Bridge/Cockpit
Corvette Krasnyk
Near Munro VI
Captain M’raq nar Vrindl sat poised, ready to strike at the enemies seen out the forward window. They were far off, some eights of thousands of octomaks distant. He could not make out any details from this distant. In fact, the Ape’s ships looked like little more than points of light, and only when light from the star known as Munro reflected upon them. On his right, he accessed a viewer for a magnified view. Seven ships appeared on the red backlit viewer. Two of the ships would be of the most interest to System Command.
“Report,” he barked at the bridge crew. The term bridge was used loosely when referring to a Kamrani-class corvette. It was little more than a glorified cockpit, with enough space to get up and leave one’s station. M’raq’s own seat was raised above the other four seats that formed a semi-circle on the bridge. Like all Kilrathi captains, he lorded over his crew, elevating himself head and shoulders above all under his command. On board his ship, M’raq had no peers.
The nearest crewmember, a young pilot called Nalkarg, reported. He was a sharp cub, if inexperienced. If he lived long enough, he had the potential for command. “Lord Captain, I report two Concordia-class carriers, as well as an Acropolis-class cruiser—“
M’raq leaned over to see what his pilot say, bared his teeth and hissed. “That’s a Vanguard!” M’raq snapped, as he backhanded the pilot with enough force to send his head into his viewer. He was a bright cub, one who learned quick. This was why M’raq simply did not kill him for such an inept mistake. The Vanguards were twice the mass of the Concordias, and carried twice as many fighters.
“My apologies,” he said. The pilot was a tough cub as well. He made no attempt to rub his snout, which no doubt hurt after colliding with a piece of M’raq’s ship’s equipment. The captain still detected a hint of defiance in the cub’s voice, and thought about another rebuke. No, Nalkarg would not be much of a Kilrathi if he meekly submitted. He also knew that ship captains had power of life and death over his crew. It was a power M’raq has exercised often enough over the last kahr’ik.
To his left, his executive officer, Hharras, spoke. “Lord Captain, I have identified the larger carrier as the Tennessee River.” Like all of his crew, Hharras had only his given name. Once a Kilrathi male leaves his birth Pride, he leaves behind his Pride name as well. M’raq had only recently seized control of the Vrindl Pride, a small Pride that colonized the conquered Ape planet of McAuliffe VI. By defeating the previous kings of the Pride, slaying one and seriously wounding the other by himself, he became king. He had already sired many cubs of his own, and being so far from his Pride left him wary. No honest Kilrathi would try to take the Pride without challenging him, but scions of the Eight were far from honest.
Tennessee River, yes, he knew that name. Where the name came from, was not as clear– presumably a body of water on the Terran homeworld, but the ship was familiar enough. “They have good pilots. Skilled at protecting their carrier.” He began to imagine just what it would be like to tangle with pilots of their caliber. Krasnyk has fought many Terran fighters and corvettes before, but never any with the reputation of the Tennessee River.
“It would be an honor to kill such a ship,” His executive officer had the gleam of a predator in his eye, waiting to pounce. He said the words that all the bridge crew thought. They wanted a fight, and M’raq wanted to give them one. However, System Command back on the inner most planet had different ideas. They desired to know what the Apes have brought into the system, and if they were strong enough to break through to the Kilrah jump point.
The jump point was as big a surprise to the Empire as it was to the Terrans. Only after the war had began, and the Apes had formed their lines, did the Kilrathi discover this jump point. Had they known about it at the start of the war, the fleet would have taken Munro, stormed Proxima, and even conquered Sol before the Apes could respond. The war might have been over in less than a kahr’ik, instead of dragging on for two-and-a-half sh’rik. No war in the history of the Empire has ever lasted so long. The war against the Hari lasted only four kahr’ik, and that was due to their size. The Varni fell in less than a kahr’ik. These Apes, they fought unlike any enemy M’raq or any of his species ever fought.
“The honor will wait!” M’raq commanded. His mission was to gather information, and he would not fail. Failure was the ultimate dishonor. Without honor, the Vrindl Pride females would not support him when another challenged for his kingship. He turned his attention back to his pilot. “Pilot! Are these all the Ape ships?”
Nalkarg could not answer. “These are the ships I have detected. More could be on the opposite side of the planet.”
M’raq hissed. He wished not to hear of ‘could be’, only of what is. The initial invasion force was reported to be far larger than this. Six carriers, four battleships, and one of those accursed missile ships. There was no honor in killing one’s enemy by saturating space with FF missiles. If System Command has its own plans to defeat such a weapon, they were not sharing them with a lowly corvette captain. If they did not, then the battle would be brutal and short
“Lord Captain, I pick up reports that fighting still wages on the moon,” Hharras reported. Aside from being second-in-command, he was an able communication officer. He had held such a post before being transferred to M’raq’s ship, and was so good at it, M’raq wished not to waste his talent.
Excellent. The Apes would not move while Mkchaw, largest of two-eight of moons, lay outside of their control. Not until they conquered it would they dare move further in-system. No doubt the High Admirals would lay a trap between here and the Kilrah jump point. At least if they had any good sense. Since all of such exalted rank were born from the Council of Eight or the Imperial Pride, inbreeding might have muddled their good judgement.
Very well. If fighting continues on the moon, then the Apes will not even notice the Krasnyk. “Pilot; take us around the planet, maintaining this distance. I want all their ships accounted for before we return to base.”
Two orbits of Munro VI, and a full compliment of six carriers, four of what they call battleships, and the abomination they call an arsenal ship are all accounted for. The first ships spotted were in support of the battle on the moon. The rest of the ships were taking turns dipping into Munro VI’s atmosphere, scooping up fuel. This information would serve System Command well, and with it, perhaps they will unleash the Krasnyk to do what it was intended to do; kill its enemies.
With orbital mechanics as they were, System Command on Munro I was currently behind Munro in respect to Munro VI. M’raq would have to order his ship millions of octomaks away until he can get a clear signal beamed there. His ship was picking up speed, accelerating to cruising speed, when Fire Controller Sshlaka called out.
“Lord Captain, four Terran fighters approaching fast,” Sshlaka informed him. “They will be within missile range momentarily.”
M’raq scowled, bearing his fangs. Fighters? The Apes use four different type of fighters. “Specify! What type of fighters?” Stupid controller. What good was informing him that they were being intercepted, if he did not say by what. If those were four Raptors, then M’raq and his crew were as good as dead.
“Scimitars, Lord Captain.” Sshlaka told him. He then added, “I believe they have launched from the Tennessee River.”
M’raq grinned. Excellent. The Apes were launching their good pilots. He would feel grievously insulted if the Terrans only launched rookies, intending on using his ship for practice. With fighters on his tail, remaining in cruising mode was suicidal. He had no aversion to dying in combat, just at throwing his life away pointless. “Pilot! Take us down to combat speed and begin evasive maneuvers. If those Apes so much as get a lock on me, I’ll have your head.” He did not add lock by imagine recognizing missiles. The FF missiles will lock on to transponders.
He looked over at his second. “Hharras, turn off our transponder.” Hharras complied. There were no fellow Kilrathi outside of the orbit of the fourth planet. Plus, no point in making it any easier for the Apes’s missiles to tag him. FFs were designed to hit anything without a the proper code, but could occasionally be fooled by no code at all. Attempting this maneuver when allies are about would mean his enemies would have trouble tagging him, but all means a friendly fired missile might tag him anyway.
“Sshlaka! When the Apes get within gun range, unleash your gunners. They may fire at their own discretion.” Scimitars were faster at combat speed than his own ship, and would likely overtake them. The Krasnyk had five turrets to defend all its sides, as well as forward facing missile launchers. “If any should pass in front of us, lock on with IR missiles and destroy them.”
“A pleasure, Lord Captain,” Sshlaka pulled back his lips, bearing all his teeth. He was ready to sink them into the throat of any Terran fighter.
As predicted, it took but a moment to be intercepted. His ship rocked as it was suddenly struck. His fiery eyes focused on the pilot. “Report!” Potential or not, he would have his head if a missile struck.
Sshlaka saved the pilot with his words. “Pulse fire from the lead Terran has damaged turret three.”
M’raq was about to snap at his fire controlled, when out the window he saw his ship bank sharply. He felt nothing, for the ships space drive acted on every atom evenly and thus cancelled the feeling acceleration. He spotted one of the Scimitars, its ungainly space drive on top of its wings, shoot past. Flashes of light marked where his own ship’s functioning turrets returned fire. Immediately after the first, the other three followed in quick succession. He watched, and was rewarded with only one clean hit, that dissipated across the Terran’s shields.
The fighters broke off into pairs, making return passes from each side of the Krasnyk. M’raq ordered his ship to bank and turn into the Terran leader. The lead Terran passed over the hull of the Krasnyk, dodging the pulse fire. His wingman was not so lucky; several shots hit the Scimitar, breaking through it forward shields. Sensors detected durasteel vapor as the forward part of the fighter was bathed in plasma. The wounded fighter broke off its attack, but not before looping over and launching a pair of FF missiles. Transponder or not, it was hard to miss at this distance.
Nalkarg banked the corvette again, this time unleashing a stream of decoys behind the ship. Both FFs homed in on the loud transponders trailing the Krasnyk, detonating harmlessly astern of the corvette. Radiation caused by detonating fusion warheads was harmlessly absorbed by the aft shields. All on the bridge cursed the Terran as he returned home. A second fighter broke off to escort his wounded comrade.
The remaining fighters, including the wing commander, continued their attack on the Krasnyk. Pulse fire from the Scimitars targeted the ship’s communication array. M’raq growled his own curse at the Apes. They did not want him reporting home. An invading fleet was not something that one could just hide under the rug. System Commander already knew they were here, and the number of ships. What were the Apes trying to protect? Or were they just being methodical in blacking out information from the Kilrathi defending the moon.
Corvette and fighters danced through the frozen vacuum of deep space. Both traded shots, burning each other’s shields. Not a single Terran missile had yet landed on Krasnyk. The cub was quite the pilot, even if he had not learned to tell the difference between one carrier and another. If he could only say the same about his gunners. Why have they not destroyed these flies. One of the fighters, the leader, made another swoops across the corvette’s hull. Nalkarg pulled the ship up sharply, bringing the underside of the Scimitar across the window.
“I have lock!” Sshlaka howled in triumph.
“Then by all means, destroy him!” M’raq commanded, though it was an order he need not give.
Bloodlust had already claimed the mind of his fire controller. Sshlaka launched not a single missile, but a spread of four IR missiles at the fleeing Terran. It was overkill, and accounting back at System Command will see it as a waste of munitions, but the Ape would not escape. The Scimitar erupted into a blinding flash, blinding even with the window’s tinting, as one missile collapsed the shields, and two slammed into the fighter. A fourth missile passed through the debris, and sought out another identical target. It found it when the dead Terran’s wingman banked to avoid the exploding fighter.
The missile slammed into the belly of the last fighter. Sensors on board the Krasnyk registered a complete shield failure in the Scimitar. Since the ship pulled out of the fight after being hit, and throttled up to cruising speed, M’raq judged it a fair assessment. The bridge crew roared victoriously as the last fighter fled. Destroying ships from a distance forced adrenaline to flow and boiled the captain’s blood. It was not the same as a straight-up fight, like the one he was in when he conquered his Pride. Space combat never satisfied him. Instead, it left him thirsting for more.
“Targets?” he called out, his bloodlust barely in check.
“The other three fighters have retreated. No further attacks have been launched.” The fire controller reported.
The disappointment helped clear the killing instinct from his head. They still had a mission to complete, and intelligence to report. “Very well then,” he said, not bothering to hide his desire to kill more Terrans. “Pilot, accelerate to cruising speed and give me a clear path to System Command. The sooner I deliver this information, the soon I can get back to fighting this war.”