North Defese
28-05-2009, 22:59
December 31, AD 2050: The final war.
Shortly after a belated treaty organized by the U.N. to ban and dismantle all nuclear weaponry, chaos broke loose. The new Warsaw pact, desperate to beat the nuclear deadline, launched a poorly planned attack against the members of the U.N. as a whole.
Barely surviving the nuclear cataclysm, the United States launched all of its remaining missiles in an enraged counter-attack. The warheads were all aimed at several key targets: the space stations. Having lost a century of research and development, the Warsaw Pact would never again be able to reach deep space before nuclear winter claimed them.
With the only surviving space pad, the tattered remnants of the once-proud U.N. nations launched shuttle after shuttle to the unfinished colony ship, filling it almost past capacity with survivors of their nations. Almost before it was safe to, the desperate colonists sent the colony ship on its way, hoping against hope that the massive construct would hold together.
The colony ship, after decades of travelling with its inhabitants in cryogenic sleep, finally arrived at Vega. It was the closest star to Earth. The colonists were awakened by the one who had elected to keep watch, and they gazed at the planets which orbited the star. This would be their new home.
The stories of Old Earth had long since been spun into myth when, 512 years after they colonized their new planet named Terra, Terran scientists had discovered the secret of the hyper drive, revolutionizing space travel. It was now possible to go multiple light-years distance in the span of an hour. Acknowledging this as the sign of an advanced race, the other major races of the galaxy revealed their existence to the Terran confederacy. One by one they revealed themselves: The enigmatic Syrians, the peaceful Altarians, and the expansionist Drengins. Realizing that they weren't alone, the Terrans fearfully built up their military forces...
by the year AC 1528, the Terran confederacy was just as advanced as the three other races, and had colonized planets many light-years around their home planet. Earth had been re-discovered, and declared a hostile environment, and external politics had them allied with the peace-loving Altarians. The galaxy was a peaceful place, trade was extensive, and conflict was scarce.
Such peace could never have lasted, however. One fateful morning, Terran patrols in the outskirts of their territory detected a large fleet, quickly closing in on the outpost. The fleet was composed of Drengin ships.
And so it began...
-----------------
Derrick’s eyes opened. Light filtered in through his eyelashes as he slowly awoke from his alert rest. Something, he felt, was going to happen. He swept his gaze across the interior of his cockpit. Numerous blinking gray and green lights shone as status indicators blinked all across the control board. There were no red lights. The angular form of his light gunboat’s glass canopy gave him a clear visual of an entire hemisphere of space with little effort. The distant burning form of this system’s nameless star was visible to his port side.
The space around him was empty. The numerous stars burned all around him, nothing broke the dotted blackness of space. Something changed in the corner of his eye, and his alert gaze fell upon a newly flashing red light. He hit a small button near the light, and a message played out in his main view screen. Drengin ships had just entered the system.
He looked out of the canopy of his gunboat, searching for visual confirmation of what his ship was telling him. In the blackness of space, steadily growing as they approached, were warships of all shapes and sizes, the characteristic form of the angular and pointed hulls seeming to grow sharper as they approached. Derrick’s heart filled with both dread, and cold determination as the blood-red hulls of the Drengin war fleet became clearly visible.
He hit another button on his control panel, opening a hailing channel to the Drengin flagship. After but a moment’s delay, the brownish-red form of the Drengin general appeared on his screen. “Who is this?” he hissed in his reptilian voice.
It took a lot of willpower for Derrick to resist wincing at the sight. He had always detested the very idea of Drengins. “This is Lieutenant Derrick of the Terran Defense Fleet. What business do you have on the edge of Terran space?” As he spoke, he noticed several fighters launching from the bellies of some of the larger Drengin ships. They were heading directly towards him.
“We come to take what is rightfully ours,” the alien hissed, “and to rid the galaxy of you weaklings once and for all!” With that declaration, the Drengin general broke the communication, filling the screen with static.
Derrick let out a stream of curses as he tightened his grip on the yoke of his fighter’s control stick. The enemy fighters were too close now for him to attempt a hyperspace jump. With a quick glance he identified them as standard group of four Drengin fighters; they were pointed at the front, and from each of their three evenly-spaced wings were lasers fashioned to resemble claws. Their un-protected hulls gleamed blood-red as they flashed past Derrick’s ship, preparing to turn around and begin their attack run.
Derrick would not give them that chance. He pressed his foot against his starboard rudder pedal, turning his ship around to face the threats. He set each of his two targeting computers on the group of fighters. As the computers simultaneously gained a target lock, he pulled the thumb trigger, launching a pair of missiles at the oncoming fighters. He manipulated his pilot’s yoke, overlaying his crosshair over the third target, and pulled the main trigger. A pair of blue bolts flashed from his fighter just as the specialized thrusters on the back of his gunboat provided a counterthrust to the recoil of the rail guns.
Derrick was rewarded with the sight of the rail guns tearing apart the third fighter, an instant before two small nuclear explosions marked the end of the other two targets. Calmly he set his sights on the fourth target, and saw that it was not in firing range of its lasers. By instinct he pulled up on his yoke, causing his ship to dive under the kilojoules of red energy that passed through the space that his ship has occupied just a split second before. He continued his dive for a few seconds, and then he caused his ship to pull up. He readied his trigger finger, and fired the rail guns an instant before the remaining Drengin fighter flashed past his crosshair in mid-maneuver.
The rails tore into the cockpit of the Drengin fighter, breaking the ship apart, claws opening like a predator releasing its prey. Derrick checked his sensor board. The Drengin fleet was closing in on him, and more fighters were swarming towards him. He had to escape. He keyed in the coordinates of the nearest TDF base, and sat helpless as the engines prepared for their hyperspace jump.
He now had time to carefully observe the Drengin fleet. His view was filled with row after row of capital ships, their red hulls reflecting the light of the stars back at him. With growing terror he began to believe that his engines would not warm up in time to push him into hyperspace. The forward fighters reached laser range, and the last thing Derrick saw before his ship tunneled into hyperspace was the red flash of a laser being fired.
Derrick spent his time in hyperspace checking his ship. It was a heavily armored Terran Defense Fleet standard gunboat. Aside from a nearly infinite supply of ammunition for his rail guns, which would last longer than his supply of fuel, his ship is armed with twenty low-yield and four heavy-yield nuclear missiles. He had already used two of the low yield missiles, and he had not taken any hits. The glass canopy of his cockpit window was made up of three triangular panes, the one directly in front of him resembling a windshield. His light gunboat had an oval shape, the longer length trailing behind his cockpit. The front of the gunboat had a small opening for firing the rail guns, and the four missile ports were placed along either side of him.
A gray light flashed and a soft tone played, alerting Derrick that his trip in hyperspace was nearing an end. He keyed his comlink to immediately hail the military base upon arrival. With a flash, the star field snapped back into existence around him, and the military base was visible orbiting around an orange gas giant’s moon directly below him. A gruff looking face appeared on his screen suddenly, and demanded to know why he was off of his scheduled patrol.
Military training immediately kicked in. “General Hanson,” Derrick began, “a hostile fleet of Drengin warships has been sighted trespassing the edge of our space. I’m sending you the coordinates now.”
The general looked startled. The news was disturbing, at best. “How many ships are there?”
“I couldn’t get an accurate count. There were at least one thousand, probably more.”
“Good work, Lieutenant,” the general said, clearly struggling to keep his voice under control, “dock your ship and resupply your ammunition. I will radio HQ and inform them of the situation.” With that, the general broke the communication, leaving Derrick’s screen full of familiar static.
Derrick set to follow his instructions, and began maneuvering his gunboat to an open docking bay. He was about to pass the threshold when a flashing red light told him ships were jumping into the system. It may have been a regular patrol coming back to report, but his instinct told him otherwise. He jerked his gunboat from the course, blasting out of the docking bay. As he had suspected, the ship that was warping into the system was hostile. The frigate had a long triangular shape, with curved spikes like teeth dotted across the hull. Immediately it opened fire, sheets of red laser energy filling the space between it and an unfortunate trader’s convoy. Within seconds, the traders’ ships were reduced to floating globules of molten metal.
General Hanson’s voice crackled onto his radio. “All available units engage immediately!” Almost before the order had been finished, Derrick pulled on the yoke of his gunboat’s controls, and set his ship on a direct course toward the frigate. Four other gunboats were right behind him, and fell into wing formation.
The enemy frigate was firing at anything that moved, injecting deadly energy into the space around it. Derrick fired his rail guns at the frigate’s hull, and brought his ship into a steep dive, barely avoiding a retaliating bolt of energy.
Derrick looked back and surveyed the damage his guns had caused, and silently cursed to himself as he saw the shimmering ripples in space of a red-tinged shield absorbing the energy of the impact. The frigate was equipped with shielding, and would be impervious to even the most concentrated fire from his gunboat’s rail guns. Derrick keyed his comlink to squadron frequency. “All gunboats form up on me and slave your targeting computers to my system.”
As the gunboats turned to heed his command, a bolt of laser caught one of them, disintegrating the unfortunate fighter. Near misses singed two of the gunboats, disabling half of their missile launchers. Derrick waited until the targeting systems were configured to accept his data, and set his and the undamaged ship to fire two heavy- yield missiles each, while the other two could only fire one each. He turned his fighter to face the frigate, and set the missile launchers to get a lock on it. Right before he pulled the trigger, a stray laser bolt hit one of the damaged gunboats. The energy melted through the tempered glass cockpit, burning the oxygen in the air as the cockpit decompressed.
Derrick pressed on the thumb trigger. Fire reports from the two remaining gunboats showed three successful missile launches, and his two missiles fired without error. Streams of laser fire attempted to shoot the spiraling missiles out of space, but the gunners could not keep up with the missiles.
The first two missiles impacted against the outer shields, their nuclear payloads exploding at the sudden impact. An orange fireball expanded around the shield, barraging it with an inferno of nuclear energy. Just as the shield collapsed, the next two missiles impacted against the hull, each one blowing huge chunks out of it. When the final missile impacted, the force of the explosion ripped the frigate in half and all laser fire suddenly halted as oxygen and bodies rushed out of the dead ship. The pieces of the destroyed frigate floated apart and began a spiraling orbit that would soon end with them plunging into the star.
Derrick cut off the other targeting systems from his computer, and set a course for his ship to return to the base just as the radio crackled with orders to return to base and await debriefing.
council room was in an uproar. The nine leaders of the Terran confedederacy sat in raised seats arranged in a semicircle around a single podium. Between the podium and the semicircle of desks was a large holographic projector, which was currently dark. Each council member’s desk had a screen, and some buttons that presumably controlled differing functions throughout the council room. The semicircle of desks was in a rather large rectangular room that had no significant features save for a glass wall that provided a view of the deep space stars. The podium faced the glass wall, which was behind the council members. Standing at the podium was a man of average height and medium build. His hair was a dark, dirty blonde, and everything about him was unimpressive save for one feature; his eyes were of such a bright green color that they seemed to gaze right into the soul of whomever he happened to be looking at.
“Enough!” A feminine voice snapped from the center of the semicircle. “How are we to get anything done if we are all trying to speak at once?” Her tall and slim features suggested an age much younger than she was, but her brown eyes carried an unusual combination of wisdom and the cold stare of authority. She glared at each of the other council members on either side of her until the room was deathly quiet. “Now, Derrick,” she said, addressing the man at the podium, “Tell us exactly what happened.”
Derrick shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Well, chancellor Cathurn,” he began professionally, his voice betraying none of his nerve, “I was on a routine patrol mission in a system near the edge of Drengin space, and I spotted a large Drengin war fleet exit--“
There was the sudden sound of a fist pounding on a desk, startling Derrick. “I knew they couldn’t be trusted!” shouted the man at Derrick’s far left. He was the shortest in the council by a good two inches, and his cropped brown hair is best described as scruffy. He looked at the members of the council in an appeal that seemed over-used with practice. “I told you that we should have struck at them first, but no! You all insist on peace!” His face was beginning to redden with fury.
“Keep your comments to yourself, Aival.” Cathurn said, her glare betraying her soft voice. “Continue,” she said, gesturing to derrick after Aival had calmed somewhat.
“The Drengin fleet was massive. Even as I prepared to jump out of the system to return to the nearby base, I could still see ship after ship arriving in the system.” Derrick could feel his palms sweating, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet again. “When the first of the ships arrived, I hailed their flagship and questioned their intentions. All I got was a declaration that they will ‘take what is rightfully theirs and rid the galaxy of our weak race’ before they sent a group of fighters to attack my ship. I was able to destroy everything that they sent at me, which wasn’t much, and I escaped into hyperspace before their next wave was able to reach me.”
“What kind of ships were they?” a soft, yet eager voice queried. Derrick’s eyes were drawn to a rather young man who sat on Cathurn’s left. His blonde hair and his gray eyes gave his face the appearance of perpetual curiosity.
“Is that really necessary, Neatise?” Cathurn asked.
“Well… no, I guess not,” the young man replied sheepishly.
“Indeed. If there are no further interruptions…” she glanced across the council, who remained quiet. “Then please, Derrick, tell us what happened next.”
Derrick was again conscious of the eyes of the council seeming to stare straight into him. “As soon as I arrived at the base, I hailed General Hanson and reported my sighting to him. He ordered me to return to the base so that I can reequip my ship. I was almost in the docking bay when a Drengin frigate was sighted warping into the system. We were able to destroy the frigate, but we sustained a few losses in the process.” Derrick’s nervousness slackened as he completed his account. “That is everything that happened, Ma’am.”
“The situation seems grim,” the chancellor began. “I have no doubt that they are hostile, but why have they not attacked us any more than this?” She cast a searching look at Derrick. “What are your thoughts on this, Lieutenant?”
Derrick cleared his throat. “I haven’t given it much thought, but the only reason I see for them having not attacked more is that they are preparing a concerted strike.” He shifted in his seat under the continued scrutiny. “I would expect that all of our outposts off of Drengin space will be hit simultaneously.”
“Let them come!” Aival burst. “We’ll just send them running back!”
“Not that simple,” a dark-skinned, bald man on Cathurn’s right spoke for the first time. “We don’t have the resources to defend all those bases at the same time.” His dark brown eyes flashed towards Aival. “Or do you suggest that we lose our ships along with our outposts?”
Aival’s eyes took on a dangerous glint, and his face began to flush red. “Are you accusing me of—“
“That is quite enough, Aival,” Cathurn warned. “We don’t need any of your provocations either, Sandur.” Her voice then adopted a businesslike tone. “This is the situation as I see it: on the edge of our space lies a massive Drengin fleet and they’re ready to attack our outposts at any moment. Our fleets that are spread out, however, are much weaker than normal. We can’t possibly defend all of our outposts at once. But if we pull our forces to a defensible point, we should be able to meet their fleet head on.” She pushed a button on her desk, and a hologram of the stars in local space appeared in the center of the room. She touched a light on her screen, and one of the stars began blinking. “This system would be a perfect point at which to ambush their forces.”
“Earth?” a woman to the right of Derrick asked querulously. Her brown hair matched her eyes perfectly, and her tall stature gave her an aggressive appearance that belied her inherently gentle nature. “Couldn’t we pick a different system?”
“Earth is no longer habitable, Lesana,” Cathurn replied patiently. “And the nature of the surrounding systems would funnel the Drengin ships through there as they advance to other planets. There is no other system that would provide such a perfect opportunity for us to destroy their forces with minimum losses.”
“So I am presenting this plan to the council;” Cathurn continued, “and as you all know, it requires a majority vote in order for it to pass council. Is there anybody who objects to a vote at this time?” She waited a moment before continuing. “Then we’re bringing it to a vote. We’ll start with Aival and go down the line. Your vote, Aival?”
The small man gave a slow grin. “We’ll blow them right out of space. I vote aye.”
A quiet man of medium build, brown and shaggy hair, and blue eyes was on Aival’s left. “If we just try to work this out, we could settle this peaceably. I vote nay.”
Next in line was a man whose tall stature and soft face were a direct contrast to Aival’s features. “I agree with Alanden,” he said, “I vote nay.”
“That is all well and good, Chegran,” Sandur said, “but the fact is that we’ve been attacked, and must defend ourselves. My vote is aye.”
It was Cathurn’s turn to speak next. “I’m sure you all know my vote, but for the sake of formalities, my vote is aye.”
Neatise fidgeted a bit before speaking. “How do we know,” he began, hesitating, “that the fleet is under orders from Drengin high command? I don’t think it’s certain, so my vote is nay.”
“It’s bad enough that they’ve entered our space,” the woman to Neatise’s left said, “but you suggest that we let them do as they please? I vote aye.”
“But we haven’t had a chance to work it out peaceably, Sagiel!” Lesana burst, relieved that it was her turn to speak. “We have to find another way. I vote nay.”
Cathurn chuckled. “That’s four votes aye and four votes nay. It looks like your vote decides, Krayton,” she said, gesturing to the well-muscled man at Derrick’s far right.
Krayton’s green eyes had been watching the procession with little more than a curious detachment. As he realized that his would be the deciding vote, his eyes lit up in a well-contained amusement. “I see the logic in all of your views. While I do not support open war…” He paused, letting the tension build before he cast the deciding vote. “The fact of the matter is that we’re being attacked by hostile forces as we speak; why would we not defend ourselves? My vote is aye.”
There was uproar in the council as several of the members tried to protest, and others would drown them out with their own comments. Cathurn soon called it to order. “The votes have been cast,” she shouted. She waited until the room was quiet before continuing again. “The motion passes.” There was a quiet murmur among the council members. Cathurn set her gaze directly on Derrick. “Lieutenant!” she barked.
Purely by reflex, Derrick straightened and saluted, his nervousness gone. “Sir!”
“Have you witnessed and understood what has transpired in this council?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“Then return and report our decision to General Hansen. Dismissed.”
Derrick turned on his heel, and marched out of the council room.
Shortly after a belated treaty organized by the U.N. to ban and dismantle all nuclear weaponry, chaos broke loose. The new Warsaw pact, desperate to beat the nuclear deadline, launched a poorly planned attack against the members of the U.N. as a whole.
Barely surviving the nuclear cataclysm, the United States launched all of its remaining missiles in an enraged counter-attack. The warheads were all aimed at several key targets: the space stations. Having lost a century of research and development, the Warsaw Pact would never again be able to reach deep space before nuclear winter claimed them.
With the only surviving space pad, the tattered remnants of the once-proud U.N. nations launched shuttle after shuttle to the unfinished colony ship, filling it almost past capacity with survivors of their nations. Almost before it was safe to, the desperate colonists sent the colony ship on its way, hoping against hope that the massive construct would hold together.
The colony ship, after decades of travelling with its inhabitants in cryogenic sleep, finally arrived at Vega. It was the closest star to Earth. The colonists were awakened by the one who had elected to keep watch, and they gazed at the planets which orbited the star. This would be their new home.
The stories of Old Earth had long since been spun into myth when, 512 years after they colonized their new planet named Terra, Terran scientists had discovered the secret of the hyper drive, revolutionizing space travel. It was now possible to go multiple light-years distance in the span of an hour. Acknowledging this as the sign of an advanced race, the other major races of the galaxy revealed their existence to the Terran confederacy. One by one they revealed themselves: The enigmatic Syrians, the peaceful Altarians, and the expansionist Drengins. Realizing that they weren't alone, the Terrans fearfully built up their military forces...
by the year AC 1528, the Terran confederacy was just as advanced as the three other races, and had colonized planets many light-years around their home planet. Earth had been re-discovered, and declared a hostile environment, and external politics had them allied with the peace-loving Altarians. The galaxy was a peaceful place, trade was extensive, and conflict was scarce.
Such peace could never have lasted, however. One fateful morning, Terran patrols in the outskirts of their territory detected a large fleet, quickly closing in on the outpost. The fleet was composed of Drengin ships.
And so it began...
-----------------
Derrick’s eyes opened. Light filtered in through his eyelashes as he slowly awoke from his alert rest. Something, he felt, was going to happen. He swept his gaze across the interior of his cockpit. Numerous blinking gray and green lights shone as status indicators blinked all across the control board. There were no red lights. The angular form of his light gunboat’s glass canopy gave him a clear visual of an entire hemisphere of space with little effort. The distant burning form of this system’s nameless star was visible to his port side.
The space around him was empty. The numerous stars burned all around him, nothing broke the dotted blackness of space. Something changed in the corner of his eye, and his alert gaze fell upon a newly flashing red light. He hit a small button near the light, and a message played out in his main view screen. Drengin ships had just entered the system.
He looked out of the canopy of his gunboat, searching for visual confirmation of what his ship was telling him. In the blackness of space, steadily growing as they approached, were warships of all shapes and sizes, the characteristic form of the angular and pointed hulls seeming to grow sharper as they approached. Derrick’s heart filled with both dread, and cold determination as the blood-red hulls of the Drengin war fleet became clearly visible.
He hit another button on his control panel, opening a hailing channel to the Drengin flagship. After but a moment’s delay, the brownish-red form of the Drengin general appeared on his screen. “Who is this?” he hissed in his reptilian voice.
It took a lot of willpower for Derrick to resist wincing at the sight. He had always detested the very idea of Drengins. “This is Lieutenant Derrick of the Terran Defense Fleet. What business do you have on the edge of Terran space?” As he spoke, he noticed several fighters launching from the bellies of some of the larger Drengin ships. They were heading directly towards him.
“We come to take what is rightfully ours,” the alien hissed, “and to rid the galaxy of you weaklings once and for all!” With that declaration, the Drengin general broke the communication, filling the screen with static.
Derrick let out a stream of curses as he tightened his grip on the yoke of his fighter’s control stick. The enemy fighters were too close now for him to attempt a hyperspace jump. With a quick glance he identified them as standard group of four Drengin fighters; they were pointed at the front, and from each of their three evenly-spaced wings were lasers fashioned to resemble claws. Their un-protected hulls gleamed blood-red as they flashed past Derrick’s ship, preparing to turn around and begin their attack run.
Derrick would not give them that chance. He pressed his foot against his starboard rudder pedal, turning his ship around to face the threats. He set each of his two targeting computers on the group of fighters. As the computers simultaneously gained a target lock, he pulled the thumb trigger, launching a pair of missiles at the oncoming fighters. He manipulated his pilot’s yoke, overlaying his crosshair over the third target, and pulled the main trigger. A pair of blue bolts flashed from his fighter just as the specialized thrusters on the back of his gunboat provided a counterthrust to the recoil of the rail guns.
Derrick was rewarded with the sight of the rail guns tearing apart the third fighter, an instant before two small nuclear explosions marked the end of the other two targets. Calmly he set his sights on the fourth target, and saw that it was not in firing range of its lasers. By instinct he pulled up on his yoke, causing his ship to dive under the kilojoules of red energy that passed through the space that his ship has occupied just a split second before. He continued his dive for a few seconds, and then he caused his ship to pull up. He readied his trigger finger, and fired the rail guns an instant before the remaining Drengin fighter flashed past his crosshair in mid-maneuver.
The rails tore into the cockpit of the Drengin fighter, breaking the ship apart, claws opening like a predator releasing its prey. Derrick checked his sensor board. The Drengin fleet was closing in on him, and more fighters were swarming towards him. He had to escape. He keyed in the coordinates of the nearest TDF base, and sat helpless as the engines prepared for their hyperspace jump.
He now had time to carefully observe the Drengin fleet. His view was filled with row after row of capital ships, their red hulls reflecting the light of the stars back at him. With growing terror he began to believe that his engines would not warm up in time to push him into hyperspace. The forward fighters reached laser range, and the last thing Derrick saw before his ship tunneled into hyperspace was the red flash of a laser being fired.
Derrick spent his time in hyperspace checking his ship. It was a heavily armored Terran Defense Fleet standard gunboat. Aside from a nearly infinite supply of ammunition for his rail guns, which would last longer than his supply of fuel, his ship is armed with twenty low-yield and four heavy-yield nuclear missiles. He had already used two of the low yield missiles, and he had not taken any hits. The glass canopy of his cockpit window was made up of three triangular panes, the one directly in front of him resembling a windshield. His light gunboat had an oval shape, the longer length trailing behind his cockpit. The front of the gunboat had a small opening for firing the rail guns, and the four missile ports were placed along either side of him.
A gray light flashed and a soft tone played, alerting Derrick that his trip in hyperspace was nearing an end. He keyed his comlink to immediately hail the military base upon arrival. With a flash, the star field snapped back into existence around him, and the military base was visible orbiting around an orange gas giant’s moon directly below him. A gruff looking face appeared on his screen suddenly, and demanded to know why he was off of his scheduled patrol.
Military training immediately kicked in. “General Hanson,” Derrick began, “a hostile fleet of Drengin warships has been sighted trespassing the edge of our space. I’m sending you the coordinates now.”
The general looked startled. The news was disturbing, at best. “How many ships are there?”
“I couldn’t get an accurate count. There were at least one thousand, probably more.”
“Good work, Lieutenant,” the general said, clearly struggling to keep his voice under control, “dock your ship and resupply your ammunition. I will radio HQ and inform them of the situation.” With that, the general broke the communication, leaving Derrick’s screen full of familiar static.
Derrick set to follow his instructions, and began maneuvering his gunboat to an open docking bay. He was about to pass the threshold when a flashing red light told him ships were jumping into the system. It may have been a regular patrol coming back to report, but his instinct told him otherwise. He jerked his gunboat from the course, blasting out of the docking bay. As he had suspected, the ship that was warping into the system was hostile. The frigate had a long triangular shape, with curved spikes like teeth dotted across the hull. Immediately it opened fire, sheets of red laser energy filling the space between it and an unfortunate trader’s convoy. Within seconds, the traders’ ships were reduced to floating globules of molten metal.
General Hanson’s voice crackled onto his radio. “All available units engage immediately!” Almost before the order had been finished, Derrick pulled on the yoke of his gunboat’s controls, and set his ship on a direct course toward the frigate. Four other gunboats were right behind him, and fell into wing formation.
The enemy frigate was firing at anything that moved, injecting deadly energy into the space around it. Derrick fired his rail guns at the frigate’s hull, and brought his ship into a steep dive, barely avoiding a retaliating bolt of energy.
Derrick looked back and surveyed the damage his guns had caused, and silently cursed to himself as he saw the shimmering ripples in space of a red-tinged shield absorbing the energy of the impact. The frigate was equipped with shielding, and would be impervious to even the most concentrated fire from his gunboat’s rail guns. Derrick keyed his comlink to squadron frequency. “All gunboats form up on me and slave your targeting computers to my system.”
As the gunboats turned to heed his command, a bolt of laser caught one of them, disintegrating the unfortunate fighter. Near misses singed two of the gunboats, disabling half of their missile launchers. Derrick waited until the targeting systems were configured to accept his data, and set his and the undamaged ship to fire two heavy- yield missiles each, while the other two could only fire one each. He turned his fighter to face the frigate, and set the missile launchers to get a lock on it. Right before he pulled the trigger, a stray laser bolt hit one of the damaged gunboats. The energy melted through the tempered glass cockpit, burning the oxygen in the air as the cockpit decompressed.
Derrick pressed on the thumb trigger. Fire reports from the two remaining gunboats showed three successful missile launches, and his two missiles fired without error. Streams of laser fire attempted to shoot the spiraling missiles out of space, but the gunners could not keep up with the missiles.
The first two missiles impacted against the outer shields, their nuclear payloads exploding at the sudden impact. An orange fireball expanded around the shield, barraging it with an inferno of nuclear energy. Just as the shield collapsed, the next two missiles impacted against the hull, each one blowing huge chunks out of it. When the final missile impacted, the force of the explosion ripped the frigate in half and all laser fire suddenly halted as oxygen and bodies rushed out of the dead ship. The pieces of the destroyed frigate floated apart and began a spiraling orbit that would soon end with them plunging into the star.
Derrick cut off the other targeting systems from his computer, and set a course for his ship to return to the base just as the radio crackled with orders to return to base and await debriefing.
council room was in an uproar. The nine leaders of the Terran confedederacy sat in raised seats arranged in a semicircle around a single podium. Between the podium and the semicircle of desks was a large holographic projector, which was currently dark. Each council member’s desk had a screen, and some buttons that presumably controlled differing functions throughout the council room. The semicircle of desks was in a rather large rectangular room that had no significant features save for a glass wall that provided a view of the deep space stars. The podium faced the glass wall, which was behind the council members. Standing at the podium was a man of average height and medium build. His hair was a dark, dirty blonde, and everything about him was unimpressive save for one feature; his eyes were of such a bright green color that they seemed to gaze right into the soul of whomever he happened to be looking at.
“Enough!” A feminine voice snapped from the center of the semicircle. “How are we to get anything done if we are all trying to speak at once?” Her tall and slim features suggested an age much younger than she was, but her brown eyes carried an unusual combination of wisdom and the cold stare of authority. She glared at each of the other council members on either side of her until the room was deathly quiet. “Now, Derrick,” she said, addressing the man at the podium, “Tell us exactly what happened.”
Derrick shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Well, chancellor Cathurn,” he began professionally, his voice betraying none of his nerve, “I was on a routine patrol mission in a system near the edge of Drengin space, and I spotted a large Drengin war fleet exit--“
There was the sudden sound of a fist pounding on a desk, startling Derrick. “I knew they couldn’t be trusted!” shouted the man at Derrick’s far left. He was the shortest in the council by a good two inches, and his cropped brown hair is best described as scruffy. He looked at the members of the council in an appeal that seemed over-used with practice. “I told you that we should have struck at them first, but no! You all insist on peace!” His face was beginning to redden with fury.
“Keep your comments to yourself, Aival.” Cathurn said, her glare betraying her soft voice. “Continue,” she said, gesturing to derrick after Aival had calmed somewhat.
“The Drengin fleet was massive. Even as I prepared to jump out of the system to return to the nearby base, I could still see ship after ship arriving in the system.” Derrick could feel his palms sweating, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet again. “When the first of the ships arrived, I hailed their flagship and questioned their intentions. All I got was a declaration that they will ‘take what is rightfully theirs and rid the galaxy of our weak race’ before they sent a group of fighters to attack my ship. I was able to destroy everything that they sent at me, which wasn’t much, and I escaped into hyperspace before their next wave was able to reach me.”
“What kind of ships were they?” a soft, yet eager voice queried. Derrick’s eyes were drawn to a rather young man who sat on Cathurn’s left. His blonde hair and his gray eyes gave his face the appearance of perpetual curiosity.
“Is that really necessary, Neatise?” Cathurn asked.
“Well… no, I guess not,” the young man replied sheepishly.
“Indeed. If there are no further interruptions…” she glanced across the council, who remained quiet. “Then please, Derrick, tell us what happened next.”
Derrick was again conscious of the eyes of the council seeming to stare straight into him. “As soon as I arrived at the base, I hailed General Hanson and reported my sighting to him. He ordered me to return to the base so that I can reequip my ship. I was almost in the docking bay when a Drengin frigate was sighted warping into the system. We were able to destroy the frigate, but we sustained a few losses in the process.” Derrick’s nervousness slackened as he completed his account. “That is everything that happened, Ma’am.”
“The situation seems grim,” the chancellor began. “I have no doubt that they are hostile, but why have they not attacked us any more than this?” She cast a searching look at Derrick. “What are your thoughts on this, Lieutenant?”
Derrick cleared his throat. “I haven’t given it much thought, but the only reason I see for them having not attacked more is that they are preparing a concerted strike.” He shifted in his seat under the continued scrutiny. “I would expect that all of our outposts off of Drengin space will be hit simultaneously.”
“Let them come!” Aival burst. “We’ll just send them running back!”
“Not that simple,” a dark-skinned, bald man on Cathurn’s right spoke for the first time. “We don’t have the resources to defend all those bases at the same time.” His dark brown eyes flashed towards Aival. “Or do you suggest that we lose our ships along with our outposts?”
Aival’s eyes took on a dangerous glint, and his face began to flush red. “Are you accusing me of—“
“That is quite enough, Aival,” Cathurn warned. “We don’t need any of your provocations either, Sandur.” Her voice then adopted a businesslike tone. “This is the situation as I see it: on the edge of our space lies a massive Drengin fleet and they’re ready to attack our outposts at any moment. Our fleets that are spread out, however, are much weaker than normal. We can’t possibly defend all of our outposts at once. But if we pull our forces to a defensible point, we should be able to meet their fleet head on.” She pushed a button on her desk, and a hologram of the stars in local space appeared in the center of the room. She touched a light on her screen, and one of the stars began blinking. “This system would be a perfect point at which to ambush their forces.”
“Earth?” a woman to the right of Derrick asked querulously. Her brown hair matched her eyes perfectly, and her tall stature gave her an aggressive appearance that belied her inherently gentle nature. “Couldn’t we pick a different system?”
“Earth is no longer habitable, Lesana,” Cathurn replied patiently. “And the nature of the surrounding systems would funnel the Drengin ships through there as they advance to other planets. There is no other system that would provide such a perfect opportunity for us to destroy their forces with minimum losses.”
“So I am presenting this plan to the council;” Cathurn continued, “and as you all know, it requires a majority vote in order for it to pass council. Is there anybody who objects to a vote at this time?” She waited a moment before continuing. “Then we’re bringing it to a vote. We’ll start with Aival and go down the line. Your vote, Aival?”
The small man gave a slow grin. “We’ll blow them right out of space. I vote aye.”
A quiet man of medium build, brown and shaggy hair, and blue eyes was on Aival’s left. “If we just try to work this out, we could settle this peaceably. I vote nay.”
Next in line was a man whose tall stature and soft face were a direct contrast to Aival’s features. “I agree with Alanden,” he said, “I vote nay.”
“That is all well and good, Chegran,” Sandur said, “but the fact is that we’ve been attacked, and must defend ourselves. My vote is aye.”
It was Cathurn’s turn to speak next. “I’m sure you all know my vote, but for the sake of formalities, my vote is aye.”
Neatise fidgeted a bit before speaking. “How do we know,” he began, hesitating, “that the fleet is under orders from Drengin high command? I don’t think it’s certain, so my vote is nay.”
“It’s bad enough that they’ve entered our space,” the woman to Neatise’s left said, “but you suggest that we let them do as they please? I vote aye.”
“But we haven’t had a chance to work it out peaceably, Sagiel!” Lesana burst, relieved that it was her turn to speak. “We have to find another way. I vote nay.”
Cathurn chuckled. “That’s four votes aye and four votes nay. It looks like your vote decides, Krayton,” she said, gesturing to the well-muscled man at Derrick’s far right.
Krayton’s green eyes had been watching the procession with little more than a curious detachment. As he realized that his would be the deciding vote, his eyes lit up in a well-contained amusement. “I see the logic in all of your views. While I do not support open war…” He paused, letting the tension build before he cast the deciding vote. “The fact of the matter is that we’re being attacked by hostile forces as we speak; why would we not defend ourselves? My vote is aye.”
There was uproar in the council as several of the members tried to protest, and others would drown them out with their own comments. Cathurn soon called it to order. “The votes have been cast,” she shouted. She waited until the room was quiet before continuing again. “The motion passes.” There was a quiet murmur among the council members. Cathurn set her gaze directly on Derrick. “Lieutenant!” she barked.
Purely by reflex, Derrick straightened and saluted, his nervousness gone. “Sir!”
“Have you witnessed and understood what has transpired in this council?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“Then return and report our decision to General Hansen. Dismissed.”
Derrick turned on his heel, and marched out of the council room.