Saturday Fun Stuff: Chapter 3 of Cyborg Wars

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Our operative’s report included coordinates: coordinates which had been transmitted to the entire Birdman fleet as a rendezvous point.   Something big was about to happen.

There had been quite a debate over whether this report could be trusted.   It could be bait set out by the Birdmen to trap our best ships far from help, but discussion quickly dimmed the luminance of that possibility.

Hastily we pieced together an assault fleet and ordered them to proceed to the coordinates given.   The Executioner, a Dreadnought class battleship, was patrolling in my vicinity and I took command of her as my flag ship.   My fleet was scattered all around the quadrant, a well coordinated, cohesive assault would be nearly impossible, but we would do the best we could.  

I sit at the desk in my ready room and study charts – such as they are – of our destination.   If space could be compared to planetary geology, this area is a desert.   A nebula, a few gas clouds and a few proto-stars so young that even if they did have planets, they would be far from inhabitable.   No life.   Why would the Cyborg be interested in a place like this? Perhaps it is just what it appears; a hide out.   The occasional survey ship is all that ever goes there.   Navigation is difficult at best in the region.   It would make a good place to hide, but darned difficult to get into and out of undetected.

“Enough of this!” I snarl as I stand up and head for the door, which obediently slides aside.

“Helm, how much longer?”   We are screaming along at speeds well above our design specs.   The ship complains audibly but is holding together.   We will have to deal with the damage I’m doing to the ship once we find what’s out there.

My helmsman is busy trying to keep the ship on course: at this speed even minute deviations quickly become a major issue, and our destination is difficult to get a solid navigational lock on.   Still, he finds the time to report, “Another three to four hours, Sir, depending on the exact distance and whether we can maintain this speed.”

“Sir…” My tactical officer looks up from his Comm board, I turn to face him. “Sensors have picked up massive energy discharges in the target area.   Very irregular, containing signatures of Cyborg and Bird Man weaponry.   Looks like the battle has begun.”

“Any word from the rest of the fleet?”   We were running silent, no regular communications as we know both the Cyborg and the Bird Men are capable of intercepting and decrypting them.   Instead we are using a method we developed for battle preparations.   Using one special channel, and a series of numeric bursts, which often pass as background noise to an evesdropper, we are able to convey basic information about position, ETA, and preparedness.

I decide to tour the ship prior to engagement.   As I walk along the halls between stations I marvel at this ship.   The Dreadnought class was developed out of desperation in our battles against the Cyborg.   It’s the size of a Galaxy class cruiser, but carries half the compliment.   It’s stuffed with weaponry.   It even has a third nacelle that does nothing but supply power to the weapons systems.   Multiple sets of phaser banks, bristling with torpedo tubes and our pride and joy, a phaser cannon.   This baby is a cross between a torpedo launcher and a phaser emitter.   It fires a ‘shell’ of energy so intense that it will short out the shield generators and punch a 100 foot diameter hole clear through the hull of any standard star ship.   Most ships are destroyed with a single shot.   Which is good because it takes several minutes for the cannon to recharge for another shot, especially if phasers and torpedoes are firing too.   These ships are reasonably effective against the Cyborg cubes if used in conjunction with smaller, more agile ships to provide cover and draw the cubes fire while the Dreadnought withdraws to recharge for another run.   We’ve proven that three Dreadnoughts along with half a dozen cruisers and destroyers, all with skilled Captains, will take out a cube.   Casualties are high, however, typically 50%.
All four remaining Dreadnoughts are enroute to our rendezvous, along with another 12 assorted Federation ships.   The Stormers are sending three Victorious class destroyers and 8 Thorns.

If we find what we expect to find, it won’t be nearly enough.

“Bridge to Admiral Mann.”

I touch my commbadge to activate it, “Go Ahead.”

“Sir, the Go’Zilla and the Vahl’Pah are within visual range and on intercepting course, the Invincible will be joining us in 20 minutes.   Four more ships are ahead of us and slowing to rendezvous.   The others will arrive at various times within the next hour.   At our current course and speed we’ll arrive on target in 25 minutes.”

“Slow to warp 8 to allow as many of the other ships as possible to arrive, and compile all the data we can get from passive scanners on what is ahead.   We’ll wait a while before going to active scans.   I’m on my way to the bridge.   Admiral out.”

I know there is no rush, but my steps quicken just the same.

I arrive in the bridge to find the view screen filled with the pink and blue hues of an enormous gas cloud.   The picture is fuzzy, index points flip and flash erratically.   “Can we see anything yet?”

“Yes, sir, we are picking up weapons fire and an occasional energy burst.   Probably ship detonations.”

“Can we tell who’s winning?”

“No, Sir.   The readings are obscured by the gas cloud and residual energy from weapons.   The only thing certain right now is that there has been quite a fire fight.”

The minutes tick by slowly.   One by one, more ships swoop in and form up into a fleet.   Now we use the short range ship-to-ship communications to lay out the attack plan and give assignments.

High General Gohn is aboard the Vahl’Pah, a Victorious; I’ve fought with him before.   Timid he’s not.   He’ll do his part.

Finally we come into visual range at maximum enlargement.   The picture is still fuzzy.   It’s difficult to count ships, but we can just make out the pinpricks of weapons fire, and movement as ships weave and dodge.   We see at least three definite Cyborg cubes.

Approaching, the number increases to five, then seven cubes.

“Seven of them!” someone mutters, “How are we going to fight that many so close together?”

“Belay that, mister.”   I say it as gently as I can, we’re all feeling it, he just gave it voice, “Begin active scans of the area.   I want to know energy outputs and locations of every ship in that area.   Take us to red alert.   Let’s heat up the weapons.”

The crew begins scurrying about, preparing, checking, confirming and reporting status of their systems.   I watch as the status board lights begin blinking to green.   30 phaser banks; ready.   20 torpedo bays; loaded and ready.   10 close range guns charged and waiting.   And 1 canon fully charged, ready to fire.

We divide the fleet into 7 wings, each containing one major gun ship and 2 or three cruisers.   I order the wings to take their position, and they began to peel off; providing a little separation between us would make it harder to concentrate fire on us and help prevent us from sustaining damage from friendly fire or from our ships detonating.   It also gives each wing room for evasive maneuvers.   We don’t have time to form up for a spherical attack, but we’ll do the best we can.

“I am reading 12 Cyborg cubes, Admiral.   Only four of them are fully operational.   Three more are trying to fight, but power emissions indicate massive damage.   The others are dead in space.   Approximately 100 Birdman ships or their debris are also in the battle zone.   About 10 are operational, all of them badly damaged.”

“Send coordinates of the four operational cubes to the wing commanders.   Two wings to each of the first three cubes, we’ll take the fourth.”

The plan is to make high speed passes, dodging and weaving as we approach and throw everything we have at them at very close range.

“All wings in position, Admiral.   One of the cubes is headed our way.”

“Engage the enemy.”

The Executioner and her escorts begin their dance.   Physics being what they are makes it difficult for ships of The Executioner’s size and weight to change directions quickly.   We cannot dodge a blow like a nimble footed boxer, or an atmospheric fighter.   Even if we had wings, there is nothing for them to work against in space.   Course of travel is adjusted using power vectors, and lots of energy.   The more footwork we do, the less energy we have to throw a punch.  Still, we make it as hard as possible for the enemy to get a weapons lock on us.

A bright green lance of cohesive energy streaks from the cube, barely missing our port nacelle.   Another glances off our upper shields.

Tactical reports: “Topside shields holding.”

Another shot hits the Armageddon, smaller and lighter, it’s knocked off course, but not seriously damaged.   Her Captain is experienced and I resist the urge to issue orders to him to protect his weakened side.

“Weapons at ready!”   The distance counter ticks off rapidly.   The Cyborg weapons concentrate on my ship, they’ve learned what we can do.   Forward shields are draining fast.

“Cannon: Fire!”   The ship lurches slightly as she hurls the packet at the cube.   It lights up their shields as they try to suck the energy out of the highly charged shell which punches through the shields and impacts on the ship itself, damaging its hull.

“Fire all weapons!”   We’ve created a weak spot in their shielding, a hole through which we can fire our other weapons.   We do so until we are practically inside their shields.   “Hard to port, warp 3!”

The ship groans as we execute a high G turn then kick in the warp engines.

“Damage report.”

“Forward shields down to 50%, Topside 90%, Port 85%, starboard and aft 100%.   Minor hull damage to the forward end of decks 9, 10, and 11.   A few injuries, no casualties, Sir.”

“Damage control, we need those forward shields bolstered, you’ve got 10 minutes.”   I know that my crew is already swarming into the bays housing those shield generators, spare parts at hand, but they expect me to say it anyway.

“Helm: come about.   Take us back at warp 1.”

As we make another run, the cube moves back into the debris field of the battle with the Birdmen.   Probably hoping the floating junk would provide obstacles for us, hampering our maneuvering.   It does.

They also turn their damaged side away from us and present a fresh surface to sting. The cannon is not as effective this time.   Apparently they threw all available power into the shields on the surface facing us.   The cannon shot loses so much juice getting through that shield that it barely scratches the ship’s hull.   But we see lots of tiny white explosions on the hull as shield generators get fried trying to ablate the cannon’s energy, and our second volley does more damage.

However, we’ve lost our forward shield completely and suffer damage to the hull.   We also lose five phaser banks and two torpedo launchers.   A few crewmen as well.   The Kha’Plah, which serves as my starboard wing man takes a heavy hit and is having difficulty steering.

We swing around for another pass.   The cannon aims by steering the ship.   With our forward shields gone, that presents a major danger for us.   Either we crab in and don’t use the cannon, or risk losing the ship for one last shot.

In the distance I see an orange plasma blossom as one of the other Cubes blew up.   “Invite Captain Martin and his party to join us at this table, won’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”   The ensign speaks into her headset, then looks at me, “Sir, the Incisor has sustained heavy damage and is adrift, but the remaining ships of this wing are en route.”

Moments later three smaller ships swing into position beside us.   I order then to bunch up in front, providing cover where we were missing defensive shields.

We accelerate to attack speed and go in again, keeping low, my cover ships just above us so we can fire our cannon from underneath.   The cannon fires, penetrates the shields, and leaves a nice patch of glowing, twisted metal.   A soft spot for us to enlarge with our other weapons.   We do our best to capitalize on that and take several more hits ourselves.   I smell smoke that’s gotten into the ventilation system from damaged parts of the ship.

“Admiral, we do not have enough shielding left to survive another run.”

The Kha’Plah takes a heavy hit and begins to roll, out of control.   Its commander radios, “Get clear, get clear!”

“Commander, we can tow you out with a tractor beam…”

“NO! Our ship is breaking up.” He pauses, then says very calmly, “It is a good day to die!”

“All ships: hard about, get clear!”

Metal screams as we spin the ship around and throttle up the engines.   The Kha’Plah also accelerates; but toward the cube, not away from it.   The cube tries to move out of the way but, with all it’s power thrown into defensive shields, the engines won’t respond quickly enough.   Almost in slow motion the Stormer ship lances through the cube’s protective bubble, which is designed to disperse energy not solid matter, and plunges into the upper right corner of the ship itself in a bloom of red, blue and orange.

This bloom spreads outward across the ship as the plasma fire ignites more and more of the cubes systems.   It takes several minutes for the whole thing to be engulfed; jets of glowing gas shooting out of hull ruptures.  Finally the fire reaches the ship’s main core and it destructs in a glowing ball of anti-matter fire, hurling glowing chunks across the sector.

Out of danger, we again reverse our course and cautiously head back in.

“Tactical, give me a status report.”

“Two cubes remain operational but are damaged.   Several more are badly damaged.  They seem to be running interference between our ships; which have formed into a single wing, and the two cubes; which are moving away.   There are six Birdmen ships still operating, and they are going into orbit around the third planet of this star system.”

“An inhabitable planet, here?”

No sir, even from here I can tell that the planet is very volcanic, highly unstable.   But there is a moon; more like a large asteroid — probably captured, maybe brought in — that does appear stable.”

Just then, a huge blue ring ignites in the distance.  Buzzers sound as energy readings fly off the scale, my officers bend to the task of identifying the anomaly.

“A worm hole?” I ask.

“Nnn… no, Sir.   It’s similar, but not a natural occurrence.”

We watch as two cubes penetrate the disk of swirling blue fire.  The disk shrinks rapidly and blinks out of existence.

The remaining, crippled, cubes then detonate one after another.   We will not get the chance to study a Cyborg cube and try to ferret out its secrets.

I watch the screen showing a vast cloud of debris and junk, some still glowing, some dark and lifeless.

“Status?”

“No sign of weapons fire, residual energy makes it difficult to read if there are any life signs or operable ships in that mess.”

“Order the rest of our fleet to scan this debris field for survivors.   We’re going to see what’s on that moon.   Plot a course around the majority of this wreckage and engage engines at one half impulse.”

“Aye, Sir.”

The Birdmen had definitely found something here.   I just hoped it was worth over a hundred ships and the lives of their crews.

_________________________

Go on to Part Four

More fun info on Dreadnought Class ship