Almada System (Sector 71-29)
April 1st 2244
‘Zero Alpha this is Bravo Zero Alpha-Dread Lord Ground attack vehicles disabled Sir-casualties light-out.’
I had nodded in satisfaction. It had taken us seven long months to fight our way here but my emotions were mixed as I listened to the reports coming back from the two thousand Marine Battalions that we had unleashed upon the home planet of the Dread Lords. The 3D Holo Tactical board was zoomed into various locations planet-side and depicted with startling computer accuracy the unfolding battles taking place on the surface. The set of my staff’s faces were hard, grim and resolute-we were now in the end game.
We had set our course for Almada in July 2243, Task Force 910 leading, 970 right behind it and then our own ship flanked by our Transport Task Force 751. Ranging ahead of us was a Squadron of Medium Scouts led by the Legendary Recce Commander Colonel George Jones. Jones was much decorated and had won a Duranthium Cross five years previously for putting his Scout in the line of fire of a pair of Dread Lord Frigates engaged in attacking a Starbase off Grizzly III. The most skilful flying and nerves of steel had distracted the Dreads for long enough to effect a partial evacuation of the Starbase-1090 staff and crew had died nonetheless but twice that number had been saved by his selflessness.
For weeks we crossed the vast expanse of uncharted space: our course North by North East and always we moved ever closer to our quarry. Then in early September contact our scout screen sighted the first of the enemy Frigates pairs. I had been catching some much needed sleep when I was hailed in my Ready Room-I knew that it had to be urgent as my orders were not to be disturbed.
‘Contact Sir! Colonel Jones reports first pair of Frigates spotted-he’s monitoring at extreme sensor range.’ This from my breathless orderly-he was a 19 year old lad and plainly excited at his first Naval assignment.
‘I will be there presently Seaman Miskov’
‘Aye Sir’
In the Situation Room all was frenetic activity as the Staff Officers set and reset the tracking computers, which were being fed real-time information from our forward Recce screen. The simulators then plotted all possible permutations for the movement of and counter movement to the new threat.
I took in the disposition of the enemy and of our forces. Unfortunately the alien ships were off to our front flank rather than directly to our fore and so it would take a while to vector 910 in. I made up my mind in an instant.
‘Colonel Jones select your best Scout pilot and I don’t mean you!’ There were some chuckles at this, which were totally at odds with the seriousness of the situation.
‘I want you to get that man to tag the Dread Lords Fleet and draw them away from us-a heading of West by North west should do it.’
‘Aye General-it will be tricky-one false plot and the Dreads will be onto them. I will see to it.’
‘I know Colonel but I trust in the skills of your people-far enough west and they will hit Iconian and Torian space and their ships will aggressively defend it. Mormon Out.’
Over the next few hours Jones’s man, a pilot by the name of Goethe, carried out my orders to the letter and by the following week both scout and Dread Lords were far to our west. I reconfigured our formation moving 970 to our right flank and slightly to the rear of 910 such that we wouldn’t be caught out again.
As the weeks went by I made sure that the Ships Commanders kept their crews at the highest state of readiness demanding that they drill and drill again: gunnery, signals, manoeuvre over and over until we dreamt it in our snatched glimpses of sleep.
And as Christmas approached I had a present far better than any previous: A Flash message from Professor Sharp beamed direct to my Quarters:
‘You are well met Andy’ I had grinned ‘Tell me you have good news for me’
‘I do Mike I do. We have been working round the clock for weeks-The President has been a hard taskmaster.’
The President? I was surprised: it was unusual for the Chief Executive to directly intervene in research matters.
‘Yes the man himself-clearly he has a lot of vested interest in this mission of yours. Anyway we have finally completed our research into Invulnerability Fields-it’s the ultimate in shield technology-very powerful.’
‘Invulnerability Fields eh?’
‘Yup-we have termed them as such for good reason-they are so powerful that even Class 10 lasers can’t penetrate them.’
‘Wow. Class 10s? Ok but what class do we think the weapons that the Dread Lords use are?’
‘Well that’s the question Mike-our scientists have not been able to exactly replicate the potency of the Doom Rays-they could be as high as Class 15 on the LS Scale.’
There had been a short silence as I pondered this.
‘So whatever you give me we will still be vulnerable to an extent.’
‘That’s about the size of it my old friend but these enhancements will greatly enhance the survivability of your fleet so…’
‘You are a good man Sharpey-send us the schematics so that our engineers can get to work immediately- I gather that you’ve also drawn up some adjustments that will allow us to fit even more onto our hulls-good job.’
‘For you my friend it is always a pleasure-now go get ‘em and may providence go with you.’
As the Pan-Terran holiday season approached we were engaged in a furious race to reconfigure our Kestrel Class Battleships to the new spec. It was a race because by this time Jones and his flyers were now close enough to Almada to assess the strength of the forces in the area and those orbiting the planet. Two Frigate fleets were in close proximity to the home-planet whilst a Dread Lord Cruiser, with frightening firepower was in low orbit to the forbidding world. The scouts kept their distance-we could not afford to spook them now: it would take at least two weeks to upgrade the ships and whilst this was happening Task Force 910 was defenceless. I ordered 970 in to guard its stronger sister ships and kept Jones and his scouts on a hair trigger alert status.
Finally early in the New Year we were ready to go and just in time: suddenly the Dread Lords Frigates were on the move and were headed directly towards us! How had they located our position we all wondered? It mattered not to me-not one bit: my orders to Brigadier Perez, Commanding Task Force 910 and Brigadier Ashanti of 970, was close with the enemy and destroy it in place-our escort force and the Mayflower would follow on at a distance of 5 parsecs. These two were accomplished and able Generals and fared best when given maximum initiative. My job was to tweak here and there and react to unforeseen events and allow them to respond accordingly.
It was the Hawks of 970 that entered battle first arrowing into one of the Dread packets moving on an intercept course to us (again what was their Intel?). This wasn’t quite how I’d foreseen it but Ashanti, descendant of an ancient West African Warrior Tribe, was very eager. We watched, rapt, in the Situation Room as battle was joined. The Hawks were equipped with formidable Zero Point Armour which afforded some protection against missiles and beam weapons. We were all praying that the manoeuvre and gunnery training would pay off and that the devastating Nightmare Torpedoes that the Hawks were all carrying were as effective against our foe as they had been in testing.
The five ships fanned out in arrowhead with the Flagship TAS Superior in the lead and loosed a salvo of missiles-the range was extreme but well within the operational capability of the Torpedoes. The enemy Frigates tried to evade but the missiles were locked on and exploded, each in turn, ten such flashes lighting up the situation Board as they did their deadly work. The Dread Lords were mortally weakened but they were not destroyed and returned fire-the unearthly sound of the Doom Rays replicated with startling accuracy by the TAC Computer-there was not a one of us that didn’t shudder as we heard it. TAS Superior bore the full brunt of the assault but amazingly was not destroyed-damage reports started filtering in as the formation began changing to delta wing placing the stricken flagship to the rear-it was a deft movement but took time to effect-meanwhile a second missile volley was loosed-it took down one of the Dread Lords and by the time they were ready to respond the target had changed-TAS Superior had been replaced in line by the TAS Invincible, whose Armour was undamaged-the remaining Frigate fired scoring hits along the side armour of the Invincible-she stood resolute and unleashed a third volley of Torps, at virtual point blank range, that annihilated the last ship in a crimson glow whose simulation lit up the darkened Situation Room.
Cheering erupted across the ship and I have no doubt that it was replicated in all three of our Task Forces-history had been made: this was the first Fleet encounter with the Dread Lords where we hadn’t lost a ship- a testimony to the skill and ability of Ashanti and his crews.
‘Quiet!’ I had shouted above the din ‘Get a full damage report! Comm Patch me into the Superior!’
It had been a very successful action but the Superior was badly damaged and had still lost several hundred men and women in the attack-roughly half her compliment. The Invincible had only been lightly hit and had lost only 43 souls. Now was the chance to intervene-I ordered Perez to Guard the weaker Fleet as they progressed the final few parsecs to Almada-it was the least that could be done to reward Ashanti for his action. The Superior, meanwhile, was to stay behind and make the long journey home to Kryseth-her General transferred to the Invincible.
Perez was eager to match Ashanti’s achievements and it was no longer than a week before his own Task Force was barrelling into a second Frigate fleet-they took it down but lost their one Condor Battlecruiser, the TAS Ronald Reagan. The TAS Iwo Jima was now the lead ship of the line-a scattered one with the flagship, the TAS Brasilia, to the rear. I felt a pang of apprehension when I was made aware of the changed disposition of the Fleet-my son was now directly in the Dread Lords line of fire.
Three weeks later and our fleets were making the final approach to Almada when we received upgraded schematics from Sharpe’s people-it was irritating because it necessitated an unscheduled delay as we upgraded the Kestrels once again. Jones’s scouts were now in high orbit around the Dread Lords Planet and were tasked with keeping a watchful eye on the Cruiser far below them. Then one of his outlying ships had located yet another Frigate Fleet lurking several parsecs to our West around the Jessuin world of Jessuin II. Amazingly this minor race was untouched by the Dread Lords-how had they managed to coexist with them? Maybe the Dreads did not concern themselves with lesser civilisations? I immediately despatched a flash-sitrep to the IRM: it was a quandary for the spooks to ponder-I had a conquest to prosecute.
So April 2244 brought us to this place: all Dread Lords shipping was destroyed and our Marines were now clearing the planet; resistance was light. In the event the Cruiser had gone down with little fight and I was proud to hear that the Iwo Jima had distinguished itself in that orbital battle its own missiles doing the most damage to the massive Cruiser. It had come at a small cost-four dozen crew lost their lives on my son’s ship-my son and his missile battery were, thankfully undamaged.
Only when Marine General Osouka pronounced the planet clear did we all realise the enormity of what we had achieved. At last the shadow that had blighted our lives and infested our nightmares was no more. As my staff hugged and kissed and cried in joy I quietly slipped away to my Ready Room-I allowed myself a few tears alone and in private.
‘This victory is for you Mirathro wherever you may be-I hope you will wait for me.’
And then a knock at the door-it was Miskov
‘Sir-the President and the Council are awaiting your call’
‘Very well son-I will be there presently’
I re-entered the Situation Room-it seemed the entire ships compliment were in there-they all broke into raucous cheers and clapping on my arrival. I held my arms up for silence as I keyed the secure Mic,
‘Mr President, this is General Mormon: it is my profound pleasure to report that the Dread Lords have finally been defeated. Long live the Terran Alliance’……………..