End of Worlds
Chapter 4
Bridge
TCS Absolution
Near Mandarin Asteroid
“We have incoming fire,” declared Lieutenant Warren “Cat Killer” Catskill, one of Absolution’s defensive system’s operators.
Captain Maxwell Powers, veteran of more engagements than he cared to admit, looked down at his own briefing console. The small monitor built into the captain chair’s armrest was a bare-bones system, giving him only the general status of his ship. Other systems crowded into Abby’s bridge. Though she were a large, albeit old, battleship, her bridge looked as crammed as the cockpit of a corvette. During the last refit, Confed crammed enough new systems inside this ship to require a fifty percent increase in bridge crew.
As he expected, he saw no damage on his only little console. He glanced over at the short-haired– almost bald brown head of Catskill. “Give me a damage report, Killer.”
“None, captain,” Catskill reported. “The Mandarins are firing their point-defense cannons at us; won’t even penetrate our shields, much less our hull. Could pose a threat to fighters and shuttles.”
Powers scowled. Of course they are a threat to the shuttles. That was why we were here to begin with; to soften up this rock for invasion.
Rock was a very apt description of their target. On the bridge’s main viewer– for only a fool would put a window on such a vital part of the ship– a three kilometer by two asteroid floated in the dead of space before them. The image was real time and to scale, but even at this close a distance, he could not see any man-made, or Cat-made, structures upon the rock. If not for the incoming fire, he would never have guessed it was inhabited.
“A powerfully pitiful display of firepower, if you ask me,” commented Abby’s XO, Commander Mindalo Bruce. She was the same age as Powers, but nowhere near as veteran. Bruce spent most of her career in the Vega Sector, all of which was after the campaigns of the early war had ended. She saw her own share of engagements, but mostly of small ships and fighters raiding across the frontline.
Powers smirked at the comment, which was as close to a smile as he would ever like come. “One might think the Cats don’t trust their pets with proper weapons.” Bruce’s scowl was even more fierce then the endlessly angry Powers. He did not fault her for that. Anyone who grew up on the wrong side of the front back in the 2640s, was likely to have a very negative view on humans who willingly served the Kilrathi. She was born and raised on McAuliffe VI, a planet that saw some of the ugliest ground fighting of the whole war.
A young, fresh-faced ensign, who could not have been more than twenty glanced back at the XO. “Gemini is in place.”
“About time,” Powers muttered. “Very well, patch our systems into their’s.” It was an order that Powers resented, tying his own ship’s systems into the smaller, lighter flagship. Sure, Gemini was only twenty-some-odd years old, but Abby was always intended to be a flagship.
“Incoming– fighters,” called out Catskill.
Powers instantly hit on the hesitation. “Problems Killer?”
Catskill shook his head in confusion. “The Kaitan detected objects rising from the asteroid; too large to be missiles, but—“
Powers slammed his fist down on his armrest. “I have no patience for buts, Lieutenant! If you have something to say, then say it!”
“Captain, Kaitan can’t identify them, nor can Gemini. They are fighters, but they aren’t Kilrathi and do show up on the flagship’s database.” Catskill was an excellent defensive operator, as long as he did not run into anything new. If that happened– he would waste several minutes trying to figure it out.
“Let me see,” Powers barked. On his only minute console, the image of old, yet sleek looking daggers shot out from what must be the asteroid’s shuttle bay. He almost laughed at the sight of these fighters. Almost. Laughter was an action of Powers’s past. “No wonder,” he muttered.
“Captain?” Catskill asked uncertainly.
“Comm! Tell Harris to check out database.” Powers ordered.
Bruce glanced over his shoulders and snorted. “Firecats. No wonder Gemini can’t recognize them.” Powers had to agree. The Firecats saw frontline action briefly at the start of the war, and in truth, Powers considered them obsolete before 2634. The Kilrathi certainly proved that. However, they proved not so adept at adapting. Their technology changed little in the way of design, as one could testify when comparing pre-war Dralthis to those of 2669. Until they picked a fight with humanity, the Cats never had to upgrade during a war; the conquest was done before the need ever arose.
Like a good spaceman, Powers waited for the order to fire, never mind the fact Abby could obliterate this asteroid’s point defenses with minimal effort. Instead, the Commodore, in his infinite wisdom, has apparently decided to close within a kilometer of the rock. Terrific. If, by some fluke, the asteroid were to blow up, they would have to pour on the hydrogen and meltdown the fusion stacks just to prevent from colliding with a chunk of– he checked the sensor readout in his console– chunks of silicates the size of his own ship.
“Destroyers have launched their Arrows,” called out one of the tactical officers, a young man from Hilo System whose name escaped him. Arrows should be more than a match for fighters so obsolete that not even the Landreich still uses them. Much at any rate.
The Comm officer’s voice caught the Captain’s attention again. “Task force in place, we are cleared to fire.”
Powers thought it oh so gracious of the Commodore to give permission to fire, but refrained from making a sarcastic remark. The crew can not be allowed to see lack of confidence, even if in jest. Anger, annoyance and eternally pissed off, yes, but never lack of confidence. Powers reclined in his seat as far as he could, and tapped the tips of his fingers together. He took his eyes away from his console and looked out the main viewer at the asteroid. Ever so calmly, a refreshing change of pace, Powers gave the word. “Very well, target their defenses and destroy them.” There was no cheers of victory as the Mandarin defenses were systematically destroyed. They were all professionals, and after a lifetime at war, it was nothing worth hooting about.
Mandarin Asteroid
Granita System
Lieutenant Colonel Brenell Zollern stepped over the wreckage that was once a bulkhead. He and his contingent of Marines were less than careful when forcing their way into the Mandarin’s hideout. As far as any of them were concerned, these Cat lovers deserved far worse. As was, Zollern would leave the asteroid without much in the way of atmosphere. The asteroid’s own internal systems erected atmospheric curtains after Abby’s Marines blasted their way into outpost.
Zollern swept the hallway with the barrel of his shotgun. It was not the standard small arms of the T.C.M.C.. The rest of his boarding party carried the typical plasma rifle, with ammunition hot enough to sear flesh and E-suits, but not strong enough to punch through durasteel walls. His own weapons was far less conventional. He toted shells packed with nano-filament mesh. Unlike bolts of plasma, these would go through walls. The pellets, a pair of them connecting a mono-molecular wire, would tear through the molecular structure of anything they touched. There were extremely dangerous, and less-than-legal according to Confed’s regs.
He would get away with it, Zollern had no doubt. As long as they were not fired on board the Absolution, then cranky old Powers could not complain. And if these shots tore up a few Mandarins– well, nobody would miss those traitors. He just had to make sure none of his own men stepped into his line of sight. There were easy enough to see; all Marines wore bulky gray combat environmental suits, strong enough to deflect one or two plasma shots. Mono-molecular shot would sever those molecules the same as any.
Much to his disappointment, the Head of Security was not at the head of the attack. He could hear firing up ahead, through the diminished atmosphere. He rushed up to the small front established in the asteroid’s halls. It was a far cry form the front on Repleetah, but then again, everything was a far cry from that hell hole. Zollern had not lost any of his edge. He hugs the walls as he inched forward to the fighting. He stuck his head around the corner briefly, long enough to see blue-hot bolts fly out from his own Marines. Three of them did their best to pin down the Mandarins.
Zollern spotted his first Mandarin, only after stepping over the charred corpse. The man was lightly armed with a pistol– as closer inspection it appeared to be an old slug-thrower. Scans of the rock indicated less than a hundred defenders. If they were all so poorly armed, overwhelming them should be simple. The dead Mandarin still had a breather upon his face. It would not save them from vacuum, but it would allow them to function in a reduced atmosphere. Perhaps he should just order the place opened to space. It would make his work easier.
All Confed personnel had priority orders to uncover any Intel about the Life-Eater Virus possible. Since it killed all humans, and the Mandarins were humans– at least biologically speaking, it was reasoned that the Cats would have protected their pets somehow. At least the brass was convinced as such. Zollern was less than convinced. Some Cats, like the smaller Prides, could be loyal. The Imperial Pride– they ruled through strength and disposed of anything that was of no use to them. He remembered what Ghorah Khar looked like after it broke away from the Empire.
Zollern stuck the barrel of his own weapon around the corner, and less loose a couple of rounds into the Mandarin’s defenses. The nano-sized weapons uncoiled and caught two defending Mandarins in its cone. Zollern did not keep his head around the corner long enough to watch the devastation. He did not need to. Unlike many of his Marines, he was already witness as to what mono-molecules could do to a man.
Marines rushed past him, filling the gap in Mandarin lines that Zollern opened. He watched the progress of the battle on the HUD within his helmet. Marines easily brushed aside the light defense, forcing the Mandarins into flight. Since they did not stand and fight as hard as they should, Zollern was beginning to doubt anything of use was on this rock. Zollern did his best to command the battle, sending Marines down which corridors he could see gaps. Many of the rooms he had bypassed. They were either currently unoccupied, or not worth the effort. The conquest of this asteroid was a short affair, taking less than a half-hour.
“Colonel!” Zollern heard the voice in his helmet’s radio.
“Yes? Report,” Zollern snapped out the command. His HUD had the caller pegged as a Sergeant Shilling, and he was reporting from a hub on his map.
“Colonel, we found the Mandarin’s mainframe. The Cat lovers tried to blow it.” Zollern did not need to ask what happened to them. His Marines would terminate any and all opposition.
He also knew that Shilling would not radio unless there was an issue. “Damage?”
There was a brief pause, probably as the Sergeant spoke with the ground pounders around him. “The mainframe is in one piece, but one of those damned Mandarins must have ran a magnet over it. The system’s scrambled, and it’d take more time than we have to spare to fix it.”
Zollern muttered under his breath. Things were never easy. Still– they captured it without a lose of life, and only a few casualties. “Very well. Gather up some men and take it back to the shuttle. Make sure you have whatever demolition experts with you sweep the mainframe first.” The last thing they needed was for the Mandarins to get cute and plant a bomb inside the thing.
“Yes sir,” Shillings signed off, his voice containing the same thoughts as were in Zollern’s heads. This was an easy mission. A little too easy.
Chapter 4
Bridge
TCS Absolution
Near Mandarin Asteroid
“We have incoming fire,” declared Lieutenant Warren “Cat Killer” Catskill, one of Absolution’s defensive system’s operators.
Captain Maxwell Powers, veteran of more engagements than he cared to admit, looked down at his own briefing console. The small monitor built into the captain chair’s armrest was a bare-bones system, giving him only the general status of his ship. Other systems crowded into Abby’s bridge. Though she were a large, albeit old, battleship, her bridge looked as crammed as the cockpit of a corvette. During the last refit, Confed crammed enough new systems inside this ship to require a fifty percent increase in bridge crew.
As he expected, he saw no damage on his only little console. He glanced over at the short-haired– almost bald brown head of Catskill. “Give me a damage report, Killer.”
“None, captain,” Catskill reported. “The Mandarins are firing their point-defense cannons at us; won’t even penetrate our shields, much less our hull. Could pose a threat to fighters and shuttles.”
Powers scowled. Of course they are a threat to the shuttles. That was why we were here to begin with; to soften up this rock for invasion.
Rock was a very apt description of their target. On the bridge’s main viewer– for only a fool would put a window on such a vital part of the ship– a three kilometer by two asteroid floated in the dead of space before them. The image was real time and to scale, but even at this close a distance, he could not see any man-made, or Cat-made, structures upon the rock. If not for the incoming fire, he would never have guessed it was inhabited.
“A powerfully pitiful display of firepower, if you ask me,” commented Abby’s XO, Commander Mindalo Bruce. She was the same age as Powers, but nowhere near as veteran. Bruce spent most of her career in the Vega Sector, all of which was after the campaigns of the early war had ended. She saw her own share of engagements, but mostly of small ships and fighters raiding across the frontline.
Powers smirked at the comment, which was as close to a smile as he would ever like come. “One might think the Cats don’t trust their pets with proper weapons.” Bruce’s scowl was even more fierce then the endlessly angry Powers. He did not fault her for that. Anyone who grew up on the wrong side of the front back in the 2640s, was likely to have a very negative view on humans who willingly served the Kilrathi. She was born and raised on McAuliffe VI, a planet that saw some of the ugliest ground fighting of the whole war.
A young, fresh-faced ensign, who could not have been more than twenty glanced back at the XO. “Gemini is in place.”
“About time,” Powers muttered. “Very well, patch our systems into their’s.” It was an order that Powers resented, tying his own ship’s systems into the smaller, lighter flagship. Sure, Gemini was only twenty-some-odd years old, but Abby was always intended to be a flagship.
“Incoming– fighters,” called out Catskill.
Powers instantly hit on the hesitation. “Problems Killer?”
Catskill shook his head in confusion. “The Kaitan detected objects rising from the asteroid; too large to be missiles, but—“
Powers slammed his fist down on his armrest. “I have no patience for buts, Lieutenant! If you have something to say, then say it!”
“Captain, Kaitan can’t identify them, nor can Gemini. They are fighters, but they aren’t Kilrathi and do show up on the flagship’s database.” Catskill was an excellent defensive operator, as long as he did not run into anything new. If that happened– he would waste several minutes trying to figure it out.
“Let me see,” Powers barked. On his only minute console, the image of old, yet sleek looking daggers shot out from what must be the asteroid’s shuttle bay. He almost laughed at the sight of these fighters. Almost. Laughter was an action of Powers’s past. “No wonder,” he muttered.
“Captain?” Catskill asked uncertainly.
“Comm! Tell Harris to check out database.” Powers ordered.
Bruce glanced over his shoulders and snorted. “Firecats. No wonder Gemini can’t recognize them.” Powers had to agree. The Firecats saw frontline action briefly at the start of the war, and in truth, Powers considered them obsolete before 2634. The Kilrathi certainly proved that. However, they proved not so adept at adapting. Their technology changed little in the way of design, as one could testify when comparing pre-war Dralthis to those of 2669. Until they picked a fight with humanity, the Cats never had to upgrade during a war; the conquest was done before the need ever arose.
Like a good spaceman, Powers waited for the order to fire, never mind the fact Abby could obliterate this asteroid’s point defenses with minimal effort. Instead, the Commodore, in his infinite wisdom, has apparently decided to close within a kilometer of the rock. Terrific. If, by some fluke, the asteroid were to blow up, they would have to pour on the hydrogen and meltdown the fusion stacks just to prevent from colliding with a chunk of– he checked the sensor readout in his console– chunks of silicates the size of his own ship.
“Destroyers have launched their Arrows,” called out one of the tactical officers, a young man from Hilo System whose name escaped him. Arrows should be more than a match for fighters so obsolete that not even the Landreich still uses them. Much at any rate.
The Comm officer’s voice caught the Captain’s attention again. “Task force in place, we are cleared to fire.”
Powers thought it oh so gracious of the Commodore to give permission to fire, but refrained from making a sarcastic remark. The crew can not be allowed to see lack of confidence, even if in jest. Anger, annoyance and eternally pissed off, yes, but never lack of confidence. Powers reclined in his seat as far as he could, and tapped the tips of his fingers together. He took his eyes away from his console and looked out the main viewer at the asteroid. Ever so calmly, a refreshing change of pace, Powers gave the word. “Very well, target their defenses and destroy them.” There was no cheers of victory as the Mandarin defenses were systematically destroyed. They were all professionals, and after a lifetime at war, it was nothing worth hooting about.
Mandarin Asteroid
Granita System
Lieutenant Colonel Brenell Zollern stepped over the wreckage that was once a bulkhead. He and his contingent of Marines were less than careful when forcing their way into the Mandarin’s hideout. As far as any of them were concerned, these Cat lovers deserved far worse. As was, Zollern would leave the asteroid without much in the way of atmosphere. The asteroid’s own internal systems erected atmospheric curtains after Abby’s Marines blasted their way into outpost.
Zollern swept the hallway with the barrel of his shotgun. It was not the standard small arms of the T.C.M.C.. The rest of his boarding party carried the typical plasma rifle, with ammunition hot enough to sear flesh and E-suits, but not strong enough to punch through durasteel walls. His own weapons was far less conventional. He toted shells packed with nano-filament mesh. Unlike bolts of plasma, these would go through walls. The pellets, a pair of them connecting a mono-molecular wire, would tear through the molecular structure of anything they touched. There were extremely dangerous, and less-than-legal according to Confed’s regs.
He would get away with it, Zollern had no doubt. As long as they were not fired on board the Absolution, then cranky old Powers could not complain. And if these shots tore up a few Mandarins– well, nobody would miss those traitors. He just had to make sure none of his own men stepped into his line of sight. There were easy enough to see; all Marines wore bulky gray combat environmental suits, strong enough to deflect one or two plasma shots. Mono-molecular shot would sever those molecules the same as any.
Much to his disappointment, the Head of Security was not at the head of the attack. He could hear firing up ahead, through the diminished atmosphere. He rushed up to the small front established in the asteroid’s halls. It was a far cry form the front on Repleetah, but then again, everything was a far cry from that hell hole. Zollern had not lost any of his edge. He hugs the walls as he inched forward to the fighting. He stuck his head around the corner briefly, long enough to see blue-hot bolts fly out from his own Marines. Three of them did their best to pin down the Mandarins.
Zollern spotted his first Mandarin, only after stepping over the charred corpse. The man was lightly armed with a pistol– as closer inspection it appeared to be an old slug-thrower. Scans of the rock indicated less than a hundred defenders. If they were all so poorly armed, overwhelming them should be simple. The dead Mandarin still had a breather upon his face. It would not save them from vacuum, but it would allow them to function in a reduced atmosphere. Perhaps he should just order the place opened to space. It would make his work easier.
All Confed personnel had priority orders to uncover any Intel about the Life-Eater Virus possible. Since it killed all humans, and the Mandarins were humans– at least biologically speaking, it was reasoned that the Cats would have protected their pets somehow. At least the brass was convinced as such. Zollern was less than convinced. Some Cats, like the smaller Prides, could be loyal. The Imperial Pride– they ruled through strength and disposed of anything that was of no use to them. He remembered what Ghorah Khar looked like after it broke away from the Empire.
Zollern stuck the barrel of his own weapon around the corner, and less loose a couple of rounds into the Mandarin’s defenses. The nano-sized weapons uncoiled and caught two defending Mandarins in its cone. Zollern did not keep his head around the corner long enough to watch the devastation. He did not need to. Unlike many of his Marines, he was already witness as to what mono-molecules could do to a man.
Marines rushed past him, filling the gap in Mandarin lines that Zollern opened. He watched the progress of the battle on the HUD within his helmet. Marines easily brushed aside the light defense, forcing the Mandarins into flight. Since they did not stand and fight as hard as they should, Zollern was beginning to doubt anything of use was on this rock. Zollern did his best to command the battle, sending Marines down which corridors he could see gaps. Many of the rooms he had bypassed. They were either currently unoccupied, or not worth the effort. The conquest of this asteroid was a short affair, taking less than a half-hour.
“Colonel!” Zollern heard the voice in his helmet’s radio.
“Yes? Report,” Zollern snapped out the command. His HUD had the caller pegged as a Sergeant Shilling, and he was reporting from a hub on his map.
“Colonel, we found the Mandarin’s mainframe. The Cat lovers tried to blow it.” Zollern did not need to ask what happened to them. His Marines would terminate any and all opposition.
He also knew that Shilling would not radio unless there was an issue. “Damage?”
There was a brief pause, probably as the Sergeant spoke with the ground pounders around him. “The mainframe is in one piece, but one of those damned Mandarins must have ran a magnet over it. The system’s scrambled, and it’d take more time than we have to spare to fix it.”
Zollern muttered under his breath. Things were never easy. Still– they captured it without a lose of life, and only a few casualties. “Very well. Gather up some men and take it back to the shuttle. Make sure you have whatever demolition experts with you sweep the mainframe first.” The last thing they needed was for the Mandarins to get cute and plant a bomb inside the thing.
“Yes sir,” Shillings signed off, his voice containing the same thoughts as were in Zollern’s heads. This was an easy mission. A little too easy.