Chapter 15: What is the Key

(Beta Checked by Glenn)

USS John Basilone had put up a good fight, a role she was not meant to be in. She was a Marine Dropship, designed to follow battleships and swarms of Deep space fighters who blazed a path for the dropships. Unmolested as little as possible so they could unload their loads of Orbital Assault Marines upon a planet. Marines were also used to board damaged enemy units. Units that had been disabled and damaged by combat vessels.

It was unfortunate that the captain of the Basilone overlooked and disregarded so many protocols in the name of convenience and encrusted routine.

Captain Bragg realized all this. While he wasn’t one of those magnificent heroes and brilliant leaders that were common within the ranks of Union Commanding officers, he was a Union Fleet captain and had been selected, trained, and groomed to take the so-called big seat. His first command was an aging Marine Dropship, used in a training role for Marine recruits. Per Assembly decision, only the Union Fleet was allowed to operate space ships that were capable of faster than light travel. Some commanding officers would have considered command over this Tripoli Class 1200 meter, 500-year-old drop-ship either a springboard or as a punishment assignment. Captain Bragg loved it, he rejected the offer to transfer to a new Suribachi Class and most likely find himself and the ship right at the front, where the war supposedly was. No, the unchanging itinerary of the John Basilone made her routines about as exciting and challenging as that of a space bus on a major line.

Instead of calling ahead, having a competent scanner operator at tactical and dropping out of Quasi at the outskirts or even outside the actual system to check on conditions, Bragg decided to drop right between the fourth and third orbit to have the recruits prepare for their first orbital assault. He had done so countless times before and technically the lowest ensign of his officers’ staff could have done the necessary motions without difficulty. He was more or less asleep in his chair when the Basilone dropped into a trap. While the Champain system was not a war front system by any standard, located over 1500 light-years from the battlefront and the disputed and fought over space, the Union was at war. The surprise attack on Kappa Andromedae and five other major systems deep in space considered safe should have been example enough to Bragg that war could come anywhere.

Ten Habyr class battleships of the Galactic Council had him on their scanners long before he dropped out of Quasi. Most likely they knew of the Basilone coming here every three months like clockwork anyway.

The Basilone did have a few standard FTL Hellbore Cannons, usually used to reduce surface fortifications to rubble and to provide quite an effective point defense against enemy fighters and incoming projectile drones. However, none of the known Galactic Council societies used Space fighters. The Kermac and the Larkami did not use any ship to ship ordinance and relied solely on their so-called Line Cannon technology.

The Basilone also had strong shields, but not of the latest kind. She did not carry ParaDim shields or the rumored to exist TransDim shields. The department responsible for such things as upgrades and retrofitting Union Fleet assets decided not to upgrade this old ship, as it had been scheduled for decommissioning several times already.

Captain Bragg’s hands cramped around the seat armrests. Unlike most other captains he did not use the Intu Controls of his command chair. The Basilone’s bridge had been upgraded several times, but he simply wasn’t familiar with those controls as he never used them before.

All Union military units currently in service were equipped with the Mark-693 Command Seat unit. The seat was not Variform, but could be configured to virtually every Union Species. It in itself was a true marvel of Union technology and using all the tools, systems, and options, a Command Officer could not only access a plethora of information of every department and system of the ship but also use communications to address one individual or everyone or take control of every system including bridge stations and overwrite commands given to systems and the ship’s AI. In battle mode, the seat offered even more options. Bragg knew they existed and he remembered taking the introduction class, but that was a while ago. Despite all this, he was indeed still a Union captain and had received excellent training.

He knew the ship was close to doom. The shields were completely gone, casualty numbers increased every second. The damage report board was glowing red with only a little sporadic green.

The hull itself, the toughest metal the Union could create, was pierced at a dozen places. Both starboard ISAH pods had been destroyed, he had to admit these cursed Larkami had good gunners.

His ship limped with two pods and a metal fire in engineering. Having to run one way under fire and then another, the Basilone was unable to complete the run to quasi speed each time.

“Com, why isn’t there any help coming from Canadiac or one of the other close systems. They must have some assets available.”

“Sorry sir, I am getting reports they are all under attack.”

The Tactical officer yelled ecstatically, “Good lord, they did it!”

Captain Bragg watched as one of the enemy’s Habyr battleships suddenly opened fire on another Larkami ship. The captain of course had seen the suicidal attempt of untrained marine recruits to take on a full-size enemy battleship in deep space. Bragg had already written them off, considered them early casualties in a fight he would lose himself in a short while. Even a well-trained, well-equipped team of elite forces would not attempt to take on enemy Battleships while there was a deep-space battle going on. Yet one enemy battleship just released a broadside and poured deadly Line-Cannon fire into the sides of another, at this range obliterating enemy shields and setting the enemy ship ablaze.

As heroic and completely unexpected as this incredible action was, they would still lose, there were still over sixty Habyr and a great number of enemy frigates and destroyers. Even if the marine recruits could take actual control of an enemy ship, and operate it, they still had no chance.

Another Habyr just lining up to fire and spell doom for the Basilone accelerated with all engines pumping at maximum plowing right into a third. This ramming action resulted in a tremendous explosion annihilating both units.

--””--

Roy’s Destroyer suit was no longer shiny and new. It was down to its last shield layer but he had taken the automated defenses of the enemy bridge.

With grim satisfaction, he plunged his meter-long mono blade extended from his right underarm deep into the belly of a Larkami officer, while he vaporized the head of another. Ken was right behind him lifting a Larkami, suit and all and ripping the alien in half in an utterly brutal and savage way. Ken’s suit was as battle damaged as Roy’s.

Roy grinned behind his faceplate. “I think we got them all in here.”

Paragon came in through the hole where once the main access door had been. “You know this is technically not a bridge. Only Union ships build their command centers on the top of their ships and call it bridge, a leftover term from the old days.”

Roy’s MAMA had extended many fine tentacle-like things from his right suit fist and interfaced with a still active system. He blinked on the symbol of Dirmon. “Where are you, Mr. Srook?”

“I just entered engineering I think. We have the place secure, none of the Bug Faces survived.”

“Rig the charges as best as you can, then get out of there. We meet at the port hatch we entered in ten minutes.

“Aye, Mr. Masters.”

Roy’s MAMA said. “Access complete, enemy systems slaved.”

He called up a virtual control board and used hand gestures to manipulate the enemy system.

Mike hunkered down behind another control station. “Offensive systems under our control now.”

“Let them have it, the closest one, with everything that shoots.”

“Aye, and what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get visual contact with them. I have this psionic talent, but I need to see them ... ah, here we go.”

--””--

Faragon said. “Well whatever you did worked Roy, but they are on to us. We are now the focus of three enemy units. If we evacuate we will be exposed to their fire and if we stay we will also be toast. We can’t fly this pile of d-poop.”

Roy contacted the John Basilone. He told them who he was and said. “Could you not use that TL of yours to give us some time to evacuate? Those guys are getting close.”

“Mr. Masters we would, but we only have MOTEL loads, no war loads.”

“Having a self-erecting Marine shelter expand in your bridge or engine room might be almost as effective, Sir.”

“Brilliant!”

--’’--

The 42nd fleet was still out, but the USS Azrael was close to dropping into the Campaign system. Unlike the Basilone under Captain Bragg, this 3500 meter Super Carrier had just returned from a major battle deep in the so-called Iron Belt. The Azrael belonged to the 4th and was on her way back to port for repairs. Her home system and port of call was, of course, King James planet in the Home of the Righteous system, but problems with the main drive and a ship-wide upgrade of the ships Type III Wolfcraft fighters to the brand new Type IV made Fleet Command decide to send the Azrael to Hanshin Port in the Kuroi Kaze system, the largest military port in this region of the Upward Outer sector. While the Hanshin was quite a distance from both Righteous and clear across the Galactic Arm gap in the so-called Outer Fringe Region, it was the location of one of the biggest Wolfcraft factories and had a substantial dock and port facilities to effect repairs and upgrades on the Azrael. This also put the Champain system right in the carrier’s path. The Azrael was damaged but had been patched up by her excellent engineering department good enough for the long trip. Her captain was Naranbaatar Ganbaatar, known by friends, enemies, and his crew as the Silent One. This battle seasoned man was from Khüchtei planet, a little known world in the same region as the Kuroi Kaze system. No one, with perhaps the exception of his XO knew it was something he was excited about. Captain Ganbaatar sat like a statue of stone in his command seat. Rigid and stiff. Not a wasted move or gesture, most of the time nothing at all. No word, no real movement for his entire shift on the bridge, but not a speck of dust tried to settle on his bridge without him knowing. His crew was convinced, he heard every word spoken on the huge ship. Someone failing his high standards instantly knew because a crevice appeared above his nose and slanted eyes. On the other hand, if he was pleased, a slight wrinkle appeared above the left side of his upper lip.

Of course, he spoke. A ship like the Azrael could not operate otherwise, but there was no chit chat.

“Captain, Sir. Emergency assistance request of a Union Marine Drop Ship in the Champain system. Ambush attack, a large number of enemy ships. Urgent assistance needed.”

The XO checked his board. “Sir we are the closest unit and could drop to assist in five minutes.”

The Silent One nodded and the XO said loud. “Sound Battle Stations. Squadrons one to six hundred go to hot standby now.”

Indeed, the Azrael carried a little over 14,400 Wolfcraft Type III and already 100 Type IV which had been field replacements for lost craft.

As far as anyone knew only Terrans, the Ult, the Dai, and the Nul ever developed the concept of small one or two pilot space ships solely designed to attack. Small, powerful, heavily armed but either not FTL capable or with only a very limited trans-light range. None of the Galactic Council species had anything like it. Intel reported that the Ikkhme had started to develop ships supposedly for the purpose of Anti Fighter warfare, but none of such new ships had yet to be reported.

The XO of the Azrael leaned back into his seat, so the automatic battle restraints could engulf his body. The Silent One got up instead of getting battle-ready. That meant one thing only. The XO connected to the Flight Boss. “Commander, have the Red Horse readied.” This was the Silent One’s personal fighter craft. Unusual in terms of Fleet standards as the Captain’s place was supposedly on the bridge, but no actual rule stipulated from where the Captain was actually leading. The XO silently sighed.

Captain Ganbaatar knew, listening to the call sign Red Horse still commanded the big ship. “Helm drop us at the maximum apex. We will attack from Helio Apex. Attention all squadrons, latest update: Marines in destroyer suits to be expected in space.”

The Azrael was one of the Union’s most terrible war machines despite her main drive only being at sixty percent. From her long elongated body’s side the stubby barrels of the rotary starters swung into the open. This way of launching fighter craft was unique to the Union. Like the bullets fed on a belt, fighters were fed into an eight barrel accelerator. Just like a Gatling gun of old these revolving starters spit out fighters faster than any other known method.

The USS Azrael dropped into real space and twenty revolving starters on each side spit out Wolfcraft in machine-gun fashion. These sophisticated Deep Space Fighters screamed like angry hornets into the Champain system, while the four Translocator Cannons of the Azrael started to take out enemy warships.

Woe to the enemy indeed, the Galactic Council and the Kermac could poke the Tiger, annoy the giant with painful stabs of their still needle sharp attacks but once the giant moved, doom was certain.

Naranbaatar was not known to temper his wrath, no Larkami survived.

--””--

All this played out on the long-range scanners of the small fleet of T-Cruisers floating in deep space at the edge of their scanner horizon.

They deemed themselves reasonably safe.

The devastating outcome for the Larkami came not unexpectedly. Wizard Viesienul actually banked on exactly that outcome. He didn’t like the fact that this all-out assault of six Larkami Fleets on four superficially defended systems was swatted away with so little apparent effort by the Union. Viesienul still hoped that the Union, now angrier than ever before, would increase their war efforts. He had carefully manufactured evidence that this basically senseless attack against more or less random Union systems had been picked without any real reason.

This failed military action, which agitated the already angry Larkami, would be laid squarely at the feet of the current Supreme Wizard. No one would believe the oh-so brilliant Wizard of the Military had not made these failed plans and his time as Supreme Wizard was about to end. Viesienul, who planned another much more potent and devious action against the Union, would emerge as the savior of the Kermac, and then he would be Supreme Wizard Viesienul.

He opened the folding door that separated him from the lower, less important servants of his magnificent presence and said to the second in command. “Move us to safe space, Servant, and make haste. I’d like to be present when Undreizweh lowers the curtains on his latest sculpt.”

This was expected behavior of a superior and the Second in Command had no problem acting in similar fashion to subordinates; this had been Kermac cultural behavior for as long as the species reached for the stars. But Siebsiebein, the Command Wizard of this five T-Cruiser scout mission still didn’t like to be treated like this. Perhaps because he was in space too long and in command of a ship of most of his adult life. “All eyes are on you, oh most magnificent. How could any piece of art, even one from the hands of Undreizweh compete with the awe-inspiring sight I am fortunate to see when you decide to open these doors that separate godlike beauty and brilliance from us dust dwellers?”

Viesienul could not deny that this particular command giver had a silver tongue and was able to express just how magnificent Viesienul really was.

Siebsiebein was about to give the necessary command to Navigation and helm.

These five T-Cruisers were the finest and quite possibly the most advanced Kermac ships in existence at least in terms of stealth. Vast sums of research resources had been allocated by this secretive group within the Kermac society. Union Sensors were superior as all their TL 8 technology was, especially in the opinion of the Union. Siebsiebein and everyone aboard those cruisers were equally convinced that this blindness caused by a feeling of technological advances was the Union’s most vulnerable point. The fierce cruisers had penetrated deep into Union space, observed the raging battle in nearby systems, even detected the arrival of Union forces to assist the vermin that lived and existed as an affront to Kermac supremacy. The diffusor fields of these T-Cruisers were as good as cloaking devices when it came to becoming invisible to Union long-range sensors.

Siebsiebein noticed it first, something was wrong. The five cruisers had reversed course and their Nuran enticers, engines almost as good as the ISAH drives they had been copied from, were working properly yet the acceleration data did not change.

Siebsiebein sat up straight, increase thrust by 20 percent. He had to be careful, the more energy he used to accelerate the more difficult it became for the diffuser fields to do their thing. None of them wanted to be detected by so many Union warships so close.

Siebsiebein, however, could not explain why none of the five ships, four of them slaved to his master command, gained the necessary speed to slip into Nuran space and thus become superluminal.

All indicators he checked told him the same, everything appeared to be normal.

“Increase thrust by another 20 percent.”

Siebsiebein’s flawless white, which was not in small part achieved by layers of makeup, as he hated the unpleasant, borderline painful bleaching sessions, was disturbed by the first pearls of cold sweat. There was a Union Carrier less than two lightyears distant. It had been identified in the last moments of the Habyr as the Azrael, and that meant Captain Ganbaatar. Even their Immortal demon Stahl might let them live if he would have been here, but if Captain Ganbaatar, the Silent One was doing the discovering, death was certain. Like all high-level commandants, he knew the names of a few hundred Union captains as it was their habit to hail them before they moved to attack.

“Tweninefor, what is wrong with our engines?” he spoke into his command giver addressing the engine maintainer of his ship.

“What is wrong? I don’t understand your question High and exalted one.”

“We haven’t moved or accelerated since we turned course to return to our space.”

“Your High and Exalted one is joking of course. This is physically impossible, I am here in the engineering department of this magnificent example of Kermac ingenuity and all works as it should. Besides the four other ships engines are fine as well.”

“Check on our acceleration then and tell me when we are ready to transition.”