Bridge
Corvette Krasnyk
Munro System
M’raq leaned back in his captain’s chair, eyeing the data before him. A pair of Hornets, the Apes’ own point-defense fighters, flew parallel to his corvette. He glanced over at the pilot on duty. “What are they doing out in the middle of nowhere?” M’raq demanded an answer. Being point-defense, these light fighters should never fly beyond visual range of the ships they are defending. His own sensors showed no enemy carrier in the vicinity. That either meant the fighters were up to something or the Apes had a new and stealthy ship in the system.
Young Nalkarg was learning, though nowhere near as rapidly as his captain desired. “Lord Captain, perhaps the Terran fleet has sortied from the sixth planet? They could be scouts” It was a sensible answer, for the Hornet made a small target to spot.
M’raq disagreed with his sense. “No. They’d use Rapiers for something like that. Or Scimitars.” M’raq mused over his option. He could order a full sensor sweep, but that would require active scanning. The moment the sensor array activated, any Ape in striking distance would spot them against the darkness of space. As long as they remain on passive, background radiation from Munro, and the universe as a whole, would make them harder to detect. Unless the Apes shot a sensor beam directly at them, in which event, the Kilrathi would know precisely where the Apes lay in wait.
Hharras made his own observation. “Lord Captain, the fleet might not have sortied yet, but that does not mean a lone carrier or cruiser is not doing the same job as us.”
M’raq found using such a large ship for scouting to be a waste of firepower. All a carrier would do is draw attention from one of eighty different fortresses and bases scattered around the inner system. An octave of fighters would swarm it. Now a lone corvette—it might slip in unnoticed. That was a task M’raq managed on more than one occasion.
The Hornets sped back towards their home at cruising speed, a sizable fraction of light speed. Krasnyk’s Fire Controller voiced his own opinion, not always the safest action on an Imperial Warship. “Whatever they are, Lord Captain, they are headed somewhere in a hurry.”
M’raq hissed in agreement. “They are. Pilot; match their course and speed. Let’s see what these particular Apes are up to.”
Travelling at over two parts per eighty of the speed of light, the corvette followed its prey back to their own base of operations. Once the base was in sensor range, M’raq ordered a complete stop. He did not fear combating a superior foe, nor dying in battle. He simply saw no reason in charging straight into a Terran strike carrier. M’raq leaned back in his chair and took in the mighty warship. Even from this distance, it was an impressive sight.
“Tell me, pilot, what do you see?” M’raq asked with great patience. He tapped the claws of his forefingers together as he waited.
The pilot cleared his throat as he checked his sensors. “It appears to be one of the new Bengal-class carriers.”
M’raq growled lightly. Of course it was a Bengal-class ship. With its half uncovered flight deck, what else type of ship could it be? It was not a bad idea, having half the deck open to space. There was little worry about fire out there. Warheads could still detonate in the event of a crash landing, but ruptured fuel lines would simply cause the fuel to boil off into the void. Many Kilrathi ships had their decks open to space for that same reason. The technical crew did not enjoy the experience, but so what? Without them maintaining equipment, the ship could not kill Kilrah’s enemies. It is a concept pounded into all recruits. They might turn their noses up at what they consider females’ work, but those who survive basic training soon have that attitude adjusted.
Without order and discipline, a ship’s crew or a division of soldiers would be nothing but a rabble of warriors, all out for their own glory and conquest. He heard the Apes had a saying about dividing and conquering. If the Kilrathi ever found themselves divided, the Apes would surely win. Some high and mighty lords might consider such thoughts treasonous, but when Kilrah is only a jump away from the front lines, the fleet could ill afford division.
“That ship has an enormous amount of firepower,” Sshlaka said with a faint praise. It was healthy to respect a worthy opponent, but one never wanted to admire them. “I can see why it is out here without escorts. It far outweighs a Vanguard in defensive capacities.”
M’raq tapped up what Intel existed on the Bengals at his station. They had more than enough in the way of pulse turrets alone to make short work of his corvette. If he gave the order, his crew would launch the attack, and die in the effort. Getting killed fighting something much larger than oneself without aid did not appeal to M’raq. Perhaps if he had another two eights of corvettes with him, each carrying a full complement of weapons, then he might try. For now, he was more interested in what the ship was doing this far from Munro VI.
“When did the ship arrive?” The Terrans have slowly been building their fleet in the system for most of the Kahrik. One thing was certain; this ship was not as Munro VI the last time M’raq paid the planet a call. System HQ would want to know about this ship.
“Begging the Lord Captain’s pardon,” his exec answered. “The only way to know would be to ask.”
M’raq curled his lips. Not in annoyance, but in expectation. “Then that is what we should do.”
The crew of the Krasnyk patiently observed several more flights of Hornets during their vigil outside of detection range. All scanning occurred with passive sensors. Since the Apes appeared very bright on those sensors, they clearly had no idea they were being watched. Or they simply did not care. M’raq found it difficult to believe the ship’s captain would be so foolish as to have his fighters running active sensors. Perhaps that was why the carrier was so quiet. The Hornets were to be the eyes. They were small enough to escape notice.
The only flaw in this plan was that any Kilrathi captain worth his rank and Pride would have asked the same question as M’raq: why are point-defense fighters out in the middle of nowhere? That was not to say the Imperial Navy had not its share of fools. Not only were those fighters bright, they were also loud. The carrier did a fair job at radio silence, but M’raq listened into the transmissions of the fighters. Since he was the only one on board who knew any of the Apes’ common language, he commandeered the Communication Officer’s headset. The officer objected, but a harsh word and back of his paw silenced the complaint.
M’raq waited for the right word to strike. The right moment would be when the fighters were furthest from their carrier, The Krasnyk would sweep in, disable the leader of the two-pilot flight, and tractor him in for questioning. The Apes made strong fighters, but they were also soft when it came to safety. Many fighters had automatic ejection systems, ejecting the pilot when the fighter lost power. Few Kilrathi fighters designed even bothered with ejection capsules. M’raq could see the point in saving a skilled and veteran pilot, but why waste the effort on an inept rookie. There were plenty of males in the Empire to replace him.
A logical plan of attack would be to strike the lead fighter. That was how Kilrathi fought; the leader from the front. However, the Apes often put the junior pilot in the lead. Perhaps for him to gain experience. It complicated matters in that a junior pilot would have little of value for Intel. As long as the Apes continued to use call signs instead of ranks, M’raq and his crew would wait.
His patience paid off when he heard the word ‘commander’. It was a medium rank in the Confederation Navy, and high for a pilot. Perhaps this one was the squadron commander. He would have some need-to-know. “Which ship made that last transmission?”
His Communication Officer might not be able to hear the conversations, but he can track their points of origin. On the main screen, he illuminated the lead fighter. M’raq stretched his hands, each claw coming to full extension. “Ignore that one, Sshlaka. Disable the tail fighter.”
Sshlaka’s voice betrayed a slight disappointment. “Ignore it, Lord Captain?”
M’raq sighed in feigned annoyance. “I want the tail fighter’s pilot alive. I don’t care about the other one.”
Sshlaka growled in delight at the prospect of a fresh kill, as did the rest of the bridge crew. “As you command.”
His gunners wasted little time in opening up on the Terran fighters. All three spacecraft darted through the system at cruising speed. The Hornets were faster, and if their pilots had nerve, could eventually outrun the Krasnyk. Even if they poured everything they had into their engines, it would take time. In the meanwhile, the Kilrathi corvette would continue firing pulse cannons at the fighters. While it might not be a speed-of-light weapon like lasers, plasma still travelled far faster than the fighters. If the Apes did not slow down to evade, eventually enough plasma would intercept them to destroy them.
Both Hornets were quick to slow to combat speed. It was far slower than cruising, but while at cruising speed, ships were locked in a straight trajectory. It was one of the few grounds that Kilrathi and Terran shared in common. The Krasnyk slowed to match their speed, or at least attempt the task. Light fighters could fly circles around a corvette, which one of the pilots was doing. The second pilot, the one M’raq had tagged as a junior, was less able in his piloting. He must be a replacement, somebody who knows nothing about the carrier’s operations.
The youth would never get the chance to perfect his piloting skill. Sshlaka’s superior gunnery punctured the fighter’s shields, and vaporized half the craft. The rest of it exploded in a blinding flash. The gunner quickly turned his attention back to the veteran pilot. What honor was there in killing a foe who knew not what to do with his own weapon? M’raq could see none. As for the other fighter pilot, he would make a worthy kill.
M’raq snarled several curses at his own pilot, who could not hope to match a Hornet. He hurled more curses at Sshlaka for taking too long to disable the fighter. If not for wanting its pilot alive, he would have ordered missiles to be unleashed. No doubt he would have heard an earful from some supply officer about expending them on something so small.
When alarms began to blare, M’raq ratcheted up his cursing. “Nalkarg, you worthless spawn of a pauper, how did you let that Ape get behind us?”
Nalkarg made no response. Instead, at the urging of his captain, he altered his tactics. Instead of trying to evade incoming fire, which a corvette had little hope of doing, he slammed on the ships brakes. Inertial compensators strained at the sudden move, and all the crew cursed him as they lurched forward. All except Sshlaka, who watched as the Hornet over shot them and came into sight of multiple guns. He unleashes several barrages, dangerously depleting their capacitors.
As plasma hit the Hornet, the fighter lurched and stumbled out of control. M’raq’s rage simmered as he watched the fighter roll through space like a boulder downhill. He had the momentary distressing thought that the Ape might not eject. Some of the more worthy foes among Terran fighters would sooner go up with their ship, and maybe take their enemy with them, instead of ejecting in the face of certain capture.
The front end of the fighter suddenly exploded. M’raq tracked a section shoot away from the disabled fighter. M’raq roared in triumph as the fighter suffered a complete power failure. Though he had not forgotten the stumbling of his crew during the fight, his spirits were now higher. “Tractor him in for questioning. Hharras, see to matters here.” M’raq pushed himself from his chair and made his way to the docking port to make certain his fired up crew did not kill the Ape before he could be delivered to the proper authorities.