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First Contact; Chapter 5: War in Space
Posted By: retsamolah<samesdios@yahoo.com>
Date: 16 August 2003, 9:56 PM
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Harvest System, January 9, 2520
The planet Harvest, or what remained of it, drifted lifelessly through space. The glassy, black mass shone dully in the light of its sun, but lacked the blue green glow that characterized all planets able to support human life. It was a saddening sight to the eyes of Vice Admiral Preston Cole of the UNSC Navy. He could not physically see the planet, but the picture on his holographic display was sharp enough to show the commander the absolute destruction that his enemy was capable of. His Flagship and the rest of Humanity's fledgling fleet were still in slipspace, and were nearing their destination.
The nervousness that Cole felt, though he did not know it, was present in the mind of every crewman or pilot or soldier on every ship in the fleet, including squadron leader John Clark who sat in Launch Bay 7 preparing his sleek Dagger fighter for the inevitable combat to come. Clark had absolutely no idea who or what he would be fighting and that frightened him. The ace fighter pilot was a wizard in the cockpit of his revolutionary fighting machine, his own remarkable reflexes enhanced by the state of the art systems in his C742 Dagger Space Superiority Fighter, but he was more scared than ever in his life. In his career in the 117th Fighter Wing, he had fought all manner of human targets—rebels, computer simulations, even terrorists—but he had always won because of his ability to predict the enemy and counter his moves before he made them. These aliens, he thought, would fight completely differently than any other enemy he had ever faced, and that made them more dangerous to him than anything else he could think of.
The loudspeaker in the hangar bay crackled to life and Clark raised his head to listen: "UNSC Fleet, this is Vice Admiral Cole speaking. We are nearing our destination, and we have no way of knowing what will be there. I want to bring the whole fleet up to combat alert Alpha. All Daggers and Longswords must be ready to launch immediately, and load the Super MACs and Archer Missile pods. You will all receive your tactical briefings immediately before we exit slipspace. ETA is 30 minutes; you should be briefed at about T-minus 10 minutes. Cole Out."
What the Vice Admiral had said, was pure military, but Clark recognized the tension in his voice. He must be scared as hell, he thought. Well so are the rest of us, and he closed the weapons magazine on his fighters hull after making sure the 10 Sparrow missiles were locked into position correctly. He pressed the button to seal all panels and move his fighter back to the hanging rack on the hangar wall. From there it could be launched into space within 20 seconds of the order, if he was on alert. He moved to the pilot briefing room immediately, finding most of his pilots there early as well. All looked as sickly nervous as Clark did.
Also in the slip stream, 20 Covenant ships lurked silently, awaiting the inevitable arrival of the Human fleet.
Bridge of the UNSC Flagship Atlas, January 9, 2520
Cole gathered his composure as he prepared to speak to the fleet again. They were 5 minutes out, and the ship was fully alert. Alarm lights blinked red on the bridge ceiling and crewmen were tense as they moved from station to station preparing the ship for combat.
"We are almost there," said Briseis, his AI. "You should tell them."
"I know," said Cole wearily, and he picked up the microphone. "UNSC Fleet," he began. "This is Vice Admiral Cole. We are about to exit the slipstream. All hands to battle stations immediately. As soon as we emerge into normal space, I want a spread formation, with all weapons armed and our fighters ready to launch. Cole Out." The Vice Admiral looked at the blue glowing eyes of his AI's image, and shook his head sadly. "Exit slipspace on my mark," he said. "3, 2, 1, Mark."
The blackness thought the bridge windows glowed suddenly a bright green, and with a flash, the stars and planets of normal space came into view. There was the blackened sphere of Harvest, hanging over them like some deathly sign of God. The 59 other ships of the fleet, 20 frigates, 15 destroyers, 10 Cruisers, 9 Carriers were spread out below him, already maneuvering for position. His own Heavy Assault Carrier, the pride of the UNSC Navy was above and slightly behind the other ships which spread out around him. He checked his sensors. They showed nothing but the empty void of space and the signatures of his own ships. There was a deathly silence on the bridge. Cole had no idea what to do.
After what seemed like an eternity, Briseis spoke, the urgency in her voice shocking the bridge crew into action. "Sir, sensors detect several large objects about to exit the slipstream about 4000 miles off our bow. This can only be the Covenant, Sir." The Vice Admiral swallowed nervously, picked up the microphone, and spoke in a clear, hard voice.
"I want basic firing solutions for the super MACs on those coordinates, and have all Daggers and Longswords ready to launch on my command. Everything should be on full combat alert. Our enemies are about to appear."
Outside the ship, a huge green bubble seemed to fade into view above the dead planet Harvest. It quickly split into 20 smaller shapes, which quickly dissolved into sleek silver shapes of the Covenant war ships. They surged forward almost immediately, having emerged too far from the Humans to engage them directly.
"Set the solution and fire on the largest ships first. Frigates move forward and begin engaging them directly using your Archer missiles. Super MACs reload immediately and continue the barrage," directed Cole immediately through the microphone. There were several resounding thumps which reverberated thought the whole ship, and the Vice Admiral watched the shining MAC shells steak through space, trailing their characteristic tails of silver light. The lead Covenant ship didn't have a chance. 30 heavy MAC rounds impacted it just behind the nose. Its shields flashed, but did nothing to stop most of the rounds from punching right through the armor, slicing through the reactor, and immediately compromising the ship. Atmosphere vented out through the massive hole in a torrent, spinning the ship around crazily. A smaller Alien craft had to dodge sharply to avoid a collision with the destroyed cruiser.
Cole was heartened by the sight, but moved quickly back to combat alertness as the Covenant moved into range and began firing directly at the human ships. Heavy blue beams of plasma streaked through the void, striking one of the Frigates that had just begun launching its missiles. The ship literally disintegrated before Cole's eyes. The 20 missiles it launched punched through the shields of one of the Covenant, but did no damage. "Evasive Action!" he shouted, hoping to conserve his ships. He had a 3:1 numerical advantage, and knew he should win, but was still deathly afraid of the onrushing Covenant.
Launch Bay 7, UNSC Flagship Atlas, January 9, 2520
John Clark had just climbed into the Cockpit of his Dagger when he felt the ship shake again with the second MAC launch. He had no idea how the battle was going, but was ready to give his life, if need be, to save his fleet. The cockpit canopy closed with a hiss, and he shifted into onboard atmosphere. He fitted the helmet to his head, and ignited the fighter's engines. He ran all preflight tests, making sure the rotating panels, similar to those on the Pelican Dropship, on which the Vector Thrust engines, forward swept wings, and missile pods were located. The ability to angle his thrust in any direction gave the Dagger unheard of maneuverability, but if one of them failed, his fighter was virtually destroyed.
His instruments showed everything working properly. He gripped his control column in readiness, and looked up to the large light above the huge hangar bay door. When it turned green, the door would open to the vacuum, and his squadron could fly out. He always felt like a race car driver when this happened, feeling his nerves tense up as the countdown began. All personnel had left the bridge, and he was free to go.
The light blinked green and the massive doors opened with a hiss. His twelve fighter squadron all fired their engines in unison, jettisoning out of the hangar at close to Mach 15. Clark was forced back into his seat from the acceleration, but quickly recovered and activated his COM. "117th, 7th squadron, form up in our wedge formation, we have orders to engage enemy fighters, and if possible take out the smaller capital ships." He heard all his squadron members acknowledge his orders, and move close together into the bullet shaped formation which angled up towards the flashes of combat above.
Clark's instruments showed 16 Covenant Capital ships remaining, each having launched 150 fighters. That was 2400 fighters to destroy. His own ships had suffered much heavier loss ratios. The scorched remains of 6 frigates drifted lifelessly through space, and 2 destroyers were also gone. He rocketed past the bridge, towards the enemy ships. Through his cockpit, he could see the clouds of enemy fighters heading towards his.
He activated his weapons system and got a radar lock immediately, and fired one of his Sparrows. The missile streaked off its rails, lancing towards a maneuvering enemy fighter. A split second later, the purple, teardrop shaped alien exploded in a white puff of light, spraying bits of shining metal everywhere. He flew thought the explosion and held down the triggers on his twin 20mm cannons, spraying the high explosive rounds at anything in his path. Two more Covenant fighters burst apart before he broke through. "When you come out, launch 3 missiles at the Capital ship on our point, then break off for another pass," he shouted into his COM. He immediately fired his own missiles, watching 3 trails of white fire streak towards the bulbous nose of the enemy destroyer. His missiles were joined by 20 more and they impacted the ship almost exactly in unison. The Covenant ship's shields flared, deflecting the first several missiles, but the rest detonated on the ships hull, blowing a massive whole in it. Atmosphere leaked out, and a dozen nearby Covenant Fighters were ripped apart in the explosion, but the Capital ship continued on.
Clark shouted out in rage, and fired another 2 missiles at the same spot before breaking off to rejoin his squadron. On his scanner, he watched the progress of his missiles. They hit on the screen, and the massive target blinked out of existence. "Yes!" he shouted exultantly as the Covenant destroyer behind him split into two pieces and drifted lifelessly away. "Everybody check in," he said immediately through his COM, and his enthusiasm was immediately quelled as he learned that 5 of his squadron mates were lost. He shook his head sadly, then spoke again into the COM. Head for another pass through the fighters, then head back to the Atlas for reloading. His squadron and the swarm of enemy fighters tore past each other once again, Clark emptying all of his missiles and most of his cannon rounds, destroying 5 fighters on this pass. Once again, he broke through, and headed back towards his hangar.
On the bridge of the Atlas, Cole was in his element, issuing commands to every ship in the fleet, and watching with satisfaction as his orders were carried out. He looked out the windows, and saw his fighters circling and strafing in a massive dogfight with the enemy craft. Every few seconds, one of the small ships would light up in a puff of light, making the whole picture twinkle like the stars at night. At that point in the battle, Cole was sure of victory, having destroyed all but 5 of the Covenant ships. He was distressed, however by his own remaining numbers. He had lost 40 ships, all of the frigates, 10 Destroyers, 6 Cruisers, 4 Carriers, and God knows how many fighters.
One of the gunners signaled, indicating that the MACs were armed again. "Fire," Cole commanded, and watched the silver rounds rip another Covenant ship to pieces. Before his eyes, the 4 remaining enemies rotated slowly, firing off one massive barrage that ripped a cruiser into useless fragments of metal, and vanished off into slipspace, leaving the clouds of fighters still swarming. "Lets deal with these fighters, then we can go home," he said over the COM.
Through the massive hangar doors, John Clark had seen the Capital ships depart, and knew all he had to deal with were the remaining fighters. He had 10 new Sparrows loaded and his Cannon magazine was refilled. He was just waiting for his fuel tanks to be topped off, before relaunching into the massive chaotic dogfight taking place outside the ship. "Screw the formation," he said over the COM to the rest of his squadron also sitting waiting for their ships to be refueled. "Just go out and kill as many of those alien bastards as you can."
Clark watched his fuel gauge reach full, and he launched back out of the ship. Almost immediately, a Covenant fighter arched down behind him, causing the threat sensors to erupt into a cacophony of blinking lights and alarms. Acting on instinct, he snap rolled to the left, as hard as he could, dodging the plasma torpedoes that streaked through the space his fighter had just occupied. The fighter was still on his tail, so he accelerated hard, jammed sideways on the control column, causing the wings to rotate in opposite directions, twisting the fighter around. He felt his craft spin a full 180 degrees in a split second and continue moving the other way with almost no loss of speed. The Covenant fighter swerved violently to avoid a collision, and Clark pumped its glowing engines full of 20mm cannon rounds.
He rocketed thought the explosion, quickly closing the gap on another enemy. He fired a missile as soon as he got a lock, and watched the Alien ship burst apart. Another enemy darted right in front of his nose, followed closely by a missile from another fighter. Only instincts saved his life, as he nosed his fighter down hard, narrowly dodging the fireball that had been an enemy ship only a split second before.
His sensors showed only one enemy craft left in the area. He looked around, and there it was; about 10 miles off the nose of his craft, streaking away from the battle. "I got him," he said into the COM, and shoved the throttle forward. The Dagger closed the gap in seconds, and he fired all his missiles as well as his cannon at the same time. The alien craft didn't have a chance. It exploded instantly in a spectacular cloud of fire and light, illuminating all the human craft in the area. With the cheers of his Squadron mates ringing in his headphones, Clark spiraled through the wreckage and back to rejoin his ships.
Vice Admiral Cole stood on the bridge feeling intense relief. Two hours and 21 minutes after the Covenant had first emerged from Slipspace, the battle was over. Despite heavy losses, the humans had won. Cole was filled with hope that perhaps the Human race would be free of the Covenant forever. He was, of course, mistaken.
Note: Chapter 4 of this series was much weaker than this one, having been written when i was dead tired and rushed to finish. This one, i feel, is much stronger, and hopefully you like it. My description of space combat is based alot on Steele's various fanfics, and id like to thank him for some of the inspiration.
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