Novels2Search
UnderCurrent -- Volumes 1 - 3
Front 42 – The Paths They Take - Part 1/3

Front 42 – The Paths They Take - Part 1/3

From the moment the home-fleet opened fired, a timer of sorts was set in motion, recording the start of the battle all the way to the present. Over 11 hours had passed since the Admiral's forces had been so mercilessly obliterated.

Within the hour all IAFS's worst fears had been confirmed, the enemy they had thought was the TSU-s fleet had been little more than a skeleton crew operated decoy – The real TSU-s fleet approaching them now from the South, still around 100 ships strong.

The 18 or so warships that hadn't been instantly destroyed by the weapon were in a terrible state, although they made it back to the rear of the weapon to be worked on by their waiting comrades, only so much could be done under such circumstances – Moreover not a single Vijaik had survived the weapon firing, their armour couldn't take the incredible heat the pillar of light gave off, meaning IAFS was left now with only the squads of Nemos and the odd Neo-C or Vijaik-Heavy of the Tristian Fleet's ships.

Before long the true TSU-s fleet was upon them, what had followed was 5 long hours of warships trading blows over an incredible distance. Admiral Nate put the original plan partially back into practise, reorganising the 50 remaining ships around the weapon and all having their best to impromptu retarget and sync weapons to fire upon the approaching fleet.

There were some differences, for one the now 50 or so strong Tristian Fleet positioned itself around the weapon's control centre in a much tighter formation than the Home-fleet had been in.

This had advantages and disadvantages – It meant the enemy would have to get even closer before it could freely fire, for fear of hitting the relatively fragile building that was the control centre – On the other hand it meant IAFS would have less time to shoot at the enemy, if they were set up halfway down its shaft they would have a clear line of fire and be able to then gradually retreat backways – This had been the original plan – But it was now far too risky with what forces they had left.

The firefight was brutal, the pilots, mechanics, engineers and just about anyone not on the bridge of a warship – Could only wait, hoping desperately that their ship wouldn't be hit – Some crew were told to sleep, to get some amount of rest before the enemy really started its assault – But few could under the constant cacophony of every ship's gun in the fleet firing constantly for hours on end.

2 long hours past, the TSU-s fleet was poorly laid out, moving in borderline single file (Perhaps part of how it had managed to remain undetected) and as Admiral Louise had originally planned out, their forces were hesitant to open fire at such an inaccurate distance. So it was that even with their reduced numbers, the IAFS ships valiantly sunk TSU-s vessel after vessel from miles upon miles apart.

But the closer the enemy got, the worse it became – Soon their forces had spread out into a much better formation and by hour 3, the enemy was starting to shoot back.

Seven hours after the weapon had fired, six hours since the massive firefight between the Tristain and TSU-s forces began – And finally the two fleets became close enough to launch Vijaiks and fighter jets at one another.

And so the gates of hell opened in earnest.

The battle descended into utter chaos, at first there were formations, defence lines, orderly squadrons – But as minutes elapsed into hours, everything began to collapse.

TSU-s was clearly not expecting IAFS to still be able to put up such a resistance, nor had they thought they'd lose so many warships in their approach – Foolishly over-estimating the IAFS force, thinking that the weapon had perhaps missed its target, the TSU-s fleet went for an all out point-blank attack, brining their ships within mere kilometres of the enemy around hour 7.

The lines blurred, for some it even became impossible to tell friend from foe – Hundreds of the green and blue, humanoid Neos clashing against thousands of spikey mud-green, mono-eyed 'Ogre' mechs.

Low tier Casnels and Fortresses being overpowered by valiant Nemo sacrifices, dieing IAFS vessels ramming into TSU-s capital ships in the hopes of their deaths holding greater meaning.

Multiple attempts had been made to recapture the control centre, insurgence disguised as life boats, mecha assaults, single operatives in nothing but spacesuits navigated the madness – All were repelled by IAFS.

No rhyme or reason was left, as though TSU-s's true nature had finally been revealed, that of wild bestial animals, crazed for victory – The air was filled with carcasses, for miles around, no matter where you looked there were fallen mechs and flaming warships – Five hours of mecha warfare had passed, it had been around 11 since the weapon had last fired.

Of the 200 ships that had been readied for battle 12 hours ago, barely 60 remained...

And in amongst that utter depravity – One tiny oasis still stood, one last bastion of order – A line of ships and mechs barely holding, their backs almost literally pressed against the precious control centre – Lead by the Am-Fluchtig, the Tristain Absolute Defence line yet held.

Front 42 - The Paths They Take - State of Battle [https://i.imgur.com/8H6ejA4.jpg]

“Squad V, head for sector nine – Unit 251, join up with them. Squad H fall back from that position it's no good to us anymore, head for maintenance, sharpish.” Rattled off acting-Captain Kolme Nilas from with-in the narrow confines of his Neo-C.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The radar array on its shoulder was very much so earning its keep today, attached to it a long, thick cable leading all the way a half kilometre down to the iris shape of the Fluchtig below, insuring a constant connection between Kolme and Nate and increasing the Neo-C's Sensor ability – All while making the Neo look a little bit like a kite.

The inside of the cockpit was no less busy, while the warships had been duking it out, Kolme had gotten Chief Pel to install some extra monitors – Well install was a strong word, all around Kolme these extra monitors had been haphazardly tac-wielded on, the cables in and out of them completely visible.

They streamed a whole manner of information to the Field-Commander, some displayed maps covered in icons representing as many foes and friends as the Neo's poor processors could count. Others were long lists, squad names down to unit lists, each sorted by colours representing if the line in question was alive, dead, or lost out in no man's land, out of Kolme reach.

Sensor equipment, communication routing and more – Kolme's entire cabin was a command centre in itself.

This wasn't to say he was detached from the battle, one only had to look at the biggest of the screens above the rest, the Neo's main camera feed: It was staring out at the battle, a bare mile away – A mile was as much safety area as the defence line could still hold, past it by even a metre and it was simply chaos – Ship's exploding, mechs fighting to the death, allies accidentally cutting one another down.

The defensive line, small as it now was, stood firm above the black officer-block shape of the control centre, a crisscross pattern of ships and Nemo's – The Fluchtig at its core.

A stray shot could hit Kolme at any moment, an enemy could burst past their cover fire and make a beeline straight for him – There was plenty damage even here – He was meant to have an escort squad, but Kolme had long since sent that off to more important matters, now guarded by just a single Nemo a few metres in-front of him, piloted by someone he didn't even know the name of.

“Captain Nilas Sir, the Rear-Admiral.” Said a voice that was far more clear than his other comm-links thanks to the cable tieing him directly to the Fluchtig's command centre – The remarkably tired voice of Charlie.

“Aye, I'm here Sir.” Kolme said back, his eyes never leaving the reams of data as his mind decided who would need to be moved where next.

“Kolme old chap, the FE-16 just confirmed it – Remembrance are still approaching from the East.” Nate announced.

Kolme cursed but otherwise stayed quiet to let his boss finish;

“I'm going to send the Valliere and the Charon to form a rear line, we have to stop their advance force separate to our current line, we're barely holding as is.”

Kolme frowned, “Two ships?! Sir they'll be slaughtered!”

A pained tone took hold of Nate, his voice lowering - “I'm not sending them to die Kolme, you know I wouldn't do that – Every explosive that hasn't been used to rig The Weapon will go with them, a veritable minefield. But that's all it will be, a minefield with two ships at one end unless I send mechs with it – An entire company atleast and they will need a very skilled leader.”

“Oh great, the one thing I've got less of than pilots right now, is pilot-officers!” Kolme scoffed – He was incredibly tired, he'd gotten maybe half an hour's sleep at best, everything in his body was exhausted, his mind ached.

“Kolme, we can only do our best...”

“And what then? If this rear line does stop their advanced force, of 100 mechs might I remind you – What will we do about the fleet that'll follow 'em?”

“...The Tradech should be back before the main Remembrance force arrives...”

“The Tradech!? What's it gonna do against a whole fleet?”

Kolme shouted back.

Nate paused and in that moment a horrible feeling of guilt coursed through Kolme – Nate was even more tired than him, he had left the bridge for nothing but the bathroom over these last 12 hours – He had commanded both the firefight between warships and now the continuing close range warfare – And he was doing his best, more than his best even;

“If we hold a bit longer, one more hour – TSU-s will fall back, they have too their tactics have been disastrous.

Then the Tradech gets here, it stalls the Remembrance fleet while we turn the weapon on them – Maybe... maybe we fire it ourselves, or maybe it'll be enough to force Remembrance back – We can still do this Kolme but we have to hold one more hour, it's that or we'll be sandwiched on all sides.....”

Kolme bit his bottom lip, what Nate said wasn't impossible but the odds were against them – They had 14 ships left in the defence line, many of those heavily damaged – All the rest of their forces were out their in the maelstrom, being torn apart as they spoke – But Nate was right, 'We can only do our best...'

“Ya, ya sorry Nate, that was wrong of me, Admiral Sir. I can get you 12 machines once alpha squad gets back from running disturbance – We'll have to close in the line a bit more though.”

“Yup, Aurin is already working on that.” Nate replied.

“Right then, guess we need a commander who can turn all odds, make the impossible, possible right?

Someone who knows Remembrance tactics and machines would be good too. Looks like I've got'ta go ask my lovely lady friend for a favour.”

****