we fall!”

“Ohrah!!” the room shouted in unison, accepting the speech from their untested commander.

“All ships, all departments, prepare for jump procedures,” chimed in on the 1M.C.

“This is it, boys and girls. Get to your squads, get them ready. Let’s kill these alien fuckers. I want fifteen skulls of these cocksuckers for every one of our own lost in Orion!”

“OHRAH!!!”

“All stations reported in and ready, sir,” a Comms officer aboard the F.W.S Independence conveyed to the command staff.

“Very well, ensign,” replied Admiral Briggs. He was looking over to his executive officer, waiting for a reason not to give the order, which would likely kill a lot of men and women. The captain just stared at him and gave a slight nod. “Very well, captain,” he said as he grabbed a mic from his command station while pressing a few buttons to open a channel to the fleet.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Fleet, you know your orders. Today we take the first steps to fight back and get justice. We do this for the trillions of men, women, and children who just wanted to live their lives. We do this for Orion! All ships begin Hyperspace Countdown.”

With that command, a giant clock above the main viewport in front of the bridge began counting down. Thirty seconds. With that order, Comms chimed in all over the bridge.

25 Seconds: “F.W.S. Enterprise Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

23 Seconds: “F.W.S. Liberty Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

20 Seconds “F.W.S. Constitution Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

15 Seconds: “Flight Group Red Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

12 Seconds: “Flight Group Blue Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

9 Seconds: “Flight Group Green Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

2 Seconds: “Flight Group Yellow Reporting in. Ready for Jump”

0 Seconds: “All Ships engage mission. Jump! Jump! Jump!” Admiral Briggs gave the order.

There was a beautiful view of Saturn just in front of the Independence, but with the final order to jump, Saturn meshed away, and a yellow and red planet emerged from the center of the Sol systems’ second-largest gas giant, eventually taking over and replacing the Greek God.

Sensor technician reported the painful news. “Sir, we have contacts! All bearings all headings, we jumped in the middle of them, distance from twenty-five hundred meters to seventy-five kilometers!!!!”

“Sir! We lost the Liberty!!!! She came out of Hyperspace inside several hostile ships!”

The Liberty was one of three Juggernauts that entered the fight. Along with the Constitution and the Independence, the ship was a powerhouse and big hitter of the fleet. This was a significant blow right off the bat for any engagement. However, the Liberty had taken fifty-seven enemy ships with her, an outcome some would paint as a heroic afterthought to the behemoth’s loss.

Briggs barked orders through the mic. “All ship, formation Alpha, starburst!! All flight commanders assign targets and fire at will! Ops, monitor status on the Liberty, let me know the moment the cores goes critical.”

The Liberty may have been lost, but she wasn’t entirely destroyed. The ship’s many fusion reactors were still intact and could possibly explode, which would cause substantial damage to all the vessels surrounding her. Admiral Briggs had enacted a Starburst order, which is simply any ship nearby should open the gap with any other friendly ship in any possible direction, spreading the fleet out in random directions.

“Alright, boys, get to your fighters!” yelled Commander Carr to her squadron onboard the Enterprise with alarms and shouting all around them. Flight Deck 15 was abnormally chaotic. Training can only get you so far, and experience is what really shines on a battlefield. The Enterprise was one of the top carriers from over a hundred years of engagements with the Republic. Every pilot onboard the carrier had combat experience, making them some of the best fighter pilots in the fleet. With all the combined experience of each of the five hundred pilots, not a single one of them had the expertise required for this battle. The Federation had never fought a battle with a non-human entity before; no one could even begin to guess at the tactics, strategies, and weaponry of the enemy fleet. Every single pilot was just as good as a new recruit, fresh off the farm.

“Good morning, lieutenant,” Betsy chimed in as Charlene climbed into the cockpit and powered the fighter on. “How was your day?”

“It was great, Betsy. Thank you,” she replied while getting the systems ready for takeoff.

“Dock Control this is foxtrot one-three-two, requesting permission for departure

“Foxtrot one-thirty-two, designated Alpha One, F.W.S. Enterprise dock control, permission for departure granted. Fly safe out there!” a flight operator chimed in over the comms as Charlene throttled up the engines and began her flight out of the carrier.

Leaving one of the Federation’s most prized military assets offered a view as stunningly beautiful as it was horrifying. She witnessed hundreds, if not thousands, of spaceships all in orbit of the same celestial body, the awe of alien engineering and structural design next to the beauty of multispectral light of the pulse and beam particle weapons being exchanged from the alien and Federation ships.

The beauty of the battle died quickly when a stray bolt of plasma struck and destroyed a fighter in front of Charlene as she exited the hangar.

“Alpha nine down!” was yelled over the comms

“Alright, boys, don’t let that get you; you all have your objectives. Form up on me!”

Her squad obeyed every order flawlessly, despite their new and untested commander. Charlene may have had legendary status throughout the fleet as the best pilot the Navy has to offer, but among the pilots onboard the Enterprise, and Alpha Squad in particular, she had a lot to prove. She had only served with a small handful of the pilots stationed onboard the carrier before, none of whom were assigned to the infamous Alpha Squad. Every member of the flight group looked at her with caution, and she had yet to earn their trust. Being assigned a commander you’ve never flown with can leave some pilots with a bad taste, a distrustful one. But everyone knew their duties, trust issues or not, she was their commanding officer, and they were there to perform their duties.

“Is this accurate, ma’am?” Alpha three asked over the squad comm circuit.

“I’m reading it, too. It’s accurate. They do not seem to be deploying any anti-fighter craft. Let’s take this as a win and escort the bombers!” Charlene confirmed all the sensor data the flight group was receiving and relayed the new orders to the entire division.

The pilots were used to fighting a human enemy, one that used familiar and similar tactics. One that used and deployed one- or two-person fighters to aid in battle. The alien force was also used to fighting a specific type of enemy, one that did not use small craft for offense or defense tactics. Charlene was trying to figure out a way to use this to her advantage, potentially giving the bombers a clear direction into the larger, less maneuverable capital ships. It would be an easy mission, with no real resistance to fight against, but an important one as the bombers could turn the tide of battle.

“Alpha One, this is Delta One, we are on approach to zero-three-five.”

“Acknowledged Delta One, we have your six!” Charlene returned the comm request to the bomber squad that was making its way to their target.

The Federation’s most advanced bomber, the B-979 developed by Boeing Aerospace, is unmatched to any Russian counterpart. Proven in battle, the small ships have a nearly unbeatable record, scoring a 98 percent kill rating on engagements. Carrying an impressive yield of plasma lance torpedoes and particle beams that are usually mounted on destroyers, the five-person craft is a deadly force for a ship its size.

The bomber squad was assigned to what appeared to be a Dreadnaught, its large size and weaponry comparable to the Federation’s equivalent even if the official designations were different. A tremendous flurry of laser and particle blasts started to rain down towards the two groups of small ships, unable to sufficiently target the tiny craft as they came barreling towards the ugly monster of a capital ship.

“Delta one, confirmed firing solution, I have target lock,” one of the Delta bomber pilots reported over the comm network.

“Lock confirmed, relaying solution to the squad. Weapons free, fire at will!” With the command from the Delta team leader, all ten of the bombers launched their plasma torpedoes at the unsuspecting Dreadnaught. Giant bolts of superheated energy rained down on the Alliance ship as the bombers dumped insane amounts of energy into the thruster systems, rapidly changing the direction of the small ships. Three bolts of yellow, orange balls of plasma struck the hull, melting away several layers of hull and damaging systems in its path. Before the other plasma bolts were able to strike the hull, the Dreadnaught raised a deflection layer, shielding the ship from any harm from the rest of the weaponry.

Static interrupted the report from one of the bombers. “Three direct hits.”

“Look alive, boys, the whale is not dead yet. Alpha Squad, let’s lay cover fire to burn a hole for the lances.”

“Lieutenant Carr,” Betsy interrupted as Charlene maneuvered her fighter to make a move on the shields. “I am picking up a swarm of small objects emerging on our location, and I am unable to process identification of the objects.”

“Delta group, Alpha group, we may have incoming…” Charlene never had a chance to finish her warning, as thousands of blue bolts of energy came raining down on the group, striking and destroying two bombers suddenly, ripping through the shields with ease.

The drones were not much of a threat to Alpha Squad. Just adjusting the direction the ship's point allowed full weapon systems to target and destroy the drones as they continued to travel in their previous direction. It didn’t take long for the drones to be obliterated under the might of the legendary fighter squad. The bombers took a few more runs on the monstrosity of a ship, but the shielding deflected everything the ships threw at them.

“We just lost the Cuba,” an officer onboard the bridge of the Independence reported. Twelve ships total, four destroyers, two battleships, and six frigates had been lost. In contrast, the Navy had yet to destroy a single Alliance ship beyond the fifty-seven initial ships vaporized from the hyperspace insertion of the Liberty. The fleet tactical display in front of the Admiral was not painting him a picture anyone wanted to see. The Alliance ships seemed to have a strong defense field that was dissipating the energy weapons reasonably quickly, while their energy discharges were overheating shield relays and punching right through Federation shields. To top off the good news in front of Briggs, a swarm of nearly unlimited drones had entered the battlefield, making short work of the small fighters and bombers deployed.

“Captain, what do you make of that?” Briggs eyed a capital ship, seemingly off in the middle of nowhere, outside of any weapon range of the closest starship, loitering around not actively participating in the engagement in any form.

“I’m not sure, sir. She’s not emitting any signal, so I doubt that’s the ship jamming the field. My best guess is she’s a command carrier. I’m willing to bet a few drinks that ship houses their officers,” Capitan Justin Standish replied, giving his honest guess on the mystery ship.

“My thoughts exactly. I never thought I would ever give this order, but we need to cut off the head of the snake.”

“Couldn’t agree more, sir.” The intelligence fleet captain agreed with the admiral’s assessment, despite the cost they might have to pay to achieve the goal.

“Send word to the Enterprise. They have the closest fighter and bomber group, engage and eliminate at all costs.” Briggs gave the order, one that he had feared would kill every one of the men and women he just ordered to engage. His order had very little chance at success but, at this point in the battle, something had to be done. The Federation was losing ships at an alarming rate, still unable to inflict more damage than what the Liberty had caused.

“Aye, sir!” Charlene responded to the order over the flight network, ignoring the fear eating away at her. Her duty and honor had finally taken over. “Alpha, Delta, Foxtrot and Hotel groups, form up on me. We have a new target.”

The large bombers of Delta and Foxtrot merged formations to form one unit, patching the squad’s losses and again creating a strong fighting force. Alpha and Hotel groups did the same but formed a protective barrier on the bombers, knowing that may be their last shot in defeating these aliens without losing any more lives.

“We have incoming!” Alpha three said over the shared comms, with slight panic in the young man’s voice.

“Hotel group, flip and watch our six; Alpha group, fire at will, clear a path!” Charlene ordered the Hotel fighters to orient their ships facing to the rear of the formation, while the rest of the ships maintained speed so as not to break formation. Group Hotel’s job was to eliminate any threat approaching from the rear while Alpha group eliminated any threat directly ahead of them.

A swarm of drones flooded the space between the flock of bombers and fighters and the elusive capital ship, filling the area not only with bright blue plasma bolts but E.M. radiation as well, jamming the targeting data of the fighters. The remaining X-401 fighters of Alpha Squad unleashed a fiery hell of red and orange bolts of energy in both the superheated plasma weaponry and the new anti-positron particle weapons that only Betsy had the capabilities to yield. The Antimatter particle weapon systems still had a seventy-five percent charge, which Charlene took full advantage of.

The bomber leader delivered some bad news to Char. As they closed the distance to the ship, the drones were making it nearly impossible to get a positive lock on the capital ship, preventing the bombers from releasing their payload. “Alpha One, Delta One. We cannot get a positive firing solution; there are still too many of them. We are within firing range, but we will lose the window real soon without a brake burn.”

“Alpha Group, concentrate fire on the following bearing!” Charlene had an idea. They would dump enormous amounts of fire directly in front of the bombers, enough to clear a hole for them to fire. It was not enough, though. The swarm had a near-infinite amount of drones that replaced themselves after each loss. Char cursed herself under her breath as she saw the capital ship whiz by her without the bombers releasing their ordnance. “Damnit! Alright, guys, let's get some distance and line up for another run!”

“Whoa!” a young woman over the shared comm channel startled Charlene with a high-pitched yelp. “Hot damn that was a hell of a shot Delta and Foxtrot group! Good shooting!!”

Charlene requested confirmation of what was said, as it made no sense, but before anyone could answer, Betsy interrupted.

“I recommend full emergency burn on all ships. Significant energy build-up detected, the large capital ship on our six is about to go critical.”

“What? How?”

“Charlene, burn! Now!!!” Betsy shouted, which startled Char. An A.I. showing any form of emotion was impossible. Charlene’s hesitation was noted, and Betsy did not wait for her pilot to process what the A.I. had said. She overrode her controls, dumping extensive amounts of power in the inertia stabilizers and thruster systems, pushing 20g’s to clear the area as quickly as possible.

“All flight groups, emergency burn, clear the area now! Now! Now!!” Charlene shouted as much as she could under 5g’s of strain, ordering the rest of the fighters to follow her lead.

The ship exploded, sending a titanic energy wave that either disabled or destroyed all small ships within a short distance. No Federation ship was within range, but it took out nearly all the drones initially protecting it.

“Ma’am, we didn’t hit it,” Delta one said over the comm channel.

“Negative on ordnance release here as well,” replied Foxtrot one.

“If no one fired a shot, what blew that thing?” Char asked, but did not push the transmit button, not wanting to show confusion to her squads.

“Charlene, look at the sensor data,” Betsy finally chimed in, disabling her broadcast as well. “I am reading something emerging from the wreckage, and it is broadcasting a Federation F.o.F.”

“No,” Char gasped. “It can't be!”

“F.o.F. confirmed, ship identifies as F.W.S. WarpStar S.D.D.E-01.”

Charlene could detect a slight bit of excitement in Betsy’s voice as she reported the name of the ship, but ignored it as she was flooded with shock and surprise.

A familiar voice was heard over the fleet channel. “Federation fleet, this is WarpStar actual. Reporting kill on command carrier.”

Briggs replied on the open comms. Charlene still couldn’t muster the energy or the will to respond. Staring in disbelief, questioning everything she had seen since her narrow escape. Unable to believe reality as it was shown before her eyes.