Supersystem.
They were very near to one of the systems stars, the K5 that went by the
ancient name of Garnet, the sixth star out from the hole. Eight planets,
thirty-five moons. Three of the planets and moons were habitable by humans.
Filthy hydrogen breathers inhabited one of the outer worlds.
“Alien ships ahead,”
called the tactical officer. The admiral noted the orange triangles that
denoted possible hostiles. Three of them. He looked to the forward view
screen. The stars burned a bright blue ahead. Even the nearby orange star had
a brighter hue. The Doppler effect, he knew, as the ships had accelerated up
to almost a tenth of light speed by now.
“Show them on main
viewer,” he ordered.
The view switched, at
first a blur, then clearing as the computer compensated for their motion. A large
vessel was centered in the view, side on to the approaching Nation ships. Long and lean, with a bulbous bow and flaring stern. Fusion flame was
coming from the stern of the vessel. Turrets of some type were arranged on the
bow section, and the long proboscis of a kinetic energy weapon thrust from the
front center of the vessel.
“Magnify,” ordered
Gerasi.
The ship leapt forward
on the screen. Lettering adorned the sides of the bow section. Letters in a
language not seen in the worlds of the Nation .
“Maurids.” The word
spat from his mouth. The filthiest of all oxygen breathers, demons who ran one
four legs, but walked on two. One of the fiercest and deadliest of the
nonhuman races.
“I want a close enough
approach vector to destroy those vessels,” he ordered the navigator.
“Shouldn’t take too
much of an effort,” said the tactical officer. “They look to be very
primitive. Fragile by our standards.”
“Do we really need to
attack these vessels?” said Captain Midas, looking up at the admiral’s walk.
“This action is not in our mission description.”
“I set the mission
description,” barked the admiral. “Not some desk pilot back home. Our
instructions have always been to destroy the nonhumans whenever possible. And
in this case it is very possible.
“Proceed,” he ordered
the crew. “Tactical officer, target the lead vessel with MAM torpedoes.
Communications, order the rest of the task force to follow suit. Target a
vessel and fire as soon as we close the range.”
Minutes passed as the
range closed. At fifty million kilometers the lead vessel of the aliens
acquired a targeting reticule.
“Firing,” called out
the tactical officer. Two small dots appeared on the display, very close to
the triangle of the Orca . Two other ships of the task force sported the
dots as well. Within seconds they were on the view screen, the ship’s computer
compensating for their great velocity. Matter-antimatter torpedoes, the
deadliest long-range weapons in the arsenal of the Nation of Humanity .
Each started from their tubes with Orca ’s current .1 c velocity.
Inertia damping bubbles
enclosed the twenty-meter long weapons, really small spaceships in their own
right. The spherical propulsion unit on the stern of each torpedo propelled
them forward at over a thousand gees, adding 10 kilometers per second onto the
velocity with each advance of the chronometer. They could boost for an hour,
adding .12 c to their final velocity.
Minutes passed as the
weapons moved toward their targets. The enemy had shown no attitude of being under
assault, of even knowing the Nation 's warships were present. Ten
minutes into the attack that changed.
“Transmission from the enemy vessels,” said the
com officer.
“Put it on screens,”
ordered the admiral, stepping down from the walk to head to the front of the
bridge.
The creatures that
appeared were like something out of a nightmare. Dozens of them, crowding the
large bridge of the alien ship. Long, lean bodies, fur enveloping every part
not covered by space ship overalls. Most
They were very near to one of the systems stars, the K5 that went by the
ancient name of Garnet, the sixth star out from the hole. Eight planets,
thirty-five moons. Three of the planets and moons were habitable by humans.
Filthy hydrogen breathers inhabited one of the outer worlds.
“Alien ships ahead,”
called the tactical officer. The admiral noted the orange triangles that
denoted possible hostiles. Three of them. He looked to the forward view
screen. The stars burned a bright blue ahead. Even the nearby orange star had
a brighter hue. The Doppler effect, he knew, as the ships had accelerated up
to almost a tenth of light speed by now.
“Show them on main
viewer,” he ordered.
The view switched, at
first a blur, then clearing as the computer compensated for their motion. A large
vessel was centered in the view, side on to the approaching Nation ships. Long and lean, with a bulbous bow and flaring stern. Fusion flame was
coming from the stern of the vessel. Turrets of some type were arranged on the
bow section, and the long proboscis of a kinetic energy weapon thrust from the
front center of the vessel.
“Magnify,” ordered
Gerasi.
The ship leapt forward
on the screen. Lettering adorned the sides of the bow section. Letters in a
language not seen in the worlds of the Nation .
“Maurids.” The word
spat from his mouth. The filthiest of all oxygen breathers, demons who ran one
four legs, but walked on two. One of the fiercest and deadliest of the
nonhuman races.
“I want a close enough
approach vector to destroy those vessels,” he ordered the navigator.
“Shouldn’t take too
much of an effort,” said the tactical officer. “They look to be very
primitive. Fragile by our standards.”
“Do we really need to
attack these vessels?” said Captain Midas, looking up at the admiral’s walk.
“This action is not in our mission description.”
“I set the mission
description,” barked the admiral. “Not some desk pilot back home. Our
instructions have always been to destroy the nonhumans whenever possible. And
in this case it is very possible.
“Proceed,” he ordered
the crew. “Tactical officer, target the lead vessel with MAM torpedoes.
Communications, order the rest of the task force to follow suit. Target a
vessel and fire as soon as we close the range.”
Minutes passed as the
range closed. At fifty million kilometers the lead vessel of the aliens
acquired a targeting reticule.
“Firing,” called out
the tactical officer. Two small dots appeared on the display, very close to
the triangle of the Orca . Two other ships of the task force sported the
dots as well. Within seconds they were on the view screen, the ship’s computer
compensating for their great velocity. Matter-antimatter torpedoes, the
deadliest long-range weapons in the arsenal of the Nation of Humanity .
Each started from their tubes with Orca ’s current .1 c velocity.
Inertia damping bubbles
enclosed the twenty-meter long weapons, really small spaceships in their own
right. The spherical propulsion unit on the stern of each torpedo propelled
them forward at over a thousand gees, adding 10 kilometers per second onto the
velocity with each advance of the chronometer. They could boost for an hour,
adding .12 c to their final velocity.
Minutes passed as the
weapons moved toward their targets. The enemy had shown no attitude of being under
assault, of even knowing the Nation 's warships were present. Ten
minutes into the attack that changed.
“Transmission from the enemy vessels,” said the
com officer.
“Put it on screens,”
ordered the admiral, stepping down from the walk to head to the front of the
bridge.
The creatures that
appeared were like something out of a nightmare. Dozens of them, crowding the
large bridge of the alien ship. Long, lean bodies, fur enveloping every part
not covered by space ship overalls. Most
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