Constitution: Book 1 of the Legacy Fleet Trilogy by Nick Webb Page A

central carriers acting as bases for thousands, tens of thousands of fighters. Earth’s defenders were simply overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, not to mention the superior technology and firepower.
    “Comm, have a q-jump data pod ready to go. I want to have something ready to send just in case....” He let the words hang in the air—his bridge crew would know exactly what he left unsaid.
    “Aye, sir. Data pod loaded and currently downloading all available telemetry.”
    LaPlace nodded. “Good. Append the bridge’s audio recording as well. They may as well hear what we’re talking about.” He turned to his nav officer. “Ensign, I want q-jump coordinates laid in and your finger hovering over the initiate button. Understood? We’re talking hair-trigger here.”
    Satisfied that the ensign was ready to hightail them out of there, he redirected his attention back to the sensor log.
    “Ops, am I seeing this right? Those are not Swarm fighters. At least, not according to our historical data.”
    “You’re right, sir. These are slightly larger. We’re detecting around two hundred of them, all around the size of one of our V-wing fighters. Maybe double the size of an X-25.”
    A Swarm fleet from seventy years ago would have sported many times that number of fighters. And the central carrier in the middle of the screen was possibly even more massive than the old Swarm carriers. But the design—it looked vaguely ... human? Nothing like the Swarm cruisers from the history books, with their dozens of nacelle arms and vast jagged pylons that presumably acted as fighter bays.
    As LaPlace watched, about three dozen of them broke off from the main engagement over the city and moved sharply towards one of the partially destroyed IDF cruisers.
    “Captain, I’ve got power readings from that Zafano class cruiser. Transponder signal is that of the ISS Vallarta. Their main reactor has restarted and several of their mag-rails are energizing.” The officer looked up at the screen to watch. “They’re firing at the incoming ships, sir.”
    LaPlace glanced up. Sure enough, the battered cruiser, still steaming air, smoke, and debris, had angled itself such that several starboard turbo-mag-rail cannons had a clear shot at the large fighters. He could almost imagine the pulsating rhythm of the shots—the cannons fired around five rounds per second at speeds approaching ten kilometers per second.
    Several of the enemy fighters flared up into fireballs, but the rest accelerated at incredible speeds towards the Vallarta , and fired their own streams of high-velocity projectiles at the ship. The rounds exploded with ferocious energy into the side of the IDF cruiser, which spewed debris and fire—quickly extinguished by the vacuum of space. Soon, a gaping hole was exposed. But that was only the beginning. One of the large carriers, a massive behemoth of a ship lit by sickly green running lights, veered towards the Vallarta and unleashed a dazzling green energy beam.
    The beam blazed toward the hole in the starboard side of the Vallarta . LaPlace glanced down at his sensor readout and knew what was about to happen without asking his ops officer, who nevertheless called out, “I’m reading a radioactive signature, sir! That beam’s got anti-matter in it, and it’s interacting with the—”
    But the flash on the screen cut him off. Even though it was only a holographic viewscreen and therefore limited in the amount of energy it could put out, they all automatically shielded their eyes. When the screen desaturated, the ISS Vallarta was gone.
    A moment’s silence permeated the bridge.
    “Ensign, have you scanned those fighters for life-readings yet? I want to know who we’re dealing with and then get the hell out of here.”
    “Working on it, sir. There’s some kind of odd interference messing with our sensors. I can’t get a good reading on what’s inside those things. At this point, could be human. Could be ... well, even back