An odd begining for Science Fiction

In the depths of space, one hundred and eighteen light years from Earth, a terrible battle was being fought.  Neither side fighting in this battle was aware of the Earth as anything more than a planetary object orbiting an unnamed star.  Likewise, none of the individuals inhabiting the Earth were aware of the battle taking place.  For the better part of two hours, this battle raged while ships burst in horrifying displays of raw destruction, and hundreds of thousands died.

*          *          *          *

Victor watched as the Glorious and the Unfailing both died.  They had been the last two capital ships still in the fight.  Their loss was crippling to the fleet.  It was clear that the Xahn'Kri had won.  Anything the fleet did now would only delay that inevitability.

The Glorious had taken a direct hit from a high-mass kinetic projectile traveling at relativistic speeds.  The impact had punched through the already weakened hull and ruptured the fission shell deep inside the ship.  The resulting breach sundered the ship in two.  The aft half of the vessel still fired an occasional missile salvo, but it was a futile gesture.  Escape pods carried the surviving crew away from the ship just as a second HMKP connected.

The Unfailing had managed to keep her namesake, even in death.  When the damage from repeated enemy salvos became too much for the titan to shrug off, she had charged forward to ram the enemy.  Victor stood at attention and saluted the dead for their bravery.  Their last act had taken a Xahn'Kri capital ship out of the fight, and bought the fleet precious time to regroup.

Victor turned away from the main display and faced Gregory.  “What are the orders from the acting fleet commander?”  He asked.

Gregory looked at him and shook his head.  “There isn't an acting fleet commander.  The surviving admiralty is arguing over who should command, the fleet is in total chaos.”

Victor bowed his head in thought.  Why did the captain have to die, leaving him in this mess?  Officially, his position was barely tenable.  The mercenary contract they signed gave him certain autonomy above and beyond the rest of the fleet, and the crew would follow him because he was part of the chain of command.  But as a mercenary, he had little say in actual fleet operations.

“Then we're just going to follow through with our last order.  Continue the retreat and do what we can to minimize casualties.  Send the recall order to the fighters, and start cycling the drives.”  Victor looked at his crew as they carried out his commands.  They had fought well, and all of them had lost friends today.  He hoped that no more of them would have to die.  He called up the communications hub and dialed into the fleet frequencies.

Victor then spent the better part of five minutes trying to talk sense into the various admirals vying with each other for command of the fleet.  It was five minutes of wasted breath.  “The only thing they can agree on is that they don't need advice from a good for nothing mercenary.  Arrogant fools.  They'll kill everyone under them, and have none but themselves to blame.”

“Why should they listen to someone who has more experience and better judgment when they don’t even listen to their superiors?”  Greg quipped.

“Sarcasm?  From you?  I would never have believed it!  You must be really annoyed if you're resorting to sarcasm.  What the hell did they do to piss you off?”

“The bastards cut us out of the fleet channels, and not just us, but every merc ship.  We haven't received an update since the Unfailing died.”

Victor came to a decision.  “Greg, see if you can punch a signal through to the other merc ships; we need a consolidated effort or the Xahn'Kri will tear us apart.  It's blatantly obvious that the fleet is incapable of organizing the withdrawal with the current state of command.”  And it's just as obvious that we will be left to fend for ourselves even if they do manage it.  He thought angrily.

“I'll have it for you.”  Greg promised and set to work on his console.  “I've got response pings from six ships, and I've transferred them all to com line two.  You can pick it up at your console when you're ready.”

“Thanks.”  Victor said, activating the display in front of him after glancing at the ship codes.  All but one of the responders were mercenary formation leaders.  They commanded just fewer than thirty ships between them.  The remaining ship was a freelance mercenary, working alone.  He keyed on the link and was greeted by silence.  “This is Victor Conrad, third watch commander of the merc carrier ship Vertigo.”  He paused and gathered his words.  “As you've all certainly noticed, the fleet is in total disarray.”

“More like they've got their heads up their asses.”  The captain of the Sincerity cut in, much to the amusement of those in attendance.

“In any case, it looks like it has fallen on us to carry through with the retreat.”  He pulled up a display of the current fleet position.  “Without cooperation from the primary fleet forces, we won't be able to provide support for most of them.  Instead I intend to focus on the auxiliaries, as well as the second and fifth reserve formations.  They look like they're in the best shape out of any of them.”  He paused to see if there were any objections, but no one spoke up.  “Once the auxiliaries reach jump distance we can worry about the rest of the fleet.”

The strategist aboard the Felicitous gave his opinion.  “By then the Xahn'Kri will have reorganized and resumed their offensive.  The fleet will be in some serious shit.”  He looked at his estimations.  “If they stand and fight in their current condition, they will be down to thirty percent effectives by the time we get the auxiliaries clear; less than that if they can't stabilize the command situation.”

There was a profound silence as the various captains and crews allowed those numbers to sink in.  They were far worse than Victor had feared.  “Is it really that bad?”  He asked.  “Even acting independent of a higher command, the fleet ships should stand better than that!”

The strategist shook his head and let out a sigh.  “They've been beaten pretty badly.  The fleet moral is shot to hell, and crew fellowship is starting to fall apart.  People are scared, and individuals are more concerned for themselves than their fellow crewmen, let alone the fleet as a whole.  If it were isolated, things would be different, but it's happening everywhere.”

“Damn.”  Victor muttered.  He hadn't realized how badly the situation had deteriorated.  He looked at the displays again.  They were in a tight spot tactically: trapped inside a dead zone where their drives wouldn't function, ambushed by a waiting Xahn'Kri force that outnumbered them, and caught in an internal struggle for command.  Drifting up shit creek without a paddle, and the boat just sprung a leak.  It was no wonder the crews were becoming rebellious.  Victor continued to mutter, it helped him think.  “How did this happen?”

He reviewed the events of the past few weeks.  The fleet had been part of a larger assault force in a retaliatory offensive.  In order to avoid detection until they were in place to strike their target, the fleet had vectored far away from the front lines, with the intention of looping back towards Xahn'Kri space.  This course had led them through an uncharted and previously unexplored part of space.

That was when they fell into the dead zone.  They had been crossing the stars at sixty times light speed one moment, and the next they were at a dead standstill in real space.  Dead zones were gravitational bubbles that sometimes formed between stars, and they had an adverse effect on every known faster-than-light drive.  Caught flat footed, the fleet was taking fire before it had even realized the Xahn'Kri were there.  The enemy forces were moving at nearly a tenth of light speed in real space, while the fleet was caught without any momentum behind them.  This gave the Xahn'Kri a formidable advantage; one that the fleet had been hard pressed to overcome.

By the time the fleet had been brought up to combat speed, almost all of the ships had taken some damage.  The Vertigo had lost both her captain and her first officer, leaving Victor in charge.  The fleet had likewise lost the high admiral when the super capital ship Starbuster had been destroyed.  Command of the fleet passed to an admiral named Cage, who managed to hold the fleet together long enough to regroup and retreat from the advancing enemy forces.  Cage had been aboard the Unfailing.

“Damn.”  Victor said again, aloud this time.  He had finally made his decision.  It was the only decision left to him.  “We have no choice then.  We won't be coming back for the rest of the fleet.  When we get clear of the dead zone, we jump with the auxiliary and reserve divisions.”  There was a sudden intake of breath from everyone aboard the bridge.

“We're just going to leave them to die?”  Protested Haily.

“What choice do we have?”  Victor snapped.  Then more calmly he replied.  “The whole fleet died the moment command succession was breached, but instead of allowing that to happen, I'm going to do my damnedest to save three divisions of ships.”

“There has to be something else we can do.”  Haily continued pleadingly.  No one stepped forward with a response.

“We could stay and fight alongside them.”  Victor said, his voice cold.  “We would then die with them, and nothing more would be accomplished.”  He held Haily in his gaze.  “Better that we save those who we can.  Better that we escape this massacre alive, so that somewhere in the future we might have the chance to make them pay for what they've done.”  She bowed her head in affirmation, and her protests died.  What resistance there was among the others died with them.

Victor spent the next five minutes outlining the plan.  While he was drawing ship movements across his display, Greg was busy contacting the commanders of the second and fifth reserve formations, and informing them of the plan.  The fifth reserve commander, a senior captain, had some misgivings about leaving his fellows behind.  “If you feel that strongly about it, captain, I suggest you open channels to the rest of the fleet and see if you can convince anyone to put their ships under our formations.  If they do, they're more than welcome to join us.”  The captain agreed to do just that.

The auxiliary commander however, had needed very little convincing before she agreed to fall in with the mercenary withdrawal.  She had already guessed the extent of the situation well before Greg contacted her, and when he told her the details of the plan she smiled wickedly.  They were going to hurt the Xahn'Kri badly when they withdrew.

Ten minutes later the Xahn'Kri ship clusters began their advance.  Victor gave the order, and the mercenary forces gathered with Vertigo at their center.  The commander of the fifth reserve had managed to hold several dozen conversations during the preparations, and thirty two ships broke away from their designated formations to join his group.  Greg started laughing when he saw the movements.  “By all that is, that smooth talking bastard convinced over thirty ships to side with us!”

“It wouldn't have been that hard, with the state the fleet is in.”  Victor commented.

“They were probably pretty desperate.”  Haily added.

“Still, that many ships will give us a decidedly better chance of breaking clear.”  Greg said.

“Yes, it will at that.”  Victor nodded slowly.  He was thinking again.  He suddenly had a really bad feeling about something.  When his thoughts solidified he pulled up the communications board and paged the Felicitous.  There was an immediate response.  “Hello captain, may I speak with your strategist again?”  He asked, and a moment later the man appeared.  “Can you to tell me what the survival rate of the fleet is now that so many ships have joined our withdrawal?”

The strategist paused, and considered it for a moment.  “As little as five percent effectives by the time we clear the dead zone.”  He said somberly.

Damn.  Victor thought, furiously.  “Thanks.”  He said, cutting the link.  He looked at Greg.  “I don't care what it takes, just get me an open channel with the rest of the fleet, so I can beg those fools to listen to reason.”

Greg nodded and turned away.  A moment later he turned back.  “I have a response from two of the admiralty, but they're operating on private signals.”

“See if you can hijack the signal and rebroadcast it to everyone.  I'm going to taunt the bastards.  Who knows, a little provocation might be good for them.” 

With that he turned to his own display and keyed in the link.  An angry face greeted him, and the admiral spat words like venom.  “How dare you subvert ships under my command.  I'll have your head for this, mercenary.”

Victor decided to ignore him.  “Gentlemen.”  He said calmly.  “It may or may not have come to your attention, but the current state of the fleet is untenable.  I have begun an organized withdrawal from the field.  I encourage all of you to join me, before it's too late.  The fleet cannot survive a full out battle with the enemy before us, we would be destroyed.  While you two have been fighting over command, I've been planning our egress.  It isn't perfect, and we'll have to blast through the enemy flanking formations, but it's workable.  It has a good chance at getting most of us out of this alive.  Which is damn better than anything that either of you have proposed.”  He pointedly looked at the admiral who had made the previous outburst.  “If you have an issue with me taking this action, you can read over my contract any time you like.  I think you'll find that the high admiral had an exceptional level of trust in the abilities of mercenaries, such that he gave us the authority to act independent of higher command.”

“Are you insane?  This is a fleet of the Systems Alliance.  You have no authority here, mercenary!  Any ships that follow you are in violation of military code, and are considered traitors under that law.  They will be dealt with accordingly!”  He was boiling in his own rage.

“Believe it or not, I actually didn't page you to contest your command.  I called to beg you to fall in with my retreat.  This is your only chance at survival.  If you stand and fight, you will all die.”

“What nonsense is this?”  The second admiral spoke up.  “By what logic do you see us dependent on you?  We are perfectly capable of executing our own retreat.  The only thing we need from you is the return of our ships.”  Victor almost laughed, but just barely managed to hold it in.

“Time is ticking away, admirals.  The Xahn'Kri will be within firing range in a couple of minutes.  And after that, I won't be able to help you.”

“We can organize our own retreat!”  The first admiral declared.

This time Victor couldn't stop the laughter from escaping his mouth.  “With what?  Without any support from our fighter squadrons you'll be torn apart as soon as you turn.”  This was common tactical knowledge, and Victor didn’t understand how anyone could be so incompetent as to overlook it.

“We don't need your help with anything!”  But this admiral was continuing to prove it was possible.

“Are you serious?”  Victor gasped in a last attempt to reason with the man.  “Don’t you even know your own effectives?”
“I don’t need advice from a good for nothing mercenary!  I'm done with you!”

“You bloody ignorant fool!  You lost three carrier ships in the first run, and the two you have left are less than fifty percent combat effective.  You don't have any fighters left!”  Just as he finished speaking, the link went dead.  He looked at Greg.  “What just happened?”

Greg shook his head.  “I'm sorry, he cut the connection.  Given the time lag, he must have done it before receiving your reply.  He wouldn't have heard anything you said.”

“What about the fleet?  Did you manage to redirect the signal?”

“Yea, I did.  Every ship in the fleet heard the whole thing, and dozens of them are turning about to join with our formations.”
“Good.  At least we saved someone.”

Haily turned towards the two men.  “You do realize that some of the ships in our formations are pretty badly damaged, don't you?”

“Yea.  I've issued orders to have most of them brought to the center of the crescent, so they'll be less exposed to hostile fire.”
“While that's a good thing, my real reason for concern is that it looks like some of them won’t be able to keep up with us.”

Victor stood up and walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to look at her display.  She pointed out the offending blips.  A wave of his stylus displayed status logs from the ships.  They were pretty bad, and getting worse.  One was down to sixty percent propulsion, but they had the situation stabilized.  Unfortunately the other was at eighty five percent, and dropping fast.  They might even lose propulsion entirely.  “Greg.”  Victor called.  “Get me a link to the captain of the Ascent.“  He said, watching the status screen with growing alarm.  “And Greg, please hurry.”

A moment later Greg patched him through, and Victor took the link at his chair.  Victor was surprised to see that it was a woman who answered his link.  Women were rare in the predominantly male military.  It was rarer still for a woman to attain command.  Not unheard of, and far more common in mercenary circles, but still uncommon.  “Captain, I need to know if you are going to make it, or if I should have you abandon ship.”

“If we can get the reactor mass under control, it won't be a problem.  Unfortunately the bastards got a lucky shot and hit the control rods.  We've been dumping fuel, trying to bring the reactor down slowly.  The backups are all fine.  With the secondary reactors alone we can get another twenty percent.  As long as we don't have to jettison more than forty percent of our primary reactor mass, we should be fine.”

“I'm glad to hear it.  Keep me updated, and let me know immediately if you think the situation is getting any worse.”

“I will.  And if I could just say one more thing.  Thank you, for stepping up.  We needed you.”

“I'm just doing what I can to save us all.”  Victor replied.  She nodded and cut the link.

“Victor, there's someone on the link that you might want to have a chat with.”  Greg said.

“Who is it?”

“The second admiral; he wants to put his ships under your command.”

“I'll be damned.  Put him through.”  Greg transferred the link and Victor activated it on his chair terminal.  The admiral looked wearier than he had earlier.  “Hello admiral.”

“Let’s get this straight Victor; I'm not here to play games.  I've read your file, and I know all about that stunt you pulled in Lokuto.  But I don't really have too many options here.  I'm trusting you in this, and I'm placing all of the ships that have sworn to me under your command.  They're already on their way to join your formations.”

“Thank you admiral.  You've spared them from a pointless death.”

“Perhaps.  Perhaps I have only postponed it.  But for me it no longer matters.  I will not be joining the rest of my ships.  The crew of the Eternal has decided to stand with me.  My ships are yours.  Get them out of this trap.  Get them home.”
“Don't worry admiral, I will.”  Victor said.

“And I'll hold you to that.”  He paused.  “I'll make sure our lives buy you the time you need.”

Victor didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing.  After a moment the admiral terminated the link, leaving him to brood in silence.  The minutes passed, each one like an eternity for Victor as he watched the enemy close in.  And then time no longer mattered.

From the two hundred and seventy three ships that survived the ambush, one hundred and eighty six had chosen to withdraw with the mercenary detachments.  They would save just over two thirds of the fleet.  The other third would die in a battle so one sided it would amount to nothing more than suicide.  This was now a foregone conclusion; even if the fleet fled now, they would still be overrun before they cleared the dead zone.  Time had run out, and their fate was sealed.  The Xahn’Kri spores raced ahead while their clusters moved in for the kill.

*          *          *          *

Corporal Viantez was surprised at the calm that descended over him.  After the decision had been made, the crew of the Eternal had set about their tasks with religious fervor.  This was to be the last job they would ever be asked to do, and by all that is: they were going to do it well.  Viantez sat at his consol, watching the computer generate firing solutions against the incoming swarm.  He guided the computer with a few motions of his stylus, and had it single out a group of spores.

Viantez glanced back at the admiral, and his mood brightened instantly.  The admiral sat in his chair wearing a fierce grin as he watched the bridge crew perform their duties.  He was like a father watching his children; his grin was both proud and reassuring.  Somehow this made Viantez feel eager for the battle that was coming, despite the certain death they faced.  He would do his duty, this one last time, and he would live long enough to be worthy of that grin.

*          *          *          *

Victor watched the Xahn'Kri formations and studied their movement, trying to figure them out.  The Xahn'Kri had been a mystery since they first appeared.  They attacked without warning from a previously unknown region of space, using ship unlike anything ever seen before.  And all attempts to communicate and reason with the Xahn'Kri had failed.  The Xahn'Kri were just too utterly alien.

When the war began, the Xahn'Kri swarms descended upon the worlds of the Systems Alliance in unstoppable numbers.  Despite having both surprise and numerical advantage, the invaders were routed on five of the thirteen worlds that were invaded.  The senate had unanimously voted to declare war, vowing to retake the lost worlds.  The Systems Alliance had not been ready for war.  The combined military of the seven races was barely enough to create a single fleet.  And so the government had turned to mercenaries to fill in the ranks.

The Xahn'Kri invaders used an organic technology that was not yet understood, but had proven to be the equal of anything the Systems Alliance could devise.  This was made apparent when the Xahn'Kri released a pathogen designed to eradicate the Mar'dar species just hours after encountering them.  Philosophers later argued that the pathogen had actually been designed very quickly, and that most of the delay had involved converting the genetic material to make the pathogen.  This might have been the case, because when the Xahn'Kri did release their plague, they sprayed enough of the pathogen to kill every Mar'dar world twenty times over.

Yet it was the Xahn'Kri ships that were the most frightening aspect of this technology.  Before the arrival of the Xahn'Kri, no one had ever considered the possibility of organic ships.  These ships could be grown in a fraction of the time it took to build a Systems Alliance ship.  They were also capable of regenerating all but the most lethal of battle damage.  And if they had a source of biomass to convert, the Xahn'Kri could double the size of their fleet in just a few months.  It took the Systems Alliance almost two months to replace even a small fleet.

The physics of faster than light travel set limits on the mass of a ship.  This was because the energy requirements for adding mass rose exponentially.  As new and more advanced energy sources were developed, it became possible to support larger and heavier ships.  But the smaller a ship was, the more efficient it was, and the faster it could travel.  The trade offs were simple.  Larger ships could carry more cargo, support more weapons, and survive longer in battle.  A merchant craft would have to decide between carrying more while burning more fuel and traveling slower, or carrying less while conserving fuel and reaching their destinations faster.  Often freight haulers settled for a balance between the two.  The military utilized ships of every class, because they didn't have to run efficiently or concern themselves with costs.  They had to win battles.

The vanguard of the Xahn'Kri swarm was composed of an agile fighter, called a spore.  The spores were only really deadly when they vastly outnumbered their targets.  But the damned things spat explosive acid and carried a deadly pair of organic missiles.  These missiles were the real danger, since they intelligently tracked their targets, and displayed an uncanny knack for avoiding countermeasures.  When they connected with a target, the missiles released a volatile mixture of chemicals and acids.  This mixture had a yield similar to an equal amount of antimatter.

Victor continued to watch as the first missiles streaked away from the enemy fighters, and were met by defensive laser fire.  For a few minutes both fleets exchanged steady fire, with the enemy fighters rushing in to drop missiles and then darting out of targeting range.  But all too soon the Xahn'Kri clusters came into the fight, and launched their missiles into the fray.  When this happened, the enemy fighters closed and engaged, no longer concerned with the countermeasures available to the fleet.  To their credit, the fleet lasted for almost fifteen minutes, surviving wave after wave of enemy clusters.

*          *          *          *

The bridge of the Eternal became a flurry of activity as the enemy closed.  Viantez watched as three spores shot past the countermeasures and fired a swarm of missiles.  He activated the manual weapons release and brought the first of the craft in line with his sights.  A moment later the spore disintegrated as a blade of coherent light cut through it.  The other two followed close behind.

There was a slight tremor as the ship took a hit.  Another moment passed and there was a metallic scream as the hull was ripped apart by multiple hits.  The lights flickered and the ship jerked suddenly.  Viantez suddenly felt his stomach lurch as the gravity cut out, and when another shockwave pulsed through the ship he was thrown against the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious.  He was not awake when the admiral ordered the bridge evacuated, and he still had not regained consciousness when the atmosphere was lost to structural damage.

*          *          *          *

Despite the enormous numerical superiority the enemy had, the admirals had somehow managed to regroup and reform the wall of battle as each wave hit.  Doing so, they were able to meet the enemy with nearly equal force.  The wall of battle collapsed only when two waves chanced to arrive at the same time.  Even then there were damn few enemy ships still alive when the missiles stopped flying.  For the second time that day, Victor stood at attention and saluted the brave men who had just given their lives.

Victor glanced at his display.  The fleet formation under him would reach the enemy flanking groups in five minutes.  They were facing three flanking formations directly in their path, and two others that would intercept them before they cleared the dead zone.  If any of these groups delayed them by more than a few minutes, the enemy would be able to trap them and they would be finished.

Victor knew this, and he had deliberately staggered his formations to offer the Xahn'Kri a tempting target.  Another few minutes passed, and the leading Xahn'Kri formation took the bait.  The computer ran the projected course and began calculating the intercept time.  Victor started sweating as he waited for the computer to finish.  When it finally bleeped an intercept time, he activated his link.  “All ships in reserve formation five, play is confirmed, time is twelve-nine.  I repeat, play is confirmed, time is twelve-nine.”  He cut the link and let out a sigh.

Exactly thirty seven seconds later, the fifth reserve formation cut loose, aiming high and shooting fast, just as the auxiliaries in the exposed formation dropped back at a downward angle.  The second reserve formation moved up the center, with a contact time a little behind the rest.  It was a slaughter.  The Xahn'Kri force had come in without realizing that they were being led into a trap.  The auxiliaries had slowly increased their downward angle, drawing the enemy deeper and deeper.  By the time the Xahn'Kri commander had realized his mistake, it was far too late.

The fleet only lost a single ship, and that was because of propulsion failure.  No longer able to keep up, the crew had abandoned ship, rigging it to blow.  The crew was now safely distributed on ships throughout the fleet.  Victor ordered the formations to get back into line, and tightened up the crescent.  The auxiliaries and the more damaged of the fleet ships were kept in the center, while the cruisers and frigates were scattered along the edges.  After another couple of minutes the two remaining Xahn'Kri formations closed in.

The fighters in both enemy groups shot forward with total disregard for survivability, while the clusters stayed back and struck with lasers, doing little damage.  The fleet was practicing standard ordinance conservation, because no one knew when they would be able to resupply.  This meant that they wouldn't return fire until they were within optimal range.  Haily saw it first.  “Victor!”  She said, staring at her screens.

“What is it?”  He asked.

“I think the spores are going to suicide.”

Victor looked back at his display.  It made sense.  The fighters couldn't hope to survive when they closed the distance, but they were coming in anyhow.  But if they were planning to kamikaze, their actions made perverse sense.  He immediately called up the fleet wide link.  “All ships be advised, incoming fighters may attempt to suicide.  Do not let them close.  You are authorized to fire all batteries.  Ordinance conservation is now suspended.  Kill the bastards.”

Victor activated another command channel and spoke calmer orders.  “All carrier ships are clear to launch fighters.  All fighter squadrons are clear to engage hostiles.  Make sure you stay out of the fleet fire solutions, and be advised that enemy fighters are your primary target.  We cannot risk them closing with the fleet.  Command out.”  He said, terminating the link.

*          *          *          *

Kathryn practically flew out the door when she heard the orders.  She was sliding into her fighter before Victor even finished, and the first one fly clear of the ship.  She did a quick circle around the Vertigo as she waited for the rest of her wing to catch up.  There were four other craft assigned to her wing, and when they gathered, she led them to where they could engage the closing enemy.

Spatial data poured in from the sensors of the fleet, and was uploaded to her fighter.  Kathryn watched the information reads carefully, mentally translating them into a sphere of space, and plotting the Xahn’Kri positions within it.  Finally she judged the moment right, and her wing executed a banking dive, attacking the enemy from directly above.  They blew past, killing five of the twenty six fighters, and losing none of their own.  Another quick maneuver brought them up behind the enemy, and they let loose with all the plasma they could generate.

Then the missiles were loosed.  Nine more enemies died.  Out of the twelve remaining fighters, seven turned back to engage her group, and Kathryn grinned furiously.  The formations met and collapsed into anarchy.  Having no way to command from within that chaos, Kathryn instead focused on killing as many enemies as she could.  In this endeavor she was successful.

Fighter craft from both sides darted this way and that, each one chasing after death, and a few meeting with hideous destruction, a result.

*          *          *          *

Under sustained fire from the fleet, the enemy fighters that blew past the engagement didn't last long.  It was almost pitifully easy for the targeting computers to deal with the five remaining fighters.  The last one died about a minute after the fleet let loose.  On the other flank, the enemy had suffered nearly the same casualty rate.  The fleet forces had lost only three fighters in the short battle.

Victor gave the order for the fighters to close and engage the cluster ships.  Xahn’Kri cluster ships were devastating weapons of destruction, but were most capable in long ranged engagement.  When they were brought into close distance battles they relied almost entirely upon their fighters.  That was why each cluster ship carried a compliment of thirteen fighter craft.  But, having spent those in a suicidal charge, the cluster ships were now virtually defenseless to the approaching fleet wings.  Even so, another two fighters were lost taking them out.  But both pilots were recovered when the wings returned to the fleet.

“How long until we clear the dead zone?”  Victor asked.

“About three more minutes.”  Haily told him.  “We’ll break out just before the last flanking group reaches us.”

Victor smiled at her.  “Finally some good news.”  He said, and then activated a fleet-wide link.  “All ships, we will clear the dead zone in a little less than three minutes, I want all ships to cycle drives and prepare to jump.  All fighters are to return to carrier ships.  Follow plan scramble and rally at beta coordinates.”  He finished. 

Three minutes later Haily turned to him.  “We’re clear.”

“All ships, initiate jump.”  Victor said, keying on his display.  He turned to Greg just as Kathryn walked onto the bridge.  “We go last.”  He told him, watching Kathryn take the empty pilot’s chair.  The ships in the fleet started to vanish, one by one, giving off brief flashes of visible light as they left.  Soon they were jumping so rapidly that dozens flashed every second, and a few vanished together in the same instant.  In another ten seconds, all but two ships had flashed.

Victor cursed when he saw it.  Ascent stood in space, her jump drives inactive.  “Get me-“  He began, but Greg cut him off.
“Already done, she’s on line two.”

Victor immediately keyed the link.  “Captain, tell me you can still jump.”  He begged.

“We can still jump.”  She said.  Then she turned to someone and talked for a moment before turning back to Victor.  “There was a flaw in the spool, and we’ll have to cycle up the drives again.”  Her voice turned somber.  “At least four minutes.”  She said.

Victor started running the figures, but Haily had already done so.  She fed them into his display and he shook his head when he saw them.  “We have three minutes until the Xahn’Kri reach us.”  He told the captain.  She nodded slowly.  They both knew what that meant.  There was no chance for their ships against an entire cluster group, let alone two.  “I’ll deploy my fighters and take up a defensive stance.  We might be able to hold them long enough that you can finish cycling.”  Victor told her.

“I can’t let you do that!  Two ships don’t have to die here.  Get clear while you can.”  She told him.

Victor shook his head.  “It isn’t in me to abandon you.”  He told her.

“By all that is!  I’m telling you to jump, damn it!  If you don’t go now, I’ll blow my fission bottle and remove your reason for staying!”  She threatened.

“May I know just one thing?”  Victor asked, head bowed.  “What is your name?”

She smiled, letting out a deep, throaty laugh.  “Sandra; my name is Sandra.”

“It was a pleasure to know you, Sandra.”  Victor said, his steady voice betraying none of the emotion he felt.  Sandra seemed to see through him, and nodded reassuringly before cutting the link.  With that he gave the order and the Vertigo jumped.