A very nicely done bit there, displaying both a captains authority and the limits of it in a seriously dangerous situation. One does have to hope they won't be facing 12,000 battle pods. Though that does seem a bit unlikely, simply because none of these ships or fleets should be fully stocked, but then again... to the victors go the spoils and they have been possibly raiding all around for quite some time.
Venture [Robotech]
- Thread starter Blackleaf
- Start date
- Novel Sci-Fi
deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
Huh. Wasn't the Zentradi Carrier, aka the Quiltra Queleual Class, about three kilometers in length, not a single kilometer? Also, I thought the Landing Ship Configuration carried twelve thousand troops, not solely Battlepods?
- Location
- Reading, Berks, UK
Macross2.net and MAHQ agree on 3km.
RTF has 2991m and the following full male landing ship load (before normal attrition) of mecha
250 Gnerl fighters.
6 Quel Quallie EW/assault craft,
12 Lieuneuatzs shuttle craft,
24 Frandlar Tiluvo trans-orbital transports,
18 Nauglar Nodral airborne tankers,
9450 Regult infantry mecha (four versions),
2400 Nousjadeul-Ger cavalry mecha,
150 Glaug ground/air command mecha and aerospace sleds.
Paladium had it higher IIRC 40,000 mecha of which 35 thousand were Regult. 3 thousand Gnerl and less than 2 thousand Nousjadeul-Ger
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Well spotted. My citing of 1000 meters in the last post is definitely a typo, not sure how it got past me. The specifications I've been using have been from the Robotech Visual Guide, and from the unofficial Robotech Technical Files where no references were given in the book, and they both seem to agree on 3000 meters. (Does anyone know if I am right to be suspicious that most of the material on ship and mecha specifications in the visual guide books was imported wholesale from the Technical Files webpage?) You'll please forgive me for conflating the Regult and powered armor numbers. Technical discussions of ships and mecha from Robotech are red meat to me, but I also recognize that the broadcast series played fast and loose with ranks and numbers, and so I sometimes have the characters in the story do the same. We're lucky for the veterans on the show's production crew who added little notes of authenticity. I'm fixing the length of the ship, but I'm going to let the 12,000 battlepods statement stand, because I think it's very dramatic.
I love this kind of discussion. Thanks for the feedback, everyone!
- Location
- Reading, Berks, UK
I would think that Vanessa's audience would expect that she means !2,000 mecha with Officer pods and Power Armour in the usual ratios when she says 12,000 battlepods. Nousjadeul-Ger are in the same range of effectiveness as Regults.
Besides she has to know that its unlikely to have the standard mix and standard Regults are probably more easily scavenged than the varients or Power Armour.
Soujourn Chapter 10.3
"Electronic warfare craft are to be moved to Block Twelve of the Secondary Launch Bay. Pilots of squadrons VF-One-Six-Five and VF-One-Four-Seven are to proceed to their assembly areas, using the red tram line."
The Jeanne d'Arc's starboard veritech bay clamored with the preparations for combat. Vanessa walked with Jose May-Reyes, dodging heavily laden munitions carts that wove between the parked Lightnings, and toeing the yellow outlines that marked each veritech's berth. Hundreds of pilots were already on ready-launch status, formed up on the deck with their squadron leaders to receive instructions, while maintenance and launch crews climbed over the ranked war machines, securing access panels and attaching diagnostic and fluid umbilicals in a crazed serpents' nest tangle. It was hardly the best place to conduct a planning session, but Vanessa knew that her CAG had no time to retreat to a briefing room if he wanted to have every last mecha possible ready for the upcoming battle.
"How many Lightnings do we have active, Commander?" Vanessa asked.
"Crew Chief!" Reyes yelled, and a chief petty officer wearing green overalls and a reflective orange vest hurried over. "The latest chart, please," Reyes demanded, holding out a hand, already covered by his flight-suit's glove.
"Here, sir!"
Reyes took the data tablet from his subordinate and tabbed through the screen until he reached the correct status display, scrolling through scores of green, yellow, and red veritech icons.
"This is no good," he said, handing the tablet back. "I need to find out what's going on with the maintenance crews over at Berth Seventeen."
He took off at a jog, and Vanessa followed. "Reyes! The Lightnings?"
"They'll be ready," he insisted, not slowing. Vanessa scowled, wanting facts, not assurances. Reyes's easygoing attitude could be endearing, but right now she found it obnoxious. She sped up, hopping over a black umbilical line bigger around than the crew chief's hulking biceps and grabbed Reyes in the alloy grip of her cybernetic hand, hauling him around to face her.
"Jesus, Captain!" he exclaimed, his fighter pilot's reflexes the only thing allowing him to keep his balance. Vanessa didn't let go.
"How many active, Commander?" she repeated.
"Ok, ok! You know, you could hurt somebody with that thing." She finally released him, and he rubbed at his bruised limb. She got a good look at his face, and realized how pale he was. What she saw in his eyes told her that the usual bravado was all for show. He's scared. As scared as I am. We need the time we've been given to prepare, but it also gives us time to think about how bad our situation is.
"You're well aware we're facing poor odds Commander, and I need to know just how poor they are," she said, speaking more evenly now. Reyes swallowed and nodded, letting go of his arm and composing himself.
"Sorry. I get it. Seven-hundred fifty-four."
"That's all? A quarter of our fighters are unready?"
"I'll have another hundred ready for launch by the time we defold, I swear!"
Vanessa folded her arms. "It's the transformation equipment, isn't it. Still." Vanessa had personally witnessed a malfunction of the Lightning's transformation from guardian to battloid mode almost kill Reyes during one of the original test flights. Under the watchful gaze of Admiral Hunter, the fatal errors had been corrected, but the production model of the Lightning remained prone to breakdown and painfully long maintenance cycles. The timing couldn't be worse. "Why couldn't we have been chosen to test the roll-out of the Legios program?" she lamented.
"Ah, come on, Captain!" Reyes protested, sounding wounded. "The Legios is a missile-pig. It hasn't got the staying power or the speed of a Lightning."
"Only when a Lightning is capable of flying at all."
"I'm on my way to deal with that. I'll talk to the maintenance crews. You'll have your fighters," he promised as they continued walking through the open air maze of mecha, munitions carts, passenger trams, and flight crews.
"I need them all, Commander. Admiral Mbande isn't calling off the attack, and I don't want her to. But that means I'm going to have to ask a lot of you and your pilots. We can't trade blow for blow with the Zentraedi capital ships."
"I know. But seven-hundred fifty, or a thousand, my attack wing can't take on that many ships and mecha head-on and expect to win."
"But you've planned for this," Vanessa said, keeping her gaze ahead of her. Reyes turned his head, raising an eyebrow.
"I know you have," Vanessa went on. "After figuring out a way to cripple a command ship with just one squadron of veritechs, there's no way you'd stop considering other scenarios. You've had years to prepare."
Though charming and well liked by all, Reyes didn't have the natural command presence of someone like Rick Hunter, and while a talented flier, he would never reach the lofty heights of Max or Miriya Sterling, and be recognized as an ace-of-aces. But Reyes was a planner, constantly testing new tactics and formations. He was popular with his flight crews, who put up with his incessant demands for more training and drills. Vanessa knew he was too meticulous not to have prepared for a situation where they were this badly outnumbered, whatever the assurances of headquarters and the REF mission planning staff. Reyes nodded, all attempts at humor gone.
"Alright. I have planned for something like this," he admitted, wiping a bead of sweat from his upper lip with the back of his glove. "No offense, the Jeanne d'Arc is a fine carrier, but it's no battlefortress." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "I don't have any fancy tactics that will let us beat that many ships and battlepods, not without cutting their numbers significantly. If we're to have any chance of winning, we'll need-"
"Reflex weaponry," Vanessa finished, and he nodded soberly. She had feared that would be his answer. She felt a bitter, metallic tang in the back of her mouth at simply speaking the words. The old SDF-1's Reflex cannon had vaporized dozens of Zentraedi warships, thousands of battlepods. But Vanessa hadn't appreciated the true horror of Reflex weapons until the Rain of Death, when she witnessed thousands of Dolza's gunships systematically denude the Earth's surface of life. A short time later, the SDF-1 unleashed its own arsenal of Reflex warheads inside Dolza's command center, destroying it and killing billions of Zentraedi in the resulting explosion. Vanessa herself had provided the targeting data for the strike, a fact she tried to avoid thinking too much about. Three years later, she almost died in a Reflex missile attack by the rogue state of York. The decision to employ Reflex weapons could only be a dire portent for her. But she saw no other options, if they were to have any chance.
"Admiral Mbande authorized the use of Reflex warheads when I updated her on the composition of the enemy fleet. I'll order the armory to release them to your munitions officers."
"I'll make sure my best squadrons are loaded and ready to launch the moment we defold," Reyes assured her.
"You'll only have enough missiles for one full strike."
The scandal that broke when it was revealed that traitorous UN Spacy officers had provided the Reflex warheads that York fired during the Battle of Manhattan shook the United Earth Forces and United Earth Government to their foundations. The stigma surrounding Reflex weaponry that began following the Rain of Death was solidified. Within the Solar System, it took the combined agreement of the Speaker of the UEG Assembly and the head of either the UN Spacy or UN Army to permit the use of Reflex weapons. Outside the Solar System, a flag rank officer had to personally authorize the loading, arming, and firing of Reflex weapons. The munitions themselves were only available in limited numbers, and kept under heavy guard at all times.
"I'll make them count. I promise," Reyes said.
"I know you will, Commander. Believe me when I say there's no one else I'd feel better about having as CAG for this battle."
The aviator let out a short, nervous chuckle. "Finally, a story to match the old-timers from the SDF-1 air group, always going on about how outnumbered they were."
Vanessa shook her head, managing a small smile at Reyes's one-sided rivalry. "You can maybe talk once you've faced your first million ships."
"Right," he said with a sheepish grin. "Now I've got some technicians to kick in the tail, Captain."
"Dismissed, Commander." She still had more orders to give before the fold, and little time to have them carried out.
Next week… separations…
The Jeanne d'Arc's starboard veritech bay clamored with the preparations for combat. Vanessa walked with Jose May-Reyes, dodging heavily laden munitions carts that wove between the parked Lightnings, and toeing the yellow outlines that marked each veritech's berth. Hundreds of pilots were already on ready-launch status, formed up on the deck with their squadron leaders to receive instructions, while maintenance and launch crews climbed over the ranked war machines, securing access panels and attaching diagnostic and fluid umbilicals in a crazed serpents' nest tangle. It was hardly the best place to conduct a planning session, but Vanessa knew that her CAG had no time to retreat to a briefing room if he wanted to have every last mecha possible ready for the upcoming battle.
"How many Lightnings do we have active, Commander?" Vanessa asked.
"Crew Chief!" Reyes yelled, and a chief petty officer wearing green overalls and a reflective orange vest hurried over. "The latest chart, please," Reyes demanded, holding out a hand, already covered by his flight-suit's glove.
"Here, sir!"
Reyes took the data tablet from his subordinate and tabbed through the screen until he reached the correct status display, scrolling through scores of green, yellow, and red veritech icons.
"This is no good," he said, handing the tablet back. "I need to find out what's going on with the maintenance crews over at Berth Seventeen."
He took off at a jog, and Vanessa followed. "Reyes! The Lightnings?"
"They'll be ready," he insisted, not slowing. Vanessa scowled, wanting facts, not assurances. Reyes's easygoing attitude could be endearing, but right now she found it obnoxious. She sped up, hopping over a black umbilical line bigger around than the crew chief's hulking biceps and grabbed Reyes in the alloy grip of her cybernetic hand, hauling him around to face her.
"Jesus, Captain!" he exclaimed, his fighter pilot's reflexes the only thing allowing him to keep his balance. Vanessa didn't let go.
"How many active, Commander?" she repeated.
"Ok, ok! You know, you could hurt somebody with that thing." She finally released him, and he rubbed at his bruised limb. She got a good look at his face, and realized how pale he was. What she saw in his eyes told her that the usual bravado was all for show. He's scared. As scared as I am. We need the time we've been given to prepare, but it also gives us time to think about how bad our situation is.
"You're well aware we're facing poor odds Commander, and I need to know just how poor they are," she said, speaking more evenly now. Reyes swallowed and nodded, letting go of his arm and composing himself.
"Sorry. I get it. Seven-hundred fifty-four."
"That's all? A quarter of our fighters are unready?"
"I'll have another hundred ready for launch by the time we defold, I swear!"
Vanessa folded her arms. "It's the transformation equipment, isn't it. Still." Vanessa had personally witnessed a malfunction of the Lightning's transformation from guardian to battloid mode almost kill Reyes during one of the original test flights. Under the watchful gaze of Admiral Hunter, the fatal errors had been corrected, but the production model of the Lightning remained prone to breakdown and painfully long maintenance cycles. The timing couldn't be worse. "Why couldn't we have been chosen to test the roll-out of the Legios program?" she lamented.
"Ah, come on, Captain!" Reyes protested, sounding wounded. "The Legios is a missile-pig. It hasn't got the staying power or the speed of a Lightning."
"Only when a Lightning is capable of flying at all."
"I'm on my way to deal with that. I'll talk to the maintenance crews. You'll have your fighters," he promised as they continued walking through the open air maze of mecha, munitions carts, passenger trams, and flight crews.
"I need them all, Commander. Admiral Mbande isn't calling off the attack, and I don't want her to. But that means I'm going to have to ask a lot of you and your pilots. We can't trade blow for blow with the Zentraedi capital ships."
"I know. But seven-hundred fifty, or a thousand, my attack wing can't take on that many ships and mecha head-on and expect to win."
"But you've planned for this," Vanessa said, keeping her gaze ahead of her. Reyes turned his head, raising an eyebrow.
"I know you have," Vanessa went on. "After figuring out a way to cripple a command ship with just one squadron of veritechs, there's no way you'd stop considering other scenarios. You've had years to prepare."
Though charming and well liked by all, Reyes didn't have the natural command presence of someone like Rick Hunter, and while a talented flier, he would never reach the lofty heights of Max or Miriya Sterling, and be recognized as an ace-of-aces. But Reyes was a planner, constantly testing new tactics and formations. He was popular with his flight crews, who put up with his incessant demands for more training and drills. Vanessa knew he was too meticulous not to have prepared for a situation where they were this badly outnumbered, whatever the assurances of headquarters and the REF mission planning staff. Reyes nodded, all attempts at humor gone.
"Alright. I have planned for something like this," he admitted, wiping a bead of sweat from his upper lip with the back of his glove. "No offense, the Jeanne d'Arc is a fine carrier, but it's no battlefortress." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "I don't have any fancy tactics that will let us beat that many ships and battlepods, not without cutting their numbers significantly. If we're to have any chance of winning, we'll need-"
"Reflex weaponry," Vanessa finished, and he nodded soberly. She had feared that would be his answer. She felt a bitter, metallic tang in the back of her mouth at simply speaking the words. The old SDF-1's Reflex cannon had vaporized dozens of Zentraedi warships, thousands of battlepods. But Vanessa hadn't appreciated the true horror of Reflex weapons until the Rain of Death, when she witnessed thousands of Dolza's gunships systematically denude the Earth's surface of life. A short time later, the SDF-1 unleashed its own arsenal of Reflex warheads inside Dolza's command center, destroying it and killing billions of Zentraedi in the resulting explosion. Vanessa herself had provided the targeting data for the strike, a fact she tried to avoid thinking too much about. Three years later, she almost died in a Reflex missile attack by the rogue state of York. The decision to employ Reflex weapons could only be a dire portent for her. But she saw no other options, if they were to have any chance.
"Admiral Mbande authorized the use of Reflex warheads when I updated her on the composition of the enemy fleet. I'll order the armory to release them to your munitions officers."
"I'll make sure my best squadrons are loaded and ready to launch the moment we defold," Reyes assured her.
"You'll only have enough missiles for one full strike."
The scandal that broke when it was revealed that traitorous UN Spacy officers had provided the Reflex warheads that York fired during the Battle of Manhattan shook the United Earth Forces and United Earth Government to their foundations. The stigma surrounding Reflex weaponry that began following the Rain of Death was solidified. Within the Solar System, it took the combined agreement of the Speaker of the UEG Assembly and the head of either the UN Spacy or UN Army to permit the use of Reflex weapons. Outside the Solar System, a flag rank officer had to personally authorize the loading, arming, and firing of Reflex weapons. The munitions themselves were only available in limited numbers, and kept under heavy guard at all times.
"I'll make them count. I promise," Reyes said.
"I know you will, Commander. Believe me when I say there's no one else I'd feel better about having as CAG for this battle."
The aviator let out a short, nervous chuckle. "Finally, a story to match the old-timers from the SDF-1 air group, always going on about how outnumbered they were."
Vanessa shook her head, managing a small smile at Reyes's one-sided rivalry. "You can maybe talk once you've faced your first million ships."
"Right," he said with a sheepish grin. "Now I've got some technicians to kick in the tail, Captain."
"Dismissed, Commander." She still had more orders to give before the fold, and little time to have them carried out.
Next week… separations…
deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
Huh. This is a really interesting chapter. Many sci-fi writers, and many other writers outside of Scifi really, pretty much skip the whole preparing for a battle thing which is a darn shame for it does allow a general build-up of the larger story along with building up their characters as well. I especially like the whole small paragraph that reflects on Reyes not being as good as Rick or Max but still having his own niche among the famous Veritech pilots. So I really cannot wait to see what this next battle brings with our characters.
I'm very pleased to know that! I love the moments of epic action that Robotech brought us, but the themes and character development I've set myself on mean that action sequences, and more especially, battles, are relatively rare. To me, that makes it all the more important that the leadup to them not be rushed. That goes double when our characters are preparing themselves for the possibility of the first fleet vs. fleet action in the entire storyline.
Reyes has come so far from the confident, irreverent test pilot of book 2. He was originally imagined as a mirror to hold up to Rick Hunter, to show him what he imagines he has lost, in a way that a character like Jack Baker, who is introduced in The Sentinels as a talented rookie, but a novice cadet, nonetheless, just can't do. At the time, I had no idea that he would be become the leader that he is now.
Sojourn Chapter 10.4
"That will be all, Colonel." Vanessa turned on her heel and took a step toward the hovertank bay's hatch.
"No, Captain! You can't be thinking to leave me here!"
She jerked to a stop as, to her great surprise, Kaden actually reached out and took hold of her arm, just as she had Reyes's a few minutes earlier. She felt a flash of annoyance as she turned back and saw his face white with mingled outrage and worry.
"You forget yourself, Colonel," she said, glancing at his hand. He looked down and seemed to realize what he had done, in a compartment full of Marines and technicians, no less, and let go immediately, his face coloring. But after he took a step back, he continued on, undeterred.
"Captain, shipboard security is my responsibility. It's unwise to sideline me right before the fleet goes into combat. Someone else could do what you ask. I have many good officers under me."
"I'm not that concerned about a possible boarding action. The Jeanne d'Arc isn't the SDF-1. We'll have all of the bays sealed as soon as the Lightning's launch, and there are no other macro-scaled areas an attacker could reach in battlepods or powered armor. I need you aboard the Shalazar."
"But Captain Prescott could just as easily oversee-"
"Captain Prescott will have to remain aboard the Trenton and watch over the safety of all of the ships we're leaving behind. You know how potentially unstable the situation is on the Shalazar. I need someone aboard her that both the Zentraedi and the Tiresians will respect. Someone who is already familiar with the ship. It needs to be you."
Kaden looked to the side. "Blast," he muttered sullenly, hands clenched in fists. The gesture was familiar, but Vanessa's unease did not overcome her. She had seen enough of Kaden's true character now.
"I need you to do this for me, Colonel. I wanted to watch over them myself, but I can't."
Kaden looked her in the eye for a moment, then nodded. "I will do this, Captain. But… if you should be defeated, the thought of you-" he stumbled over his words, "-all of you, being lost, and for me to be left behind…" It was obvious to Vanessa that it was not missed glory that he was concerned about.
"You wouldn't have thought that way before you joined us. Am I right?" He nodded. "You'll have to learn to set those feelings aside, until the mission is complete. The responsibility is yours. You will be in command."
Vanessa pushed away the last of the readiness reports and stood from her desk in her tiny office. "That'll be all, Allison. The spacefold won't be long enough for us to act on any of these reports anyway."
She stepped over to the narrow observation port set into the outer hull of the bridge tower, and May left her own seat and joined her there. Most of the task force's ships were already deployed for the fold jump, but Vanessa could pick out the distinctive shapes of Trenton, Piraeus, Shalazar, and Gettysburg, silhouetted against the stark brown surface of Altrea.
"It hurts us to leave any ship behind, at a time like this, doesn't it?" May asked, guessing Vanessa's thoughts.
"Yes, but not just for the reasons you're thinking." She sighed. "I've left many things unfinished on the Shalazar. Both for the refugees in general, and the children in particular."
"You've already done a lot for them. If it hadn't been for you, we might have destroyed them in that first encounter."
"That may be, but I've made promises to them. Even leaving Colonel Kravshera behind, I feel like I'm abandoning them."
"But you're not. You have a job to do."
"I wish Bron were here. He'd be better at negotiating with the Tiresians and Zentraedi."
"Don't sell yourself short. You've always stood up for what's right, from the first day we went into training together," May pointed out.
"Maybe I have, but that's not the same as what Bron does. He's a peacemaker, and I've been feeling anything but peaceful." It was as open as Vanessa could bring herself to be about her attitude toward the Masters. "He would figure out a way to form a bridge between the two sides, and make sure everyone is treated fairly."
"You miss him, for a lot of reasons, but you're going you have to put that behind you for now, Captain. In just a little while, the crew are going to need everything you have."
"I know." Vanessa smiled wanly at her friend. How easily her words for Kaden had come to her. Putting them into practice was not so simple. "I'm lucky to have had you at my side, keeping me focused, all these years… Hazard." She managed a small smile at that.
"I'm not about to stop now, Tang," May replied, grinning.
Vanessa took up her half cape from her chair back and swept it around her shoulders, adjusted her eye patch in the mirror, and placed her cap in her head, then nodded to May. "It's time."
Her office was only a short distance up the corridor from the bridge, and her officers were ready when she stepped through the hatch. Commander Liem ceded the conn to her.
"All stations ready, Captain," he reported.
"Good. Don't get distracted when we defold, everyone," she admonished her crew. "I know we all want to find out what happened, but I need you on task. Commander Liem will assemble the big picture. Mister Garo, I'll need you to get comms to any friendly ship we can contact, but remember, Admiral Mbande's staff is directing the rescue operation, you're just coordinating for them."
"Da, moy Kapitain," Garo replied stoically. He had been quieter ever since the incident on Altrea.
"Lieutenant Abargil, until our fighters are launched, let Tactical worry about where the enemy is. I want you to set a new record for emptying the launch bays."
Abargil's brow was already furrowed with worry, but he nodded. "Understood. Priority launch."
"Lieutenant Sertos, I'll expect you to-"
"Turn and burn, Captain!" Reda interrupted exuberantly. "I'll put us in a high thrust evasion the second we defold, just to be safe!"
"Just make sure you don't disrupt the fighter launch and our fleet's formation too badly."
"If their helm operators can't keep up with this wallowing tub, they need to be replaced!"
Vanessa resisted the urge to shake her head, wondering when Reda had become so unmanageable. She moved on to Penelope.
"Ensign, your biggest priority will be fixing the position of every ship that needs to be accounted for, our own, the enemy, and Task Force Five, and find out if there's anything we weren't expecting. We may have to run a search and recovery operation while in combat. Let Commander Liem worry about what the enemy is doing."
Penelope tucked her chin stubbornly. "Yes, Captain. But if we're about to steer into another ship, or an enemy cruiser vectors in on us, you're going to hear me holler."
Vanessa half-smiled, remembering all of her willful crewmates on the SDF-1's bridge. "Of course," she said warmly, and patted Penelope's shoulder, leaving the woman to blush and stare rigidly at her monitor.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Captain?" May asked with a sardonic smile she had picked up from her husband.
"What?"
"What about your speech to the crew?"
"Why do you always assume I'm going to make a speech? I hate making speeches."
May simply gestured toward the comms station, and Vanessa turned and accepted the transmitter Garo was already holding out to her without comment.
"Attention all hands, this is the Captain," she began, her voice echoing in every corridor and compartment of the Jeanne d'Arc and reaching the ears of six thousand crew and pilots. "Every time we fold into unknown space, there is risk of battle, but today we face the near certainty of it. Many of you will be worried about the strength of the foes we face. Make no mistake, our foe is strong, and the danger is real. But remember that judging by strength alone, all life on Earth should have ended ten years ago. Our mission has never been about war, conquest, or vengeance, nor is it today. We now go to defend and rescue our friends, so that our mission together can continue. You have been trained and prepared, and by now you are all veterans of combat. At whatever battle station you occupy, you are critical to our survival and success. I know that I can count on each one of you in the coming hours. That is all."
She handed the receiver back to Garo with a nod. "Proceed, Lieutenant Sertos."
"Aye, Captain!" She watched the countdown for the task force's synchronized fold tick down with rapt attention.
"All hands secure for spacefold. All hands secure for spacefold," the automated alert blared. "Initiating fold in five, four, three, two, one…"
With a wrenching sensation that twisted the stomachs of everyone on the ship, the bridge viewport blazed white, and their world split into a fuzzy, overlapping double image. The Jeanne d'Arc and its crew were waiting in the White Room again.
Next chapter… ambush…
"No, Captain! You can't be thinking to leave me here!"
She jerked to a stop as, to her great surprise, Kaden actually reached out and took hold of her arm, just as she had Reyes's a few minutes earlier. She felt a flash of annoyance as she turned back and saw his face white with mingled outrage and worry.
"You forget yourself, Colonel," she said, glancing at his hand. He looked down and seemed to realize what he had done, in a compartment full of Marines and technicians, no less, and let go immediately, his face coloring. But after he took a step back, he continued on, undeterred.
"Captain, shipboard security is my responsibility. It's unwise to sideline me right before the fleet goes into combat. Someone else could do what you ask. I have many good officers under me."
"I'm not that concerned about a possible boarding action. The Jeanne d'Arc isn't the SDF-1. We'll have all of the bays sealed as soon as the Lightning's launch, and there are no other macro-scaled areas an attacker could reach in battlepods or powered armor. I need you aboard the Shalazar."
"But Captain Prescott could just as easily oversee-"
"Captain Prescott will have to remain aboard the Trenton and watch over the safety of all of the ships we're leaving behind. You know how potentially unstable the situation is on the Shalazar. I need someone aboard her that both the Zentraedi and the Tiresians will respect. Someone who is already familiar with the ship. It needs to be you."
Kaden looked to the side. "Blast," he muttered sullenly, hands clenched in fists. The gesture was familiar, but Vanessa's unease did not overcome her. She had seen enough of Kaden's true character now.
"I need you to do this for me, Colonel. I wanted to watch over them myself, but I can't."
Kaden looked her in the eye for a moment, then nodded. "I will do this, Captain. But… if you should be defeated, the thought of you-" he stumbled over his words, "-all of you, being lost, and for me to be left behind…" It was obvious to Vanessa that it was not missed glory that he was concerned about.
"You wouldn't have thought that way before you joined us. Am I right?" He nodded. "You'll have to learn to set those feelings aside, until the mission is complete. The responsibility is yours. You will be in command."
Vanessa pushed away the last of the readiness reports and stood from her desk in her tiny office. "That'll be all, Allison. The spacefold won't be long enough for us to act on any of these reports anyway."
She stepped over to the narrow observation port set into the outer hull of the bridge tower, and May left her own seat and joined her there. Most of the task force's ships were already deployed for the fold jump, but Vanessa could pick out the distinctive shapes of Trenton, Piraeus, Shalazar, and Gettysburg, silhouetted against the stark brown surface of Altrea.
"It hurts us to leave any ship behind, at a time like this, doesn't it?" May asked, guessing Vanessa's thoughts.
"Yes, but not just for the reasons you're thinking." She sighed. "I've left many things unfinished on the Shalazar. Both for the refugees in general, and the children in particular."
"You've already done a lot for them. If it hadn't been for you, we might have destroyed them in that first encounter."
"That may be, but I've made promises to them. Even leaving Colonel Kravshera behind, I feel like I'm abandoning them."
"But you're not. You have a job to do."
"I wish Bron were here. He'd be better at negotiating with the Tiresians and Zentraedi."
"Don't sell yourself short. You've always stood up for what's right, from the first day we went into training together," May pointed out.
"Maybe I have, but that's not the same as what Bron does. He's a peacemaker, and I've been feeling anything but peaceful." It was as open as Vanessa could bring herself to be about her attitude toward the Masters. "He would figure out a way to form a bridge between the two sides, and make sure everyone is treated fairly."
"You miss him, for a lot of reasons, but you're going you have to put that behind you for now, Captain. In just a little while, the crew are going to need everything you have."
"I know." Vanessa smiled wanly at her friend. How easily her words for Kaden had come to her. Putting them into practice was not so simple. "I'm lucky to have had you at my side, keeping me focused, all these years… Hazard." She managed a small smile at that.
"I'm not about to stop now, Tang," May replied, grinning.
Vanessa took up her half cape from her chair back and swept it around her shoulders, adjusted her eye patch in the mirror, and placed her cap in her head, then nodded to May. "It's time."
Her office was only a short distance up the corridor from the bridge, and her officers were ready when she stepped through the hatch. Commander Liem ceded the conn to her.
"All stations ready, Captain," he reported.
"Good. Don't get distracted when we defold, everyone," she admonished her crew. "I know we all want to find out what happened, but I need you on task. Commander Liem will assemble the big picture. Mister Garo, I'll need you to get comms to any friendly ship we can contact, but remember, Admiral Mbande's staff is directing the rescue operation, you're just coordinating for them."
"Da, moy Kapitain," Garo replied stoically. He had been quieter ever since the incident on Altrea.
"Lieutenant Abargil, until our fighters are launched, let Tactical worry about where the enemy is. I want you to set a new record for emptying the launch bays."
Abargil's brow was already furrowed with worry, but he nodded. "Understood. Priority launch."
"Lieutenant Sertos, I'll expect you to-"
"Turn and burn, Captain!" Reda interrupted exuberantly. "I'll put us in a high thrust evasion the second we defold, just to be safe!"
"Just make sure you don't disrupt the fighter launch and our fleet's formation too badly."
"If their helm operators can't keep up with this wallowing tub, they need to be replaced!"
Vanessa resisted the urge to shake her head, wondering when Reda had become so unmanageable. She moved on to Penelope.
"Ensign, your biggest priority will be fixing the position of every ship that needs to be accounted for, our own, the enemy, and Task Force Five, and find out if there's anything we weren't expecting. We may have to run a search and recovery operation while in combat. Let Commander Liem worry about what the enemy is doing."
Penelope tucked her chin stubbornly. "Yes, Captain. But if we're about to steer into another ship, or an enemy cruiser vectors in on us, you're going to hear me holler."
Vanessa half-smiled, remembering all of her willful crewmates on the SDF-1's bridge. "Of course," she said warmly, and patted Penelope's shoulder, leaving the woman to blush and stare rigidly at her monitor.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Captain?" May asked with a sardonic smile she had picked up from her husband.
"What?"
"What about your speech to the crew?"
"Why do you always assume I'm going to make a speech? I hate making speeches."
May simply gestured toward the comms station, and Vanessa turned and accepted the transmitter Garo was already holding out to her without comment.
"Attention all hands, this is the Captain," she began, her voice echoing in every corridor and compartment of the Jeanne d'Arc and reaching the ears of six thousand crew and pilots. "Every time we fold into unknown space, there is risk of battle, but today we face the near certainty of it. Many of you will be worried about the strength of the foes we face. Make no mistake, our foe is strong, and the danger is real. But remember that judging by strength alone, all life on Earth should have ended ten years ago. Our mission has never been about war, conquest, or vengeance, nor is it today. We now go to defend and rescue our friends, so that our mission together can continue. You have been trained and prepared, and by now you are all veterans of combat. At whatever battle station you occupy, you are critical to our survival and success. I know that I can count on each one of you in the coming hours. That is all."
She handed the receiver back to Garo with a nod. "Proceed, Lieutenant Sertos."
"Aye, Captain!" She watched the countdown for the task force's synchronized fold tick down with rapt attention.
"All hands secure for spacefold. All hands secure for spacefold," the automated alert blared. "Initiating fold in five, four, three, two, one…"
With a wrenching sensation that twisted the stomachs of everyone on the ship, the bridge viewport blazed white, and their world split into a fuzzy, overlapping double image. The Jeanne d'Arc and its crew were waiting in the White Room again.
Next chapter… ambush…
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deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
...and here we go! Can't wait to see what Vanessa and crew are going to jump into. Thanks Blackleaf for a such a good story.
Sojourn Chapter 11.1
Chapter 11
"Commencing defold. All stations to remain at general quarters! Expect immediate combat action!"
Despite the preparation, despite the battle alert and the crimson warning of the bridge lights, Vanessa nearly lost her footing the moment the Jeanne d'Arc arrived at its destination.
"Lieutenant!" she and May called out indignantly, grappling at bridge stations as the deck lurched.
"Steering course four-seven, two-three, full emergency thrust!" Reda announced, excited, but unperturbed. The hull groaned at the stress placed on it, and the star field visible through the bridge port wheeled at a disorienting speed. Vanessa quickly lost sight of the fiery white thruster wash of the closest squadron of Banshee escorts as the Jeanne d'Arc continued its maneuver.
"I told you not to disrupt-!"
"Proximity alert! Zentraedi warships inside the red zone!" Penelope interrupted. A rain of lurid blue beams, carrying with them utter destruction, slanted over the Jeanne d'Arc's upper hull works, but none struck true. Vanessa locked the grip of her cybernetic hand on a welded handhold behind commander Liem's station, and reached out with her other hand to steady May.
"An old Zentraedi trick," Reda said as she triggered counter-thrusters, and the great ship's motion smoothed out. "If there are enough ships to spare, we always position some escorts near the point an enemy folded away, just in case they return with reinforcements." Vanessa knew about the tactic from her cross training with former Zentraedi commanders, she just hadn't expected the enemy to react so quickly. Another burst of starboard thrusters, and the carrier rolled. "This'll give you the angle, Commander!" Rita called over her shoulder. Liem kept his eyes on his tactical displays.
"With your permission, Captain?" he asked mildly.
"Return fire, all batteries!" Vanessa ordered. "Hold missiles! We don't know how long this fight will go on."
Through the viewport, Vanessa could see the Number One and Two heavy beam cannon turrets rotate and take aim. The squat, dome shaped weapon housings were as big as a battleship turret from old Earth, each concealing three beam emitters more powerful than any non-nuclear weapons carried by any terrestrial fleet that had ever sailed.
"Enemy escort squadron, bearing two-seven-five. Targets locked, and… fire!" Liem barely raised his voice, but in the next moment, a dozen vengeful lances of star fire reached back toward the Jeanne d'Arc's attackers. With each flash of light, a deep thrum traveled through the deck plates. Everyone was held in a breathless pause, until Liem spoke.
"Targets well struck. One frigate, confirmed destroyed. The rest of the squadron is disengaging."
"Well done," Vanessa said with a nod. "And thank you for your quick action, Lieutenant Sertos. Now please get us back in formation."
"Right away, Captain!"
Vanessa trusted May and Abargil to manage the initial deployment of the veritechs. It was the big picture that mattered now, the fleet, the enemy, and the whereabouts of Task Force Five. Straza.
"Enemy ships are active and maneuvering to assume a standard Zentraedi battle formation," Penelope reported.
"Orders for the fleet, moy Kapitain." Garo added. "'Maintain stand-off distance from enemy forces while the strike squadrons assemble. All vessels are to form on the flagship.'"
"Understood. Miss Sertos, keep us at extreme weapon range for now."
"Aye, aye, Captain!"
The deck had stabilized, and Vanessa strode over to examine Penelope's screens. The enemy ships were there, just as Lieutenant Vetzev had reported. The command ship and heavy troop carrier were easily tracked, keeping well out of range. There were only two cruisers, and nine frigates, so now they knew that Task Force Five must have fought on and inflicted more damage after the Gettysburg's departure. But where was Task Force Five? She counted a number of debris fields, but surely they couldn't all be gone?
"Tighten your sweep, Ensign. I need to know what ships the debris came from."
"Right!" It was too much information for any but a very talented or very experienced officer to handle, with so many ships on the move. Looming over all was a curious purple and azure planet, a little larger than Earth, wreathed in white clouds. Task Force Five's battle seemed to have started near the world's tiny moon, sharp, and shiny black as a shard of obsidian, and ran in an arcing path all the way to the planet's near orbit. She instantly regretted sending Kaden away. She would need him if it became necessary to launch a rescue operation to the planet in the midst of the battle.
"Deploy the special reconnaissance squadrons to the planet," Vanessa ordered. "There may be survivors down there."
"Deploying now," Abargil acknowledged, his voice and expression firm, now that the waiting was over.
"I have a fix on the Guerrero," Penelope said grimly. Vanessa and the others gasped at the image that appeared on Penelope's main monitor. Jeanne d'Arc's sister ship was adrift not far from the planet, having been crudely bisected by a titanic barrage of energy weapons. The ruined edges of its hull still glowed dimly, slowly cooling in the vacuum of space. Vanessa tightened her grip on Penelope's seat back against a brief wave of dizziness, forcing herself to focus and look. Explosively jettisoned panels were missing, revealing dozens of empty bays across the main hull and bridge tower.
"The crew of the Guerrero abandoned ship and launched lifeboats," Vanessa announced. "Recon units are to prioritize the planet for search and rescue operations. It would have been the best way to avoid capture. Ensign Garo!"
"Moy Kapitain?"
"Let the Operations Center handle most of the fleet traffic. I want your eyes and ears on any signals from survivors, and check on intercepted enemy communications. We need to know if any of their ships have prisoners aboard."
"Kohevo, mem. But recall that the Zentraedi only take prisoners under exceptional circumstances."
"We have to allow for the possibility, nonetheless. May, what's our Air Group status?"
"About five more minutes for all veritechs to launch. We're tracking the enemy strike craft. At least six thousand battlepods are already in formation ahead of the enemy fleet, with more still launching."
"And the special munitions?"
"Commander Reyes has ten elite squadrons standing by. But our recon flights won't be able to get to the planet. The enemy fleet has reoriented to counter us, but it's not leaving orbit. They're also employing local jamming of scans and communications."
Vanessa shook her head. The Zentraedi had the advantage, had already triumphed once. Why weren't they attacking in full strength? And where was Task Force Five? She was fairly certain that the debris clouds could account for a pair of destroyers, and maybe a fleet tender, but had the rest folded out? Or were they hiding somewhere? Admiral Mbande's face appeared on the comms monitor, looking cool and commanding.
"Captain Leeds, have your crew made any more progress than my own staff on tracking the survivors?"
"Negative, Admiral. We've been blocked from approaching the planet. And my communications officer does not believe they've been taken prisoner."
"Then it's time to make our opening move. Captain Leeds," she said formally, "let it be entered into the ship's log that I, as commanding admiral of Task Force 2, authorize immediate arming and release of the Reflex warheads."
Next week… Special Munitions…
I was a little worried I'd forgotten to address this, because that would be a no-go for Vanessa, if no one else. But per Ensign Garo's report, the Zentraedi are jamming communications. They're just not listening.
Then there is an issue as it doesn't appear to be strong enough jamming or portrayed that way in the story. As if they can communicate between themselves then they should be able to communicate with the Zentradi, and if it is so strong near the planet to prevent only local communication they can still reach the retreating ambush force. But mainly the fact she doesn't appear to try, and it isn't clear that they couldn't be reached if she did try isn't obvious from reading.
Perhaps it could be presented a little more clearly. I'll take a look before next week's post. In any case, the attempt wouldn't happen on the bridge -Admiral Mbande's staff in the Operations Center would handle the communication, since she is the ranking officer.
Sojourn Chapter 11.2
"Captain Leeds," Admiral Mbande said formally, "let it be entered into the ship's log that I, as commanding Admiral of Task Force 2, authorize immediate arming and release of the Reflex warheads."
The bridge hushed at her words. The strident tones from Commander Liem's station, as it tracked the enemy ships, rang out incessantly. Chatter between the scores of veritech squadrons now taking up position throughout the fleet formation crackled in the background. Vanessa kept her gaze fixed on her commanding officer as she swallowed dryly and nodded.
"It is so noted. What are your orders, Admiral?"
"Commence attack with all Reflex warheads. We will follow with an all out strike by our mecha. Capital ships will fire in support. We'll break the enemy formation, and then our warships will move in to mop them up piecemeal."
Vanessa didn't hesitate to reply. "Ma'am, I've run the simulations with Commander Reyes. That plan of attack will result in heavy losses, and the outcome will be very much in doubt."
"Perhaps not, Captain. It is true, the Zentraedi do not normally take prisoners. But they do use bait."
Vanessa's mind raced, thinking first of the survivors in their life boats, almost certainly now hiding on the surface of that strange, amethyst world, then the enemy fleet, obstinately holding orbit, and finally, the sensor shadow cast by the immense mass of the planet itself. She glanced over at Penelope's station, and the ensign, bless her, was already calculating orbits that the surviving ships from Straza's task force might be using to keep the planet between them and their enemies. They couldn't have fought off the Zentraedi, but they would not abandon their crewmates, not after the Gettysburg folded away to summon help. They would have stayed, sheltering on the far side of the planet, hoping for an opportunity to mount a rescue. The Zentraedi, in turn, would maintain their own orbit, leaving the survivors as bait, and wait for their chance to catch and crush the REF ships. That meant…
"You're hoping the remnants of Task Force Five will outflank the enemy when we attack."
Mbande smiled tightly. "Indeed."
"But how will we signal them? If the timing is wrong…" Too late, or too early, and the Zentraedi would destroy them all in detail.
"Leave that to me. The timing will indeed be critical. I'm sending Phobos on a wide swing to clear the planet's sensor shadow and link communications with Task Force Five."
"If they're actually still out there," Penelope muttered, too low for the Admiral to hear. Vanessa ignored her. She wished they could have safely left Phobos behind with Kaden and the others, wished Doctor Priest had not insisted on taking the risks with his science team aboard the refitted destroyer, but they needed the enhanced sensors and communications gear it carried. Mbande was right, their counterattack was always going to be risky, and this was their best chance. Vanessa nodded.
"I'll provide as strong a fighter escort as we can spare. The Reflex warheads will have to do the rest of the work."
"Commence the operation immediately," Mbande ordered. "We must not allow the enemy to fall upon us separately."
"Understood."
"Mbande, out."
Vanessa moved alongside Lieutenant Abargil. "Air group status?"
"All ready fighters have launched. Nine hundred-seventeen Lightnings are active."
Reyes had pulled off a miracle, getting more of the temperamental veritechs space worthy than she had expected. And they still weren't enough.
"Commander Reyes, you heard the admiral?" she asked.
"I did, Captain," his slightly distorted response came back. No playfulness was in his voice now. "I've issued my deployment orders. I have a strong escort joining the Phobos."
"Good."
Ahead of her Vanessa witnessed a sea of white, gold, green, and red veritechs streaking away into the darkness where the alien planet blocked half of the system's yellow sun. Then three of their destroyers, Kelpie, Medusa, and Minotaur, flew over their heads, picking up speed and spreading out to more effectively screen Manhattan, their other tender, Lothal, and her own ship from attack. She couldn't see the others, Changeling, Harpy, and Dullahan, but she knew they would be doing the same. Throughout the fleet, armor shutters were retracting and defense turrets were sliding into position. Scores of anti-ship warheads peeked from their launch tubes. Comms traffic was a confusing babble of orders and status reports that Garo and Mbande's staff somehow orchestrated into a coherent whole. Penelope and other sensor technicians relentlessly pinged the enemy ships and mecha with active scans, gleaning every last scrap of data that might be useful to the gunners and flight crews. A dozen Lightnings, not part of the main attack group, flew into view on delicate bursts of their maneuvering thrusters and took up position two hundred meters forward of the bridge tower. Vanessa raised an eyebrow at that.
"I certainly appreciate the support, Commander, but don't you need every available fighter with the forward screening force and the strike wing?"
"A necessary precaution, Captain. I have no expectation of preventing the enemy mecha from penetrating our outer perimeter, even with the Reflex missile strike." Which Vanessa knew meant he expected the worst - the enemy engaging the flagship at close quarters.
"Understood. Proceed with the Reflex missile strike." Vanessa glanced at May, who stood straight and correct, her authoritative XO. But she also saw the way her friend's eyes shined. She gave May a nod, knowing what was on her mind.
"Good hunting, Jose. I love you." Not a tremor in May's voice.
"I love you, Allie. I'll be back soon."
They were all aware it was a promise he might not be able to keep. For the first time since the Jeanne d'Arc left Earth, Vanessa found herself glad that Bron was half a galaxy away. Jose opened the channel to his flight crews.
"Jeanne d'Arc Attack Wing, commence the operation!"
Next week… Fire Pattern Gladius…
The bridge hushed at her words. The strident tones from Commander Liem's station, as it tracked the enemy ships, rang out incessantly. Chatter between the scores of veritech squadrons now taking up position throughout the fleet formation crackled in the background. Vanessa kept her gaze fixed on her commanding officer as she swallowed dryly and nodded.
"It is so noted. What are your orders, Admiral?"
"Commence attack with all Reflex warheads. We will follow with an all out strike by our mecha. Capital ships will fire in support. We'll break the enemy formation, and then our warships will move in to mop them up piecemeal."
Vanessa didn't hesitate to reply. "Ma'am, I've run the simulations with Commander Reyes. That plan of attack will result in heavy losses, and the outcome will be very much in doubt."
"Perhaps not, Captain. It is true, the Zentraedi do not normally take prisoners. But they do use bait."
Vanessa's mind raced, thinking first of the survivors in their life boats, almost certainly now hiding on the surface of that strange, amethyst world, then the enemy fleet, obstinately holding orbit, and finally, the sensor shadow cast by the immense mass of the planet itself. She glanced over at Penelope's station, and the ensign, bless her, was already calculating orbits that the surviving ships from Straza's task force might be using to keep the planet between them and their enemies. They couldn't have fought off the Zentraedi, but they would not abandon their crewmates, not after the Gettysburg folded away to summon help. They would have stayed, sheltering on the far side of the planet, hoping for an opportunity to mount a rescue. The Zentraedi, in turn, would maintain their own orbit, leaving the survivors as bait, and wait for their chance to catch and crush the REF ships. That meant…
"You're hoping the remnants of Task Force Five will outflank the enemy when we attack."
Mbande smiled tightly. "Indeed."
"But how will we signal them? If the timing is wrong…" Too late, or too early, and the Zentraedi would destroy them all in detail.
"Leave that to me. The timing will indeed be critical. I'm sending Phobos on a wide swing to clear the planet's sensor shadow and link communications with Task Force Five."
"If they're actually still out there," Penelope muttered, too low for the Admiral to hear. Vanessa ignored her. She wished they could have safely left Phobos behind with Kaden and the others, wished Doctor Priest had not insisted on taking the risks with his science team aboard the refitted destroyer, but they needed the enhanced sensors and communications gear it carried. Mbande was right, their counterattack was always going to be risky, and this was their best chance. Vanessa nodded.
"I'll provide as strong a fighter escort as we can spare. The Reflex warheads will have to do the rest of the work."
"Commence the operation immediately," Mbande ordered. "We must not allow the enemy to fall upon us separately."
"Understood."
"Mbande, out."
Vanessa moved alongside Lieutenant Abargil. "Air group status?"
"All ready fighters have launched. Nine hundred-seventeen Lightnings are active."
Reyes had pulled off a miracle, getting more of the temperamental veritechs space worthy than she had expected. And they still weren't enough.
"Commander Reyes, you heard the admiral?" she asked.
"I did, Captain," his slightly distorted response came back. No playfulness was in his voice now. "I've issued my deployment orders. I have a strong escort joining the Phobos."
"Good."
Ahead of her Vanessa witnessed a sea of white, gold, green, and red veritechs streaking away into the darkness where the alien planet blocked half of the system's yellow sun. Then three of their destroyers, Kelpie, Medusa, and Minotaur, flew over their heads, picking up speed and spreading out to more effectively screen Manhattan, their other tender, Lothal, and her own ship from attack. She couldn't see the others, Changeling, Harpy, and Dullahan, but she knew they would be doing the same. Throughout the fleet, armor shutters were retracting and defense turrets were sliding into position. Scores of anti-ship warheads peeked from their launch tubes. Comms traffic was a confusing babble of orders and status reports that Garo and Mbande's staff somehow orchestrated into a coherent whole. Penelope and other sensor technicians relentlessly pinged the enemy ships and mecha with active scans, gleaning every last scrap of data that might be useful to the gunners and flight crews. A dozen Lightnings, not part of the main attack group, flew into view on delicate bursts of their maneuvering thrusters and took up position two hundred meters forward of the bridge tower. Vanessa raised an eyebrow at that.
"I certainly appreciate the support, Commander, but don't you need every available fighter with the forward screening force and the strike wing?"
"A necessary precaution, Captain. I have no expectation of preventing the enemy mecha from penetrating our outer perimeter, even with the Reflex missile strike." Which Vanessa knew meant he expected the worst - the enemy engaging the flagship at close quarters.
"Understood. Proceed with the Reflex missile strike." Vanessa glanced at May, who stood straight and correct, her authoritative XO. But she also saw the way her friend's eyes shined. She gave May a nod, knowing what was on her mind.
"Good hunting, Jose. I love you." Not a tremor in May's voice.
"I love you, Allie. I'll be back soon."
They were all aware it was a promise he might not be able to keep. For the first time since the Jeanne d'Arc left Earth, Vanessa found herself glad that Bron was half a galaxy away. Jose opened the channel to his flight crews.
"Jeanne d'Arc Attack Wing, commence the operation!"
Next week… Fire Pattern Gladius…
deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
Gah! These whole baby chunks of story are getting to me! Just get to the battle! Grumble. Still! Let's go!
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
And so it begins. One thing to remember with Zentraedi warships is the vast majority of their firepower - especially the particle beam cannons - are focused forward with minimal aft weaponry so they're more vulnerable there. They are also slightly more vulnerable on their ventral sides as Tirolian design practices mean a ship has much less ventral i.e. underside firepower than you would expect. So if the remains of the task force are out there and attack from behind and below they could inflict disproportate damage.
Your not on your own.
Your not on your own.
Well, friends, I certainly sympathize. This is the problem with serializing a story that is not actually being written in a serialized format. Scenes that might pass quickly when reading complete chapters can drag out the pacing when read individually. Regrettably, right now I have to be careful of the length of my posts, or I will find myself running out of material. I'm going through another bad patch in my work schedule, where I've been finding for several weeks in a row that I'm missing one or two days' writing sessions each week. My brief free time in the evening comes much too late for me to be able to write effectively, so it's my lunch break or nothing. Right now, I'm only one chapter ahead, so I'm being cautious. Hopefully, things will smooth out, and I can start gaining ground again.
The good news is, I can assure you that this is the last scene that is just leadup. Until next time, thank you all, and take care!
Sojourn Chapter 11.3
Tiny Phobos broke away from the fleet's protection, beginning a wide hook around the ethereal purple planetary mass, accompanied by three score of escorting veritechs, and the enemy's response was immediate. A great tide of battlepods surged toward the REF ships. They were closely followed by the lighter warships, mechanical sea monsters that glared at their prey through bright yellow observation domes, their green hulls bewhiskered with spiny sensor masts.
Reyes and his pilots were ready, their sleek Lightnings keeping in precise formations even as they applied thrust, forming a vertical rectangle stretching across hundreds of kilometers to block the approaching foe. Arrayed against them was a vicious swarm of standard Regult units, along with every variant in the Zentraedi armory, enough battlepods to clutter half of Penelope's monitor with overlapping red hexagonal icons.
"Special Munitions Group, report status," Reyes demanded.
"Black Knights, reporting Reflex warheads armed and ready."
At the first acknowledgement, an automated alert went off on the bridge, a distinctive pulse that every member of the crew was trained to recognize.
"Werewolves, weapons hot!"
"Fenghuang squadron, status green."
"-tighten it up Musket Seven... Musketeers, ready and waiting, sir!"
On they went, until all of the elite squadrons reported. Reyes checked with Tactical one last time, and transmitted his orders.
"Target Reflex warheads. Fire pattern… Gladius. Confirm target locks."
The tightness in Vanessa's chest was almost unbearable now. Penelope bit her lip until she drew blood, keeping her silence as that unending cloud of enemy mecha closed the range. Vanessa heard stressed metal and looked down, realizing with dismay that she had put the imprint of her cybernetic hand in the grab bar welded to the back of Penelope's seat.
"Reflex warheads, targeted and locked," Lieutenant Abargil confirmed.
Reyes steeled himself, and gave the command. "Authentication Delta-Taurus-One-Seven-Omega. Wave Gladius, Reflex warheads, fire!"
The veritechs, each loaded down with six of the stubby, fat-bellied missiles, were too far away for anyone on the bridge to see the launch, but Vanessa watched the spread of gold-haloed tracking signals - hundreds upon hundreds of them. If the Zentraedi were surprised or dismayed, they gave no sign. Regult-type battlepods mounted a pair of almost laughably rudimentary defensive cannon for anti-air and missile work in small chin mounts. Straza Pentiet was the only pilot Vanessa had ever seen successfully intercept missiles with them, but now the battlepods threw millions of alloy slugs in the path of the missiles. With no fanfare, gold haloes blinked out, and the REF force's main striking power rapidly shrank. Vanessa tried to calculate the number remaining, the explosive yields, the probable damage, but found it hopeless, even for her- too many variables, the speed too great, the numbers changing too rapidly.
"Please, please…" she heard Penelope whisper.
"All veritechs, deploy blast shutters," Abargil ordered, and each pilot activated an armor panel bearing their squadron's heraldry to slide over their cockpit canopy and protect them from being flash blinded.
"Triggering detonation of Reflex warheads in three… two… one," Abargil counted down. And there was light.
There were only a handful of other people still living that had personally witnessed destruction on such a scale as many times as Vanessa had - the unleashing of the SDF-1's Reflex cannon. The catastrophic overload and explosion of the Omni-Directional Barrier System. The Rain of Death. The destruction of Dolza's six hundred kilometer tall mobile command center, from the inside out. What she saw now might be on a smaller scale, but the concentration of power upon that critical span of space between the two fleets was no less.
The bridge viewport's reactive coating muted the light of the blasts, saving the crew's vision and turning the explosions a bizarre, shimmering cobalt blue that reminded Vanessa of the disturbing aurora borealis effect that had hovered in the night sky over the burning wreckage of the SDF-1 for weeks after its destruction. As the light began to fade, she turned her attention back to the monitors. A high-pitched hum was feeding back through the bridge instruments, and the image on Penelope's screen was broken into a garbled mess of graphic glitches and error messages. Penelope was swearing under breath, flipping between imaging modes, and the rest of the bridge crew were making similar noises of dismay.
"I'm sorry Captain, I'm trying! I can't get any clear readings through this mess!"
"It's not the sensors, Ensign, they have plenty of shielding," Vanessa told her calmly. "I saw this during the war, every time we fired the Reflex cannon. Just reset your monitors, everyone!" she called out, raising her voice.
Penelope pushed the heel of her hand forward and flipped the entire row of switches, blanking her displays and powering all of them back on. Abruptly her screens returned, sharp and clear of glitches. Penelope blew a breath in relief.
"Direct hit on the enemy mecha formations! Estimating… eighty-three percent losses in their forward attack group!"
There was no cheering, but the relief in the bridge was palpable. Liem checked his tactical display and nodded.
"Confirmed. The attack corridor is clear. Proceed with Wave Two."
"Acknowledged, Tactical," Reyes replied. "Special Munitions Group, target Wave Two. Fire pattern… Spatha! Confirm lock!"
Vanessa shook her head. All of the death, the destructive force released, and yet it was only the prelude to the real battle. As for the Zentraedi, they could be frightened, confused, and sent into flight under the right circumstances, but not like this. Their Masters had indoctrinated them to pay no heed to mass casualties or weapons of mass destruction. Their reaction to a blow like this one was invariably to redouble their effort.
"Survivors of the enemy forward attack group are about to make contact on your flanks, Group Leader!" Abargil warned. "Enemy mecha still number over one thousand! Teams one, three, fourteen, and fifteen, break formation and engage!"
"Just keep them off us for a few more seconds!" Reyes called back. "Locked and… fire! Fire!"
The smaller second wave of Reflex missiles lashed out, whirling through the gaping hole the first strike had left in the ranks of Zentraedi mecha. They powered through the opposing fleet formation, losing many of their number to defensive turrets, and finally converged on their main target - Quiltra Queleual - the monstrous landing ship and its thousands of reserve battlepods.
"Detonation in five, four-"
"Captain!" Penelope shouted, "Large force of battlepods scattering from behind the landing ship!"
"What!"
"- one!" And the last of Task Force Two's Reflex warheads exploded, vaporizing an empty target. As the distortion cleared, Vanessa could see the same thing Penelope had. The landing ship had launched and concealed the rest of its mecha in its thruster wash while the two fleets were still deploying. With unflinching bravery, they had held their position until the critical seconds when escape was still possible, but it was too late to retarget the Reflex missiles.
"They out-guessed us," May observed bitterly. "They planned to sacrifice the first group of battlepods and the landing ship to preserve the rest."
"Some battlepods were caught in the second wave blast, but I estimate there are about another three thousand still out there," Penelope reported. "The rest of the enemy ships are deploying their own smaller mecha complements and forming up with the main group. Another fifteen hundred battlepods and seven hundred Gnerl fighter pods!"
Vanessa glared at the monitors. Their opening punch had cut the Zentraedi mecha forces by half, but it had not been the knockout blow she and Admiral Mbande had intended. The admiral herself abruptly reappeared on screen. There was no sign of any cracks in her resolve as she addressed the bridge.
"Unfortunate. But we are far from defeated. Captain, your fighters are to protect the fleet, while all warships target the enemy cruisers. They will be our first objective. Do not close with the enemy fleet until Phobos has completed its mission and re-established communication with Task Force Five."
"Yes, Admiral."
A furious dogfight was already under way between Reyes's squadrons and the survivors of the first missile barrage, and the heavy Zentraedi warships were now blasting away at the REF fleet, their heavy beam cannon batteries leaving eye-watering streaks of blue across the blackness of space.
"Target the enemy capital ships with a full missile barrage, Commander Liem. Our main batteries may fire at will," Vanessa said, grimly watching the distance between the Reyes's fighters and the enormous second wave of Zentraedi mecha tick down.
"Aye, Captain."
Next week… barrier collapse…
Reyes and his pilots were ready, their sleek Lightnings keeping in precise formations even as they applied thrust, forming a vertical rectangle stretching across hundreds of kilometers to block the approaching foe. Arrayed against them was a vicious swarm of standard Regult units, along with every variant in the Zentraedi armory, enough battlepods to clutter half of Penelope's monitor with overlapping red hexagonal icons.
"Special Munitions Group, report status," Reyes demanded.
"Black Knights, reporting Reflex warheads armed and ready."
At the first acknowledgement, an automated alert went off on the bridge, a distinctive pulse that every member of the crew was trained to recognize.
<REFLEX REACTION DETECTED>
"Werewolves, weapons hot!"
"Fenghuang squadron, status green."
"-tighten it up Musket Seven... Musketeers, ready and waiting, sir!"
On they went, until all of the elite squadrons reported. Reyes checked with Tactical one last time, and transmitted his orders.
"Target Reflex warheads. Fire pattern… Gladius. Confirm target locks."
The tightness in Vanessa's chest was almost unbearable now. Penelope bit her lip until she drew blood, keeping her silence as that unending cloud of enemy mecha closed the range. Vanessa heard stressed metal and looked down, realizing with dismay that she had put the imprint of her cybernetic hand in the grab bar welded to the back of Penelope's seat.
"Reflex warheads, targeted and locked," Lieutenant Abargil confirmed.
Reyes steeled himself, and gave the command. "Authentication Delta-Taurus-One-Seven-Omega. Wave Gladius, Reflex warheads, fire!"
The veritechs, each loaded down with six of the stubby, fat-bellied missiles, were too far away for anyone on the bridge to see the launch, but Vanessa watched the spread of gold-haloed tracking signals - hundreds upon hundreds of them. If the Zentraedi were surprised or dismayed, they gave no sign. Regult-type battlepods mounted a pair of almost laughably rudimentary defensive cannon for anti-air and missile work in small chin mounts. Straza Pentiet was the only pilot Vanessa had ever seen successfully intercept missiles with them, but now the battlepods threw millions of alloy slugs in the path of the missiles. With no fanfare, gold haloes blinked out, and the REF force's main striking power rapidly shrank. Vanessa tried to calculate the number remaining, the explosive yields, the probable damage, but found it hopeless, even for her- too many variables, the speed too great, the numbers changing too rapidly.
"Please, please…" she heard Penelope whisper.
"All veritechs, deploy blast shutters," Abargil ordered, and each pilot activated an armor panel bearing their squadron's heraldry to slide over their cockpit canopy and protect them from being flash blinded.
"Triggering detonation of Reflex warheads in three… two… one," Abargil counted down. And there was light.
There were only a handful of other people still living that had personally witnessed destruction on such a scale as many times as Vanessa had - the unleashing of the SDF-1's Reflex cannon. The catastrophic overload and explosion of the Omni-Directional Barrier System. The Rain of Death. The destruction of Dolza's six hundred kilometer tall mobile command center, from the inside out. What she saw now might be on a smaller scale, but the concentration of power upon that critical span of space between the two fleets was no less.
The bridge viewport's reactive coating muted the light of the blasts, saving the crew's vision and turning the explosions a bizarre, shimmering cobalt blue that reminded Vanessa of the disturbing aurora borealis effect that had hovered in the night sky over the burning wreckage of the SDF-1 for weeks after its destruction. As the light began to fade, she turned her attention back to the monitors. A high-pitched hum was feeding back through the bridge instruments, and the image on Penelope's screen was broken into a garbled mess of graphic glitches and error messages. Penelope was swearing under breath, flipping between imaging modes, and the rest of the bridge crew were making similar noises of dismay.
"I'm sorry Captain, I'm trying! I can't get any clear readings through this mess!"
"It's not the sensors, Ensign, they have plenty of shielding," Vanessa told her calmly. "I saw this during the war, every time we fired the Reflex cannon. Just reset your monitors, everyone!" she called out, raising her voice.
Penelope pushed the heel of her hand forward and flipped the entire row of switches, blanking her displays and powering all of them back on. Abruptly her screens returned, sharp and clear of glitches. Penelope blew a breath in relief.
"Direct hit on the enemy mecha formations! Estimating… eighty-three percent losses in their forward attack group!"
There was no cheering, but the relief in the bridge was palpable. Liem checked his tactical display and nodded.
"Confirmed. The attack corridor is clear. Proceed with Wave Two."
"Acknowledged, Tactical," Reyes replied. "Special Munitions Group, target Wave Two. Fire pattern… Spatha! Confirm lock!"
Vanessa shook her head. All of the death, the destructive force released, and yet it was only the prelude to the real battle. As for the Zentraedi, they could be frightened, confused, and sent into flight under the right circumstances, but not like this. Their Masters had indoctrinated them to pay no heed to mass casualties or weapons of mass destruction. Their reaction to a blow like this one was invariably to redouble their effort.
"Survivors of the enemy forward attack group are about to make contact on your flanks, Group Leader!" Abargil warned. "Enemy mecha still number over one thousand! Teams one, three, fourteen, and fifteen, break formation and engage!"
"Just keep them off us for a few more seconds!" Reyes called back. "Locked and… fire! Fire!"
The smaller second wave of Reflex missiles lashed out, whirling through the gaping hole the first strike had left in the ranks of Zentraedi mecha. They powered through the opposing fleet formation, losing many of their number to defensive turrets, and finally converged on their main target - Quiltra Queleual - the monstrous landing ship and its thousands of reserve battlepods.
"Detonation in five, four-"
"Captain!" Penelope shouted, "Large force of battlepods scattering from behind the landing ship!"
"What!"
"- one!" And the last of Task Force Two's Reflex warheads exploded, vaporizing an empty target. As the distortion cleared, Vanessa could see the same thing Penelope had. The landing ship had launched and concealed the rest of its mecha in its thruster wash while the two fleets were still deploying. With unflinching bravery, they had held their position until the critical seconds when escape was still possible, but it was too late to retarget the Reflex missiles.
"They out-guessed us," May observed bitterly. "They planned to sacrifice the first group of battlepods and the landing ship to preserve the rest."
"Some battlepods were caught in the second wave blast, but I estimate there are about another three thousand still out there," Penelope reported. "The rest of the enemy ships are deploying their own smaller mecha complements and forming up with the main group. Another fifteen hundred battlepods and seven hundred Gnerl fighter pods!"
Vanessa glared at the monitors. Their opening punch had cut the Zentraedi mecha forces by half, but it had not been the knockout blow she and Admiral Mbande had intended. The admiral herself abruptly reappeared on screen. There was no sign of any cracks in her resolve as she addressed the bridge.
"Unfortunate. But we are far from defeated. Captain, your fighters are to protect the fleet, while all warships target the enemy cruisers. They will be our first objective. Do not close with the enemy fleet until Phobos has completed its mission and re-established communication with Task Force Five."
"Yes, Admiral."
A furious dogfight was already under way between Reyes's squadrons and the survivors of the first missile barrage, and the heavy Zentraedi warships were now blasting away at the REF fleet, their heavy beam cannon batteries leaving eye-watering streaks of blue across the blackness of space.
"Target the enemy capital ships with a full missile barrage, Commander Liem. Our main batteries may fire at will," Vanessa said, grimly watching the distance between the Reyes's fighters and the enormous second wave of Zentraedi mecha tick down.
"Aye, Captain."
Next week… barrier collapse…
