“Gunners, concentrate your fire on the battleships turrets,” said the voice through the communication node.
Xenophon concentrated on the port side of the battleship and zoomed in. Its entire flank appeared to bristle with weapons, and most were already blazing away at the myriad of Alliance ships trying to break out to the beacon and safety.
Here we go.
His first salvo struck multiple turrets, but there was no visible damage. The shield easily deflected the energy. Instead, he targeted one section of the ship where a small battery of missile tubes were located and watched for the timing. It was something he had read about weeks before. The shielding of capital ships was multi-layered with separate generators producing fields at different points on the ship. Gun turrets and antenna could not be completely shielded as the signals or projectiles would be blocked. The shielding systems were designed to flicker to allow signals to move in and out or at the split second a shell or beam weapon fired. He had postulated the idea of programming the weapon systems to automatically fire on turrets as they fired. It wasn’t easy. The timing was an issue, but it might work.
He took careful aim at a single missile tube and counted the gap between shots. It didn’t take long, and he timed it as two seconds between the fifth and sixth missile. As he ran the numbers in his head, another missile launched. It was the first in the sequence. In the blink of his eye the turrets opened fire, each sending a salvo of powerful bolts towards the target. The first arrived too early and once more glanced off the shields. The last two managed to strike in the window of opportunity. A flash of energy erupted around the target, and two turrets and the missile system blasted from the superstructure of the ship.
“Good work, son, you must have hit a launching missile,” said the XO.
Xenophon grinned to himself, and pleased he had achieved something of note. He moved to the next weapon system and counted the weapon launches.
“Gunners, copy the shield skipping routine of our new gunner. We jump in sixty seconds, keep those turrets busy. Each one that is destroyed or fires at us is another ship of ours that can get home,” said the XO.
He looked back to the displays and watched the small number of the Alliance making for the beacon. It was only a short journey, but a necessary one to allow them a safe, direct journey back home. Two cruisers managed to jump, but two more were caught in a devastating crossfire between three Laconian battleships. He winced as he watched the vessels tear apart in a violent series of explosions that wracked the capital ships from bow to stern.
“They’ve adapted already,” called out the XO. “The battleship’s shield phasing has changed to what seems to be a random sequence. Concentrate your fire on incoming missiles, leave the shields to our cutters.”
Xenophon was disappointed by the news. He was convinced he had found a working solution to the superlative protection offered by the layered shielding. As he considered the issue, he concentrated on the scores of torpedoes and missiles racing through the battle. The computer system could quickly identify likely targets for the missiles, and any that were heading for Alliance ships were flagged red.
Let’s take them out, he thought confidently.
By reducing the power levels of his guns, he was able to fire long bursts of over twenty seconds in one go. Streams of small bolts pours from the barrels and the curtain of energy shredded dozens of the weapons.
“Keep going, almost there!” called the Commander, this time completely bypassing the XO who was evidently busy coordination the fire of the cutters and fighter crews. Xenophon caught him out of the corner of his eye talking to the CAG, the commander of the fighter group on board the Valiant.
“Hold tight, we jump in twenty!” he shouted.
Twenty seconds, come on, we can do it! thought Xenophon.
It was incredible, but after so little combat, he was now excited at the prospect of an ignominious defeat, providing it meant they lived to fight another day.
I don’t want to die, he admitted to himself.
Three more warships jumped in and started to blast away at the depleted shields of the Valiant. The difference in sound was vast, as the lasers, plasma and other energy weapons cut and burned their way through the armour and hull of the ship. Shield impacts sent a concussive ring through the ship, whereas the impacts against the ship seemed almost insubstantial. The alarm warnings and alerts through the deck told another story however. Xenophon blasted more missiles and then turned his attention on a small group of four Laconian bombers. These small vessels were difficult to hit but were heavily armed and a serious risk to the small ships out there. He managed to destroy the first and hit the engine of the second before a bellowing tone hammered at his head.
“Cease fire! Five seconds to jump!” called the XO.
Xenophon spotted one final bomber making its way to one of the scores of transports trying to escape. For a second he hesitated, and then sent a single, final burst of laser fire to the target. The stars blurred and then with a flash they were hurtling through space using their FTL engines.
“All stations report in, I need engineering and casualty reports ASAP!” ordered the XO.
Xenophon moved to disarm his weapon system but it didn’t matter, the command staff had already deactivated the capacitors and weapons control from the gunners.
I wonder if the Laconian ships have such a problem with crew and security on their own ships? he thought.
It was a constant source of both surprise and disappointment to him that although those citizens serving in the Armada had proven themselves many times, they were never given enough responsibility to excel in difficult situations. Each person had a fixed task and limited access to anything else. It was hardly surprising that Alliance ships were so over crewed; they needed far too many people to carry out the smallest of tasks. From what he had heard of the Laconian ships, it was the exact opposite. Rumour had it that they carried less crew, far less. Each member was better trained and expected to be able to carry out any role from navigation or engineering through to targeting and battle tactics. Plus, of course, every single Laconian was an expert fighter with edged weapons and firearms.
He turned around to look up to the rest of the command centre. The Commander and the XO stood in the middle and watched as dozens of reports and messages came in from different parts of the ship.
“Good work, people. Get your systems and crew patched up, we are heading home at maximum speed. Tankers are due to meet us at the first rendezvous point in approximately fifteen hours.”
Xenophon looked back to his own display and brought up a map of this part of the galaxy. It contained limited data, but he knew from memory where most of the main Alliance bases were.
Okay, Fort Plymouth is about two hundred parsecs from Attica, so that would take about fourteen or fifteen jumps to get home. So about two weeks, maybe less depending on how many tankers were available. This is going to be one long trip home.
Grandcruiser Valiant, Attica Nav Beacon, 11 Days Later
“Action stations, due for arrival in T-Minus five minutes. All crew to your stations. This is not a drill, all crew to your station.”
Xenophon rolled out of his bed and barely managed to avoid crashing off the side and striking the ground. His temporary quarters were inside the forward weapons battery, a cramped location that seemed to be the warmest and most uncomfortable part of the ship. He dropped to the ground and immediately felt the pangs of plantar fascia on the base of his foot. The ligament that ran from under his heel to the front of the foot had started hurting in the last few days. It wasn’t serious and was probably related to the increased physical work helping with the repair and engineering on board the Valiant. But knowing what it was didn’t make him feel any better. He rubbed the foot for a second before the sirens woke him up.