Prologue: Despair II

INS Gift, Strunlek System

2966

I heard and felt the muffled thumps as the missiles fired from their tubes and shortly after the first reports came in by Lieutenant Gater. “Tubes clear… Fleet sync looks good… Missiles are integrated into volley. ETA 2:40.”

“Vampire! Vampire!” came the shout from the sensor Lieutenant. The enemy had launched their compliment. “They are fast! ETA 2 minutes, no 1:30!”

Time to earn our pay.

“Gater, preload laser PD capacitors. Prepare PDC’s for fragment screening on my command.” My order was acquitted with a short “Acknowledged” and I was back to waiting. Their missiles could put on some serious g’s. That was unusual. The time of impact for both missile volleys were ticking down in my helmets head up display while I stared at the tactical map. I didn’t like their missiles. Something just felt wrong about them.

“Gater, full spread fragment screening. Execute!” The sound and vibration that transmitted over the bulkheads as each revolver cannon started to spew out one thousand KETF rounds per minute was not describable. It always gave me goose bumps. Each round only flew a short distance when they disintegrated and released a cloud of small wolfram alloy fragments that put a protective cloud between the enemies missiles and us.

Some missiles were hit by the fragments and vanished from the tac screen. Way to many for my taste made it though the cloud. I was not sure if this was my mind playing tricks but some missiles appeared to adapt course for a less densely part of the fragmentation cloud. “PDC to individual tracking! LPD fire at will! Full chaff compliment! Helm, evasive maneuvers!” I commanded in quick succession.

I was pressed in my chair as the evasive maneuvers overloaded the Gift’s inertial dampers and watched the screen in expectant attention. The missiles flew intricate evasive maneuvers to avoid the point defense fire from the Gift and other picket ships. Once again the high g capabilities showed. Even the laser-pd’s had trouble tracking! Never have I seen such agile missiles! Some missiles averted from their targets and detonated near the chaffs. “Tracking overload!” yelled Gater as the first missiles made it past the protective codon into the main body of the fleet.

I watched in horror via optical sensors as shortly after the shout out the first missile hit the Will of the Emperor, ripping apart its port engines. The detonation and the loss of propulsion let her lurch like a drunken marine and she couldn’t hold her position in the fleet anymore. “Helm, stay with her! She won’t survive another hit! Gater! Give me more chaff!”

Once again I felt the dampers being overloaded as the Gift rotated and burned towards the backsliding ship. The chaffs launched in a dense cloud and redirected some more missiles. “Number 13 jammed!” Gater called out, shortly followed by a “Lasers are overheating!” “Reduce their power!” ‘we can’t lose them in the first volley’ I added in my mind. It was close but no more missiles reached the Will of the Emperor and the volley was over as fast as it started. The cruiser managed to compensate for the lost engines and resulting asymmetric thrust and together we moved to join back up with the fleet.

The first fleet reports that came in over TacLink didn’t look promising. I let out a quite “Fuck” that luckily didn’t trigger my microphone. “Colonel, how is my ship looking?” I asked my first officer.

“She is fine Commander. Automatic took care of the jam in turret 13. Lasers are cooling down, no permanent damage. Sensors indicate no hull damage. The damper overload did some chaos all over the ship. One light wounded is being taken care off.” As I heard his report with half an ear I continued to read the fleet report and my expression became darker and darker.

The Will of the Emperor wasn’t the only damaged ship. It appears the missiles were focused on taking out the fleets heavy hitters. Multiple hits have taken out the Verdict. Her reactor detonated. There were no reports of survivors. The Verdict was a god damn battlecruiser! Most of the larger ships reported some kind of damage while the smaller ships appeared mostly okay.

I focused back on the main screens when the timer indicated that our missiles were close. Enemy point defense lighted up and started to take out one missile after the other. As the dots started to vanish on the map it became pretty obvious, that they wouldn’t reach their targets.

Suddenly there came a warning over TacLink radio from another ship. “Railguns! They are in railgun range!”

I cursed and yelled “Evasive maneuvers!” and I saw the helmsman punch it but he was too late. My vision blurred as the railgun projectile penetrated through the CIC from one side through to the other taking a sensor station with it. From its operator only a floating bloody pulp testified that he had ever existed. Chaos followed suite.

“Get us moving!” I yelled to the shocked helmsman who had frozen up and I felt the Gift shooting forward. “Sensors get a read on those projectiles!” I cursed again as I saw one of the green and unbloodied sensor Ensigns – fresh from the academy - unstrapping and trying to leave his station. The pistol held at gunpoint by the ships commissar and a loud “Back to you station, Ensign! Fight for the Emperor! Deserters will be shot!” made him return to his station next to the hole in CIC the floor without a vocal complaint. A short moment later the tactical map changed and new symbols indicated the enemy railgun projectiles as the sensor crew managed to calibrate the sensors properly.

Our luck was, that the Gift was a relatively small and nimble ship compared to the cruisers, battleships and carriers of the fleet. Although the enemies railgun precision and predicting was superb, the projectiles still needed time to travel the distance between the fleets. Enough time to evade, now that the sensors detected the projectiles. Yet, this time was not enough for some of the heavier units as some blue symbols vanished from the tac screen.

“Dereumaux, whats the status?” I asked the chief engineer over com.

“Three PD’s are offline, some tubes and cables have been cut, backups are looking good but we lost the second capacitor!” From the ships schematics that showed the damage on my screen I could see just how lucky we have been. No damage to the reactor or engines. No hit to any of the ammunition depots.

It felt like ages in this situation but finally we were close enough to open fire with our own railguns. As I relayed the TacLink order to Gater I could feel the muffled thumps as the Gifts guns started to operate. Finally our heavier units could shine. Despite its severe damaged the Will of the Emperor opened fire from its massive rail batteries. Our enemy might have the superior tech, the superior electronics, but all the electronics in the world couldn’t help when it was physically impossible to evade a railgun projectiles. The first railgun volleys didn’t hit much, but as we drew closer more and more enemy blips vanished from the screen.

Yet with the shorter distance and our increasing accuracy, their accuracy increased as well and it didn’t take long for a second hit on the Gift. It was only a grazing shot, deflected by the armor and a fortunate angle of attack. The damage and losses in the fleet started to accumulate.

We came closer and closer and I ordered Gater to switch PDC munition to AP in preparation for close combat. It was this moment when the TacLink started to decay. Orders became incomplete or didn’t get transmitted at all, staying in formation became harder and harder and the shared sensor information became spotty. Briggs flagship the battleship INS Legion had taken a serious pounding by the railgun fire and its heavy armor started to crack. A shot went through engineering and disabled large parts of its communication equipment, making it nearly impossible to relay proper orders.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It was at this chaotic moment of failing leadership when the close quarter slugging began. The still functioning revolver cannons and lasers fired all they had at the enemy, focusing on smaller targets, their firepower not enough to penetrated the armor of larger units. I saw on the optical how the Gift’s AP rounds penetrated the reactor shielding of an enemy gunship, making it vanish in a white explosion as the reactor went critical.

The Gift was not spared in the chaos of battle. Projectiles of all kinds and sizes hit her, punching through the armor and destroying what they found inside. Shrapnel killed personal and destroyed cables and pipes all over the ship indifferently. I saw the numbers in my head up display climb as spacer suites reported their wearer as wounded, incapacitated or dead. Some suites lost connection all together.

Another alarm went off and Gerhard informed me, that I was now on internal O2 supply as the O2 pipes for the CIC got ruptured. The ship jolted to port when one of the main engines failed and seconds later the world went mostly dark for me. Electricity was gone. Only the head up display of my helmet gave some light. Connection to INS Gift lost. Informed me Gerhard of the obvious. Emergency lighting didn’t come online. I activated my helmets flashlights and saw how the CIC crew followed my example. Those that were still able to do so at least.

I felt my magnetic boots come to life and click to the ground when the the sensors noticed that artificial gravity was gone. The ship was dead, without the EM signature the enemies sensors categorized the Gift as destroyed and the weapon fire switched to targets that were still shooting back. At least that was my theory when the tremors and vibrations from the impacts receded.

The helmets automatically switched to a peer to peer connection to each other when the communication over the ships channels failed. This allowed for an emergency communication but was limited to the same room as the metal of bulkheads and doors blocked the radio waves.

I called over for my command staff to assemble. De Mulder was missing. A shrapnel had hit her in the leg and she was being carried off to med bay. Costa and Gater looked at me with anticipation and fierce determination written on their faces. “Are we to abandon ship, Commander? Looks like the Gift is done for.” Asked Colonel Costa. I would have accused anyone less of a soldier than Costa of cowardice before the enemy for that sentence. But he was right. The reactor was offline and the emergency generators didn’t come online. Not even the batteries appeared to work. Under normal circumstances I would order an evacuation but I knew it was very likely no one would come for us.

Lord Admiral Briggs must run from the enemy to save the remainder of the fleet. If there is even something left to save to begin with… Turning back to pick up lifeboats would be a foolish move. If we were to enter the live rafts and startup the emergency beacon we would probably be found by the enemy. Becoming a prisoner of war out here? When they didn’t even try to communicate? Not likely either. I’d bet they’d shoot us outright.

“No” I answered the XO’s question. “We are on our own. Gater, look if you can get the cryo vats online. Without power the air will become thin quite soon.” He didn’t hesitated even one second and was of to follow the command. Young and unexperienced but a smart and eager officer.

The cryo vats or cry-o-vats as they were nick named by the crew, allowed to put a human into cryo stasis for an unlimited time. At least in theory. They still needed power. The electricity was either provided by a generator or by the high capacity chemical batteries that were integrated into the vats. They wouldn’t last forever, but maybe freezing the none engineering crew members would free up enough air and with it time to allow for emergency repairs to power and life support. They were standard equipment on exploration missions in case any resources threatened to run low.

“Tirso, you got the CIC. Try to get the crew organized. I will head down to engineering myself to get a status.” He gave a grim nod and started to shout commands to the reminder of the CIC crew and I went to leave the room. Near the door I found the floating body of the ships commissar. Something had ripped of his left arm including shoulder. I would lie if I’d say I’d miss him. Commissioners were a rather recent addition to the imperial armed forces, a result of the recent unrest in the realm. An rather inelegant way to enforce more loyalty among the servants of the Empire in my opinion.

As I made my way through the ship I started to fully realize in what a bad state the ship was in. I rarely found a compartment without some quite obvious holes in it. Equipment parts and debris floated everywhere paired with dead sailors in various states of dismemberment. Floating blood was the worst. I wasn’t able to avoid all of it. Wiping the blood off of my visor was nearly impossible. Trying so only made it worse.

When I reached engineering the hatch was already open and I found Dereumaux on a platform directing his subordinates. The most obvious damage to engineering was the gaping hole on the port side where I could see directly into space. In the distance I could see explosions from the ongoing battle. I didn’t even want to know how the reactor looked from that side. A flight of stairs up and I was standing right next to my chief engineer. “Whats the situation, Chief?” I asked him to which he just gestured wildly at everything. “She’s gone Sir. The Gift is gone. Its a wonder the reactor didn’t pop.”

“Why aren’t the backups online? We need to get working life support.”

“Second generator is fine, number one is scrap. Most batteries are also gone. All the breakers popped. There are just to many damaged cables, Sir!”

“And the life support?”

“Hadn’t had the time to look at the converter myself yet. The reports don’t look good.”

“I ordered Gater to check out the cryo vats. That will hopefully buy us some time. Focus on getting some power to life support. Run new cables through the hallways if you have too.”

The next hours were a blur of giving orders and just acting to survive. Without proper communication organizing was a nightmare. At least most of the cryo vats were usable. The destroyed vats were no longer needed anyway, now that the crew was considerably smaller. We started to put people on ice. Beginning with the lighter wounded that had good chances on surviving the defrosting and continuing with all personal that was neither part of engineering, medical or command. Most of the junior command officers were put to sleep as well.

Even with so many people on ice the situation turned from bad to worse by the hour. O2 became scarce and we tried to tap every last reserve. Oxygen from spare helmets, undamaged backup cylinders from the CIC and other compartments, medical O2 from the sick bay and even the O2 from the helmets of our sleeping comrades.

At some point we even had to put the serious injured ones on ice. They probably wouldn’t survive the thawing process but the only other way was suffocating to death or the quick way out by bullet. One even asked me for it, but I still put him under. There was no quitting for an imperial soldier!

Only a small crew of engineers, Chief Dereumaux and I were left awake when we finally managed to get power from the backup generator to the life support compartment. The converters were damaged like everything else on the ship. For now they could produce enough O2 for the small crew but they continued to deteriorate.

The next weeks were a slugging of 16 hours work shifts to get as much repair done as possible. We welded, soldered and screwed back together what we could, scavenging less important parts of the ship. We managed to seal some compartments and pressurized them. Combined with some artificial gravity this allowed for the first solid food and sleep outside of a suite in what felt like eons. We also made a makeshift repair to the outer wall of engineering. The armor was gone, but the patchwork was enough to pressurize the compartment. A most important step for further repairs. The spacer suites were good and necessary and saved all our lives but were cumbersome at the same time. The dexterity needed for some repairs made them impossible while wearing the suites.

Despite all our work the O2 converters continued to deteriorate and about a month after the battle only Dereumaux and I were still awake. We were sitting in the makeshift repaired mess hall taking a break. I sat on the ground, leaned against the wall. Playing with a ball that I had found somewhere. Throwing it against the wall, catching it, throwing, catching…

I was filthy. I knew I was. I knew Dereumaux was too. A mix of dried blood, old sweat, grime, oil and other operating fluids covered us. My nose thankfully decided to blank out the smell. We tried to stay clean as best as we could, but water was limited.

“Sir…” Dereumaux started.

“I think we are past the point of Sir, Alex. Call me Rayko.”

“Okay, Rayko…” he laughed “That sounds so weird after calling you Commander or Sir all these years we served together.”

I smirked a bit myself. I knew exactly what he meant. “You wanted to say something?” I reminded him.

“I think I found a way to get the reactor back online.”

I caught the ball a final time and sat upright. “How?”

With the reactor we had a fighting chance. Everything depended on it. With the reactor we could bring the sensors online, we could bring the engines online. We could find out what happened to the fleet, maybe join up and leave this god forsaken system once and for all. At the very least we could scavenge other ships that were disabled in the battle for much needed life support parts. There had to be wreckage somewhere.

“I doubt you are going to like it.” he said with a grim face. And I very much didn’t.