Daniels snapped his neck in discomfort. Being this close to near annihilation was not something he was fond of. He remembered his days at the academy, cooped up in dark simulator rooms, fighting in make-believe battles exactly like this one. At some point it got compartmentalised, and one slips into an automaton-like state, where the conscious mind is overridden and left to scream in the background, while the fingers and training take over.
But pretense is one thing, and this is another..., he thought. Especially with a crowd. The gaggle of eggheads that the commandant had summoned were busily making lip-service about their current situation. He wondered why they were there, and what good they could do to improve their tactical situation. Respect for knowledge is all well and good, but the introduction of civilians in such technical military matters unerverd him.
Last thing we want is outright panic.
For his part, the commandant seemed ice-cold. Guess that comes with the territory. Better not screw this up. Last thing I want is for him to see my panicked, moronic face just before we get atomised.
"Targeting status?", asked XO Hauser.
"Vectors aligned. ETA 300 seconds", Daniels replied. If the commander is right there, why the hell doesn't he ask himself?
"Capacitor status?", asked the commander as if on cue.
"100 percent, sir", replied Ramachandran. Daniels glanced at him, in silence. His colleague gave him a wide-eyed, but otherwise inscrutable look. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
His head was filled with sudden urges. To reach out to another human, to say something to alleviate the fear, at least to utter a prayer, or encouragement, or....something. His fingers felt stiff on the console, so he scrunched them, the tiny bones eerily crackling.
As he raised his eyes, he could see the target in motion, it's speed taking it irrevocably closer to alignment with the targeting ring. Rarely had such a mere image woken such nausea within him.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Captain,", said Swiftalon with a sense of tenseness, "the enemy has deployed gunboats. Vectors 3-6-3 and 2-5-1. Hard burn." She glanced at the superior officer. "Standard pincer formation."
"We won't have time to dock" said the Mizol.
"Eclipse, prep for hard burn" ordered Razorleaf.
"Understood captain. Initiating maneuver" answered the helmsman, as the ship swiftly turned.
She reached her console. "Bastobar Cloupeak?"
"Yes, captain" answered the engineer.
"Status?"
"Unchanged. 60 percent acceleration, 50 on guns. 85 percent weapons capacity. 100 on point defence."
"Prep for damage control. Keep as many guns operational as can be, but don't take your eyes off containment."
"As required, captain", replied Cloudpeak curdly.
"Any more communications from the installation, Moonshadow?"
"Same message, on a loop, captain" she answered promptly. "Does not seem to be occupied or powered up in any meaningful way. No external structures either, though our sensors can't pierce it and we can't see what's on its' far side. "
She paused.
"We're very close, but the enemy will be within striking distance, and it seems impossible for us to attempt to dock while fighting."
Feces covered piece of space junk, swore Razorleaf behind her lotai. With the installation on it's slow vector, it had changed position too much from the moment of detection to allow even a swift attempt at docking.
"ETA 60 solon, captain", reported Swiftalon.
"From the moment they became aware of the installation, the enemy was bound to become aggressive enough to not allow us to approach it. They engaged us as soon as they understood what we were doing" offered Moonshadow. "It was a valiant attempt."
"Indeed" spoke Swiftalon, "but now we have no choice but to give battle" she finished with the smell of blood in her thoughts.
"Agreed" said Razorleaf. "Have the Teidar prepare for boarding". At least they die with weapons in hand.
"Fireteams are already in position, captain" replied the weapons officer.
Razorleaf gave a discrete sigh, before addressing the bridge officers one last time.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Sir, two additional bogeys just split from Contact-02", said Daniels, almost running out of breath. "Looks to be smallcraft, sir. They're matching burn rate with main contact."
"Redesignate main contact as Bogey-Prime", ordered the commandant. "Has it changed vector?"
"No, sir. Still on intercept course", said the ensign hesitantly.
"Ramachandran, Hartman, track those additional contacts", said the commandant. "They're gearing for a fight earlier than we thought. "
"Roger, sir", said the bridge officers.
"First ship has begun a harder burn, sir" said one of the bridge officers. "They've been accelerating for some time, but with this burn, they'll never reach the OTT."
"Range from bogey to contact one is still 300 kiloclicks, sir", said Daniels hoping to elicit a comment. Can their weapons hit that far? His throat suddenly seemed to dry up.
"APOLLO, transfer command to manual on first console".
That means...me?!he thought, as the colors on his screen denoting the weapon's aimpoint turned to life.
"Align with target reticule, and keep it in your sights, ensign", pressed Andrews. "Apollo can do the math, but there's a reason I want manual control. "
"Yessir", said Daniels tensing up like a car spring.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"The enemy has deployed gunboats, and from the ambush we think they only carry energy weapons. They will engage us head on with the main ship, while the gunboats maneuver to try and target our nacelles, flanks and rear quarter. Engaging them would leave us vulnerable to the enemy main ship, therefore we focus fire on it and ignore them" said Razorleaf, exuding as much cold calculated sensation as possible. "Eclipse, keep out ship edge-on to the boats. We want to present as small a profile to their fire as possible."
"Understood, captain!"
"Taking out their main ship will leave the auxiliaries stranded, regardless of battle outcome." She paused.
"Let them feel the cold embrace of this blasted piece of the universe," said Swiftalon on a rising wave of emotion."Only warriors are worthy of fiery deaths."
For once, we agree."The enemy knows we have no choice but to take them head on, where their shields and armor is strongest, and their blows heaviest. Since they do not expect us to give much attention to their boats, these will hug the main ship for as long as possible and begin acceleration as late and hard as can be, to reduce the time it takes to reach our rear side, passing at very short range where their guns can salt us. They do not intend to use their superior delta-v to wear us down or outmaneuver us, but rather invite us to battle. And Loroi never pass up such invitations."
A crushing wave of hot emotion rose up from the entire bridge and close sections. Only Moonshadow seemed unfazed, but keen and alert.
"30 solon to range", said Swiftalon. "Boat are beginning their burn. Enemy main is activating maneuver thrusters."
"Our flight ends here, one way or another", concluded Razorleaf grimmly. "Let us make our fallen proud."
"10 solon to intercept."
"All forward turrets...", Razorleaf said inhaling.
"Intercept."
"Fire!"
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Clara isn't on shift today, he said. Should've asked her out for a coffee long ago. With the smallest of gestures, he shook his head slightly to toss away the stray thoughts that threatened to invade him.
"Bogey-Prime has begun evasive maneuvering, sir" he reported.
"Looks like the light show's already started" muttered the tall woman scientist.
"We'll make a log of every shot they fire" answered the commandant. "Gonna make for some light reading later on for mister Sanderson's boys."
"Indeed..." muttered the short mustached man with a low voice. "To think they can use weapons' fire at this range."
"The Loroi opened fire first", observed the XO.
"Longer range" answered Andrews. "Most of their shots are still missing. They're still outside their optimal."
"I'd say their optimal is about three times our maximum", replied Ibaka.
"Bogey-prime is about to pass us, sir" observed Daniels. "With all that jinking, it's not gonna be easy to get a good shot."
The reticule was bouncing up and down on his screen. There was no way he could match the lumbering aimpoint of his weapons emplacement right onto it.
"You're gonna have to eyeball it, ensign", replied the commandant reclining in his chair. "As they reach closest approach, they'll be easier to hit. Stick to the plan, and steady your shot. APOLLO can do the math on the reticle, but it has no intuition. That's YOUR game."
I don't like this crappy plan, decided Daniels. As he focused, the reticles' bouncing was subsiding, but it still carried a large chance of missing.
"Secondary targets are briskly accelerating," reported Ramanchandran. "Looks like they're going to pincer Contact-01."
"Looking to get a good shot at their engines", offered one of the eggheads.
"ETA to minimal approach is 20 seconds, sir. Range is 10 mega-meters", reported Daniels.
"HMD?"
"One through six online and ready", answered the weapons officers.
"TLS?"
"Banks charged. Target locked."
"Driver mounts?"
"Charged and ready for fire, sir."
"Show time, ladies and gentlemen", said the commandant with a confident, uncharacteristically booming voice, that shattered the sensation. "Let's show the universe our claws", he added. "Mister Ibaka, if you've got any prayers, feel free to mutter them in your head."
"With all due respect, those are statistics, sir", he said in a bemused tone. "When you're my age, you value time enough to pay others to pray for you."
"Well then, I hope you broke the bank this time", retorted the commandant. He turned towards the bridge and spoke.
"Remember to focus fire on any projectiles they fire at us. We'll probably only get one shot with the TWE, so we'll make it count. With a little luck, they'll cripple each other, and we'll do clean-up at our leisure. If not, they we use our hardened position on this roid to slug it out. We have the jump on the least damaged of them. As soon as they pass by and flash their rears at us, we light it up. Either way, we win or we end. Any last questions?"
No questions were forthcoming, though that did little to stop the worry. Dozens of meters of rock is good protection, but all our surface installations are sitting ducks you could hit from the other side of the system. Blinking, he refocused his attention, as the target slowly changed aspect from lateral to rear.
"Closest approach passed. Bogey-prime receding," reported Daniels.
"They're doing a real number on Contact-01," mused Sanderson. "Vigorous return fire, but most of those hits seem to be getting...deflected...."
"We'll talk about that over dinner, mister Sanderson", said the commandant. "All emplacements, open fire on Daniels' mark."
"Aye," answered the choir.
"Take the lead, Ensign."
Inhaling, like he'd done many a times in the sims, he locked eyes with the target, now narrowly presenting it's rear. The reticles' irate jumping had been reduced to a sharp tremor, now once more beginning to pick up speed like an angry dragonfly. He let his mind go blank to everything but the target.
A clean shot.
He pressed his hand on the controls.
And exhale.
"Mark!"