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The Gyst - Chapter 7 Undamaged units of Home Fleet, along with a freshly laid belt of buoys and mines, kept watch over a warp point that lead further into Bhohim space. Admiral Lysaan was still getting use to his new CIC station…. correction, his temporary CIC station on the battleship Lord Firestorm. His flagship, the Lord Skylar, was heavily damaged in the successful assault on the Bhohim Horde system last month. Accompanying the Skylar in Horde orbit was 40% of the Home Fleet. Repair ships were patching up the least damaged units first so that they could join the rest of the fleet in guarding the outgoing warp point. Lysaan was thankful that the Skylar wasn’t destroyed, but had it been then it would’ve been a small price to pay if it meant the King was safe. In a move that surprised everyone King Kysjyt arrived at the Silverware system one month after its liberation. After knighting several officers and ratings for exemplary conduct Kysjyt selected the Skylar to be his flagship. From there the fleet kept to a brisk pace, brushing aside light defenses and SSF frigate squadrons running for home until reaching Gable, the only inhabited Kingdom system still occupied by the Enclave. The small bases guarding the warp point were blown away by x-ray laser armed ships, though the BC Torchwood exploded due to a containment failure of its detonation chamber. After subduing SSF occupation troops on Gable the next target for Home Fleet was Wallet, the Bhohim system bordering Gable. Despite its location Wallet had only small bases, one asteroid fort, and no warships to guard its warp point to Gable. The eight Wallet lunar colonies were captured at leisure as the Home Fleet prepared to invade Horde. With a colonized habitable world the Horde system was very well defended. While only half the number found at Wallet all the Horde warp point bases were the larger type 4s and modernized. A heavy probe by Home Fleet also showed a fair number of corvettes and frigates. The number of buoys, some 640, posed a problem. In order to spare the larger ships for combat against the defenders it was necessary to dilute the buoys’ fire. With a heavy heart King Kysjyt permitted Lysaan to send in the available sixty Flare class ships in a mass transit. Two Pyzsa troopships, with minimal crew onboard, would also participate in the first wave albeit in a normal transit pattern. Depending on the pressure felt by the defending commander those 28 assault shuttles carried by the Pyzsas would whittle away at the laser buoys, giving each new assault wave a better chance to keep more of their armor. Again the x-ray laser armed ships proved decisive in destroying the beam-armed BS4s. While doing so a surprise in the form of six battleships appeared. Just outside of definitive standard scanner range of the warp point the ships were first identified from their drive fields as battlecruisers. Joining the six battleships were 32 assault shuttles, launched from a pair of undersized BS2s. At close range the ships not only employed energy beams but also a new weapon that shot packets of high-energy plasma. It was here that the Skylar, emerging in the fifth wave, was badly damaged. Thanks to the Flares and the Pyzsa shuttles the buoy menace was reduced. More buoys would’ve been killed but the Bhohim shuttles had engaged their opposite in clumsy dogfights, filling the space around the warp point with boils of light as shuttles died. Then, when enough ships had transited into Horde the minefield was breached, taking the last few Flares in the process. As it was at Gold, the Bucklers plowed straight for the nearest set of capital missile bases, taking their volleys in stride. Then, at point blank range and immune, the Bucklers used their primaries to remove the bases’ weapons. Always on the short end of getting new ships, the depleted Bhohim mobile force was given such a pasting that it fled. Spinal laser armed DDs chased the missile-armed BCs and CLs to destruction, making Lysaan’s victory complete. So it was a month of forced inactivity as Home Fleet set upon repairing its damage and waiting for more new ships to arrive. Lysaan was in the CIC running simulations when the alarm went off. “It’s just an enemy courier drone, no ships. The drone is also not moving away from the warp point,” announced a sensor tech. “It’s broadcasting a message. Translation is working on it.” “Have
the results sent to my terminal,” Lysaan ordered. If they were attempting to send a message
to Horde Prime then there should’ve been far more
drones involved, not just one, he thought. I wonder if this is another panicked call
by an off-world landowner sending instructions to
his retainers. “Aye, Sir. Sending the preliminary results now.” Lysaan’s antennae flexed in a manner indicating curiosity as he read the scrawl on his main terminal. “Now this is interesting. Interesting enough to bring to the King’s attention immediately.” The message received by Home Fleet was that of parlay. No less than Peso, the Magistrate of Budgeting and second most powerful position in the Magisterial Council, had arrived to negotiate a peace treaty. Kysjyt, after reading the request and consulting Lysaan, replied with a courier drone of his own. The terms of the meeting arrangements were entirely at Kysjyt’s discretion. Peso was allowed to enter the system in a frigate or smaller vessel without long-range scanners. Said shields on the ship had to be down in order to confirm to absence of long-range scanners. Failure to comply would result in the destruction of the ship instantly. A shuttle will dock with the ship and transport Peso and four of his assistants to the Firestorm. Peso had four hours to comply with those and other conditions made by Kysjyt otherwise it would signify that the Bhohim intended to continue the war. Two hours later a single Glass Jaw escort entered the Horde system. What it could see was three Lord class BBs at the 4 LS mark on its scanners. Beyond that at the 7 LS mark there was several unidentified contacts. For all that Peso knew those ships could’ve been battleships or frigates. Either way there wasn’t a hope in debtors’ hell in stopping even a small assault if Kysjyt was so inclined, the SSF having been stretched beyond the breaking point. Thirty minutes later saw Peso and his entourage in the briefing room of the Lord Firestorm. He remained standing as Kysjyt and his entourage entered, taking their stations as the king sat upon the plain saddle-like chair like it was a throne. A man who knew his metal, Peso was in awe of the king’s platinum armguards, diamond-laced gold crown and a scepter topped with a fist-sized diamond. He had just one ring, but it was large and thick, complete with what had to be a tiny royal seal affixed to it. An audible tone warbled for a moment in the room, followed by the translated speech of the king. “Take your seats, gentlemen,” he said in Bhohim with a forceful accent. That was, no doubt, intentional. “Magistrate Peso, I can only conclude that your presence here means that the Enclave is serious about forming a peace between our two nations. As the ones making the request, what are the terms and conditions are you seeking to earn this peace?” Peso
had dreaded this moment the day he set out to the
Horde system. Three ships had burnt out their drives
going at max speed to get him here so soon. He had
anticipated negotiating with an admiral or a royal
relation, but not the king himself. There would now be
no weeks of delay to confer with the homeworld, no
respite with which to strengthen defenses opposite the
Horde warp point. He now had to go with the primary
plan. “King Kysjyt of the For months this was what Kysjyt had been waiting to happen. After the loss of Gold, which clearly was a major system like Vault, and the rapid recovery of Gyst territory it was in the best interest for the Magistrates to sue for peace as quickly as possible. The Enclave had to go back into a wealth generating mode soon or risk an upheaval of public dissention. The King was perfectly willing to continue on until the whole of the Enclave was conquered, but now it was clear that with the Horde system captured a definite line was crossed. At this point he decided to test Peso’s sincerity. “That would be a welcomed outcome for all, but I wonder. You are, after all, just one voice on your council. What is to say that your fellows left you here to distract me while your Space Security Force regroups and comes with all guns blazing?” Peso’s antennae twitched. “My presence here is a concrete sign of sincerity, Sire. If the original stipulation for peace is agreed upon then the Chief Magistrate will resign and I will become the leader of the Council. He has signed a document to that fact and had it witnessed by the Council.” With a snap of the fingers Peso had one of his assistants produce a scroll from a briefcase. Kysjyt in turn had one of his bodyguards take the document to an aide to go over. Minutes passed before the aide indicated to his king that the document appeared genuine. “So, to be perfectly clear,” Kysjyt said like he was reviewing a new vehicle leasing agreement, “you’re asking that I take the five systems in question as the price your nation is willing to pay for peace. In return the leader that declared war on my kingdom will step down and you’ll take his place. Is that correct?” “That is correct, King Kysjyt.” A Fendalen’s face is capable of expressing a smile, but Kysjyt kept his from showing. It was clear that the Bhohim, or at the very least the Magistrates, were going to overlook the fact that he provoked them into war in the first place. The fiction about Bhohim raiders would be accepted as fact in the official histories, and it wouldn’t surprise Kysjyt if the Magistrates came up with some fiction of their own to save face as well for the sake of consistency. The war will end as it should, with the Kingdom acknowledged as the victor. Now the king could feel confident that the border and relations with the Enclave would remain secure for years to come. “Magistrate Peso,” the king said finally, “I’m quite pleased that we’ve reached an understanding. You can go home knowing that you’ve achieved your goal. You can also tell your fellow council members that an offer to a trade treaty is available. The wealth generated by trade can go a long way in salving losses incurred by the war.” Peso’s tone was that of thankfulness. “Yes it would, King Kysjyt. Let’s start on the fine particulars of the peace treaty. Firstly, in the manner of repatriation of prisoners of war…”
Princess Hysyth served as the Viceroy of the Gold system for two years, during which the Bhohim population came to accept their new governance at the hands of the Kingdom. Seeking a way to maintain the societal status quo on Gold and on other conquered Bhohim worlds a new ruling elite was created. Instead of magistrates the planetary ruling bodies would be composed of counts. In the hierarchy of Fendalen nobility a count was under a baron and was either a very wealthy person or one that has earned the favor of a planetary governor, usually a duke or arch duke. A count also gained a small estate and a royal yearly allowance. The title was not hereditary and could be taken away without appeal; however they could keep their estates if they’re able to do so. A count could attend the court of the king and petition him for an audience. After Hysyth stepped down one of her siblings, Cyern, arrived to start a four-year stint as royal governor of Gold. This posting of royal offspring to Gold’s governorship became a tradition in the Gyst family. Following the war the Royal Navy underwent reorganization. The Home and Frontier Fleets were disbanded and reformed into new fleets designated Knight Brigades. Each sector of the Kingdom was assigned a fleet and new infrastructure was developed. Large stockpiles of prefabricated base components, mines and buoys were stored at key locations in these sectors to ensure rapid access in times of war. Among the new technology developed in the interim was the strikefighter. The battle for Horde sparked the imagination of an R&D team when it reviewed the assault shuttle dogfights. How much better, they thought, if the shuttles could carry weapons capable of damaging ships as well as destroying opposing shuttles much more efficiently. Kysjyt shared their opinion and assigned royal funding to project over the objection of the RN Budget Oversight Committee. When the project came to fruition it took Kysjyt’s pen again to overcome the RNBOC’s reluctance to fund the construction of meaningful numbers of carriers. Prince Sajel, Kysjyt’s sixth child, became a strikefighter pilot and promoted the new weapon system relentlessly wherever he visited. Soon a cadre of carrier advocates was formed and it was here that the first carrier commanders were chosen. The Kingdom continued with its prudent exploration and colonization program after the war. Over the course of seven years four more races were discovered. The husky bipedal Jallet were at the bronze-age level of technology with the dominant culture unabashedly hedonistic. It was ridiculously easy to get them to agree to a trade treaty. Next were the inquisitive lemur-like Xentel, a race just establishing a foothold in space. An offer to trade was accepted as well as a counter offer of military assistance. Further along were the Whumps, a six-legged centaur super-terrestoid race that had managed to establish an outpost on their moon by use of crude chemical rockets. The Whumps proved to be a very useful addition to the Kingdom since they could settle the few ST worlds found without penalty and exploit them far better than Fendalens. With the signing of a trade and military assistance pact a science outpost was established on Whump Prime to bring the race up the technical standard of the Kingdom. As for the finalist of the quartet it proved to be a strange experience for everyone involved. For having a habitable world alone marked the system as one of interest. The race of beings on the third planet, called Simians, had nuclear technology and had, like the Whumps, emplaced an outpost on their homeworld’s moon. After establishing contact and learning the language the Simians invited an advanced team to the capital to meet with the leader, called Law Giver. For some reason or other this Law Giver was a mostly hairless, overweight female of the race. Some team members came to believe that she wasn’t a Simian at all but an alien, but that was just a minor mystery compared to what happened next. Treated to a dinner the team was then beset upon by the Law Giver’s second in command, Bobo. Having awoken from a self-proclaimed suspended animation experiment, and uninformed what had transpired for the past month, Bobo was completely surprised and alarmed by the team’s presence. Screaming something to the effect of ‘giant mantis invasion’ Bobo threw whatever he could get his hands on at the team, including, at the end, his own waste. It won’t have been a complete loss had not the rest of the Simians nearby joined in. Being surrounded by hairy, screaming, feces-flinging bipeds proved too much for the team’s patience and sense of safety. An immediate hot pickup was called. On arrival and following standard procedure the Royal Marines made a clear zone, resulting in the deaths of several Simians. The Law Giver was not pleased with this latest development and ordered the use of a secret weapon. She boasted over the contact frequency that the orbiting explorer would be incinerated by a mega laser based on the Simian moon. While an energy build-up was detected on the moon’s surface it didn’t result in a laser discharge but a thermonuclear detonation of extraordinary magnitude. Survey team scientists were at a complete lost to explain how such a detonation could have made a moon break orbit and head towards deep space, taking the 300+ Simians on the outpost with it. As for the Law Giver her castle exploded for reasons unknown. With the survey explorer crew looking on a strange bone-shaped ship, having been on the far side of the planet, left planetary orbit for parts unknown. An apparent Simian cutter followed the odd ship and both mysteriously disappeared from the explorers’ scanners minutes later. Needless to say whoever was going to read the report would need a very open mind. It was a cloud-free day at the “If one didn’t know any better,” the king finally said, “then they would conclude that this was poor science fiction or a brilliant comedy. Fortunately the contact team didn’t experience any deaths.” “Unlike the Simians,” Wonset added on cue. “In addition to their purported laser weapon the Simian leader Law Giver ordered the launch of several nuclear-tipped chemical missiles at the explorer. However it appeared these missiles, for whatever reason, were targeted on their own cities. On top of nuclear contamination what few Simians remain will be facing earthquakes and volcanic eruptions for years to come due to lingering after effects of their moon’s departure. Coupled with inevitable changes in axial tilt, rotation rate and greatly reduced ocean tides the environment on Simian Prime will became harsh in under a century. Our scientists say the race has a 40% chance of survival even with outside help. If any Simians do make it they’ll be rebuilding from scratch.” “What time frame are we looking at for the Simians to reach the same level of technical sophistication before their self-inflicted apocalypse?” Kysjyt said as a formality. He had no intention in dealing with a race that displayed a mob mentality when one of their own went off the proverbial deep end. Especially one that was lead by such an obvious egomaniac as personified by Law Giver. Wonset replied in a matter of fact manner. “It’s a question on how well they adapt to the planet’s changing climate and associated weather. Some of our scientists say at least 300 years, others up to 2,000 years.” Kysjyt nodded and stroked his antennae in thought. “We’ll take advantage of the Simian’s asteroid belt. It’s uncommon to find one that’s rich in mineral content. I’ll authorize a colonization program for the Simian system’s asteroid belt and outer moons. There are no other open warp points in the system so investment will be relatively safe. As for the Simians themselves we’ll leave them alone. My descendents will have the task of establishing contact with them once they regain a civilization worthy of the name.” “A wise choice under the circumstances, nephew. Future contact teams will be prepared for dung-flinging if it comes to that.” Kysjyt chuckled. “Yes they will. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to help my queen round up the horde and get them ready for dinner. You know how children are when it comes to baths.” “A fact I’m well aware of, Kysjyt. Aunt Wykken had the hardest of times giving you a bath in your youth.” “That’s because back then I believed there was no good reason to bath every-other day. It was a waste of perfectly good reading time.” “With all the arguing you did with Wykken you could’ve read a dictionary.” Wonset stood and flexed limbs that were slowly being hindered by arthritis, a condition that even Fendalen medical science has failed to fully conquer. “I’m going to write up the appropriate royal colonization decrees for the Simian system. You’ll have them on your desk tomorrow morning for review and signing.” “Thank you, uncle. But have yourself and Wykken join the dinner tonight. The latest shipment of Coilan cantaloupes has arrived.” “We will, nephew. They are such delicacies.”
It was eight years after the Bhohim War and scarcely one after the Simian Episode. Kysjyt and Dysyl had their eleventh and last child, Pyanyt, and the Bhohim entered a partnership treaty that would eventually integrate them into the Kingdom. Both events were worthy of celebration, but a discovery later that year appeared like an unwanted present. Explorers of the 4th Survey Flotilla discovered another sentient race. Three innocuous explorers entered a red giant/distant red dwarf binary system only to find themselves facing armed bases and clouds of (thankfully) inactive laser buoys. First contact protocols were employed immediately and the aliens, called Vendians, were quick on the uptake and replied with words instead of weapons. Two months of work finally lead to the establishment of reliable communications. Long before then opinions about the Vendians were being formed. Not as much as they were saying (which was a lot) as for the way they looked. Back on Royal Ascendant in the king’s private study a small group was viewing the latest update from the first contact team. It was just Kysjyt, Dysyl and their five youngest. Whenever an image of a Vendian was shown on the holoimager four of the children cringed and hide behind their parents. Only Pyanyt, at a tender age of six months, showed no fear at all. He was striking out at the Vendian holo images with his fists, seemingly knowing by instinct that these beings were enemies. “They do look like Isset, despite the height,” commented Dysyl, “and they’re lacking in facial expressions.” “I don’t think they can smile.” Kysjyt said in an off-handed manner. “In all the footage so far I haven’t seen one smile, much less make any sort of facial expression.” “They’re scary,” said Caphus, the dominant sibling of the hatchlings immediately preceding Pyanyt. “They look like Isset, just as great uncle Wonset described them.” Kysjyt turned around to give the huddled quartet a knowing look. “So great uncle’s been telling you scary stories? Have you been doing something that you shouldn’t?” The shaking heads of denial didn’t convince him. “You’ve been sneaking food to bed and leaving a mess?” The denials were less energetic and unsure. “Don’t you know how Isset find little young Fendalens to gobble up? They following the trail of crumbs left behind by breadstick-eating children who don’t listen to their parents. Well, unless you want great uncle Wonset to keep telling you scary stories about Isset you better clean up your act, you impudent set of wastrels.” All four looked crestfallen with their antennae dropping down. “However,” Kysjyt added, “if you lot get your room cleaned I’ll tell you a fun and exciting story tonight about brave deeds and epic battles.” “We’ll be good,” Caphus ventured. “We’ll have the room extra-clean.” Kysjyt shooed off Caphus and his three cookie-crumb cohorts. The two nannies that were waiting in the wings followed. They were under previously given instructions not to help the quartet in their task. Nevertheless Kysjyt was going to tell them a story so that they something good to dream about instead of displeasing images of the Vendians. Truth be told, Kysjyt found the similarities between the Isset and Vendians unsettling. During the Civil War the young Kysjyt never seen an Isset, living or dead, but had heard stories and reports while in the presence of Wonset, his regent. Wonset himself had fought Isset on several occasions, including some in planetside firefights. Over the years the young prince turn king read and re-read after-action reports and videos of Isset savagery and unspeakable acts of barbarity. For those that lived when the former subject race rebelled the memories may have dimmed but didn’t die. All the subsequent generations born of the Gyst loyalists made the Isset the boogeyman with which to scare young ones if they got out of line. Now it appeared that these Vendians, superficially at least, were the incarnation of best forgotten nightmares. Everyone who knew about the Isset would tend towards, if not outright, treating the Vendians as Isset reincarnate. Dysyl could tell how deep in thought her husband was by his absolute stillness. She asked a question that would fit the thinking she knew Kysjyt was engaged in. “What kind of people are these Vendians? What is their form of government?” “Oh? Yes, that,” Kysjyt said absently. “Wayysa, our diplomat on the scene, said that their government is socialist in nature. A ruling body called the Politburo determines the distribution of resources to various state industries. They also control all aspects of life of the society, from cradle to grave. Fendala’s past had a few examples that sprung up during the industrialization era, but those states were defeated by neighboring kingdoms.” “Have these Vendians shown any reaction when they learned about our style of government? As I recall from my history classes those early attempts at socialist utopias were dead-set against monarchies of any kind.” “Well, you certainly can’t tell from their faces,” the king said jokingly. “Their speech is polite but a bit bombastic. We’ll see how polite they’ll stay once they know they can’t use the warp point leading to Pantry. Those two mineral rich worlds in Pantry will go a long way to serve our kingdom.” Dysyl got up and scooped up Pyanyt in her arms. The little prince had finally tired of punching at holographic foes and had begun to rest. “Let’s hope these socialists don’t get it into their head to attack us. They only have three small explorers and what our people are saying to judge us by.” “That would be a smart thing to do, Dysyl. We know from the bases and buoys that the Vendians have attained a notable level of technical sophistication. If they go against common sense and engage us without knowing our true potential then they’ll pay for it.” Senior Fleet Director (2nd Level) Keyket, Vendian Space Navy, combed the fur on the left side of his face more briskly than usual. He received new orders from the Politburo that required him to speak to the Fendalen named Wayysa instead of Larkey, President of the ruling congress of the Anvil system. Keyket arrived in Anvil ten days after the aliens appeared, brining a sizeable portion of the active fleet with him. He kept the fleet sixteen light-seconds away from the warp point, far enough out to prevent the aliens from knowing the type of ships involved. They were an insurance policy, and a bluff, in case the Fendalens decided to try something. As
for Keyket he selected a missile platform as his base
of operations. He followed the progress of the science
team and came up with two conclusions. First, he
didn’t like the Fendalens’ appearance, looking like
giant bugs for all their intelligence. It didn’t help
matters either that they didn’t wear clothes. Second,
these Fendalens mentioned then clarified that they
were ruled by a king. Keyket had to go through a
history text to find out what a king was. In On the platform’s command deck, standing on the observation balcony, Keyket finished his last minute preening and ordered communication to be established with Wayysa. The sight of the dark yellow giant bug on the screen didn’t engender feelings of xenophobia, but of contempt. He allowed those feelings to color his tone. “Mister Wayysa, I’m Senior Fleet Director Keyket. I have a message from my Politburo for your King.” For his part Wayysa didn’t find Vendians all that irksome. What resemblance they did have with the Isset was mitigated by the use of clothing. Even so, he found their dispositions and attitudes overbearing and grandiose. It was an exercise in patience when joint meetings were held. Judging Keyket’s tone it sounded like it was going to be more of the same. “Hopefully it will be good news for the relationship between our two nations,” Wayysa said sincerely. Keyket
would’ve
smiled if he could. “It is good news. Good news for
the “It is good to have goals.” Wayysa replied sarcastically. Talks with Larkey have been amicable enough. It was clear this Politburo had chosen an aggressive stance for its foreign policy. Using an admiral to deliver the message made it doubly clear that force would be used without hesitation. “As instructed by my King your nation is duly informed not to enter the system on the far side of this warp point. To do so will be construed as an act of war. Your Politburo will do well to remember this when encountering any Kingdom system in the future.” An untranslated yip filled the speakers for a moment. Keyket wasn’t pleased. “The future is the exclusive province of the righteous advancing the cause of socialism. Tell your King that all the gold in existence won’t stave off the inevitable fall of your hierarchal anachronism if you unwisely oppose us…” “Save your breath,” Wayysa interrupted. He heard all what he needed to hear and wasn’t going to stand around all day to listen to Keyket’s histrionics. “I will go now and send your message. All communication between us will be handled by courier drone until further notice. Be well, Senior Fleet Director Keyket.” The screen went dark and all three explorers exited in under a minute. Keyket
was not use to being interrupted and dismissed in so
curt a manner. He immediately called for his staff to
gather in the platform’s meeting room. He made them
wait, however, as he composed and sent a message back
to the Politburo on
Following the discovery of the Vendians standard operating procedure was used in the Pantry system. The support group for the 4th Survey Flotilla deployed mines and buoys around the warp point leading to the Anvil system. The nearest task group of the 4th Knights Brigade was sent in. Among the ships was the 1st Carrier Division, complete with the newly developed first generation strikefighter. Prince Sajel was one of the pilots on the Colt class carrier Strider. At 29
Sajel was almost twice the age of the average pilot.
Only the squadron commander, Hensyk, came close at 24
and he was an assault shuttle pilot that fought in the
Task Group KB-411 was on station at the Pantry/Anvil warp point for over three weeks. In that time Hensyk drilled his charges in simulated attacks, seeking new ways to enhance their performance. The regular warship crews wondered if such fleet little vehicles could make a substantial difference in defending the warp point. Word had gotten out about the Vendian proclamation, and everyone knew the King’s orders regarding Vendian intrusions into Kingdom space. Until further reinforcement arrived the regular spacers trusted their guns, mines and buoys over that of ten untried fighter squadrons. Nine
days after the return of Wayysa the Socialist Republic
of Venda put force behind their words in the form of a
warp point assault. With no previous data the six As with all assaults of this kind the invaders’ first wave held the initiative. The VSN battleship Hammer focused its transit-addled weapons on one of the nearby battlecruisers. Only one beam and five sprint-mode standard missiles hit the target. In reply one of Hammer’s squardonmates was the first to experience x-ray lasers, close assault missiles and antimatter-tipped standard missiles, losing all of its shields and 86% of its armor. The VSN cruiser Beartrap had the misfortune to exit on a vector that had it pointing away from the RN CAs and missile CLs. Even with three of its four EDMs deployed the buoy-killing ship was ravaged by antimatter missiles and long range HET laser hits. All too few RN ships had become active this round, but two of three carriers were quick off the mark and launched their seven squadrons… and one of the three buoy tenders activated one segment of the laser buoy shell. Forty buoys fired their bomb-pumped lasers into six targets. The BB that was the focus of the active BC and DDs was destroyed while another BB targeted by the frigates was heavily damaged. Two BBs each lost an engine room and two launchers while the Hammer just had its armor vaporized and datalink broken. Beartrap was wrecked, its long-range scanner knocked out, meaning that the VSN was still ignorant of the small minefield surrounding the warp point. Courier drones from the first wave flew past the emerging second, again composed of five battleships and a cruiser. In the back seat of his command fighter Hensyk looked at the primary tactical display. His seven squadrons were now 2 LS away from the enemy. Three of newly arrived battleships were facing away from the close-in defenders, rendering their armament and point defense useless at the moment. A flash message told him that Bolter’s fighters were now manned and ready to launch. As he authorized their immediate use he noticed Sajel’s fighter was ever-so-slightly out of position in the squadron. “Hardtack to Old Man,” said Hensyk, using his and Sajel’s call signs. “Get tucked back into your spot, even if you burn yourself on my exhaust.” “Affirmative, Hardtack,” said the prince turn pilot. “The way you process dinners everyone gets burned by your exhaust.” “Let’s see if you can still joke after this, Old Man,” Hensyk said wryly. “Screw up here and you won’t become an old man for real.” Again
the Two of the active Lord class battleships fired their missiles into the undefended blind spot of a Vendian BB. Deployed EDMs did what they could to spoof the inbounds but the mix of nuclear and antimatter warheads took the shields and savaged the armor. By the time the crippled Beartrap was destroyed by two CAs the 80 activated buoys concentrate on just seven ships. Each one of them lost their armor and suffered varying degrees of internal damage. The RN commander was holding back the remaining 120 buoys for the third wave. He was counting on more of his ships to become active in the interim. With the enemy cripples destroyed in the next weapon cycle the newcomers would be easily bashed by the buoys. With the third wave just two battleships entered followed by four heavy cruisers. The long range sensors of the second wave cruiser detected additional small objects around the warp point. Unable to determine what those objects were the Vendian cruiser commander dismissed them. Instead he used his point defense to take out buoys before they could fire. As for the approaching cutter-like craft, one wave of 42 at 1 LS and another of 18 at 2 LS, the commander told the assault leader that it was likely a boarding force. This too was dismissed, though the ships were warned of possible boarding actions. The remaining 116 buoys expended themselves on the seven surviving Vendian ships. With the damage inflicted upon them earlier just one heavy cruiser hung on with half an engine room. It launched its drones as it turned pitifully to escape. Losses for the VSN so far were twelve battleships and five cruisers. For the RN it was one BC heavily damaged and six DDs either destroyed or severely damaged. It was beginning to look as if the fighters would face only smaller ships in the subsequent waves. That assertion was true to a certain extent. A fourth wave entered. First came five more cruisers, facing random directions but with most still able to bring their weapons to bear. Along with the sixth cruiser came forty-eight escorts ships packed together in a mass transit. Twelve of them interpenetrated and exploded. With his seven squadrons right at the warp point Hensyk entered his targeting priorities. With the firepower of antimatter-armed fighter close attack missiles each squadron could easily destroy a cruiser, so that would take care of six squadrons. For the seventh and the other approaching three squadrons they would expend one-third of their missiles at a time on the escorts. In the confines of his cockpit Sajel watched as the cruiser’s image on the target scope grew larger and larger. A skilled wildlife hunter while on Royal Ascendant, Sajel went by his instruments as well as instinct on achieving an optimum fire control solution. In the moment when machine and skill agreed he fired and banked away. Bringing up the aft view on a secondary display Sajel whistled in delight as the cruiser was smothered in antimatter fireballs and exploded like a tree hit by lighting. His mic was on so the rest of the squadron heard him. “Save that for the bar tonight, Old Man,” Hensyk said gruffly. “Head back to the stable to re-arm. They might send in more waves of small ships.” In actuality Hensyk had no need for concern. The crippled cruiser from the third wave transited out as the fifth wave, made up of six heavy cruisers, arrived. Still ensconced aboard a missile platform in Anvil, Senior Fleet Director Keyket was shocked to see a debris-and-atmosphere trailing wreck of a ship emerge from the warp point. It took precious moments to comprehend the enormity of the situation on the other side. Due to this inaction the sixth wave entered before Keyket issued the ordered to halt the offensive. Back in Pantry the fifth wave cruisers witnessed that just 16 of the 48 escorts survived the mass transit and resulting combat. That didn’t prevent the15 that were still mobile to move towards the RN ships at the one LS position. Alarm rose as the multitude of little objects around the warp point relieved themselves to be some sort of very short range sprint-mode missile. They were space warfare’s version of wet navy mines, and each Vendian escort upon entering the mines’ attack parameters was beset by twenty of them. All were destroyed even before they made it halfway through the minefield. A quick change in orders from Hensyk sent the four squadrons still armed with ordnance towards the new cruisers. In quick order three of the ships were atomized while the others felled by a combination of missile and laser fire. For their trouble the cruisers that did manage to fire took out the passive defenses on one destroyer and two of its engine rooms. Also the BC that was damaged earlier in the battle suffered a breach in its detonation chamber, contaminating the system and its remaining laser emitter. That ship, however, had the honor of wiping out the sole escort left on the warp point. The final wave was composed of three heavy and three light cruisers. It would’ve been more merciful had fighters been available; their deaths would’ve been quick instead of the protracted agony they faced now. At least the knack of firing first was still in their corner. Another Infantry DD lost its weapons, and that was the last damage scored by the VSN. The Cavalier CLs were allowed to move in at last, firing their launchers in sprint-mode. Even the Prism-Ls DDs were sent forward, firing their spinal lasers for the first time, to break up the armor of the ships and strip them of their EDMs. It all ended as the missile BC and BBs buried the last trio of cruisers in antimatter fireballs. It was an unqualified victory for the Royal Navy. For the expenditure of 240 buoys, six patterns of mines, five destroyers gone with three more damaged and one damaged BC they had seen the destruction of 83 VSN ships. With the anticipated arrival of the Task Groups KB-412 and 414 in two weeks the RN would be in a position to counter-attack. Until then pinnace probes would be conducted to gauge the strength of the Vendian forces on the Anvil side of the warp point.
Keyket dismissed his staff from the
conference room after they presented the report on the
battle. It was going to be sent as-is to the Central
Control Staff. No matter how they try to spin the
results to the Politburo it wasn’t going to change a
thing. These Fendalens and their Kingdom have a
considerable technical edge over the Keyket had no illusion on what was going to happen to him. After the persuasive pitch he made to his superiors and the Politburo for an immediate attack he was going to be made the scapegoat. At the very best he may just be dismissed from service. More likely, given the historical Politburo response to failure, he could expect imprisonment for ‘ineptness to protect the principles of socialist order’. At worst, he could be shot. After five minutes the Senior Fleet Director made up his mind. He wrote a follow-up report and took full responsibility for the fiasco he instigated. It was given immediate priority and transmitted along the comm-buoy chain to the homeworld warp point. Leaving an order to an aide to enter the conference room in an hour to remind him about dinner, Keyket took out his service pistol and attached a distinctly non-issue silencer. When the aide arrived Keyket had been dead for a good fifty-five minutes. A celebration was held in the
pilot’s rec-room on the Strider. Each
squadron was allowed to celebrate in turn to assure
the maximum availability of pilots. Other than the
demonstrated power of the strikefighter it was the
fact that no pilot was lost that had everyone toasting
their good fortune. As one that seen fellow shuttle
pilots killed in the Bhohim War Hensyk knew that from
now on losses were going to be the norm and not the
exception. The admiral agreed with Hensyk that a
standing combat space patrol of three squadrons will
be maintained for the time being. If the Two hours into the eating, drinking and carrying-on a partially inebriated Hensyk sought out Sajel. He found him regaling a knot of fellow pilots about a hunting expedition in the wilds of Royal Ascendant’s equatorial jungles. “So, Old Man,” he said, using the call sign to keep the air of informality, “what are the chances these ‘midget-Isset’ have taken the hint and make peace? With the firepower we’ve shown they have to be complete fanatics to carry on.” With the effects of alcohol making him less inhibited Sajel spoke his mind. “Hardtack, I can tell you as sure as this royal ring I’m wearing that this war won’t end until the Vendys are conquered. When my dad the King makes a decision he sees it through. The Vendys were warned, and now they’ll regret having doubted our King’s word and the strength of our navy.” Someone in the background toasted the King, making everyone else obligated to do the same. “Hardtack,” Sajel continued, “I haven’t used my position as prince to influence or intimidate anyone while in the service of the King’s navy. But now I’m going to do just that, Hardtack. You are going to help this Old Man finish this bottle of rotgut liquor, or so help me I’ll have you swear allegiance to me and make you my personal servant.” “You
can start by pouring the first glass, Old Man,” Hensyk
said with liquor-powered hubris. “Your ancient liver
can’t possible handle any more booze tonight.”
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