Imminent Destruction

23. Die Dorian



The compartments of the Buldethian disc cruisers opened, releasing hundreds of fighters that gathered in three beehive formations before moving for the Dorian from separate angles. The Dark Angel fighters were dark and simplistic in design, a triangular shape with two thrusters slanting outwards from the back. They swarmed from their disc shaped carriers, and soon over a thousand formed three trails.

Two formations of red wasp attack craft merged with the fighters; the four missiles every red wasp carried had depictions of knives on their tips; written on their blades was “Die Dorian.” As they closed the distance, they fired laser blasts of bright red; explosions rocked the Dorian’s bottom, its right side, then multiplied to encompass the ship; blue waves formed as the shield activated.

-----

The Dorian’s labyrinthine bridge became a madhouse, personnel rushed to their positions; mapping, coordinating, graphing, plotting, and surveying the attacking fleet. Vice Admiral Fortali frantically discussed the situation with Major Green. Her tone turned angry and she became unaware of her volume, yet Green stood firm and kept deadpan. She quieted as Admiral Norima moved forward and even pushed them aside as they saluted.

“No time for formality,” Norima said, “Vice Admiral Fortali, have the mercenaries contacted personally. Tell them to protect our flanks and backside. The cannons are useless against fighters, but we’ll pick off everything that approaches from the front with our lasers guns. If the Hulk throws a repulsion wave on the left flank our light guns should handle the rest. All our fighters should take positions on the right flank. Where’s the Rear Admiral?”

“I’m right here sir,” Tennyson jumped from his chair and pulled up his hat before saluting the Admiral. “They’re approaching with anti-cruiser missiles. It appears the Buldethians think they can avoid the disintegration ray by pounding us with long-range fighters and assault craft. I say we devote at least fifty percent energy to the shields.”

“Rear Admiral Tennyson, I want new orders sent to the cruisers, everyone but the Hulk will engage enemy fighters on the right flank. I’ll communicate with the Hulk’s captain myself. Hurry it up, these fighters will begin wearing down our shields in four minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

The screens depicting the Dorian’s hull showed portions in yellow. The yellow expanded across the map as portions of red grew near the center. The floor trembled with the shock of minor impacts.

“Admiral, the pulse radiation shields are failing completely!” said the young man posted at the map. “I’m activating the light shields.”

“What’s the problem?” asked Fortali, jumping into her chair to access her computer. To her left and thirty centimeters lower sat the Rear Admiral.

“Something’s jamming the signal. I’m trying to locate the source but it’ll be a few minutes.”

“One minute ensign, we don’t have longer than that,” Fortali said.

“The light shields are losing power! They’re useless against these missiles,” said another.

“Admiral Norima,” called another, “Enemy fighters have jumped behind us. It appears they’ve used some kind of short range WSA we were unaware of.”

“Contact the mercenaries, now! Activate all lasers. Let’s get moving,” Norima picked up the intercom, “All fighters, dispatch to right flank now.”

The radar officer noticed a discrepancy, she reported it quickly.

“Sir, the Hulk, Kshatriya, and the Garter are retreating. Wait! Now they’re slowing, taking position five thousand kilometers behind us.”

The communications officer hailed the other ships through his headset between calls from the fighters and the attack craft. He put the earphones down in order to yell information.

“Fighters are reporting heavy losses, three laser guns have been destroyed. Unable to make contact with our torpedo ships, believed to be destroyed. No response from the mercenary cruisers, should we try the Imminent Destruction?”

“No!” Norima yelled, “That is not an option.”

Admiral Norima turned on Rear Admiral Tennyson, almost assaulted him.

“Why is the Independent Battle Corp. retreating, what did you tell them?!?”

“They won’t accept our signal, even the Werner.”

“Get me a position on the Werner. Divert all energy to the shields and laser guns.”

The Werner occupied the right flank, its retractable gun fired passively at the Buldethian fighters and hit few targets. Rigor-5a fighters tore into a dark angel formation. A few of the Buldethian fighters exploded into red flumes. The space around them lit dimly for a moment before only floating space junk remained.

The efforts of fifty Rigor-5a fighters relieved the right flank of the Dorian with assistance from the one hundred remaining Karvar types. Laser fire from the Dorian forced the more aggressive Dark Angels to reestablish distance and open themselves to the Rigors. One audacious Rigor pilot tormented an enemy by letting him chase, then he turned a loop and fired upon his former pursuer from the rear.

When a Karvar pilot tried to imitate the maneuver, his fighter snapped in half with a fair-sized plume of gasses. Imperial pilots soon discovered they could not penetrate a Dark Angel shield without at least two direct hits, even the laser shots from the Dorian required at least one direct hit on the engine. They also discovered their vessels had inferior protection. As for the Karvar types, a tap from the enemy’s wing could destroy them. The Dark Angels edged closer through superior technology and numbers. They saved their missiles for use against the Dorian’s laser cannons.

Admiral Fortali watched the devastation on the numerous screens at the front of the bridge. The green flecks on the radar screen were disappearing, despite the most conservative defense tactics imaginable.

“Admiral, I’ve located the source of the shield interruption,” Fortali said, “The Buldethian gun ships are using a coded frequency that is exhausting the generators.”

“Disrupt the frequency. The generators give off gamma rays, right? Contact the engine room and tell them to amplify the effect. That should correct it.”

“Yes, sir.”

-----

Buldethian red-wasps launched a missile assault against the Dorian’s thrusters, but the missiles were absorbed by newly resurgent pulse radiation shields.

Meanwhile, the Monitor launched a counter assault against the frustrated red-wasps. They dispersed as it charged, but the Monitor hit one of them head on, disabling its engine. At point blank range the Monitor’s cannons fired, ripping through a small portion of the red-wasp’s armor and weakening its shields. Yet the immobilized red-wasp continued firing at the Dorian in defiance of the minesweeper’s attack. After ten shots the Monitor’s cannons melted through their centers. A pack of five black wings took the initiative before the disarmed minesweeper could retreat.

The Monitor’s captain lowered his cap to salute the Dorian one last time as the air rushed out of the bridge.

The Buldethian Cruisers waited while staying out of range of the Dorian’s main gun. They held their fire.

From the Neimun, the controller of the fleet grimaced at his screen as he watched the Dorian’s pulse radiation shields reactivate. Still, it was only a minor setback. Everything else went according to plan.

A barrage of long-range homing torpedoes fired from openings in the square ships at twice the speed of sound. The first few hit the Dorian in the left side center, where the shields were worn from nonstop barrages of the Wasps and Dark Angels. They couldn’t hold the torpedoes, tiny explosions spewed from a gash in the Dorian’s silver hull. A charred, twisted chasm now sucked life from the massive ship’s side.

A Buldethian pilot watched as unprotected members of the Dorian’s crew died from exposure to the vacuum of space.

-----

“All countermeasures are jammed from the last attack,” yelled Major Green. “We need to seal the breach! Another batch is incoming, redirect the shields.”

Tennyson activated a new protocol, readying the Dorian’s torpedoes. The intercom was stolen by Norima.

“Request to all fighter pilots, if it can fly, get it out of here. Whatever heroics you have in mind are approved. The empire will honor you.”

“That’s suicide,” said Tennyson.

“It’s suicide if we don’t. We need time to maneuver, and we won’t get it if our pilots won’t put themselves in the path of those next five torpedoes.”

“Green, how would you use our torpedoes?” asked the captain.

“A single barrage. It will confuse them, or at least make them cautious. Any other way and they’re useless.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

A torpedo exploded in front of the ship The silver hull cracked and discolored. Yet the Dorian still moved with the grace and poise that its beauty suggested. Half destroyed fighters flew to her protection, crashing themselves into the enemy homing torpedoes. The Dorian had a chance to control the damage and take evasive action. Now it could respond with the fifty torpedoes in its arsenal, only four of which had homing capacity. The circular hatches of the tubes opened, releasing one swift barrage. The torpedo counterassault sent two spherical cruisers crashing into one another; their sides were smashed in by the impact and their shields died.

The Dorian’s precious few homing torpedoes were aimed at the Armageddon, but the Armageddon’s anti-torpedo missiles destroyed all four projectiles. The Werner continued firing the occasional volley at the enemy craft, which ignored it while furiously attacking the Dorian. The Werner’s accuracy against enemy fighters was atrocious; it hit once out of every fifty shots.

The other mercenary cruisers remained distant, motionless relative to the Dorian, their guns silent.


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