The weapon, p.9
The Weapon, page 9
part #1 of Star Fighters Series
“Give me the coordinates and I’ll tell you what,
You curl up in a ball, and your engines will shut,
Down, down down they will go,
And beg mercy from me, your implacable foe,
Cause I’ll be there and back,
While you’ll be picking up flack,
From our captain oh Sammy it’s true,
Now give me the coordinates and I’ll show you!”
“Wheeler!” said Philips. “Cut the poetry, man. This is serious business. Now, I’m sending you a new series of coordinates. First one back to the starting point gets a hearty congrats from me. Now go!”
Both Star Fighters screamed out at fifty gravities, pivoted to starboard, rotated one hundred and eighty degrees, and then rolled to port, accelerating again at twenty-five gravities, before leveling off and heading straight for the final coordinates at one hundred gravities.
“Tie!” said Philips. “You both made that run in exactly 8.53 seconds. Nice job. I don’t think you could have done it any better.”
“What was your time, captain,” asked Leah.
“Same as you,” he replied. “I think we all optimized that run as completely as possible.”
“Agreed,” said Leah. “While I’m considerably slower than the AI, running the numbers through my head gives me the same result. We can’t do that one any better. I’m really loving my Star Fighter. I was wondering when I’d get to pilot one again.”
“Depending on how this mission goes,” said Philips, “we may have reason to pilot these again and again.”
“That may or may not be good,” said Wheeler over the team comm.
“Depends on the success of this mission and how the outcome is perceived by the brass,” replied Philips.
“Right,” said Leah. “We might succeed wildly, and they may decide to send us on other missions.”
“Or we fail miserably,” said Wheeler. “And they send us out to fix the mistake. Or to gather intel or more experience.”
“Well how about this,” said Philips, “we agree that we’ll find out when the time is right. Right now, I want to keep on point here. Let’s go through some offensive maneuvers.”
Philips ordered the sim room’s central AI to come up with a scenario where the three Star Fighters would be confronted by a hostile squadron of upgraded Xanthu War Chariot fighter craft.
“OK heads up people,” said Philips. “The sim room AI is controlling this one. Tactical screens show a squadron of War Chariots headed our way. For the sake of this sim, I’ve instructed the AI to give them a 50% upgrade. So, we’re outnumbered eight to one, and we’re going to be fighting craft that are 50% better than what our guys had to fight during the Xanthu-Human war.”
“Seems like good odds,” said Wheeler.
“Wheeler, take point,” said Philips. “We won’t be using team net mode for this one.”
Wheeler and Leah acknowledged.
“I’ve got point,” said Wheeler. “Formation L-7. Flight pattern JAM.”
The three Star Fighters adjusted their vectors according to Wheeler’s commands and began accelerating towards the enemy squadron.
The War Chariots banked in one large formation, tilted to starboard and let lose a volley of seventy-two hypersonic missiles. The missiles were controlled by “dumb” AIs – artificial intelligences several orders of magnitude less capable than the Star Fighter AIs. Still, they could track their targets and executes hard maneuvers, keeping on course or faking out their intended target.
Plus, at seventy-two missiles per volley, they were edging on swarm assault tactics, where even non-computer-controlled projectiles could pose a threat to a sophisticated defender by overwhelming their defenses by the sheer weight of numbers.
“The sim room AI doesn’t play around,” said Wheeler. “They’ve opened up with seventy-two missiles already!”
“We should expect things to get much worse,” observed Philips.
“Let’s see what they can do,” said Wheeler, as he banked to port to match course with the War Chariots, while Leah made a sharp turn to starboard and Philips angled up over the plane of attack.
The missiles would be in range of the Star Fighter beam weapons in four seconds, enough time to calculate an optimal spread pattern while staying out of their auto detonation range.
The three Star Fighters lined up their targets, and quickly eliminated a third of the missiles, flying above, around and beneath them at speeds much too fast for the missiles to react to, while continuing towards the War Chariot squadron.
“Nice move,” said Philips. “Bet you they break formation.”
Sure enough, the enemy squadron broke into three sections, with eight War Chariots homing in on each individual Star Fighter.
The Star Fighters slowed down just enough so that the missiles wouldn’t lose their lock on them, and watched as they banked and made circles, turning around to reengage the Star Fighters.
“Let’s punch it a half second before they get to auto detonation range,” said Wheeler.
Acknowledgements lit up on Wheelers heads up.
Wheeler watched as the remaining tactical missiles came into range before calling out “Now!” The three Star Fighters began accelerating again, with vector headings that crossed paths with each section of the enemy squadron.
The War Chariots began firing their own beam weapons at the Star Fighters, as they jinked, tumbled and rolled in tight corridors, the tighter to keep their fire concentrated in one region of space.
At the last minute, Leah, Philips and Wheeler accelerated down below the battle plane, and watched as the missiles began auto detonating as they got within range of the War Chariots.
“Yeah!” shouted Leah, as Philips congratulated Wheeler on his tactics. “Nice job Master Sergeant. But we’re not done yet.”
Wheeler looked at his tactical screen – seven War Chariots survived the detonating missiles – and were gunning straight for him.
“I’m going to chew them up in a straight dog fight,” said Wheeler.
“Go ahead,” said Philips. “Leah and I will cover you.”
Wheeler acknowledged and dove towards the enemy fighters. His A-7 Tactical Lance, a powerful medium range beam weapon, lashed out at the closest fighter, while two Mark-5 short range missiles destroyed the second fighter that closed in on his position.
One of the Chariots managed to score a hit on the dorsal spine of his Space Fighter, but the damage was negligible, and Wheeler spun his craft around end to end, faced his attacker and fired directly into its fore section.
The fighter exploded in a cloud of fire and debris, and the three remaining War Chariots changed course, fleeing the battle space.
“We got them,” said Philips, as he and Leah accelerated after the fleeing fighters and launched their own volley of Mark-5s straight into their fuselages, causing them to explode in a bright orange fireball.
“Nice job everybody,” said Philips. “Wheeler, I really liked your tactics on this one. I’ve got to ding you though…you let one of them hit you.”
“Not really,” said Wheeler. “I knew I could take it. So, I risked taking a small hit to finish off the ones I was pursuing.”
“Understood,” said Philips. “But you can’t be sure in a real fight. I suggest avoiding it next time.”
“He weighed the odds and gambled that they’d be in his favor,” said Leah. “I would have gambled the same way had it been me.”
“Not knocking him. We want to be careful when things get hot. Let’s reset,” said Philips, as he sent the sim room AI instructions to create a new scenario for them to go up against.
“Leah,” he said, “you’re on point for this one.”
Leah studied her tactical screen. “Interesting. Did you have any input on this one Sam? Or is this the AI?”
“I only gave it a few parameters,” replied Philips. “Otherwise it’s all AI.”
“Have you looked at your tactical screen?” asked Leah. “I think the AI has it in for me.”
“Just a bit tougher than the previous scenario,” chuckled Philips. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
“A bit…?” repeated Leah.
The AI was pulling no punches with this scenario.
The tactical screen showed an entire wing of War Chariots, this time with a 200% upgrade. Nine of the ten squadrons were grouped into three tactical units, positioned in a triangular formation opposite the Space Fighters. A lone squadron patrolled the perimeter of the group’s triangular formation. Further off behind the fighter screen waited a large capital ship capable of delivering long range fire support to the wing elements.
“There’s three of us and eighty of them, not including the capital ship,” said Wheeler. “Nice odds.”
“Real nice,” said Leah. “This is where I’d call in the Resolute. But that’s not an option.”
“No, it’s not,” agreed Philips. “It’s just going to be us three out there. They’re getting closer Leah. What are your orders?”
“We’re small, fast and maneuverable,” she said. “We can outfly those Chariots even with a 200% upgrade. Follow me.”
She sent each of the Star Fighters vector instructions to follow. The three craft accelerated hard towards the enemy wing, launching a volley of Mark-7 mid-range missiles that detonated at the leading edge of the enemy formation, causing damage to the lead ships while also forming a screen of debris that made it hard for their sensors to follow the speeding Star Fighters.
Once above the plane of the grouped War Chariots, the Star Fighters engaged the squadron patrolling along the main force’s perimeter. Despite the upgraded Chariots, the Star Fighters used their Mark-5s and A-7 Tactical Lances to quickly cut them to ribbons.
“Nice job guys,” said Leah, as she watched the remaining enemy groups break off into smaller formations, giving chase to the Star Fighters from many directions at once.
“They’re trying to confuse us,” shouted Leah in the team comm. “Attacking via multiple vectors. Ignore them and keep on my vector fellas!”
Both Philips and Wheeler acknowledged.
A few moments later the capital ship came into clearer view. From here the Star Fighter AI identified it as a Xanthu battle cruiser, with twelve long range guns that could incinerate a Star Fighter and massive missile tubes that could launch long range, hypersonic nuclear missiles.
“Incoming fire!” Leah shouted, as the battle cruiser launched a volley of the hypersonic missiles, followed by several rounds from its long-range guns.
At this distance, the Star Fighters didn’t have too much difficulty evading the guns, and the onboard AIs quickly calculated the safe zones, as the missiles began detonating around them, nuclear fire spreading out in expanding bubbles of hot, ionized gas.
“Leah!” shouted Philips, “that radiation is building fast and blinding our sensors.”
“Augment with tactile sensors,” she said, as both her teammates followed her lead.
The tactile sensor suite allowed Star Fighter pilots to “feel” the space around them, by combining pressure, temperature and matter density readings and rendering them as one tactile metric.
“It’s working,” said Wheeler, as the tactile sensors coupled with the fighter’s other sensors helped clear the way through the building radiation screen.
“Mark-10s,” called Leah into the team comm. “Full spread. Maximum yield. Note coordinates. Fire on my command.”
Wheeler and Philips acknowledged.
“Three…two…one…fire!” said Leah, as five Mark-10, max-yield tactical nuclear missiles streaked out from silos on the underside of their fighters.
All told, the Star Fighters launched fifteen nukes at the capital ship, moving in at hypersonic speeds while on board AIs jinked and turned, dropped low and flew high to avoid flack coming from the capital ship’s anti-missiles batteries.
A flight of War Chariots swooped in to defend the Xanthu battle cruiser, launching their own nuclear missiles at the Mark-10s, detonating them sequentially to form a thick protective screen of radiation and debris. Two of the Mark-10s disintegrated in the explosions, while a third was taken down by the incoming screen of flak.
Two more Mark-10s met their fate when a pair of War Chariots focused their beam weapons on them, incinerating the missiles in mid-flight.
Meanwhile, the Star Fighters used this opportunity to pick off more of the enemy fighters, as they were busy protecting their ship from the Mark-10s.
The first Mark-10 to connect with the capital ship erupted in a massive fireball, causing the enemy vessel to shudder along its length and damage its propulsion. A second Mark-10 found its target amidships, creating a large crater and incinerating the launch bays on that side of the ship, causing it to list to port as secondary explosions erupted along its surface.
A third Mark-10 exploded just a few hundred meters off the port bow, damaging one of the ship’s clustered sensor arrays and disrupting fire control on that side.
“She’s dead in the water,” called Wheeler. “And those fighters have nowhere to land.”
“We’re not done yet,” said Philips, as a wave of War Chariots accelerated towards the Star Fighters, energy beams reaching out to strike them with vengeful fury.
The Star Fighters jinked and rolled to avoid the incoming fire and accelerated to fifty gravities to overpass the incoming fighters, turning end for end to fire at the now receding enemy formation.
The battle continued for several more minutes, when the capital ship’s nuclear core was breached by incoming fire. A moment later the battle space was irradiated by a searing white light, as the capital ship exploded, taking with it a War Chariot fighter screen that had taken up the defense of their mother ship.
“It’s over,” sighed Leah. “We won. We actually won.”
“Crazy odds,” said Wheeler.
“That was an amazing display,” Philips said, congratulating Leah on her victory. “Your tactics were unconventional, but they worked.”
“The lady is a Lev Two,” said Wheeler, “of course her tactics worked!”
“Come on guys,” replied Leah. “We did it together. We’re a team. We’re the Star Fighters!”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Wheeler.
“I’ll eat to that,” said Leah. “Anyone else getting hungry? I’m starving. What do you say Sam? Break time?”
“Agreed,” replied Philips. “A break would be well deserved right about now.”
“AI,” called Philips. “Disengage simulation. Authorization Philips-987-Z12-X90-Sam9.”
The small sim couches opened gently, and Leah, Philips and Wheeler emerged like hatchlings from their nest.
“To the mess hall,” announced Wheeler, as they all smiled as they exited the sim room.
Chapter 10
The Resolute entered the blue zone ahead of schedule, arriving at Cobbler’s Star an hour earlier than planned.
Leonard Guys, one of the operatives Rutledge was to rendezvous with, was stationed on Saddle, a blue jewel of a world, much like Earth in terms of size and ecosystem, but with less industry and a more outdoor-based population.
Whereas cities on Earth were large, densely populated and highly urban complexes of concrete, steel and heavy industry, much of Saddle was given over to a rural lifestyle, with most families living on several acres of land each, and relying on high technology to take the sweat out of farm life while still retaining a slow, relaxed and idyllic connection to nature.
This was reflected in the planet’s economic activity - Saddle’s export economy was mostly foodstuff and artisan crafts, the latter of which were assisted by technology in a non-intrusive way, enabling artists to infuse their handmade wares with modern touches alongside a rustic sense of the past.
“She’s beautiful,” remarked Philips, as he watched the Resolute slide into orbit around Saddle. He was looking down at the planet below, using his viewing screen to pan over masses of swirling white clouds riding high in the planet’s atmosphere, sparkling blue oceans and green pastures that stretched for miles and miles on end.
“That’s probably what Earth looked like before we buried the planet under concrete,” he said wistfully.
“There are still many planets like this one,” said Wheeler. “Most of them are sparsely populated. Saddle is actually one of the more populated ones.”
Philips shrugged. “I haven’t had much time to visit those places,” he said.
“This is a beautiful planet,” added Leah. “Although, to be honest, there is something rather beautiful about Earth’s hyper-urbanity. In a lot of places, the development has been organic and natural, which is its own type of beauty. The planned developments sometimes lack charm, but you get used to them.”
“When this mission is over,” said Philips, “I’m going to vacation right here on Saddle. Would be nice to get away from the hustle for a while. You know what I mean?”
Leah laughed. “You sequester yourself from the hustle? When was the last time you even ventured into a park or nature preserve on Foothold?”
Philips looked up in the air, trying to remember.
“Never.”
“Exactly,” Leah replied. “I honestly don’t think you’d last too long on Saddle. You need that concrete under your feet otherwise you’ll lose your mind.”
Philips shook his head. “I can take it.”
“Would love to see that myself,” added Wheeler. “Tell you what lad. We complete this mission, and I’ll join you on that vacation here on Saddle. If only to keep you out of trouble.”
“Deal!” said Philips.
Presently Rutledge walked into the viewing room, two armed guards at his sides.
“Captain. Leonard Guys, the operative stationed on the planet below, is on his way up to brief me on the situation. I suggest you gather your team and meet me in my conference room in fifteen minutes.”
“Understood,” replied Philips. “We’ll be there.”
“Very good,” said Rutledge and exited as quickly as he came in.
Looking at the door to make sure Rutledge was gone, Wheeler asked “why do you suppose captain Rutledge brings armed escorts everywhere he goes. This is his ship, and everyone aboard is a friendly. What’s he concerned about?”
