The Slaver Wars: Galactic Conflict (39 page)

“This will be
a powerful attack,” Trion uttered as his cold, dark eyes turned toward the
tactical display. “We shall overwhelm our enemies and bring much honor to our
warriors.”

“Even so, I
fear many of our warriors will find their final honor in this battle,” added Versith,
knowing that large numbers of Hocklyn ships and warriors were going to die. The
Humans and their allies would not go easily.

Trion felt
confident. Fleet Commodore Versith had worked closely with Fleet Commodore
Resmunt planning this attack. Versith was a brilliant tactician and Trion
couldn’t see the attack failing. They had two thousand Hocklyn warships plus
the Borzon and the AIs. Never had a more powerful fleet been gathered in the
long history of the Empire.

Versith gazed
across the War Room. He could sense the growing anticipation for battle in his
warriors. He looked back at the main viewscreen, showing one of the Alton ships in the Human formation. He knew there was nothing ever certain in war.

Second Leader
Jaseth felt a hot rush of blood in his veins as he prepared his weapons. He'd
long waited for this battle. The Humans would soon die in the thousands along
with their allies. His burning thirst for revenge would at last be partially
quenched. The Viden had a full load out of the AI’s powerful sublight
antimatter missiles and Jaseth planned on making the Humans pay dearly for his
family’s loss of honor.

“Move us into
the gravity well,” ordered Fleet Commodore Versith as he stood upon the command
pedestal. “Launch the war wings.”

-

Hedon gazed
impassively at the large viewscreens displaying various enemy ships. What
concerned him most were the Borzon and their nearly one thousand
battlecruisers. This would be a battle of attrition, particularly once Admiral
Sheen and Admiral Strong arrived with their fleets. Looking over at Janice,
Hedon just hoped that would be enough along with the new weapons.

“Hocklyns are
launching their fighters,” Colonel Grissim reported from where she was standing
next to one of the sensor displays. Anne knew their own fighters would be
heavily outnumbered.

“As I
expected,” responded Hedon, folding his arms across his chest. “All Federation
ships are to launch their fighters except for the battlecarriers. Theirs will
be used to cover the bombers on their attack runs. Inform Grayseth he is to
hold his fighters back for now. They'll go in with their bombers and small
warships.”

Hedon leaned
back and let out a long, deep breath. “Move us toward the enemy at ten percent
sublight. That'll give us some additional maneuvering room.”

“Passing the
order to all ships,” Colonel Trist replied. Then, looking at one of the
tactical displays and its myriad of red threat icons, he added once again,
“This is going to be one hell of a battle!”

The Hocklyn
fleet entered the gravity well of Careth with determination, intent on finally annihilating
the Human ships that were waiting for them. There would be no retreat this
time. Thousands of fighters were launching and taking up defensive positions in
front of and around the fleet. The war wings continued to launch, filling open
space with their small, sleek, deadly forms. Half the fighters were armed to
take on their Human counterparts, the rest were armed with small high explosive
missiles as well as tactical nuclear warheads to use against the Human warships.

The Borzon
followed closely behind the Hocklyns. With nine hundred and seventy
battlecruiser sized ships, the commanding Fleet Leader was confident the Humans
could easily be defeated. Once their home worlds were reduced to rubble, he
would return home to the Borzon Empire with higher standings. Perhaps he would
even be allowed to mate with a queen.

The AIs began
moving their ships into the Hocklyn and Borzon fleet formations. Their shields
were at their highest level and weapons were ready. Each AI sphere had extra
antimatter missiles to use against the Altons. They had strict orders from AI
Command at the galactic center that there would be no withdrawals from this
battle. Careth and its defenders had to be annihilated.

-

“Our fighters
are going to be heavily outnumbered,” Colonel Trist reported as he gazed with
worry at the tactical display nearest him. “There are over thirteen thousand Hocklyn
fighters in that formation. We have a little over nine hundred unless we order
the carriers to launch.”

“Sensors
indicate some of those fighters are carrying missiles with tactical nuclear
warheads,” warned Captain Reynolds from his sensor console where a red warning
light was flashing, indicating nuclear ordnance had been detected.

“Damn,” Hedon
muttered, not pleased to hear that. In the past, the Hocklyn fighters had only
been armed with high explosive missiles. Turning to Colonel Trist, he passed on
a new order. “Contact the carriers and have them launch all of their fighters
except one squadron each. That one squadron is to be kept back to help protect
the bombers on their bombing runs.”

“That will
give us two thousand more fighters,” spoke Colonel Grissim, grim faced, knowing
a lot of pilots wouldn't be coming back to the flight bays. “We’re still going
to be outnumbered five to one.”

“We’re always
outnumbered,” replied Hedon gravely, wishing things were different.

“We could send
the bear fighters in,” Anne suggested. She knew the bears had over one thousand
fighters at their disposal. “It would help even up the odds some.”

“No,” responded
Hedon, shaking is head. He knew Colonel Grissim was trying to keep the pilots
alive as long as possible. “We need to save them to go in with the bear bomber strike.
If we’re going to win this battle, the bomber strikes have to be successful.”

“That’s a lot
of Hocklyn fighters to send the bombers through even with fighter support,”
spoke Colonel Trist. “If all of those Hocklyn ships have been updated, the
bomber strikes might not be as successful as we’re hoping.”

“It’s a risk
we have to take,” replied Hedon, knowing Trist was right.

“Ten minutes
to optimum firing range,” reported Major Weir at tactical.

“Fighters are
beginning to launch from the carriers,” added Colonel Trist, turning to face
Hedon. “They’re not going to last long if the Hocklyns decide to make a fight
out of it.”

“They have a
job to do,” Hedon replied, his eyes never wavering. “They’re Federation pilots
and they know what’s expected of them.”

-

Major Galvin
Brice looked out the cockpit window of his Talon fighter. Everywhere he looked,
he could see other fighters forming up into their squadrons. He glanced down at
his sensor screen and felt a brief moment of panic. He'd never seen so many red
threat icons before; the screen seemed to be a solid mass of red. He fought to
control his breathing even as his pulse raced. Human fighters were better that
Hocklyns fighters and had better weapons, but these were impossible odds! He
wondered how many members of his squadrons wouldn't be returning to the
carrier. He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. After a moment, he
opened them and knew he needed to speak to his pilots.

“All fighters
form up and proceed on intercept course,” he ordered, trying to sound calm and
confident to his six squadrons from the carrier Essex. “All carrier groups will
be going in together. We have four Hunter interceptors on our wings. I want two
fired as soon as we are in range to help even up the odds. We’re going to hit
the edges of the enemy fighter formation. That will help to even up the odds. Stay
away from the center; there’re just too many of them.”

“They’re so
thick we can close our eyes and fire our guns and probably hit a target,” one
of the younger pilots spoke sounding nervous.

“You’re aims
no good anyway,” another replied with a laugh. “Look at it on the bright side;
we’re all going to become aces today.”

The two large
groups of fighters continued to close. At the last minute, the Human fighters
broke into two distinct groups and accelerated rapidly toward the wings of the
Hocklyn formation.

“Fire
missiles!” ordered Major Brice, pressing the missile release button on his
small control console. Instantly, a two-meter Hunter interceptor dropped loose
from his starboard wing, igniting and arrowing away toward its Hocklyn target.
A bright burst of light indicated it had hit its mark. Hundreds of other
missiles were being fired from the Human fighters at the densely packed Hocklyn
war wings; very few were missing. Fiery fireballs rolled across the Hocklyn
formation, indicating dying fighters.

“Vampire,
vampire!” screamed one of the pilots in the squadrons as numerous Hocklyn
interceptors launched at the inbound Human fighters.

“Break!” ordered
Brice, tersely. “Stay with your wingman and engage. Don’t get too far away from
your squadron and don’t take unnecessary risks. Return to the carriers to rearm
when your ammo starts to run low.”

Brice winced
as a sudden fireball engulfed a nearby Talon fighter, annihilating it. He could
see other fireballs rolling across the Human fighter formations as Hocklyn missiles
found their wildly dodging targets. On both sides, fighters were being blown
away in brilliant bursts of light. Dropping in behind a Hocklyn fighter, he
pressed the button on his flight control and twin lines of bright, 30mm tracers
reached out and struck the Hocklyn in its engine. The small fighter exploded and
Brice automatically ducked as several small pieces struck his cockpit window.
Letting out a deep breath, he pressed his flight control forward, forcing his
fighter to angle down at a steep angle. Glancing outside, he saw his wingman
was still hanging close. “All fighters engage targets of opportunity.”

A massive swirling
dogfight was growing between the two fleets. The Human fighters were faster and
more agile, but the Hocklyn had the numbers. Human fighter after Human fighter
died as they fell before the massed Hocklyn fighter formation.

-

“We’re losing
a lot of fighters,” Colonel Trist reported brusquely as more green fighter
icons vanished from the tactical display. “We can’t sustain these types of
losses for long.”

“I have an FTL
message from Admiral Sheen,” Janice reported from Communications.

Hedon nodded;
he'd been waiting for this message. “Tell Admiral Sheen to jump immediately and
exit hyperspace behind the Hocklyn and Borzon fleet formation. Their exit point
should be one million kilometers outside the gravity well. I will contact them
again once they exit hyperspace.”

“Yes, Sir,”
Janice replied as she quickly sent the FTL message to Admiral Sheen.

“That’s still
another hour,” Colonel Grissim pointed out. “We could lose a lot of ships in
that time. We may not have any fighters left at all.”

“I know,” responded
Hedon, letting out a sharp breath. “We'll engage the enemy fleet, and then
began a slow withdrawal back toward Careth where we can use the firepower from
the orbital defenses as well as the space station and the shipyard. I want the Hocklyns
and the Borzon trapped in the gravity well when Admiral Sheen arrives.”

“Nearing
engagement range,” Major Weir reported from Tactical. “Weapons are locking on
enemy targets.”

“Fighters are
beginning to move out of the way,” announced Captain Reynolds, seeing the fighters
on both sides moving from between the two fleets so as to avoid the ordnance
that would soon be prevalent between the two.

Hedon looked
at his fleet disposition. Both First Fleet and Ceres Fleet had joined into one
massive formation of warships. He had the StarStrike, which was the only
battleship in the system, twenty-one battlecarriers, twenty-seven
battlecruisers, thirty-two strikecruisers, thirty Monarch cruisers, eighty
light cruisers, and thirty Alton battlecruisers. He wondered how many of those
ships, if any, would be left after this battle. The important thing was that
Careth itself survived.

“Engagement
range!” Major Weir called out.

“Fire all
weapons!” Hedon ordered over his mini-com to all the ships in the fleet. “Maneuver
six, ten percent sublight, now!”

Instantly the
StarStrike and all other ships in the fleet turned to starboard to hit one side
of the enemy fleet formation.

“Admiral
Bixby,” Hedon spoke over his mini-com to the recently promoted admiral on the
battlecarrier Essex, who was in charge of all fleet fighter and bomber
operations. “Launch your bomber strike.”

“Flight bays
will be clear in five minutes,” Bixby replied.

Hedon leaned
back and let out a deep breath. It was dangerous sending the bombers in this
early, but he had to slow down the enemy fleets. Bixby would be launching over
sixteen hundred Anlon bombers, each armed with four nuclear tipped Shrike
missiles. They would have four hundred fighters as escorts.

“Enemy
fighters are coming in on their attack runs,” Captain Reynolds warned as
thousands of red icons began accelerating toward the Human fleets.

Hedon nodded.
He knew the fleets’ Hunter missiles and defensive laser turrets would make it
difficult for the enemy to reach their targets. The more powerful energy
shields should also protect them from the missiles the fighters were carrying.
The only problem was there were so many of them.

-

From the
Federation capital ships, hundreds of sublight antimatter missiles with
100-megaton yields vanished from their launch tubes as they launched toward
their targets. From the Monarchs and light cruisers, hundreds of Devastator
Threes erupted from their launch tubes as they accelerated toward their targets
in the enemy fleet. Power beams began to flash as well as powerful pulse
lasers. Hunter missiles launched toward the inbound fighter strike and
defensive laser fire began to reach out destroying additional inbound targets.