What the hell are you doing messing with your foot at a time like this? Get your backside to your weapon station and fast! he said to himself, with more than a little embarrassment.
He grabbed his webbing that contained his sidearm, communications handset and various tools. It wasn’t essential, but after what had happened on the station, he never wanted to face trouble without having options on his side. As he moved down the corridor, he noticed many of the other crew were doing much the same. Some carried belts with regulation sidearms thrust inside, and other carried first aid injection packs and drugs on them. One man marched past with what looked like an ancient boarding cutlass hanging from his side.
Weird, he thought.
Xenophon moved to his station and sat down. The screen was active and the weapons capacitors already charging up. They showed an active level of sixty percent and climbing. He pulled the straps on and started his checks. Then the weird sick feeling arrived, and he knew immediately that this meant they were coming out of lightspeed and must be near their destination.
“This is the Captain. I have received word that all remaining Alliance vessels are in position around Attica Homeworld. We are the last ship of the line to make it here. The Lexington was destroyed during refuelling three hours ago. We are it, people. All that stands between our home and the Laconian fleet. Check your systems and prepare for battle. Good luck.”
Nice speech, thought Xenophon sarcastically, gazing at the planet as it came into view. The blurred dot grew in size until the ship slowed to what seemed like a halt near to the Attica Nav Beacon. Lights flashed up on his tactical display and showed him the location of friendly and enemy vessels based on configuration and IFF (Identify Friend or Foe) systems. It took only a few seconds for the data to fully register, and the final figures left a sick feeling in his stomach.
The last battle of the war looked like it was going to be one of extermination rather than glory. Xenophon watched his displays and sighed at the sight of so few warships being able to defend the last area of space between the enemy and the Homeworld. With the Alliance fleet annihilated at Aegospotami a week earlier, there were now only seven warships left to defend against an estimated Laconian fleet of nearly four hundred. On his display unit he could see nearly a hundred civilian ships moving into position around the beacon. He recognised at least three long distance passenger liners as well as over a dozen tankers.
This isn’t a fleet. This is going to be a massacre. His heart was heavy with fear and also disappointment. It was only just over a week since his first glimpse of a battle, and now he was about to participate in the fall of the Alliance.
“This is the Captain, ready your stations. They’re coming through!”
The red emergency lighting came on, and the entire command centre darkened with the change. Xenophon looked up from his own displays. The walls around him were decked with display units that gave the impression they all sat in a glass room. He could see space, his homeworld and the assembled armada. Next to his targeting matrix was a full list of all Alliance vessels down to the size of lunar ferries.
One hundred and seventy two vessels in total, and of those, only seven were warships. What are the transports going to do? Ram the enemy?
A glimmer of movement caught his eye; at first it was nothing more than a smudge in space, but it quickly changed. The shape transformed into dozens then hundreds of larger shapes. In less than five seconds, a vast battlefleet appeared. At the centre of the dark horde was a Laconian Titan, the mightiest warship known to man. A myriad of coloured lights flickered along the ships as gun, torpedoes and missiles systems activated.
“Open fire!” shouted the Captain.
The sheer number of targets available dumbfounded Xenophon. The other gunners were already blasting away at the nearest Laconian cruiser, a ship that was two-thirds the size of their own vessel. He selected a dozen key areas and fired burst of laser fire. The great cutting beams of the primary lasers arced down into the ship’s hull and cut great chunks of metal from them. More shapes appeared to the right of his vision.
More ships, this is it, he said to himself, now realising that the end was just minutes away.
The shapes coalesced into the form of three titans. As soon as they arrived, a dozen cutter beams fired out and towards the pitiful Alliance Armada. A dull rumble in the bowels of the Valiant indicated the engines were building up power. They were noisier than expected, possibly due to the engineers pushing them way past their design limits in readiness for the desperation of the battle.
“Keep firing!” called out the XO as he marched about the deck, watching over the officers as they directed turrets and weapons batteries against the horde. Xenophon and the others selected target after target until the area of space around the Nav Beacon was aglow with energy beams and pulses of light. It was almost beautiful, apart from the myriad of exploding ships and wreckage that was starting to fill the area.
“Fourteen ships down, Laconian boarding pods are en route,” called out the XO.
Xenophon shook his head as he continued to blast away. Flashes along the shielding of the Titan showed he was having no effect. He turned his attention to the smaller fighters, frigates and torpedoes. His heavy laser turrets fared better, but he was under no illusions that the Titan would decide the battle.
How did it all come to this?
“Incoming!” called one of the women, but Xenophon couldn’t see who was talking. It was too late. Half of the command centre vanished with a blinding blue light. Alarms flashed everywhere. Xenophon pulled at his straps to release himself, but another blast struck him and his vision turned to darkness. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
CHAPTER FOUR
Occupied Attica
It was three months since the surrender of the Alliance, and the citizens of the colony were still moving about their day-to-day business. He might be from one of the older, more conservative families, but that didn’t make him invulnerable. Though he had requested no security, it was obvious to him that he had at least two plainclothes officers trailing him. They were good, though Xenophon could hardly justify them. Well, he was neither a security or surveillance expert. Whenever he moved closer to members of the public, they seemed to drift closer, as if they expected trouble. He looked away and concentrated on his short walk instead. They had been watching him since he had left the transmit vehicle at the station and made his way inside the civic centre of the city.
It’s weird, but if you think about it, how much has the city changed? he thought.
A large display board caught his eye, one of the few visual changes to the city since the occupation. Normally it displayed rules, curfews and arrest warrants, but this time it was something different. He stopped alongside a dozen other citizens as they watched the screen. It showed a series of explosions and a city collapsing into a great fissure.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
An older woman continued watching but called over to him.
“Laconia, there’s something happening on their homeworld.”
Laconia? It must be another earthquake. Either that or their automaton slaves have rebelled again, he thought.
He watched the unfolding disaster for a little while but with no information, it was just a series of explosions, eruptions and death. Hardly something he wanted to stand and watch for the rest of the day. He turned to leave, but one of the other citizens must have recognised him and blocked his path.
“You’re one of the survivors aren’t you?” he asked.
Great, just what I need, a democratic acolyte.