Battle for Proxima (22 page)

The mighty battlecruiser vanished for almost thirty seconds, as the clouds shrouded her in the dust and debris of the close quarter action. Right behind her, followed two armoured cruisers, each of these ships with its side gunports wide open and their weapons ready for close ranged battle. These ships were part of the escaped 7
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Fleet from Alpha Centauri and were a powerful addition to the Fleet. Though nothing as powerful as the Crusader, they fitted somewhere between the capabilities of a conventional cruiser and a ship like the Crusader. They lacked the rotating sections of the more recent ship designs, but made up for it with additional weapons mounts and armour. As well as side-mounted railguns, they carried the massive 400mm automatic cannons. In years gone by, these ships were so powerful, even their presence was known to be enough to quell dissent on some of the more troublesome stations or bases in the Confederacy. Today, they were the second rate capital ships in a mighty fleet.

CCS Crusader moved past the enemy line and turned sharply so that she could run down the flank of the force, her guns still blazing. Following her course, the first armoured cruiser added its own fire to the already badly damaged enemy ships. Doing much the same job as the Crusader, the armoured cruiser quickly dispatched one of the larger enemy vessels in an impressive display of coordinated firepower. Each railgun round smashed through large sections of the ship, some of them even going so far as to pass completely through the vessel. It was a massacre.

At the same time as the first column smashing the line, Rear Admiral Churchill’s force of ships did the same towards the rear of the enemy formation. It was a textbook assault in the fashion of the naval battles of old. The Confederation warships were tougher and better armed for the close range duelling. Behind the two columns the carrier Wasp waited, protected by a swarm of frigates and gunboats. As she stood off at a safe distance, her squadrons of fighters rushed out to assist. A much smaller number of the assault gunboats moved ahead. These powerful vessels were usually used to escort transports and were armed to the point of excess. The small fighters darted around the craft in small formations. From a distance, it looked like a mighty two-pronged dart being stabbed into the heart of the enemy line. In the centre of the enemy fleet, protected by the two large cruisers, was the Leviathan. Her dark red hull looking almost black, unless lit by weapons fire or the direct illumination of the star.

As the battle started its first bloody stage, the second part of the Fleet started firing their reverse engines. At that moment they were out of scanning range, but it wouldn’t be long before the planetary assault force reached its destination. This formidable force included the assault carrier CCS Ark Royal and her compliment of fighters. The mighty formation of ships approached the planet almost half an hour behind the primary attack force.

* * *

Flashes burst around the group of fighters, as they braved their way into the heart of the space conflict. From inside his Lightning Mk II fighter, Wing Commander Anders did his best to avoid the incoming flak guns and debris. The action was well underway as the fighters rushed past the battle lines looking for targets of opportunity. The small twin-engine craft was fast and agile and usually used as a high-speed interceptor. Their speed and agility was their only realistic defence in a place where they could be crippled by a single cannon round. Though not as powerful as the heavier Thunderbolt strike bomber they were escorting, they still carried a powerful payload of Skua anti-ship missiles and powerful automatic cannons. The enemy forces were taking heavy damage and his fighter wing was looking for stragglers to pick off. A series of messages from CCS Royal Oak and CCS Crusader popped onto his helmet display.

“Angel One to Angel Squadron, vector seven. We have two vessels breaking off. Escort the heavies into range, watch for turret fire!”

The squadron of eight fighters split up into two groups of four, each one altering course to bring them in front and to the flank of the four Thunderbolt fighter bombers from Delta Squadron. These heavier fighters were easily double the size of the Lightnings and powered by four substantial engines. They carried two crew, but the size and number of defensive turrets showed a marked difference in design and capability. Above and below the wings, fitted onto the pylons, sat a dozen Skua anti-ship missiles. They were the same light missiles used by all Confed fighters but these craft carried far more. Under the hull, was a single tungsten tipped anti-ship torpedo. In the nose of the weapon was a state of the art micro-fission charge. These tiny nuclear warheads were the most powerful weapons carried by fighters and capable of destroying a cutter, or even a destroyer, with one well aimed shot. The hardened tip would allow it to penetrate deep inside the hull of the target before the warhead ignited. All of this was irrelevant, if they couldn’t get close enough to target the enemy ships.

The Wing Commander checked his tactical displays, noting the massive amount of electronic jamming taking place. It wasn’t strong enough to interrupt his communication systems, but it would stop the targeting computer. There was no chance he, or the rest of the fighters, could get a decent weapon lock under these circumstances. They would have to launch their weapons on a direct line of sight. This made it much more difficult to get into position and also a lot easier for the enemy to shoot down the approaching ordnance.

“Wilks, put the Skua missiles on manual, we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.”

His gunner nodded and flicked a number of switches to deactivate the main tracking system for the missiles. A series of flak bursts shook the craft as they passed two duelling warships and moved in on a direct course to the stern of a retreating Union frigate. They were less than ten kilometres away and though the frigate was leaving a trail of debris and lifeboats, its guns were still firing.

“Delta Squadron, I’m getting tactical data from the Wasp. The line has been split and part of their fleet is trying to escape. Gunboats are heading for the heavy cruiser. We have the two trying to sneak away. Right here.”

He tapped the button that would send a marker to each fighter. Their mapping displays would show the designated target, as well as highlighting it on the head up displays built into their helmets.

“We’ll take the frigate first, then we’ll deal with the light cruiser.”

“Hold on!” he forced the nose of his jet downwards and hit the thrust button. Unlike movement in the atmosphere, in space the fighters kept travelling in the same direction unless they used their thrusts to alter the course. They moved lower until they approached from underneath the rear of the ship. Four point defence turrets blazed away, each one released a series of small calibre cannon rounds.

Wing Commander Anders spotted the incoming fire at the last moment and hit the vector thrusters button. It was for emergency course changes and sent a massive burst of power from an additional engine outlet mounted on the top and bottom of the fighter. The burst hit the two men like a sledgehammer, pushing the fighter down thirty metres before he corrected their course. The stream of shells tore past, missing the fighter by just a few metres. Their wingman wasn’t fast enough and a number of the rounds ripped through the nose and port wing, shredding the vessel and blasting it off course.

The two groups of fighters kept on their course, continuing to drift up and down to throw off some of the incoming weapons fire. They were past the centre of the battle and approaching three heavy frigate type vessels, all of which appeared to be breaking away from the heavy fire of the Confed cruisers. One of the ships had scores of domes along its flanks and top of the hull.

“Angel Squadron, watch out, the main target looks like a fleet defence ship. Take her out fast!” he barked.

“Sir, we’re in range!” shouted his gunner.

“Do it! Do it!” he cried and did his best to keep the fighter on a straight course. It wasn’t easy as streams of gunfire ripped past him, threatening to destroy the fighter in a single burst. As he tapped the joystick, he spotted the flashes from the other fighters and then felt the clunk from his own wing pylons. Four missiles released from their mounts and with a burst of fire pushed away from the fighter. At first their speed appeared slow, but they increased in velocity quickly, each missile hurtling towards the rear of the larger enemy ship. No sooner had they released their missiles, he gave the evasion signal.

He hit the vector button again and lifted the fighter up high and away from possible defensive fire. The burst of power from below the fighter pushed the crew downwards and Wing Commander Anders’ vision started to fade before the computer took over and reversed the thrust to put them back on course.

“Everybody here?”

He had his answer before anybody could speak. On the main tactical display, it flashed the status of the squadrons and showed him they were still down just one fighter. So far, so good. They moved over the warship and accelerated towards their next target. Below them the weapons turrets blazed away, but this time the enemy were more interested in fighting off the dozens of Skua missiles streaking towards their ship.

Once the first missile reached two hundred metres from the weapons detection, alarms flashed on the fighters. The point defence mounts must have triggered their close quarter mode, as the area of space around the ship filled with thousands of metal shards from the small Gatling gun mounts. The rapid fire weapons made short work of the first eight missiles, each of the guns tracking quickly to explode them as they reached the defensive perimeter. Only so many could be stopped, one struck near the port engine, quickly followed by another five. The first explosion was small, the blast contained by the medium armour. As the follow-up missiles arrived the damage expanded until a series of explosions tore out a large section from her hull.

All of this was insignificant next to the two torpedoes that followed right behind the missiles. The smaller Skua weapons were merely a decoy to keep the turrets occupied. A hail of small calibre defensive fire from three rotating turrets managed to clip one torpedo. The onboard computer sensed the distance to the target and also the damage it had sustained, determining it had to detonate. Though it was fifty metres away from the ship’s hull, the heat from the explosion managed to create significant damage. Even better, the explosion blinded the defensive system from the second torpedo. It slammed inside the damaged ship and exploded with a blinding flash deep inside its hull. A bright blue flash indicated the main power system had been breached and streaks of energy and debris tore from the inside.

“Beautiful!” Anders rolled over to watch the stern tear completely away from the ship, both sections now blazing from internal fires. Additional explosions continued along her entire length.

“Angel and Delta Squadrons, reform on me.”

In didn’t take long for the remaining fighters to regroup and move to a safer distance from the ongoing battle.

“Are you seeing this?” called Angel Three.

“All I can see is a whole lot of lead being flung down there!” exclaimed one of the other pilots.

Wing Commander Anders glanced at the tactical map. The space battle was becoming messy. Dozens of ships were now broken from formation and small skirmishes between two or three ships at a time made it look more like a ground battle. He could see their target, the break in the line, where a light cruiser was trying to escape. During their attack, the cruiser must have been joined by another frigate and they were circling a Confed armoured cruiser. The enemy vessels included a small number of captured Confederate ships, at least two cruisers and three Achilles class frigates. It made visual scanning difficult with so many similar ships fighting.

“Sir, I think the larger ship is on a collision course with the cruiser!” called one of his wingmen.

He looked at the unfolding battle and hit the analysis engine built into his computer system. It quickly calculated the likelihood of collision, his wingman was correct.

“Affirmative. They will strike the Valiant in seventy seconds.”

“Can they evade?”

“Negative, they are already trying. The enemy cruiser is faster and more manoeuvrable.”

He checked to his left and his right, ensuring the rest of the fighters were with him.

“We have two more torpedoes left. Break and attack, we have to keep her away from the Valiant.”

“What about the frigate?”

Wing Commander Anders thought for a moment. He had just seven fighters and four bombers. It was maybe enough to damage the frigate, or the cruiser, but not both. He couldn’t decide and was about to say something when one of the bombers spotted movement from the centre of the battle line.

“Sir! The Crusader!” he shouted.

Anders looked down to his right, unable to see what was happening. Then he saw her. The Crusader smashed through the wreckage of the crippled cruiser and towards the approaching enemy light cruiser. As she emerged from the dust and sparks, her damaged, but still intact armoured prow, was forcing through like a battering ram. Though most of her weapons were along the hull in the rotating rings, there were still four guns mounted in the bow and they fired continually. The volleys of projectiles surged ahead and tore chunks out of the two enemy ships.

“Sweet! Look at her go!” cried one of the bomber pilots.

As the hulk of the ship cleared the debris, her broadside batteries were clear and even more railguns opened fire. Several looked like scatter guns as they blasted the approaching enemy ships. The front of the enemy light cruiser vanished, as metre-long sections were ripped apart. A ripple of blue explosions ran along the dorsal section of the ship, as it ripped apart into three almost equal sections. The remaining frigate turned to flee, but was already taking dozens of railgun rounds in her flank. Lifeboats appeared to be launching.

A light on the comms system indicated a coded message from the warship. He tapped the receive key.