“How do ya like them apples!” Michael shouted triumphantly.
“Incoming torpedo!” Vargev shouted.
“Oh shit!” Michael shouted, as he remembered the second Krenaran ship. He mashed the accelerate control as hard as he could; and the Liberty hurtled forward, the torpedo in hot pursuit and gaining rapidly.
He jinked the Liberty from side to side, trying to throw off the deadly missiles guidance systems, however the torpedo continued to close.
“Damn it, lose the goddamn torpedo!” Vargev shouted, panic in his voice.
Michael continued to hurl the Liberty from side to side, then as he jinked to starboard, he simultaneously applied the reverse thrust, rapidly decelerating the ship.
With the torpedo’s guidance systems unable to process the speed at which the Liberty decelerated, it shot in front of the ship. And straight into the Liberties own fire arc.
Michael launched one of the Liberties own torpedoes, and the two warheads collided in a huge, blinding explosion, that rocked the entire ship, sending a shower of sparks across the command centre.
The lone remaining damaged Krenaran ship closed fast and bore down upon them. Several Particle cannon shots shot past the Liberties hull; illuminating the ship in a green glow as the beams passed. One however did manage to hit home, the ship shuddered violently, and most of the command crew were thrown to the floor.
“Direct hit, upper port side, reactive hull armour is weakened; but holding.” Televis announced as the data, flooded through his screen.
“God-dammit! Okay so you wanna play!” Michael shouted at the viewer.
The two ships dodged, weaved and jinked with one another at an incredible speed.
“Y’all have to come here, running your mouths, and now you want to get rough!” Michael shouted again.
A green flash shot past very close to the Liberty, lighting up the holographic viewer in a bright green light.
“Oh, we don’t want none o’ that shit!” Michael shouted.
He’s god-damn enjoying this, Vargev thought as he looked at the form of Michael in the pilot’s chair, crazy son of a bitch.
The Liberty continued to bank and weave. Then Michael threw the ship into an almost impossibly tight arc. The ship shuddered as the effects of inertia tested the Liberties sturdy hull to the limit.
The Krenaran ship tried to attempt the same manoeuvre, in a desperate bid to keep on the Liberties tail. However the Liberty was far more manoeuvrable; and invariably ended up behind the Krenaran ship.
“Gotcha!” Michael shouted as his thumb mashed the button on his left finger pad again.
Two high energy torpedoes shot out of the Liberties launchers and rocketed their way towards the Krenaran ship. Unable to evade the torpedoes they struck dead centre, slamming through the Krenaran ship’s hull, which buckled and then blew itself apart completely in a massive fireball.
“That’s for Jana and Theo,” Michael whispered at the viewer as the flames of the wreckage died down. He slowed the Liberty almost to a dead stop, and motioned for the Solarian pilot. “You can have your chair back now.”
“Thank you sir,” The Solarian said with a proud nod.
The command centre was deathly quiet; Michael could feel the eyes were on him as he walked towards the command chair and sat down, “What?” he asked innocently.
The command staff stopped regarding him as though he was totally insane and switched their attention back to their consoles.
“We’ve got a communication coming through. It’s from the transport, audio only,” Televis announced.
“Patch it through.”
The raspy voice of a highly relieved, elderly man filled the speakers. “Thanks a lot whoever you are, that was some of the best flying that I’ve ever seen.”
“Not a problem; do you require assistance,” Michael replied.
“That’s a negatory, we should be okay now, thanks to you guys,” the communication ended.
Some of the eldest commanders in the E.D. F Navy can be found commanding transport vessels; usually when a Naval officer retires, yet still yearns for that thrill of being out in space. He will enlist as a commander of one of the myriad transport vessels serving stations and the larger battleships and front line vessels of the fleet.
“All part of the service,” Michael whispered to the departing view of the battered transport. “Let’s catch up to the rest of the fleet shall we.”
The Liberty shot back into plasma drive. And after about half an hour, it had reformed with the rest of the fleet.
Vargev said out loud, “I wonder what the E.D. F will make of sixty five unknown vessels suddenly dropping out of plasma drive right outside Mars.”
“Well, they’ll either welcome us with open arms or the three dozen or so rail-cannons dotted around Alpha base will blast us out of the stars.”
“So it’s fifty-fifty then, hell, I’ll take those odds, that’s better odds than I’ve had since this whole damn war began.”
The fleet continued on its journey. After another six hours, it had finally passed into the solar system.
“Signal the fleet; tell them to drop out of plasma drive on my order.”
After a slight pause Televis said, “fleet confirms.”
“Well it’s now or never.”
On board the enormous installation known as Alpha base, the biggest installation in all of E.O.C. A territory; a silvery grey haired, grey moustached Admiral Mason looked on despondently.
Another eighteen severely damaged E.D. F Naval vessels had just returned from yet another failed fleet action near Barnards star. The fleet was twice that size originally; and their flagship. The Montgomery class carrier Yellowstone was lost. The casualty rate in this war was fast approaching a million lives; the biggest single loss was at Foxtrot base, the intelligence hub of the E.D. F, there, one hundred and forty thousand people had died.
Admiral Mason was one of the few senior Admirals in the E.D. F left alive, now in his late fifties. Before this war broke out he was getting around to planning his retirement after an
illustrious career commanding three different ships, most notably the battleship Rushmore, before being posted to Alpha base as one of the Admiralty in 2069.
He looked out over the massive operations deck of the gargantuan station, towards the observation ports; he thought for a moment that he could see a very faint white light forming. It was far in the distance, and he had almost dismissed it as starlight. That is, until it began to grow.
“What the hell is that?” He said pointing a finger out towards the expanding halo of white light.
A young officer stood next to him and asked, “what’s what…sir?” Baffled by the Admirals outburst.
He showed the young officer. “That.”
The white light gradually grew brighter, and then blinked out of existence, leaving empty space once again.
Another officer at one of the myriad stations lining the operations deck announced, “scanners are reading sixty five ships approaching, all unidentified, sir.”
“Jesus…go to general quarters; ready all weapons systems. Contact the fleet and tell them to form defensive formation. Put all fighter wings on hot standby and ready to launch on my command.” There was a genuine urgency in his voice. If this is some kind of Krenaran trick, then by Christ they will pay heavily for it.
“Done sir, the fleet has begun to form defensive formation, all fighter wings have been scrambled and are on emergency standby,” the young officer replied confidently.
A little too confidently Mason thought, as thousands of officers and crewmen scrambled to prepare the station for battle.
On board the Liberty Michael grew tense, he could see the faint form of Alpha base in the distance. He was looking for any hint of a clue as to what was happening over there.