A group of Terran fighters dove from behind a nearby planet and began attacking the Vindicator. The Captain had anticipated such an attack, knowing that no trained Fleet would leave their flanks as undefended as the Terran flanks had appeared. A number of the fighters exploded in the air as they approached, having been struck by defensive rail guns. Against such a small target, the large bore rockets were overkill and grossly inaccurate. Much like the Revolution, however, the Vindicator was being circled by its remaining Cair ships, awaiting the opportunity to accelerate toward one of the remaining Destroyers. The fighters targeted these ships first, and an unfortunate series of explosions marked the destruction of the majority of remaining Cair ships around the Vindicator. With most mobile defenses eliminated, the fighters began firing their rockets directly at the Cruiser. Another pair of explosions erupted on the side of the Vindicator, rocking the ship as it flew around the battle. Captain Hodge could see the oxygen leaking from the newest wounds to the ship.
“Magistrate Young,” Captain Hodge called, her melodic voice strained from stress. “Contact the Vindicator and get a status report from their most recent damage.”
After only a brief pause, Young replied. “Captain Rochelle reports that the Vindicator is still capable of flight, though they need any assistance they can get to remove the rest of the Terran fighters.”
Captain Hodge nodded. Captain Rochelle was a strong commander and wouldn’t quit unless completely destroyed. “Call back some of our Duun fighters in order to defend the advancing Fleet. If we don’t get rid of those fighters, we’re as good as dead. And let the Vindicator know that help is on the way.”
Though things were going as well as could be expected with the battle, Hodge still hated to see so many Fleet crews being killed while under her command. Even with the Revolution pulling up a secondary position and, therefore, not the main target of the Terran attacks, she had received a number of reports of deaths throughout her ship, results of sudden decompressions after rocket or slug attacks.
The call had gone out to the Squadron, recalling some of the Duun fighters for protection. Before they could arrive, however, Captain Hodge saw something on the view screen that made her heart drop. Moving mostly unnoticed by the rest of the Fleet, a small group of Terran fighters flew toward the Vindicator. A pair of large plasma rockets rotated in carefully rehearsed orbits around the cockpits of the ships. Captain Hodge knew the tactic well, her own Duun fighters being capable of the same technique. The computers on board the fighters were capable of linking to the computer systems within the rockets. Assuming control of their trajectories, the fighters were able to better maneuver the missiles through the din of war and strategically place their launches with surgical precision. Normally, such rocket attacks were thwarted long before reaching a Cruiser. With the Fleet skimming the side of the battlefield, however, they had left themselves exposed to an effective Terran counterattack.
“Merric!” the Captain warned. She knew the danger of letting those fighters slip unchallenged as they approached the Vindicator. “Target those fighters and destroy them quickly!”
Merric followed her view and saw the fighters. The Revolution launched volley after volley at the small ships, but their skilled pilots kept them mostly out of harm’s way. It was only due to the superior quantity of fire launched in their direction that two of the three fighters were destroyed by deadly rail gun slugs. As the ships were destroyed, their missiles drifting away unguided. The last fighter, however, having avoided the same fate as his counterparts, glided along the hull of the Vindicator until it reached the rear of the ship, where the exposed engines burned brightly during its acceleration.
Captain Hodge watched in horror, knowing that she could no longer fire on it with the fighter so close to the Vindicator, as the small ship turned and launched a single rocket into each of the Cruiser’s two-story tall engine exhausts. From the deck of the Revolution, the bridge crew waited for the inevitable explosion that would nearly decimate the Vindicator. Though the plasma engines were difficult targets under normal conditions, a well placed rocket attack would be devastating as it ignited the volatile plasma fuel cells in the rear of the ship.
To everyone’s surprise, there was no damning explosion in the rear of the Vindicator. Two insignificant explosions erupted in each of the engines. To Captain Hodge, it seemed incredibly anticlimactic, though she had trouble believing that such well rehearsed and well placed rocket attacks could have faltered as these apparently had. She couldn’t help but to believe that there was more going on than meets the eye. Moments later, her suspicions were validated.
The engines, usually burning brightly with alternating swirls of blue and purple plasma, began to dim as the engines onboard the Vindicator faltered. Beginning to lose speed, the Vindicator grew steadily closer to the Revolution. Watching in confusion, Captain Hodge watched the superheated plasma in the engines cool, dimming until only a pinprick of light still emerged from the damaged exhausts. Eventually, even that narrow light faded away and the Vindicator floated helplessly in the space without any hope of maneuverability.
“Ma’am,” Young called from the Communications console. “I’ve got a lot of activity on the radio waves.”
“Put it on the intercom.”
The yells of surprise and outrage could be heard clearly as the Vindicator called for help. The garbled mess of voices made distinguishing a single report from the multitude nearly impossible. However, it wasn’t long before a clear voice overwhelmed the other, cutting off their transmissions so he could be heard.
“Revolution, this is Captain Rochelle of the Vindicator,” the stern, heavily accented voice called as the Captain slowly silenced the rest of the emotionally charged reports.
“Open a channel and patch his video through to my console,” Captain Hodge ordered. In front of her, her previously dark screen flickered to life, revealing a surprisingly calm but visibly upset Pilgrim male. Rochelle’s styled hair and thick, handlebar moustache offset his deep blue eyes, which pierced Captain Hodge from the console.
“Captain Rochelle, this is Captain Hodge. What’s your status?”
“My status?” Rochelle asked caustically. “Both my engines have died for no apparent reason. I’m getting reports from my engine room that the plasma in both engines has been converted into some unknown black tar-like substance.” Leaning forward, Rochelle dropped his stern persona as a look of genuine concern crossed his face. “You have to help me, Hodge. I can’t maneuver any more. They’re going to attack any moment and I have no way to avoid their missiles. Help me!”
Before Captain Hodge could manage a reply, the bridge of the Vindicator filled with warning claxons the same time that Eminent Merric began yelling his own report.
“I have multiple launches from the nearest Destroyer,” Merric yelled to be heard over the concerned calls for help. “I’m counting…” He paused as he rechecked his numbers, not believing the first report. “I’m counting over a hundred slug and rocket launches.” Merric looked up, disbelief cast on his face.
Captain Hodge looked back at Rochelle. The Pilgrim’s face revealed that he knew his death was imminent. His stoic visage quickly replaced his look of dread as his eyes locked firmly onto Hodge.