Part 23

"Oh how we sang
That far night away
Oh how loud we sang"


There was a glowing halo, burning bright. It expanded in front of and around the gunship he'd targeted. It morphed, rolled and swayed. Pushed by the shields and mass of the oncoming ship. Made bigger by colliding energies dropping and randomly creating molecules of gas, superheated and venting. The space around the Gunship was screaming in protest.

Alarms in the 'Chance were ringing. Gunship number two had set it's sights and was launching.

Missiles were coming forward.

That wasn't what worried Freddie.

Seconds till impact. The defences were running, selecting, green lighting a strategy.

That wasn't what worried Freddie.

It was the frontal attack to come.

The defences started cutting up missiles

He waited a second

'Raise shields to maximum" he said.

At that level, no more shooting and no more missiles.

The shields raised.

The main guns of the attacking gunship fired.

The Golden Chance was lost in a glowing flare.

"Jolo give me some extreme evasion. Get creative" said Freddie

"Yes Sir!" came Jolo's gleeful reply.

The engines roared into life. The Chanced burst forward and starting spiralling. Spiralling wide, spiralling forward. Spiralling right into the attacking ship.

Freddies original target rolled out of it's miasma of debris. Fires burning, gases venting and stance unstable.

More alarms rang in the 'Chance

"Sir, we have hull burn' said Ko-on

"Jolo, we need more" said Freddie

"Brace for main engines " came Jolo's reply

Space around the 'Chance compressed. Blurs of radiation blossomed in colour and everything wrenched

"Captain you have a little time. " said Jolo

"Explain things to me Jolo" said Freddie

"One tenth of compression for one tenth second on manual navigation" said Jolo

"Good, get me a strategic update on our position." said Freddie.

Freddie pulled out the chrome performance mike

"All crew, thanks be to Jolo we have a reprieve. Make any repairs you can"

Freddie smiled, put the mike down and looked at his maps.

Technorati Tags: Battle, Opera, SF, Space, Starship, Writing

Part 22

Van Gehan stood on his circular command deck. Throughout the Smokeless Fire crew were strapped tight into action stations. Effectively acceleration stations on a freighter like this. The one job 'Gehan had never managed was to upgrade all those stations, even those on the bridge into combat worthy cockpits. So whilst the men who could sat secured tight into steel cages, the bridge crew walked the deck. Needing the resources at their fingertips.

Each in a decompression suit, mask open and gloves off.

Knowing that if all else failed. The command deck itself could be ejected as a single big capsule.

The situation itself was pushing the 'Smokeless. Mapping the missiles was a mess. Bending space had thrown them all over the place. Right now there were 16 units that looked like direct thread. Four more were so far out of that they were never coming back and as for the rest. Who knew? There was more random movement out there than in a cup of tea.

Of the eight Sterateel fighters two locked two far damaged to dog-fight, but were flying wide. Probably hoping to engage from a distance with even more missiles. The rest had formed up into an attack formation. Van Gehan knew that they were coming for him. First though they had to avoid the missile salvo loosed by the 'Chances two remaining fighters and that was buying time. The squadron was six was wheeling across the sky, taking out the defensive missiles in short and sharp bursts of fire.

Those two fighters from the 'Chance were still in formation. These were well trained men. Not the provincial amateurs sung of in Fleet bars far far away. Hajamke it turned out was producing a fine breed of man.

Beeping on a console were a host of messages from the convoy. As Van Gehan had discovered throughout his career in Fleet ; merchants everywhere were worriers. Automatic soothing replies were flowing out them. Smooth and slick as treacle. There was no time to worry about these.

His men were quiet. Working hard to keep everyone alive.

The missiles were getting closer and closer.

The guns on the Smokeless Fire opened fire.

The escort fighters followed their planned cue and moved aggressively.

Technorati Tags: Fiction, Opera, Battle, SF, Space, Starship, Writing

Announcement to Authors!

I've mentioned Shared Creation in this blog before. The site is now accepting members and is running it's first few projects. I would like to draw your attention to one of them. Writing on the Web is an indexing project. It's aim is to create a collection of posts on Shared Creation that link back in the authors own words to fiction published online. It is especially interested in looking at blogs that publish both fiction and poetry.

If you run or know of such blogs / web sites then please come over to Shared Creation, register and post. If nothing else it is an easy way to gain a link back to yourself.

Technorati Tags: Blog, Fiction, Links, Poetry, Web, Writing

Part 21

“Moments Lost
Never Known Never Found
Most Lost
Time unbound”

Freddie edited out the far part of the map ahead from his conscious mind. Let the ex-Admiral run with the convoys section on the battle, and let his subconscious monitor. The back end of his brain would soon scream if things turned sour.

His worry was just ahead. Two tough gun ships. The big question was - which was the one really hurt earlier. That had to be the target. It might have been repaired and replenished, but it’s crew would be the most ragged. Most likely to err. It was one of the universals that linked men and Sterateel. When tired - mistakes happen.
There was no telling and the gunboats engines were dropping thrust. They were about to spin and face him. He picked. He pointed and selected.

“All weapons open fire. Maximum coverage”

Maximum coverage meant that the point defences would spray fire at long range, the main guns would aim and fire at maximum output and frequency. Each missile bay would fire on loading and locking. A lot of ordnance was going the way of that one ship. As each gun or tube kicked in reverberations flooded into the Chance. Made the ship shake. Maximum coverage induced moments of pure war song her structure. This time there was no chase, and no dogfight. So far it was an emerging one sided slugging match. Freddie could sit back and hear the tune. He smiled and continued to think ahead.

An Unfortunate Break

This is an apology for this break in the story. I've been caught up in completing the technical side of Shared Creation. This concentration on development has slowed down my writing. This is just a short break. The story will continue and develop. Again my apologies for this small break.

Part 20

“Watch me walk and watch me stand
As ice flows over this promised land”

The beat of drums to action. The drums lived in the head of the Captain and the Ex-Admiral. No doubt noises lived in their crews minds too. Most likely drums aboard the Smokeless Fire, but on the ‘Chance who knew. She had a far less orthodox crew.

Four Maringer pods dashed forward and lashed out with the last four Krugers. They fired and they turned back for home. Not looking at their missiles path or the attacking wall that was flying in. They fired and turned. The ‘Chances last two fighters in escort. Not firing a shot but just holding formation.

Captain Freddie watched it play out. He watched ranges, he watched a plan. He gave the order to full burn the engines and leave formation. The missiles ran forward. The Golden Chance ran forward.

Ex-Admiral Van Gehan ordered a looser formation amongst the cargo ships.
They complied, but with concerned brows and questions flying but left answered they complied.

The Sterateel wall of missiles came closer. In formation behind that were their eight deadly fighters and behind those two gun ships. It was an imposing formation.
Captian Freddie watched the Kruger countdown, then counted down from five.
The main compression engine on the Golden Chance kicked in at full power. In a sudden, and temporary blast of energy turned to fog, turned to gone she vanished.

The Krugers detonated.
Space convulsed.
Space spasmed.
Lights shone.
Darkness brooded
Gravity swirled.
Missiles tore apart
Engines ran hot
Chaos lived in the approaching onslaught
Every calculation of place and distance meant nothing.
Every planned course was diverted
Every sense of seeing the target obscured.
Half the missiles died.
Half flew randomly.

The fighters lost formation and did not know which way to go. Some lost fuel. Some suffered injury.

Flew spewed into space.

The Maringer pods docked with the Smokeless Fire. Free of their charges the fighters took on an aggressive pose, locking on their missiles and firing into the madness. Van Gehan waited for the moment when he would say fire.

Not far away at all in a burst from nowhere the Golden Chance emerged. Behind the enemy lines. Away from the Chaos. Away from space turned in all the wrong directions but most importantly behind the gun ships.

The scene was set.

The ‘Chance turned to descend on her enemy.

Part 19

Freddie was up, out of his char and out of his office. Transferring his call to the Admiral through to the Command Centre as he moved, cradling the stone in his hand.
Ko-on pointed to a map.
“They’re staging” he said.
Captain Freddie looked. Ko-on was right. Small objects were launching from the Sterateel support ship. They were drifting forwards away from the ship and coming to a halt. It was missile staging.
“How many so far?”
“24 at the last wave sir”.
Freddie nodded.
The ex-admiral joined in
“Freddie, I’m launching the pods now”
Freddie smiled
“Sandro, launch the fighters. They’re to support the Smokeless Fire, and her pods.”
“Understood sir, as per plan”
“As per plan Sandro. Put me through to them”
“All yours”
“This is the Captain. I know you’re down two. I know I’m asking a lot of you this time. Just do what you can be lucky”
The Captain smiled at Ko-on.
“Everything ready?”
“Yes Sir’
“Then get everyone locked down and ready to go”
The captain jumped in his cockpit and waited for Ko-on’s call to arms to go through the ship. Then he picked up the chromed performance microphone.
“Attention all. This is it, this is the traditional third Sterateel attack wave, the big push. Everything they’ve got at us. It’s going to be a lot. It’s going to be tough. We’ve got a plan and we’re going to be lucky. We’re going to win”
The cockpit doors sealed shut. The command centre was empty. It’s crew and everyone else in the ship sealed tight in their own little capsules.