Star Force: Backstab (SF23) Read online

  The Canderian Legat watched quietly as his bridge crew waited for his orders, none of them panicking. They were soldiers all, as was every other person on the seda. If he gave the word they’d snap into action efficiently and effectively, but first he needed to get an idea of what was going on out there.

  As he watched the battle he looked for signs that the Nestafar had allies in the fight, but the Protovic warships that had been on station weren’t participating. Instead they were pulling out, save for one. A cruiser sitting alongside a pair of Calavari warships returned fire on a Nestafar destroyer when it attacked, suggesting to Orion that the Protovic had not been informed of this assault and they weren’t sure how to respond.

  The battle was quickly turning into a rout as the overwhelmed defenders didn’t coordinate with one another. That was sloppy, and just the sort of thing the mission of this planet was attempting to counter. The Alliance…or what was left of it at this point…had to work and fight together if they were going to survive this day, let alone the war against the lizards.

  Orion didn’t even bother to turn his head away from the hologram as he calmly but firmly ordered everyone into action. “Battle stations.”

  A repetitive alarm sounded throughout the seda, which the Canderians immediately responded to. It had been drilled into them during their days in the maturia and initiated an immediate adrenaline surge every time they heard it…for the Canderians didn’t believe in staged drills, and if the call to arms sounded they knew trouble was afoot.

  As the crew moved into action bulkhead doors slammed shut all over the station…which subsequently opened small, phone booth-sized auxiliary passageways around the doors so the crew could still pass through via the most basic of airlock systems in case there was a hull breach. That was unlikely, given the thick armor covering the spherical station and the strategically designed inner layers that had most vital systems located within the core, but the Canderians weren’t ones to take chances and had built the sedas with multiple doomsday contingencies in mind.

  Orion sat back down in his command chair and brought up the Hycre translation protocol. The small hologram appeared on his right, indicating that the line was now active.

  “Pull them our way and we can assist.”

  WE CANNOT. THEY ARE TARGETING UNARMED SHIPS FIRST.

  Orion paused the Hycre channel. “Get me comm lines to all allied ships out there…scratch that, just give me open comm, I don’t care if the Nestafar are listening.”

  A small light illuminated on his control chair, indicating that the appropriate setups for the transmission had been completed. He pushed the button and began to address the entire system in the trade language.

  “All ships, repeat, all allied ships. Fall back to our seda. We will provide covering fire. Rendezvous here and we stand a fighting chance. All ships, rally at the Human station,” he said, belatedly realizing that they probably didn’t know what a seda was.

  Before he had even finished the statement a few of the unarmed transports began altering course as they ran away from the planet and redirected towards what was the only safe zone in orbit. The stations that the Calavari had built for starfighter training were armed, but they had been the first targets of the Nestafar and were currently swarmed with warships systematically tearing them apart and ensuring that the thousands of fighters inside wouldn’t be joining in the battle.

  “Incoming comm,” one of the bridge crew noted.

  “Send it to me,” the Legat ordered, punching it up on his command chair arm controls. This time a hologram appeared with the image of a Protovic and Orion authorized video response.

  “We are not part of this,” the armored suit-clad alien insisted. “We revoke any ties we had with the Nestafar. May we approach your station and take part in its defense?”

  “You may. Approach in such a way that you don’t obscure our firing lines, then take up flanking positions with your warships and let the transports hide behind the station with ours.”

  The Protovic nodded gratefully, then the transmission cut out.

  “Status on our fighters?”

  “About half are online,” one of the bridge crew answered as the remote control stations were actively logging in on his display board from their positions in other chambers across the seda.

  “Get them into space and have them hold position with our cargo ships. They are to wait there until called for or until the enemy gets to them. Inform the Archons that we’re about to be engaged.”

  “We’ve lost contact,” the Canderian comm officer reported.

  Orion frowned. They’d been informed that there was combat going on inside the base just before the warships had arrived, now to lose communications…but then again if the Archons were under attack they’d be fighting, not manning a comm station. Still…

  The Canderian commander watched the orbital display as the Nestafar finished off the Calavari stations en mass while half their fleet was out fighting/pursuing the ships in orbit. Several had already escaped the planet, making micro-jumps away for those with strong enough gravity drives, but some of the smaller Nestafar warships were pursuing them and it soon became clear that they didn’t want anyone getting away.

  With that evident more and more ships started to flee towards the Human station, it being their last refuge as the Alliance warships were being overrun. When one of the Hycre destroyers was taken down it seemed to send out a pulse of panic and soon every ship within range was coming up to the seda…and dragging some of the Nestafar with them.

  That was good, Orion knew. Better to engage them piecemeal than all at once…especially if they didn’t know the full extent of the station’s armament.

  “Get those ships organized,” he told his staff. “We need clear fields of fire and proper grouping. Inform them that we have fighter support and get them aligned in a defensive grid. Angle their shields, block firing lines with their hulls…standard drill, but make sure they understand before they get here and assign them positions. Get to it, we don’t have a lot of time before they’re on our doorstep.”

  Orion punched the resume on the Hycre transmission. “We have the fleet pulling back to us. Retreat before you’re destroyed. I need your ship alive and fighting in this battle. Without it I have no means of flanking the enemy. Pull back now.”

  WE MUST KEEP THE ENEMY DIVIDED. WE WILL BUY YOU TIME. FIGHT WELL AND SURVIVE. TELL THE OTHERS WHAT HAS HAPPENED HERE.

  Orion wanted to swear, but as usual he kept a lid on his visible emotions. He knew what the Hycre were doing and the stupid Nestafar were falling for it, but the destroyer wasn’t likely to survive against that many ships using blunt force distraction tactics.

  The first of the retreating ships arrived at the seda, an Irondel transport, and tucked itself in alongside the grid of Star Force ships behind the station as instructed. The Canderian remote-controlled starfighters flew around it protectively as more and more of them emerged from the seda’s hangar bays, ready to engage the Nestafar fighters and pick on any warship that got too close to their flock, all of which were pumping out as much energy as possible into their shields. The Star Force transports were actually stacked up in pairs, with each interlocking their shield matrixes to provide additional support by giving them less surface area to protect…an ability that Paul had insisted in installing in all ‘unarmed’ cargo ships.

  They did have a few defensive weapons Orion knew, but nothing that would let them contend with the warships coming their way. The allied transports he suspected had none, and was tagging and treating them accordingly.

  The incoming allied warships were another matter. Several Protovic vessels were on the way, as were a host of the Calavari’s smaller and almost useless navy. Their strength lay in their fighters, and several of the incoming ships were in fact carriers, but up against so many guns on the Nestafar fleet he doubted that fighters alone could do the job, unless they had some extremely badass missiles loaded onto them…which some of the Canderian fighte
rs did.

  “Bring all weapons to bear,” he ordered. “Begin battle spin.”

  All over the smooth green armored hull of the station small nodules rose up and split apart, exposing recessed components that were mechanically raised to the surface, most of which were weapons batteries, but several along the equator of the station were engine banks that tipped perpendicular and began to fire off a long stream of thrust.

  Very slowly the station began to spin, at first just a few centimeters per second as the mass of metal was nudged out of its orbital lock with the planet, then a few more and a few more until the rotation reached 5 meters per second, after which the engines cut off and retracted back into the station. The two chunks of armor on either side of each of them slid back together and depressed into the hull, reforming the smooth outline and protecting the engines for use later if need be.

  With the station spinning slowly it would be impossible for the enemy to create a permanent blind spot if they were able to knock out the weapons on one side of the seda, for eventually others would rotate around into firing range. It was true that an attacking fleet could fly with the turn of the station to stay in a blind spot, but it was yet one more advantage that the Canderians had employed into their standard battle procedures and would put the impetus on the enemy for navigational corrections.

  “Standby cleansing beams. Rail gun status?”

  “Magazines are full, loading tubes now.”

  Orion nodded, knowing it would take some time to get the guns up and running. Once the automation was kicked into action the 8 rail guns space around the hull could each spit out a slug once per second, given that each battery had 6 barrels. Still, the greatest distance weapon they possessed were the heavy lachars and cleansing beams, though the CBs made the lachars look like pea shooters in comparison.

  “All rail guns report ready,” one of the bridge crew noted as more ships began to arrive at the seda and take up parking positions behind it. The station wasn’t big enough to shield them from attack, nor were they close enough to it to do so, but the point was to get them out of the free fire zone but close enough that the Nestafar would have to choose between shooting the transports or shooting the seda, and if they chose the transports the Canderians were going to make them pay a high price for it.

  If the ships panicked and ran then the enemy could track them down and kill them outside of the Canderians’ firing range, which is why it was important for them to hold position, as maddening as that sounded may have sounded to their crews.

  The last of the fleeing ships weren’t clear of the Nestafar, all of which were warships from 7 different races executing a fighting retreat to the seda, meaning the Canderian gunners were going to have to make precise shots in order to avoid hitting friendly targets if they opened up at maximum range.

  The Legat watched as the battling ships crossed into what was marked as the outer firing boundary for the cleansing beam but he didn’t issue the order to fire. He was going to give his men a little bit more leeway, just to make sure they hit their marks. As he patiently counted down the distance to the line he was mentally drawing across the hologram he began whispering to himself so low that no one else could hear.

  “Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station,” he said, ironically quoting Star Wars before he raised his voice back up to normal level. “Tag priority targets. Cleansing beams fire at will.”

  Due to the rotation of the seda and the angle from which the ships were approaching by only 3 of the 6 cleansing beams had firing lines on the enemy, with the polar battery getting the first strike in. The powerful weapon struck a bolt of glowing white energy straight out into the distance where it all but disappeared from view before impacting a Nestafar destroyer exchanging fire with three fat Fanset corvettes. The beam passed right through the Nestafar’s physical shields and cut into its hull, digging a deep furrow across the surface until it abated.

  Three seconds later an internal explosion ripped apart the destroyer along the front edge between the ‘wings.’ All weaponsfire from it ceased just before a second cleansing beam hit it aft of the first that clipped an engine fuel line and detonated the drive, blowing out the aft section and leaving the large wings barely connected by what was left of the hull in the middle.

  Orion’s fist slowly clenched in a mild celebration, but that was as far as his outward display of emotions would go. His eyes followed the battle hologram intently while his bridge staff organized the defensive effort and his gunners located around the station chose their own targets. The bridge had a command nexus should he have chosen to use it, but the Legat had always preferred watching the battle unfold and interjecting only when necessary. His men had been well trained and knew how to handle the seda’s weapons.

  The third cleansing beam hit a larger cruiser, slicing into its port wing but causing no secondary explosions…though before it abated it did pass all the way through and exited out the far side.

  As soon as both of those ships were hit the disposition of the Nestafar fleet changed. Those trying to poach the fleeing transports broke off and began forming up with the others while the large mass back towards the floating rubble of the Calavari stations started to move up towards them as well.

  “That’s right, come and get it,” Orion whispered again as his seda’s cleansing beams continued to slice up the cruiser until it blew apart from the wing and went careening around from the excess momentum unpowered, nearly colliding with a corvette that thrust out of the way just in time. “Are the shields synced?”

  “All battle systems are go, Legat. Just give the word.”

  “Tag the battleship,” he said, standing up and taking a half step closer to the hologram. “Give me one rail gun battery. Let’s see how our range is.”

  On the surface of the spherical seda there were 8 additional domes, not complete hemispheres but still significant enough to stand out on the surface. All were coated with double thick armor plating but the curve on the surface didn’t end there, rather it continued all the way around through the interior of the station, forming a ball/socket rotational battery that held a linear rail gun cluster inside.

  The sphere with the best firing line to the enemy fleet visible rotated against the hull, aiming its small pit of an eye precisely, computer compensating for the battle spin, then it spat out a metallic projectile the size of a bus at a blurry speed. The projectile was tracked on the bridge hologram where it neared the battleship…and passed it by.

  “Give it another try.”

  “Sir, that was a hit. The projectile passed clean through.”

  Orion raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “Relaying telemetry from the battery,” he said, bringing up a side hologram. It showed a telescopic view of the enemy ship with a gaping hole torn through its thick starboard wing.

  “Hit it again.”

  The Canderian relayed the firing order to the gunner, who still had the battery trained on the target waiting for the go ahead. She was about to release another slug when the aspect trajectory began to change…meaning the target wasn’t going to be where it was a few seconds from now when the slug arrived. The battleship was moving off and accelerating at a rate that the computer couldn’t entirely predict, giving the gunner a wide area of space to shoot at in the hopes of getting in a lucky shot.

  She opted to hold her fire to wait for a better opportunity but one didn’t come. The target swung wide on an erratic arc, possibly realizing that it was hit with a projectile weapon and as such it would be more difficult to target. The battleship shrunk on her viewer down past what was even considered extremely lucky range, so she never fired off another shot.

  “Target out of range,” she reported, then zoomed back out keeping an eye on other targets. As she waited and watched the Nestafar warships turned off, allowing the remaining allied vessels to reach safety, including several that were limping along behind the pack.

  The bulk of the enemy fleet,
however, was still on approach, with the forward elements merely circling around out of range and waiting for them to join up, now that they knew the Human station was not a soft target.

  3

  With the cleansing beams firing off white streaks and the all but invisible rail gun rounds pounding the approaching Nestafar fleet, half their ships opened up with missile fire, sending firefly-like glowing green streaks spiraling in towards the seda along with a few heading to the flanking warships. The missiles didn’t fly a straight line as most things in space did, but rather corkscrewed around a linear trajectory in a way that made Legat Orion wonder what the purpose was and why they would waste space on the missiles for the extra maneuvering capability.

  He got his answer a few moments later as the missiles heading for the warships abruptly turned and passed by the first few, zigzagging between the defensive fleet until they found the targets they wanted…all Calavari ships. Some of the fireflies went down to anti-air fire while the rest impacted the warships’ shields, sucking large chunks of energy out of them but with none of their destructive force getting through to the hulls.

  The bulk of the missiles that were headed for the seda never got through as anti-missile lachar batteries opened up what looked like a shooting gallery and sniped the fireflies before they could hit the shield. Those handful that did get through were stopped short by the protective energy barrier, then the Nestafar fleet entered plasma range.

  Red globs shot out from all their ships, raining down on the battle station looking like elongated teardrops. The shields held up against the torrent briefly, then began falling in sections where the incoming fire was the strongest. The weapons batteries exposed beneath them had secondary shields covering them while the armored hull began to explosively soak up the excess damage.