NationStates Jolt Archive

Primary TEC Supply Route, Phase Space

"Sir, we've arrived." The helm officer of the Jackal's Den, an Anubis-class (http://skaugra.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=gear2&action=display&thread=81) Battle Carrier, reported to the Captain.

"Thank you, helmsman," Captain Johnathan Shepard replied. "Sensor station, what do we have?"

"Can't be too sure yet, sir," the sensor officer replied. "Still waiting for the Lion's Pride and the Eagle's Nest for triangulation."

"Let me know when they're in position." Captain Shepard looked to the weapon station. "Tac Officer. Weapon status?"

"Primed and loaded, sir," the tac officer replied. "All weapons are at one hundred percent efficiency."

"Sir, they're in position," the sensor officer interrupted.

"Right, coordinate stealth buoy deployment," Captain Shepard replied. "On my mark. Five...four...three...two...one...mark."

-------------------------------

As the three ships lined up into their triangulation pattern, three stealth buoys from each ship deployed behind them, rising up above the ships in question, and then rippled back into real space. Once in real space, the on-board V.I. units began to maneuver into position at a three dimensional level. After two minutes of adjusting their positions, the V.I. units began to record the area, scanning everything in their sensor range.

-------------------------------

"Sir, receiving data packets on the local system."

"What do we have?" Captain Shepard swiveled his chair to face the fore of the bridge as the data played across the screen.

"Three planets, all gas giants," the sensor officer replied. "Lots of moons, no noticeable space stations, lots of exhaust from passing traffic. Looks like this is the system. Very obviously TEC engine signatures."

"Good," Shepard replied. "Inform our comrades that our information sources were correct and to stay on stand-by until further notice."

"Aye, sir," the sensor officer replied.

"For now, we wait..."

(Whilst you are attacking me, all my routes are TEC regulated thus subject TEC members coming in to this thread)

((That's fine. Whoever wants to be the unfortunate soul to be attacked can post.))

TEC Security Center Alpha-51

Base Commander Jothran Karvasi sipped his Getloli Tea, made from a collection of spices and herbs from Jannath and Jormungand, mindlessly viewing his station. Christ, he thought. Nothing ever happe-

*BREEEEEEEEEEEE-OOOOOOOOOOOOOH*

The klaxon sound startled Karvasi, causing him to spill his tea. "What the hell is that?!"

"Sir!" An Ensign called up from a monitoring station. "We have bogeys coming in at one of the TEC shipping lanes!" The Commandant cursed under his breath.

"Send out a warning to all TEC ships in the area, and send the report to all TEC monitor stations."

URGENT
FROM TEC MONITOR ALPHA-51

Unknown bogeys in plotted TEC shipping lane. Proceed with caution.

--Commander Jothran Karvasi
Commandant, Alpha-51
TEC Security Force

Rally Point Epsilon Fifteen
Sojent-Ra System (Orbital 4 + 0.15 AU)
Milky Way Galaxy
1140 Hours (T= -0:32:48)

"Shaw Fujikawa Slipstream Transient Engine online. Estimated time to jump preparation completion - thirty minutes, eighteen seconds. Somtaaw Carrier Battlegroup Eighteen in jump formation, my Jak'sa. Jump countdowns synchronized."

"Thank you, Thalleia," said Jak'sa Paul Benden Somtaaw to his warship's A.I. He sighed and sub-verbally increased the pressure to his acceleration couch's gel layer. The sooner he and his battlegroup finished this operation, the sooner he could get back to doing things that actually mattered...like his weiqi game against the Bushan're's Anemahej.

---

T= -0:00:18

"Count us down, Thalleia."

In the corner of his vision, a tiny digital clock appeared. The CIC was humming with adrenaline. They were largely hadat and hadat'ne, most had never seen actual combat. Sanded recruiting drives. Still, a light patrol op wouldn't tax them too much, he supposed. He pulled up the details of this little jaunt from the ship's computers. It was a nerve cluster of trade routes for the less advanced empires of the Trader Economic Coalition. Ships departing their respective faster-than-light tunnels to traverse the system's gravity well, then emerging on the other side and re-engaging said drives. Horribly inefficient, he thought, when ships could simply plot a course around the system...but treaty stipulations were treaty stipulations. And now it was the Dominion's turn to patrol the system, and of course Somtaaw got pegged to do the grunt work.

The lights dimmed to near-blackness as power was dumped into the Slipstream drive.

"Five...four...three...two..."
"Jump!"

---

Uncharted System (MW-C-576 - Dominion Designation)
T= +0:00:08

"Slipstream translation completed. All ships accounted for, all systems nominal."

"Launch recon probes and gunship picket. Prep countermeasures. Sync TacNet with any allied ships in the region. Begin acceleration pattern theta. Indulge yourself with the variances."

"Yes, Jak'sa."

Benden gazed at the visual display in his mind's eye as data poured into the Phuur'nan's sensors. Green dots represented his vessels. Yellow represented allied ships. Of course, no Dominon ships were foolish enough to journey under sublight power through the system, but...

RED!

Unknown contacts, multiple, scattered throughout the system. Their heat signiatures were faint, either probes or trying to spoof some poor fool's passives. Or both.

"General quarters, all hands. Set condition two throughout the fleet," he clicked off the comm and addressed his A.I. "What do we have?"

"Unknown, sir. They're pinging away with their actives. Could be a survey, or it could be..."

"Recon. Locate the nearest one and send a wing in to investigate."

((Does anyone pay attention these days? The three ships are in phase space/are phase cloaked, and the probes they launched barely constitute as anything on anyone's radar. Please, pay more attention to a post when reading it. If you have questions, wait to ask the person before you post.))

((I will accept your phase cloaked ships simply because I like the SoaSE homage, and have edited my post. However as for the probes...

http://www.projectrho.com/rocket/rocket3w.html#nostealth

Please feel free to MSN me.))

Jackal's Den, Phase Space

"Sensor ping, Captain," the sensor officer spoke.

"What do we have?" Shepard swiveled his chair to face the sensor officer.

"Multiple contacts, seems like warships."

"Hmm...they must have seen the probes," Shepard responded. "Count?"

"Incapable of confirming, sir," the sensor officer replied. "They're still too far off to confirm visually."

"Sir," the communications officer spoke up. "We're receiving confirmation from the Lion's Pride and the Eagle's Nest to engage."

"Tell them negative," Shepard said. "We need to wait until we've figured out who they are and what they've brought onto the playing field."

---------------------------

The probes continued to send out active sensor pings as they continued to scan the system. They didn't move from their spots, either, so it made finding them that much easier for the Feazanthians.

((Of course. How foolish of me.

Kiith Somtaaw OrBat

1x Praetor-class Supercarrier (IFN Phuur'nan)
-30x HSC-42 "Raptor" Escort Corvettes
-120x DSC-4 "Kite" Defensive Drones
-10x D77 transport dropships
1x Arelian Defender-class Light Battleship
2x Arbiter-class Guided-weapons Cruisers
5x Defiance-class Destroyers
10x Bloodhound-class Escort Frigates
I can provide ship statistics for your planning purposes upon request.))

"Something doesn't feel right..." mused Jak'sa Benden. He tasted the coppery air of his environment suit and licked his cracked lips unconsciously. The probes were holding relative stationary positions and continuing to actively ping them. Whomever had sent them had to know the Somtaaw fleet had arrived, and yet made no move. "Any new heat signatures?"

"Negative, Jak'sa," said the not-quite-young-anymore jefet at the sensors post. Unsatisfied, Benden opened up that relay and let it sift into his mind. The jefet was right, nothing that hadn't been tagged yet.

"Raptor wing approaching target," announced Thalleia. Benden switched his primary focus to the readout of the three corvettes and single D77 transport rapidly approaching the nearest probe. They'd be on it within the hour, good. Then they could nab it and bring it back to the Phuur'nan. If their owners hadn't shown their faces by then, perhaps they could shed some light on this strange development.

((Specs would be appreciated as I'm unfamiliar with what you're presenting me with and you already have some idea with what you're dealing with if you saw the link in the first post.))

"Sir, Captain O'Donnell is requesting orders," the comm officer said, turning to face Captain Shepard.

"Just hold position, damnit," Shepard responded, looking at the sensor station. "Can you tell what they are yet, Janson?"

"Not quite...there." Suddenly, a display of the system, choppy as it was, came up on the main holo-panel that sat just before the main screen. Its three-dimensional display played out, showing the relative positions of the ships in-system with a five-second delay. "General readings show nine capital ships of varying class with ten escort warships. We're still trying to confirm their origin and weapons, but it will take time unless we actively scan them with the probes."

Shepard sighed, looking over the 'field of play.' "I know the probes have self-destruct mechanisms on board. What are their yields?"

"Fifty nine kilotons, sir," the tac officer replied.

"That should do," Shepard mused. "Right, let them pick up at least one probe and bring it back to one of their capital ships. Since they're entirely sealed 'pills,' it'll take whoever is picking them up some time to figure out how to deactivate them, giving us that much time to actively scan them. Once we've gotten the information we need from them, detonate the probes. We'll return to real-space after detonation and finish them off. All hands, prep for combat status. Begin charging the main forward cannons and open turret bays. All fighters and Seraphs, prepare for combat launch once we've returned to real space. All ships, prepare to return to real-space on my mark."

------------------------

As the three ships made their combat preparations in phase space, the probes in real space continued to send the same active sensor pings, their energy fluctuation from the sensors never changing.

"Magnetic grapples away...contact. Target vehicle now under fleet control. Over."

"Romeo Four-Niner-Niner, this is Phuur'nan. Deliver target vehicle to Uniform Tango Zed-Zed-One and Zed-Zed-Two at following coordinates. Over."

"Copy, Phuur'nan. Delivery en-route. Over."

"Romeo Four-Niner-Niner, what is the status of the package? Over."

"Phuur'nan, package is encased in some hard, metallic shell. Not a dent on it from the grapples. Main drive offline. Not gettin' any radiologicals off it, but its hull could be shielded. Over."

"Romeo Four-Niner-Niner, deliver package to Workbees and stay on-station to provide assistance if needed. Over and out."

"Jay-ess seems jumpy, Suds," said the D77's copilot.
"I hear that, Showboat. Can't say I'm too thrilled about havin' this thing attached to us either," responded his partner.
"'least it's better than ferryin' cargo."
"Yeah. And who's fault was it that we have to ferry said cargo, hmm?"
"Look, if I'd known she was the Phia's daughter..."

---

"Thalleia, acquire targeting solutions on all unknown contacts other than the one Romeo-Four-Niner-Niner is towing."

"I've had them, sir, but why-"

"Launch interceptor missiles. One missile per target."

"Sir?"

"We have time before the missiles makeIf they make themselves known and prove to be friendly, we can always detonate the missiles remotely. I'd rather pay a new ally back damages than face an enemy with more intel than I have. Launch the spread, then plot a patrol course slingshotting around the nearest gas giant."

"Yes, Jak'sa."

---

From the carrier's dorsal VLS cells, eight interceptor missiles ejected in a puff of white smoke before engaging their small torch drives and accelerating towards their designated targets. A pair of yellow utility craft, looking like the enlarged head and arms of some overgrown insect, began accelerating away from the carrier as well to intercept the probe now being towed by R499 and the dropship's escorts.

"Eight small contacts have been deployed, sir," the sensor officer stated. "Really small, really fast. Almost didn't see them."

"Probably missiles," Shepard mused again. "I take it they're all on collision courses with the buoys."

"Affirmative on that."

"Very well," Shepard said. "What's our relative positioning to them when we drop out of Phase Space?"

"Their fleet wouldn't entirely be in the kill zone, sir," the sensor officer said. "However, at our current positioning, it wouldn't be impossible for us to keep them in a box once we began jamming and F-T-L interference. If we point in their relative direction to us, that would make it that much harder for them to turn and run. If anything, they'd need to get past us just to get away from us and that is just as much a suicide run as any, what with our broadsides."

"Right then," Shepard said, looking at the three-dimensional tactical display. "Detonate the probes. We'll use their explosions as a mask for our transition to real-space. Transfer detonation and phase control to my station."

After a few seconds, the tactical officer cleared that Shepard now had control. Nodding, Shepard looked forward.

"Here's something you can't do," he whispered quietly.

--------------------------------

As the missiles flew towards their intended targets, a sudden power flux would be noticeable within all nine of the probes. Nearly a full two seconds later, the nine probes exploded in a spectacular fashion, lighting up the field before the Feazanthians. The eight missiles, who had been in-bound to the other eight probes not in captivity, were vaporized on contact with the explosions.

As the explosions began to dissipate, there was suddenly a disturbance as fifteen enormous particle beams, five from different trajectories, lanced towards the Feazanthians in a cross-fire pattern from what seemed to be within the explosions, at first glance. As the probe explosions began to fully dissipate, the Feazanthians, if they weren't too preoccupied with evading 'shots of doom,' would now notice the three unmarked ships, arrayed in a triangular pattern with two ships on both sides (at angles) and one ship directly ahead.

And to make matters worse, said three ships were now vomiting forth unguided rockets from their wings towards them. What made it better (or worse, depending on one's point of view) was that the Feazanthians would soon find all communications and any faster-than-light travel impossible now that the three ships were present.

Alarms blared and the icy mercury of Combat Time invaded his brain.

Data poured in. The dropship and its escorts - gone. Vaporized in what appeared to be a thermonuclear detonation from what was now obvious to be a missile disguised as a probe.

Imminent SENTINEL impacts, from particle beams too close now to evade. Energy was already coursing through the web that protected the ships of the Dominion, hoping their charge would be right in order to deflect the beams completely.

The microscopic quantum wormhole that allowed superliminal communication between the carrier group and the Sojent-Ra garrison was negated. Depending on how long it took them to notice the loss of communications, reinforcements could be anywhere from twenty minutes to two days away. Furthermore, red lines were appearing throughout the Slipstream Field Transient Engine's main diagnostic core. The ships of the battlegroup could not jump.

And now unknown contacts were bearing down upon them. They were massive, though shaped irregularly. They seemed to be built around one or several large particle accelerators, and were vomiting unguided munitions towards the Dominion.

He knew all this in less time than it takes the unaugmented human heart to beat once.

Countermeasures, he commanded. At once, capsules the size of small probes ejected from the port and starboard hulls of the larger Dominion warships and accelerated towards the enemy vessels. As the enemy beams impacted upon the Somtaaw vessels' segmented shields - now obviously either having the wrong charge or no charge at all - the tiny capsules reached the designated distance and detonated. Not on the enemy, but between the enemy and the Somtaaw. Immense clouds of plasma and assorted radiation, results of a proton-antiproton reaction within the countermeasures' fullerene nanobottles ionizing and vaporizing their tungsten jackets, obstructed the line-of-sight between the Somtaaw ships and the enemy. Now they had breathing room.

Begin data correlation from deployed sensor probes and prepare to launch replacements if the enemy decides to get cheeky. Compensate your slingshot course for increased acceleration, redline us but keep us random.

"Sir, may I remind you that-"

Addict the crew to the stims if you have to. Get that gas giant between us and the enemy, now! And patch me through to the rest of the fleet, tightbeam laser only.

"You're on, sir. Rest of the fleet has dropped to Combat Time."

"All hands, this is Phuur'nan Actual. No need to get formal, we may not know the details but we all know we're under attack. Retract defense picket to sphere two, selective fire only. All primary batteries, coordinate with Phuur'nan's computers and begin salvo fire on nearest enemy target. Set solid-to-breaker ratio at thirty to one. Let's send these pirates crying back to momma."

"The fleet has confirmed and are mimicking our course. Nice bravado, sir."

The Jak'sa ignored his A.I.'s quip.

---

In one fluid motion, the bombardment cannons and large-caliber autocannons turned and belched metal in the direction of their attackers based on the data being poured through tightbeam laser from the passive probes the battlegroup had deployed upon entering the system. The white-hot slugs rocketed past the defensive picket and the flak detonations of anti-munitions artillery and through the rapidly expanding clouds of charged particles from the countermeasures. Those that belonged to bombardment cannons kicked in their fusion torch drives as they neared their target. Of those now accelerating, every one in thirty carried a proton-antiproton warhead ready to play merry hell with any energy shielding the enemy had.

Missiles quickly followed the initial volley of kinetics, launched from the VLS cells of the warships and packing more conventional fusion warheads. These were followed by yet two more volleys of kinetics as the gun batteries found their rhythm.

As more countermeasures were deployed to replace the diminishing masks, the entire battlegroup accelerated as one towards the nearest gas giant.

"Enemy fleet is returning fire," the tac officer announced. "Beam lasers are online and intercepting enemy munitio-"

WHUMPF!

"I guess a few would get b-"

WHUMWHUMPH!

Shepard rocked in his chair as several more shots passed through the point-defense barrages and nailed the shields, erupting into spectacular explosions that rivaled the ones of other impacts.

"Damn it," Shepard muttered, rubbing his head from smacking the back of his head into his head rest. "Is it me, or does it-" WHUMPF! "-like they're concentrating their fire on us?"

"You would-" WHUMPF! "-correct, sir," responded the tac officer.

"Full deck barrage," Shepard ordered as another explosion rocked the ship. "Initiate torpedo lock on all enemy ships and open full torpedo barrage, and don't stop the rocket barrage until we run out of ammunition for them. And launch the damn fighters and Seraphs. They might give us a better chance at handling these bastards."

"Aye, sir!"

------------------------

As the beam lasers continued their arduous job of trying to cut down the enemy ballistic munitions, the main deck cannons, in unison, began to adjust their aim, bringing the enemy into visual aim. After a few brief seconds of calibration, the main deck guns of the Jackal's Den erupted to life, blasting away at the Somtaaw Fleet in a spread fire meant to cut through the paths of the enemy ships.

After the initial deck barrage, the torpedo launchers erupted to life and they continued to fire their slow-moving projectiles* at a constant rate, each torpedo picking a random ship and flying towards it. With the rocket barrage still in effect, it would be difficult to discern where these slower projectiles were amongst the hail of munitions unless one was really paying attention.

Then, as if it add insult to injury, Gears** began to pour out of the three ships. While not exactly numerous, per se, they were still very much a threat as they began their rapid advance upon the fleet, taking mere seconds to actually reach them and engage them in a flurry of weapons fire. As the Gears did their job, the Seraphs began to maneuver themselves into flanking positions, opening up with their own particle cannons on the enemy fleet.

The two flanking ships, however, had not deployed their Seraphs as of yet, choosing to begin maneuvering into flanking positions, halting their own rocket barrages and not using their torpedos. The way they were moving made it very obvious that they intended to bring the enemy into broadside firing angles, and they proved it as their own deck guns tracked the enemy fleet and created another vicious crossfire.

((*: said torpedoes are transphasic.))
((**: Tier 2 I-Gears and B-Gears (http://skaugra.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=gear1)))

"Bugbait, Watchdog. Wherries inbound. Low with three, committing."
"Copy, Watchdog. On your six."

"Watchdog, Bugbait, clear grid square and commit to enemy munitions. We'll handle their smallcraft. And for gods' sake stay the hell outta Phuur'nan's firing solution."

The source of the order made itself known as a Bloodhound loomed over the two gunships and their drone wingmen with all barrels blazing. The gunships rotated on their axes and fired their torchdrives even brighter for a few seconds before accelerating towards the battlegroup's frontal arc.

"All craft, this is Phuur'nan. Concentrate fire on large munitions and singlecraft. Leave the small rockets alone, we can take the hits. Cover lower front arc, let the pee-dee guns handle the upper."

"Watchdog, Bugbait. Hard burn thirteen seconds. Watch those enemy craft, they're comin' in hot."

"Copy, Bugbait. Target solution acquired, going evasive."

As the gunships accelerated to avoid the incoming fire of the enemy smallcraft, their own weapons heated and fired. Each of the six gunships in the two wings became a tiny gun platform capable of targetting six individual enemies at once. They dodged and weaved as best they could given the laws of Newtonian physics, taking care to stay out of the firing solutions of the now-active point-defense guns equipped by the capital ships. Autocannon and laser fire arced out at the inbound torpedoes, which became rapidly expanding debris fields rather quickly.

---

Thalleia, are we close enough for a scan of the lead enemy vessel?

"Sir, I am currently compiling a three-dimensional image of target vessel. Uploading now. Accuracy within six tenths of one percent for front quarter."

Jak'sa Benden considered for a moment - considerable with his mind now working as fast as it was due to computer assistance - and chose a target position. The forward cylinder on the ship's prow.

Looks like either a spinal weapons mount, or a really large reverse engine. Coordinate with the fleet, I want bombardment cannons and missiles targeted on this spot. Continue to stagger autocannon fire across the hull, let's keep whatever those pee-dee weapons of theirs are busy.

The ship rocked again and it took Shepard all of his strength just to keep himself seated. That shot had actually penetrated the shields.

"Damage report," Shepard ordered.

"Sir, we're taking extensive damage across the forward hull," the damage control officer reported. "We're getting reports from fire control that the main particle cannons are down."

"Tell fire control to redirect the power from the main cannons into the shields," Shepard ordered before turning to the tactical officer. "Redirect all energy from broadside particle cannons to the forward shields."

"Confirmed, sir," the tac officer replied. "Redirecting power. Shields are increasing to - whoa, power spike from the main cannons just jumped the increase from sixty percent to one nine eight percent to shields."

"Excellent," Shepard replied. "Helm, advance."

"Aye, sir."

---------------------------

"What is that fool doing?!" Captain O'Donnell was looking at a three dimensional render of the battlefield, and he watched as the Jackal's Den began to advance on the enemy fleet. "He's going to get himself killed doing that!"

"Sir, we're in synchronized position with the Eagle's Nest!" The tac officer on the Lion's Pride turned to face his Captain from his station. "Port-side batteries are requesting permission to engage!"

"Tell them to synchronize their first barrage," O'Donnell ordered. "After that first barrage, they may fire at will!"

--------------------

As the Jackal's Den began its offensive advance towards the Somtaaw fleet, the two flanking ships began their full assault, their broadside batteries, as well as their deck guns, blazing away at the fleet that their 'flagship' was advancing towards. In the meantime, as the Jackal's Den advanced, its accompanying Seraphs began firing with their own weapons, targeting the smaller frigates with three dual particle cannons each, trying to draw their fire towards them.

While all that was going on, it seemed as though the Gears were going to have a hard time of it, trying to dodge that anti-fighter point defense weapons while engaging the smaller drone craft and lighter manned craft in a fur ball that practically engulfed the Somtaaw fleet entirely. Occasionally, a wing or two of B-Gears would divert their attention towards the frigates and unleash a torrent of charged particle fire from their Zeus cannons, each blast packing quite the punch despite the size of the fighters.

Still, it seemed as though the two fleets were evenly matched, for the time being...

What are they...no.

"All ships!" commanded Benden, once again going fleetwide. "Adjust course, port strafe thirty kloms, execute!"

The Jak'sa braced himself in his acceleration couch as the Phuur'nan's maneuvering thrusters all along the starboard side fired in tandem, pushing the carrier just to port of the now-approaching Jackal's Den.

Execute ninety degree roll, bring dorsal cannons to bare on enemy vessel and prepare for an old-style broadside...

"Sir!"

The red light angrily winked at him just before the gas wave hit the carrier. The data stream slammed into his consciousness, but he had already surmised what had happened.

Tightbeam, isolated communique to the Gaar'belhi. Give me visual, I don't care about the bandwidth issues.

It took a few precious seconds to secure the connection, but when it had stabilized, Benden saw chaos.

"Sah!" said a man who was no longer fully a man. The left side of his face looked as if it had melted, charred flesh hanging off it like dead leaves on a tree. The man was obviously in great pain, and only being held conscious through the stim drugs being pumped into his bloodstream.

"Marko..." whispered Benden, unable to believe that his friend and fellow commanding officer had been reduced to this.

"Took a torpedo ta th' lateral engineerin' decks. Punched right through th' SENTINEL, Paul. We lost most of our coolant lines, 'n th' main's are down." He took a breath through gritted teeth, sucking air from the cabin through his now-shattered helmet. "Engines are shot ta hells 'n back, Paul. We got attitude control...but tha's 'bout it."

What the destroyer's anamehej said next shattered Benden's heart, though he knew it was coming the moment the Gaar'belhi's damage report had been uploaded to him.

"Paul," he said at almost a whisper, every word a strain. "Ya gotta leave us. We can' keep up wit' th' fleet. Ya know this. Keep goin', we'll 'old 'em off as long as we can."

"Sir..." said Thalleia, the expression on her digital face a sincere mourning. "Three of the frigates have become too badly damaged to continue at our current acceleration, and are requesting permission to remain behind with the Gaar'belhi."

He gave Thalleia a sub-vocal affirmative to pass on to the frigates' jefet'ne.

"Jus' give me love ta Mary, Paul," said the anamehej again. Benden couldn't bring himself to remind the dying man that his wife had died four years ago.

"Sajuuk protect you, Marco."

"Protect us? Ha!" Marco laughed. "You jus' hope we leave somethin' fer ya ta kill when ya swing 'round. All batteries, fire 'till we're outta rounds, then throw rocks at 'em!"

Marco vanished in a hail of static, which was quickly replaced with the blinking red warning of TRANSMISSION ENDED AT SOURCE.

They were staring at him. He knew they were, he didn't need to see their eyes in the nearly pitch CIC. They were kids, only a few of which had seen combat. And here, here they were, about to leave over seventy-five of their kiith-mates to die at the hands of...

Of pirate scum.

He felt the ship shudder as another volley of heavy cannons let loose their fury, and felt the subtle rise in temperature as another handful of particle beams that refused to be deflected impact upon the SENTINEL.

Range to target.

"Four one two eight two kloms and closing, sir."

Well inside the engagement envelope drilled into them as hadat. This sort of close-range brawling was not what the Federation ships were designed for. Sure, it increased the accuracy of his weapons, but it opened up vulnerabilities to all sorts of weaponry he should never should have had to deal with.

Damn them and their cowardly ambush. If only they'd had a way to mimic their technology. If only...

Thalleia. Reconfigure countermeasure launchers four through fifteen. Set them to proximity detonate. Fire at will.

"Sir?"

I said fire.

---

At once, more proton-antiproton mixture cylinders ejected from the carrier and sped towards the Jackal's Den. Only this time, they didn't detonate in the void between the two ships.

Let's see you target us blind, you pieces of shit.