CMDR Derrick Berg
Location: CWS Borodino, Harper’s Junction, Star Kingdom of Windsor
CMDR Berg sat enclosed in his holo-tank as tactical data flowed all around him. Borodino sailed at the head of the small formation he’d been given command of to check out the disturbance on the far side of Harper’s Junction.
“How many are Dutchman?” he asked, inquiring how many survivors the destroyer Embers of Tomorrow had floating out in space with nothing but their environmentally sealed CMUs.
“I’m getting twenty-seven distress beacons, and another dozen from escape pods,” The LT in charge of communications replied. “Prep for search and rescue?”
“Negative,” the CMDR shut that down. “We don’t know what killed her yet. Those uniforms are rated for a two hours of void exposure. We’ll send birds out to pick them up in an hour if we don’t find anything.”
“Aye aye, skipper,” the LT replied as he broadcasted a message to those spacers spinning alone in space.
He had a small drone screen proceeding him so he didn’t bump right into anything, but his orders from the ADM were to find whatever the Windsor’s wanted hidden. He kept his eyes on the sensor scans as Borodino finally came into range of the hidden space…and found nothing.
“Anything?” he asked his EW expert who had her hands flying over her own immersed holo-tank.
“Just debris from the Ember. AI is running the numbers now.”
He watched as lines traced the path of the debris back to Embers known location at the point of contact. Then it analyzed where and how the ship was hit based on the optical data available from reconstructed views of the destroyer. Then it traced projected firing lines back to an empty section of space were there was a fat load of nothing. The AI was ninety-three percent certain of its findings, but at the same time telling him there was nothing there, or even remotely close to there.
“Gunnery,” he sent to the LT and CPO in charge of the battlecruiser’s eighteen energy cannons and eighty missile tubes, “Put a wide spread of low-powered shots in this section of space,” he circled the area the AI suggested the enemy should be. Have our forward facing railguns put some steel down range for variety’s sake.”
The Chief at the gunnery controls chucked. “Aye, sir,” it took a few seconds for the firing solutions to get locked in, and another short period for the cannons to power up, but not for the railguns to fire. Duro-steel shells spat from the front of Borodino and...two enemy cruisers appeared out of thin air right in front of them.
He didn’t have time to think about how they hell they’d done that. The enemy ships were in knife range at twenty-thousand kilometers. .
“Guns, correct…” Berg began, but the chief was all over it. New firing solutions were locked in just in time for Borodino to buck as its bow cannons opened up on the cruisers. Energy splashed across the enemies’ shields as they flashed under the pressure of the battlecruiser’s attack. The destroyers added their weight of fire to the fight, but they were busy maneuvering to get behind Borodino’s shield. At twenty-thousand kilometers they’d get cut in half by an enemy blast.
“Sir, we’ve got something coming up from the planet!” navigation informed as the cruisers finally returned fire. Borodino shuddered as the two dozen cannon blasts raked across its shields, but the larger ship held together. “Sir, one cruiser is breaking away while the other covers its retreat.”
“Focus everything on Bogey One,” he ordered as the helm swung around to bring a full broadside of energy, missile, and railguns to bear on the lone Windsor cruiser. “Fire!”
Forty missiles, twelve cannons, and dozens and dozens of railguns poured fire into the cruiser as it swung to put its more heavily defended flanks between it and its fleeing brother. At such a close distance, he could practically feel the heat as an assortment of missiles exploded across the cruiser’s shields.
Bomb-pumped lasers unleashed their antimatter infernos into the enemy as shotguns followed close behind. In several sections the shields failed. Energy and duro-steel pounded the enemy cruiser. It listed lazily to the side as something important broke, but it returned fire with its own assortment of weapons.
The integrated point defense of the three Commonwealth ships gave them a better shot even at such close range, but Borodino still took a hit. A section of shield buckled and energy poured through the gap for a half-second before it snapped back into place. It smashed into the hull ripping and melting metal plating, and opening two decks open to space. Damage alerts rolled across the CMDR’s screen, along with a dozen spacers whose medical status went from green to red. He quickly checked the two destroyers to ensure they hadn’t been hit.
“One more should do it.” Borodino spat out another broadside which cracked the Windsor cruiser into four misshapen pieces. Over the next few days it would fall into a decaying orbit and crash into Harper’s Junction if no one did anything.
“Status on the second cruiser,” he asked. It was hard to see the second ship behind the debris of the first. “Set a course around…” the bridge blinked red before and a siren blared a moment before Borodino jerked so violently it threw the bridge crew against their restraints, and more than one person was knocked unconscious by the blow.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Damage report, what the hell was…” Berg began before everything went dark.
***
Queen Josephina I
Location: In orbit above Barrowsford, Star Kingdom of Windsor
“Hold on, Your Majesty,” the pilot of the small, fast shuttle had a white knuckled grip on the controls as he flew around the edge of a widening debris field. The Collies’ ship looked poised to strike a death blow against her escape plan when light flashed up from the surface.
Several beams of scarlet energy smashed into the Collies’ battlecruiser. She counted seven in total, five of which wasted themselves on the shields. The last two broke through the rear quarter of the ship and wrecked the engines. Cascading explosions rocked the vessel, but much to her chagrin, it didn’t blow apart killing everyone inside. It was still dead in space, and one good hit from the land-based batteries would finish it off.
The two destroyers using the beleaguered battlecruiser as cover ignored the remaining Windsor cruiser and turned their guns toward the surface. She saw heat blooms against the atmosphere, but quickly turned her attention to the cruiser’s shuttle bay, which was approaching far too fast for comfort.
“Are you…?”
“Hold on!” the pilot cut the rear thrusters, flipped the shuttle around so it was pointing the opposite way, and tapped maneuvering thrusters, so the shuttle flew in the bay ass first.
Amber lights flashed around the bay telling her what she already knew: they were going to splatter across the far bulkhead like bugs on an air-car’s windshield. She closed her eyes and gripped her arms rests as the shuttle violently jerked. The pilot engaged the engines and a powerful burst slowed them down to an acceptable speed. Acceptable meaning they still hit the back bulkhead, but didn’t crumble the shuttle like a tin can.
She was still sitting in her seat and trying to catch her breath when a side door opened up and a pair of royal marines and a gaggle of deck crew gathered around the ship. “Are you ok, your Majesty?” they clamored.
“I’m quite alright,” she summoned all her regal dignity. “Please give me a hand.” One of the marines helped her down and she got to see the black blast mark that had scorched the deck all around the shuttle. “Take me to your captain,” she tried not to think how close she was to going splat.
She could feel the cruiser accelerating away from the enemy, away from her world, and away from the last vestiges of respect she would get from the other High Nobility. “On second thought, take me to my cabin. I need to rest.”
The marines didn’t argue as they took her to the captain’s personal quarters which had already been cleaned out in preparation for her arrival. She sat down on the bed and thought about crying, but crying was a waste of her time and energy. Revenge was a much more satisfactory course of action, and she knew just who she’d start with.
***
CPL Nickelbaucher
Location: Harper’s Junction, Star Kingdom of Windsor
The charges finished eating through the duro-steel, and the HI trooper immediately lobbed grenades into the room beyond. They had no idea what was waiting for them, and just walking into an unknown enemy stronghold was a good way to get dead. Booms rattled the wall as they took cover.
“Move!” the HI trooper barged through the opening and peeled left. Mitch went right.
The smoke was still clearing as his HUD cycled through different views to give him the best tactical picture. What he saw was a massacre. Most of the people in the room were unarmed techs. A few armed soldiers were present, but the grenades had fucked them up good. He almost felt bad for them.
Movement caught his eye and he pivoted to bring his M3 to bear on a man. The man was bloodied and reaching for his desk. Right as he smacked the polyplast panel, Mitch pulled the trigger. The man’s chest exploded when the M3’s 1mm dart tore through him, and he fell to the ground dead, but not before the mountain shook.
The mountain was still shaking.
The HI trooper rushed to a circular station at the center of the destroyed workspace. The body of a torn up soldier, his helmet-less head oozing blood from deep lacerations, was lying over the screens. The trooper gave him a shove and the body flopped to the floor.
“Evac now!” The trooper didn’t look at it for more than a second. “Secondary explosions from the feedback loop are going to…” the whole room shuddered and a large chunk of mountain broke off the ceiling and smashed into a desk next to Mitch.
No one needed to tell him twice as he hauled ass for the exit. His injured team members were still outside the door, and looking around with fear in their eyes. Mitch checked everyone’s biometrics to see elevated heart races and adrenaline in their systems.
“We need to move!” He grabbed both under their armpits and pulled them to their feet. Although injured, they limped forward faster than he’d seen them move when assigned details in the past.
They only made it about ten meters before falling rock smashed into the PVT on Mitch’s left, and knocked everyone else to the ground. “A little help…” Mitch turned back to yell at the HI trooper, but was met with a rock pile that blocked the destroyed control room. “Fuck!” he bent to grab the down PVT and a chunk of mountain the size of his M3 smashed into his back.
He was knocked to his knees and struggled to get up as more rock rained down on him.
“I’m not going to be fucking buried alive,” he yelled just as a multi-ton boulder squashed his feet.
He barely had time to scream before the corridor filled with rubble and his fears were realized.
Somewhere in a warship above the planet his medical status went from green to red. It would take a few days for boots on the ground to confirm the status, but when it did a carefully crafted process would be put into action.
Through QE communications, or a ship traveling back to his unit’s HQ, the data would be transmitted and passed up the chain to the division level. Once there It would be screened and filter by an AI that would evaluate the manner of the soldier’s death and his last will and testament.
One of two things would happen. An analysis of the next of kin would be conducted. Citizenship was a key factor in the decision-making process, but wealth and influence was a close second. If the next of kin was a well-respected and influential citizen then the case would receive a casualty assistance officer to walk the family of the deceased through the process. That was the exception, not the rule.
Since Mitch Niceklbaucher came from an industrial Mid-World, and his next of kin hadn’t fulfilled the requirements for citizenship, a condolence letter, signed by the soldier’s first-line commander was generated, with detailed instructions, and sent to the identified individual in the soldier’s will. The instructions laid out how to collect the half-a-million dollars in servicememeber’s group life insurance, and any other benefits dependents might be entitled to. There was a read receipt to the message, and if nothing was done in six months a follow up call by an AI would remind the next of kin to take action. If no action was taken within one Earth-year of the soldier’s death then the payment was forfeited unless there were mitigating circumstances. After that, Corporal Mitch Nickelbaucher’s life story became just another string of ones and zeros in the massive depository of information kept by the Ministry of War along with tens of thousands of others that died for the Commonwealth during the Battle of Harper’s Junction.