An aged man sat atop a chair that sufficiently overlooked a series of stations manned by a multitude of personnel that buzzed about with technical chatter. In the center was a table waist-high that took up the center of the moderately sized bridge. The room was dark and the dim lights of the monitors and select light fixtures illuminated the room as if battle ready. There was a large monitor that sat in the rear of the room that Wolf faced, with several faces that shared the limited screen space. Each wore their respective branch's service uniform.
“If what was sent is true, then we have no choice but to go to their aid,” Spoke a woman in a gray and blue. She was the Fleet Admiral of the Navy and was nearing the end of her tenure, disappointment apparent in her face when faced with the recent news.
“Thank you, Ma'am,” Wolf replied, “If their forces are sufficient, then I would like access to units from the 4th O.D.R. Battalion. As far as I am aware, they are the most combat ready and closest to my fleet.”
A man in black and silver replied on the subject, his face aged and scarred, evidence of his time ground side, and a General of the Orbital Drop Raiders, Titus Brooke, “That authorization has been granted. I'm sending you the same unit that assisted you in Alameda. The 4th is all we can provide at the moment. Other units are preoccupied elsewhere, so use them wisely.”
Wolf nodded with affirmation, “Thank you, Sir. We haven't time to lose. If they've already attacked Draxis, then it's only a matter of time before they overtake the system.”
“That's,” The Ma'am spoke, “Another item we wished to talk to you about.” Wolf grew curious and prompted her to continue, “It's about a facility on Draxis.”
The man in silver and black interjected, “We have a compound planet side that's home to several top-secret projects. A star map collection of current and future colonies near and past Dema System, as well as a wealth of R&D technology. Not a place we want raided.”
The Ma'am acknowledged with a nod, “There's a reason we didn't have a strong military presence near the system. It would have drawn unwanted attention from the Colonial Pirates, and our navy is stretched thin as it is. But a xeno threat was outside our calculations.”
“What troubles me is their form of Faster-Than-Light. From the reports, it looks like they don't utilize traditional Slip-Space. However, we do apparently utilize similar sunlight travel. So I’m curious if we can capitalize on this,” Wolf's strategical aspect began to turn, “Sequentially, it seems like their ships aren't any better than ours. Three well-placed shots of a size 6 rail cannon decimated a medium-sized ship that tried to capture the survivor.”
“About that,” another many spoke, this time one sporting green and dark brown. It was the General of the Orbital Guard, “Can you generate a report on their FTL capabilities? I think I speak for the rest of us when I say, we want to know how they get around, and if we can take advantage of it.”
“Of course, Sir,” replied Wolf, “I have a special operations ship on standby to scout the enemy. I'm sure they’ll pull what kind of data we need.”
“Good. Then, on a separate note, what do we know of the crew that entered the system?” inquired the Orbital Guard General, whose name had escaped him.
“As per the report generated from Commander O'Clair, Kam Faron was struck with debris from their ship when they scuttled it and passed shortly after. They applied regenerative therapy and resuscitation, but he was too far gone,” Wolf replied. “As for Jay Kurt, he suffered minor trauma to the abdomen and the head.”
“Truly a shame. How is he faring?” the general in green commented.
“Doing well,” Wolf answered, “However, we gave him the option to return planet side and ferry him home, but he refused. Said we wanted to enlist, immediately.”
“And what did you tell him?” said the Madam.
“It wasn’t me, but Commander O’Clair. He was already set on joining the Raiders, so O’Clair is organizing an enlistment package for him.”
“Then we'll see to that he gets, properly, trained,” said the Raider General, “We'll have him join the local recruiter's station on Alteia. If he wants to be a Raider, we'll see if he has what it takes,” he said and terminated his call.
“I’ll notify all Orbital Guard Stations to be on alert, and I’ll send out a notice to all system militias to be wary for any xeno threats,” said the green General before cutting out. This left only the Ma'am and Wolf.
“I should be going as well, I have a meeting with the Secretary-General about this latest development. I rerouted the rest of the 7th to your sector, and they should be there within the hour,” she informed, “All ships have been told the nature of this mission and are able and willing. They're eager to fight.”
“That's good to hear. This will be the first combat engagement for many, I just hope they are prepared,” replied Wolf.
“They will be, Vice Admiral. Carry on with the plan of the day,” the transmission cut, leaving a blank screen and leaving Wolf to face a dark mirror that was the monitor.
“Commander Randal,” the person in question turned and stepped away from the holo-table where he and other officers analyzed likely targets for the enemy in the Draxis System.
“Yes sir?”
“As soon as all ships are accounted for, prepare a jump to Draxis. Ensure we are EM CON Alpha upon exit. Expect our comms to get jammed.”
“Aye, Sir,” Randal gave his orders and the crew followed them to the letter. All they had to do was wait for reinforcements.
Wolf approached the holo-table to analyze the upcoming field, when a simple holographic figure sporting only simple eyes and in the shape of a turquoise oval appeared.
“Lumi, the log from the Maiden of Blue, what can you tell me about their encounter?”
“You mentioned it was a jammer ship. What were they jamming?”
“What about the distress beacon with the Star Runner? I was informed it was transmitting in the Delta Band,” Inquired Wolf.
“That's, very informative, Lumi. Thank you,” Wolf replied.
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“Let's see…” And he returned to his seat, the bustle of the bridge filled his view, eagerness, and rage, apparent.
Sensors picked up multiple ships exiting Slip-Space, totaling a fearsome expeditionary force. When the jumps were done, they were blessed with a bountiful number of destroyers, patrol boats, corvettes, cruisers, frigates, and additional carriers. A report was generated on the total count.
>45 Patrol Boats; 10 Corvettes; 9 Frigates; 5 Destroyers; 4 Cruisers; 2 Carriers; 1 Assault Carrier.<
It was practically a small invasion force in and of itself. The only time a fleet of this size was mobilized was during The Solomon Advance at the height of territorial expansion some 400 years ago. A religious group that garnered an immense following and tried to wage a bloody war for their home system after they had seceded. This occasion would mark the second time, against an enemy that they knew nothing about except that they razed, killed, and took into slavery the survivors. As far as he was concerned, this was extermination and Humanity will respond in kind.
“Set up an all-call with all available ships, military frequency only.” Wolf waited until he was given the go-ahead from a helmsman and grabbed his personal intercom transmitter, the wire tied to his chair.
“Attention all Stellar Fleet Vessels. This is the TRSC Carrier Sword of Reckoning,” he began.
“Right now, we are being exterminated. Hunted by an enemy with no warning nor reason. They do their best to block our communications to be free from hearing our pleas! Saving themselves the trouble of knowing who or what they are fighting.”
He paused, “Dema Colony was the first, and now they currently assault Draxis! Were it not for a lone ship carrying the evidence of their advances, we would not have met them with the force we have now. The second largest in our history with an occasion to mark in all history books! Do your duty and do so with the aggression bestowed upon you by the grace of your humanity!” Resounding cries came not just from his bridge but across his ship and throughout his fleet.
“All vessels, prepare for Slip-Space!” He gave his orders and all large vessels opened a sphere in front of them and proceeded through their respective portals.
All current naval vessels had their Slip-Space drives tuned to match their respective types and class. In the case of an attack group, such as theirs, The largest ship would generate the slip space portal, and it allowed for the smaller ships to hitch a ride. In this case, like a school of fish, The ships were separated into predetermined attack groups and set their exit points at the most likely point of contact with the enemy. The largest attack group would launch an assault on Alteia itself, while the second-largest group would secure the research stations on the moons of Galla. A third group would act as a perimeter early warning system.
When it was verified all ships had entered slip-space, their portals closed as the last entered. It was noted to the admiral that their collective journey would take only four hours of travel.
“Have the crew well rested before we exit. We need them all in the right mindset,” Commander Randal ordered.
“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Randal.” Wolf replied with a smirk, “I'm sure my motivational speech has them all fired up. They're eager to do their duty.”
“You're right about that,” Randal commented, “I was speaking with some pilots, they're ready sir. We'll be hosting a briefing for the pilots in an hour. You should join us.”
“I'm quite fine. I shall remain here.”
“Shame.” Randal with a sigh as he exited the bridge.
Wolf took his seat and turned toward the rear monitor as the fleet traveled in the mystery that was Slip Space. After several hours, Wolf had returned to the bridge, and now they had less than a minute before exiting their jump.
“Exiting Slip-Space in 10!” announced the master helmsman.
The crew jolted forward as their ship exited the space and before them was a small verdant planet that was flush with vast forests and mountains.
“Get me sights on the enemy! And establish comms and get ready to launch the alert aircraft,” commanded Randal. The intercoms on the launch bays sounded off and alarms blared. Wolf observed the flight deck monitors and noticed all kinds of fighters spooling their engines and the personnel on the ground ensuring they were fit for flight.
“Commander, we have enemy locations pinged near the planet. They have a light blockade spread out on the planet and a large concentration in the space above Shield Base Gamma,” reported the intelligence officer, “We're still trying to contact the forces on the ground, still can't reach them.”
“Understood, Once they're in M.A.C. range, fire at the smaller ships first,” replied the vice admiral.
“Aye Sir,” they replied, relaying the orders to other ships capable of firing a similar weapon. The M.A.C. is a Magnetic Accelerator Canon that fires a projectile weighing several hundred tons, at a fraction of the speed of light. Depending on the model of the ship, the size of their cannons varied, and thus, so did their power. Nonetheless, when it connected to a vulnerable target, the effects were devastating.
“In range sir.”
“Fire!”
Their ship sat in the rear, but that didn't mean they couldn't view the spectacle that was tens of syncopated shots to devastating effect. Most of the ships that fired were now nearing the planet and already found themselves in the thermosphere. They met their enemy at their level and the ships engaged in broadside fire. A tactic the enemy seemed ill-equipped to engage in.
Their Fighters launched alongside the patrol boats, which provided supporting fire with a wealth of missiles and point defense. Several enemy ships hastily departed, including their largest ship with a large detachment of escorts that gathered from the surrounding planet, leaving the ones over Shield Base to fend for themselves.
“Sir, picking up hundreds of signatures planet side. Underground.”
Randal looked at the relaxed Wolf and returned his look to the officer, “Friend or foe?”
“Friendly sir. We're also picking up chatter from the ground. Looks like we destroyed a jammer ship in the initial attack. Playing it now.”
“This… Captain… Roy,” the audio started before the signal gained clarity,
“I repeat! This is Captain Roy, Head of Draxis Militia! Shield Base Gamma has enacted the Athene Protocol. The base is overrun, and Final Authorization requires Stellar Command Official Approval! They're sending everything they have!”
Wolf glared at his holo-table as the battle unfolded. His fleet was quickly gaining space superiority with their sudden attack, but in the atmosphere, the enemy was launching an all-out offensive on the base. It was only a matter of time before the base was overrun, and the enemy would break into the area containing the most sensitive data the research station had to offer.
“Get O'Brian on the line, Now!”
“Aye, sir.” The comms officer replied, and the screen to his rear lit up to life. A man wearing black and gray armor stood before him, his helmet held at his waist and his rifle slung around his chest that rested on the left side of his waist. He had a large scar on his left eye, and his armored helmet shared the likeness of a demon. The glass visor only visible as a set of demonic eyes and maw made by a series of scratches upon the thick visor. A gold-painted brand was present on his shoulder pauldrons and chest, signifying his role as Field Commander of his company.
“You're up. Give 'em hell and ensure no enemy leaves with the base intel. Your men have authority on how you neutralize the enemy.”
“Done,” He said gruffly, turning toward members that shared a similar style in personalized modifications to their armor. Except they all wore their helmets and the scene shook the bridge crew, including Randal, while Wolf remained with a steady demeanor.
“Get in your pods and prepare for a hot drop. Eliminate with extreme prejudice. Let’s also see if we can’t catch a few.”
He ordered the group before the video cut off. The crew looked at one another, especially Randal, “Is, that legal, sir?” he asked.
“Oh, the helmets? No, not by a long shot,” Wolf replied with a slight cackle.
“Why don't they get issued new ones?”
“The last time a superior officer tried to enforce O'Brian and his troupe to regulation, well, it's said he resigned and requested a transfer to… the guard.” He said with a laugh, “I heard he's living it up in Alpha Centauri.”
Randal was at a loss for words for the blatant disregard for regulation and the severe damage to government property.
“Maybe I should notify General Slaughter. He's the Orbital Raider in charge. He has to have some pull to deal with disobedience such as O'Brian.”
“Do that, and no ship will safely harbor you.” Wolf said with a hearty laugh, “I guarantee that,” he finalized with a wink.
“In any case,” Wolf continued, “Let’s see how a a Raider fights, and a Raptor, no less.”