Titan Battle, page 10
That was a problem. If he wanted his wing to function his way, he'd need all of them to change their personalities, and that was impossible, or so he was told. But Beck being Beck 'Sal' Grim, he intended to make the near impossible possible. He wanted his wing to have more kills than any other wing in the space force, and he wanted those kills to be big.
They said that a Wing acted a lot like its Wing Commander, and Beck hoped that was always true. If it was, then he was certain he'd gain even more respect and be more revered in the battles to come. Maybe his Wing might have more deaths, but that was only natural…
Beck reminded himself that his next teachings would be on defensive strategies. He'd hate to have some of greenies buy it because they wanted to be more like him… and because of him. He'd hate Laurie to buy the farm because she wanted to make him proud, or some other greenie infection.
He shook his head. No… he didn't have to worry about that. He knew why Laurie loved him. She loved him because she was attracted physically to him, not because she was a newb and he was this top-dog hero of the Fighter Corps. Well… not all of her love was because of that. But some.
Beck closed his eyes and tried drifting to sleep. For a moment, he thought it was Captain sleeping next to him, in his old bunk on board the Newson. When he opened his eyes, he saw a different woman with a different figure. And a different sound. In a different place.
He missed his old quarters. He had spent half a year in them while the Newson had moved from battle to battle. Now, it would probably be occupied by another greenie.
Taking a deep breathe… he realized that he had seen people come and go so fast that he would never remember them by the time the next year hit. Only a few. He told himself to he would spend more time with those around him, while he still could. Who knew? Maybe the next battle would be his last? Maybe the next battle would be their last?
Maybe there wouldn't be a last battle if Earth surrendered.
No, that didn't sound like Thorim.
— But Thorim was only one person. There was another who could order Thorim to surrender.
Fat chance, Beck thought. If that happened, my career would be over, and my career is just getting started…
He closed his eyes and fell to sleep dreaming of more kills and big kills.
Chapter 21
Shuttlepod 1, above the wormhole exit, Sol
Sector General Thorim glanced out of his shuttlecraft's cockpit window and saw the massive kilometer-long Pulsar-class battleship Carginan 200 meters away.
He smiled. No matter how many times he saw his new flagship holographically, nothing could compare with seeing it for the first time with an naked eye… especially not this up close.
The oblong shaped warship was beautiful and majestic. Sensors and point defense weapon mounts dotted its hull. It looked the way it functioned. Like an inborn killer. 8 million tons of metal and carbon nanofibers… and the latest weapons and defenses the proud star of humanity had.
Its bow measured 300 meters in diameter, and at its dead center was the very thing that was its namesake. The pulsar gun - a massive 100 meter wide laser cannon that could pump out a beam of gamma rays with the destructive potential of 500 megatons of TNT per blast. It could fire this beam twice per second, making it the deadliest warship humanity had created to date.
The ship was well defended, too. Its nanofiber carbon armor was 60 meters thick… meaning it was as thick as the standard Artemis class battleship. But that wasn't what amazed Thorim's attention. What really was awe-inspiring was that it was equipped with the latest mark 9 shield generator, making its shields more powerful than a standard human superdreadnought. Such a shield generator was capable of taking twenty 100-megaton nukes at point blank range and still function with double digit saturation.
Amazing, thought Thorim.
The oval shaped ship also had, embedded on all sides, the latest point defense laser mounts as well as flak cannons to defend against enemy missiles… it truly was the epitome of modern. Its power core was hidden deep within the center of the ship, armored on all sides by an inner layer of 20 meters of carbon nanofiber.
But that was not all. The most important equipment the ship had was this - Thorim gazed at the well armored Yatimis drive ring at the aft of the ship. This drive ring could speed the vessel up to .3 c, which was 1.5 times faster than the fastest Argonan warship. This very fact was game changing and it meant that the ship could easily disengage from battle with an enemy fleet and pull distance enough for its shields to recharge before battling, again, and Thorim intended to do this in the battles to come.
"It's a beauty, isn't it, sir?" said Captain Fletcher, standing besides Thorim in the cockpit. "And we have five of them, with more coming out of the production docks each week."
Thorim smiled and turned towards his old flag captain. "I'll miss your Newson, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy my flag was transferring to something better… that's for sure."
"And we'll miss you, sir. The Newson will always miss its fleet commander. We'll do our part in the coming battles - so will each and every fighter pilot all the way down to the maintenance crew member."
Thorim grunted with approval as he felt his stomach churn due to the act of his shuttlecraft passing through the bigger battleship's artificial gravity field. For a moment, the disconcerting feeling existed, and then it passed.
It took several more minutes for the shuttlecraft to reach the bigger 'Pulsar' class battleship's docking bay, but that soon came as well. Inside, Thorim felt anxiety, knowing that he was about to meet his new flag captain upfront for the first time.
He saw his shuttlepod move through the force fields that kept the docking bay's internal oxygenated atmosphere in and felt the sensation of sliding through a waterfall. Then, he was inside the battleship.
The docking bay looked small, even for a battleship's standards. 50 meters wide by 80 meters long, it was just barely enough for Thorim's shuttlepod to edge into a landing port. The small shuttle did so with a clump. And that was it.
"Opening shuttlepod doors," said the pilot. "Good to carry you, general."
"Thank you, ensign," said Thorim, who saluted to her salute and walked through the hatch into the docking bay.
"General on deck!" said the marine honor guard leader. The 12 man team saluted, to which Thorim returned the salute.
"Permission to come aboard?" Thorim asked another man in captain brevets.
"Yes, sir," said the broad shouldered and incredibly tall, red-haired captain. "Welcome, general, to your new home. I am your new Flag Captain… Erwin Rogers. It's an honor to meet you, sir."
"And it's an honor to make this my flagship, captain," answered Thorim. He gazed back at the shuttlepod from which he came and saw Captain Fletcher wave goodbye from the pod's cockpit. Thorim nodded, and the shuttle lifted. Seconds later, it went through the docking bay's force field and out into space. "Then without further ado," said Thorim, turning to face his new flag captain, "let's get to the flag bridge, immediately. We have a lot of work to do."
Captain Rogers nodded. "Yes, sir, but first allow me to show you your new quarters…?"
Admiral's quarters, Federation Battleship Carginan, above the wormhole exit, Sol
After a two hour tour of his new flagship, Thorim finally settled into his new quarters on board the Carginan. If anything, the Pulsar class battleship made sure the flag officers got all the amenities. His new fleet commander's quarters was spacious. It now packed with all the things he wanted to transfer from the Newson. Now, it was up to him to place everything into its rightful place.
Thorim sat in a comfy couch, perspiring from all the introductions to the ship's personnel. Overall, he liked what he saw… about the ship and its brand new crew as well. To say that the ship was the latest in human innovation was an understatement. It was custom built to kill enemy warships. With a main cannon that had a range of 200,000 kilometers, he was certain his new flagship would be able to take down enough of the enemy than four times its own weight. Not that he wanted to go down anytime soon…
Now, he was much more confident that he could defeat the enemy fleet when they came through that wormhole. It was no longer a 5% prediction, but at least a 20% prediction, he thought - although… a lot still depended on what the enemy would bring through that wormhole.
He thought about what the enemy would bring.
In a way, it was unfair. While the enemy could see everything on the Sol side of the wormhole (by using their sensor probe pushes), humanity had no way to see what was on the other side of the wormhole… in Alpha Centauri. That reason was none other than the fact that the Argonans controlled the entire length of the wormhole. They had so many combat probes that the entire wormhole was controlled by their war probes. This enabled them to push out with probes to see what was happening in Sol. And if Thorim wanted to do the same and push out with human probes on the Alpha Centauri side of the wormhole, he needed to at least kill all the enemy probes inside the wormhole… and that was impossible. Humanity simply did not have the industry to create that many warprobes to take control of inside the wormhole. A convenience that the enemy had… due to their greater industrial capacity.
This was the same reason... that for the past month, Thorim had failed to close the wormhole gate in Alpha Centauri. He had the megabombs to do it (he eventually produced more), but he had no way to transport those bombs to the gate in Alpha Centauri. Every time he tried to, the enemy moved their warships into the wormhole to prevent his bomb hauler transports to make it to the other side. And unless he wanted to risk a full scale war inside the wormhole, a battle in which he did not have the ability to use his stationary defenses and missiles and mines and all his ships, nor was it a battle in which he had the advantage of facing an enemy that was bottlenecked and forced to come out in pieces only as large as the wormhole exit permitted…
Thorim sighed. It was as good as it got, he supposed. Now, he had to resort to guessing what will come out based on what the Argonans usually bring for a wormhole exit push.
So Thorim sat there and guessed. First of all, he knew for a fact that the enemy would send out their SADAMs first (search and destroy all-range missiles). These minesweeper missiles were crucial to lowering humanity's mine saturation right in front of the wormhole exit. He estimated that, depending on how much they devoted their industrial capacity to minesweeping missiles, Thorim's mine saturation might be lowered from 100% — which was perfect — to as high as 60% and as low as 20%. It all depended on how many SADAMs the enemy would bring.
Worse… Thorim wondered if the enemy would send their SADAMs in phases or all at once. Traditional wisdom was that it was best to empty all your minesweeping missiles first to get rid of as many mines before your ships made transit… but who knew what the enemy's tactics would be. They were inventive, he had to admit that, and if they saw a reason to empty their SADAMs in sequence, they would definitely take it.
His next guess was that after the enemy depleted their SADAMs, they would send through their least important ships like destroyers and frigates to soak up mine damage and to shoot any mines that were in the way. In this stage, Thorim estimated that the enemy would lose anywhere from half to 90% of all their ships that they sent through… because all his forces would be shooting at all of the enemy's ships as they tried to clear the way of any mines their SADAMs failed to kill.
Then the third stage would happen. Thorim was certain that some point, the enemy would send through their base-killer missiles to destroy his fortresses. These gigantic missiles were the size of destroyers and were essentially kamikaze ships, equipped with super dense armor and had all available storage devoted to antimatter. The question was, though, when and how would these k-ships be used? Would the enemy send their k-ships after their capital ships or with their capital ships or before their capital ships?
The fourth and final stage would be the enemy's capital ships. These super invaluable ships would determine whether or not the enemy could hold the wormhole exit against all that remained of Thorim's forces — all his ships, his turrets, any surviving fortresses, his remaining missiles and mines, and his fighter-bombers.
As Thorim sat in his comfy couch, he flinched - Oh, he forgot! During all these phases, the enemy would have an opportunity to send through their normal missiles — like the ones they had used during the 9th battle of Alpha Centauri. The question was, how many did they have, and when would they use them?
A burdening thought stirred in him. What truly unsettled him was the unknown — not just in terms of not knowing how the enemy would use things Thorim knew they had but also things Thorim didn't know they had. What if the enemy had a new weapon? After all, in the month since the last battle, humanity had developed the mobile pulsar battleship. The enemy could have easily developed a new weapon in that time - with or without new technology - or perhaps using preexisting technology. After all, Thorim recalled, in the last battle, the enemy had developed a new form of battleship perfectly specialized for dealing with my fighters…
Thorim sighed. He would have to deal with them as they come. It was truly a sad state that he couldn't see what was on the other side of the wormhole. Terrible, thought Thorim, that he didn't know what the enemy had in surprise… if they had anything new at all. He could only base his expectations on what the enemy had done before…
Chapter 22
Simulation Room, Federation Fleetcarrier Enterprise, Sol
In the hologram room of the carrier Enterprise, Beck gazed at the mock battle being played out before him. Sitting at the center of the room, he watched commandingly as his greenies performed carefully drilled aerobatics against computer simulated opponents. Beck smiled, nodded, and sometimes shouted to the swirling blue icons of each virtual human fighter controlled by his greenies dancing in the simulated battlefield in front of him.
"Very good, hotshot!" he said to one member. "Now try an epsilon B maneuver. Your stunt would work better if you keep your aft drive ring at 40% instead of 80%!"
"Yes, sir!"
As his eyes continued to scan the formation and tactics they used — the same tactics he taught them — and those they naturally internalized after hundreds of hours in simulated combat, he began to believe that his wing was shaping up to become a true threat to the Argonans when the time came. He approved of what every member did — they were becoming true professionals. Even though there were definitely some kinks; after hours of drills and combat practice, he was certain everyone would be able to hold up against the enemy.
However, he knew for a fact that the computer controlled enemies could not emulate the real enemy 100%. And there would always be flaws and chances for human error. To that end, there was still some doubt in his mind. This very uncertainty hid underneath his bones, like an itch he could not scratch, and it made him want to train his greenies until they were too exhausted by the simulation-cockpits each of them sat in… only meters in front of him in the same room.
As much as Beck didn't want to admit, he was becoming ever so slightly a different person compared to what he was before he became Alpha Wing's Wing Commander. The recklessness was fading. The willingness to gamble for the big reward was now in conflict with his desire to keep his command alive. At least, he thought, the desire to be the best was still there. The desire to take down something big and be respected — that, he knew, would always be a part of him.
Beck wrestled with his thoughts. He could only hope that after all this training, his Wing mates were as good as they could possibly be without actually fighting the Argonans in real time combat. He could only hope that he had done his best — had drilled them in all the ways he possibly could against a computer that was as close to the real thing as possible.
He had, after all, trained them in all the aspects of fighter warfare that he knew how. He had taught them how to fly in various formations. He had taught them how to uniformly scatter when targeted by an enemy battleship's flak cannons or point defense laser cluster. He had taught them how to fly erratically when entering the point defense weapons envelope of an enemy ship… like he had done when he had engaged that Thornguard that made him famous. He had drilled his greenies until they had unconsciously internalized all the ways an enemy destroyer's flak and laser targeting computer different from that of… say, a shark class battleship's. By now, each of them knew how the various capital ships within the enemy fleet differed in terms of anti-fighter armaments. He had even taught them where exactly in an enemy superdreadnought's drive ring ought a fighter drop its bombs into — where the armor was weakest. By now, everyone knew the armor layout of a Megastar class superdreadnought —
— Suddenly, a loud alarm rang throughout the simulation room. BLING… BLING… BLING…
… Followed by a voice through the ship intercom. "All personnel, this is the Captain. Enemy missiles detected through the wormhole exit. All fighter pilots to the hangar bays. Launch fighters immediately! This is not a drill. I repeat, all fighters launch! All other crews to combat stations! This is not a drill."
