Existential Threat: Chapter 2 Part 3 of 4 (Patreon)

The smaller ships with only a limited magazine fired another complete barrage. Two clouds chasing after one another with a vapor of missiles between.

“Missiles coming into point defense range.”

The Dropships created an interlinking defensive and sensor network through the armada’s formation.

Sensors communicated to one another, picking out the missile’s path, firing from one or several dropships, warships and other vehicles. Interceptors hurtling out to surround and mutually destroy the incoming weapons.

“Close In Weapon Systems engaged.”

The tell-tale whips of V-3 rounds lashed out, ballooning into seventy meter spheres in the path of the enemy warheads.

Though Weskarth hadn’t used barraged, instead unleashing a steady stream after the initial salvo.

CIWS were beleaguered as missiles targeted dropships and the smallest of Dana’s warships.

The corner of her mouth lifted. Sneaky bastard.

Weskarth’s CIWS was dense, though he didn’t have V-3s instead having to rely on striking the incoming missiles with rounds head-on.

Her dropships disappeared under his missiles, washed away.

“Corvettes taking strikes!” Ayambe said.

“We’re getting hits on his ships, fuck they built them tough,” Leblanc cursed.

“But their acceleration is shit, too damn heavy,” Klinsky muttered.

Her crews and Weskarth’s fought their ships, wading into the destruction that would have rent worlds uninhabitable, their warships as big as mega-scrapers bucking with hits, hurling back their own attacks.

Ships on both sides were destroyed.

A wall of detonations covered Weskarth’s ships.

“Just used clear sky attack,” Leblanc said.

Detonating a net of missiles to take out most of the first barrage. Dana pursed her lips, he didn’t have freighter support so he only had the supplies aboard each of his ships. The more ships he kept through this engagement the more options in the future. He could get his ships through, pull in his freighters, exchange supplies, cover them and send them off somewhere safe to carry out other operations.

She nodded, clear sky against her barrages was a good bet.

“They’re firing rail cannons?” Leblanc said.

“We’re still not in range,” Dana said.

“Nope. Shit their lighting engines! They added rockets to their damn rail rounds!” That’s cheating. Dana silently heard the second part.

Shoki shuddered, several rail-cannon rounds detonated.

“Rail rounds have nuclear payloads of course,” Leblanc said sourly.

Klinsky weaved them as best he could out of the majority of fire.

“Fleet spinning,” Klinsky said.

Thrusters sent the ships into a spin perpendicular to their line of advance. Hopefully spreading out any damage and bringing more defensives weapons into the mix.

“First missile barrages landing,” Leblanc said.

Defensive weapons fought valiantly as the missiles thrusters fired once more, orientating on to their targets and detonated. Minnie and her people had tweaked their warhead, giving them twice the power they’d originally had their wormhole projector detonator roughly directing their blast, sending out jets of nuclear energy. Mimicking the hellbores.

“Down to fifteen percent dropships, nineteen on the hellcats, boxers down nine percent,” Ayambe’s voice calm and detached from the fury beyond their hull.

Cruisers even when holed kept fighting. Several battleships were out of the fight, a few of them had repaired themselves enough to return to it.

Good repair crews. In most real battles, ships with that level of damage were out of the fight. Her own crews weren’t about to be out-done, slapping armor plating on their hulls in the middle of the fight and bringing weapons back on, or cutting missile hatches open so they could stay in the fight.

The only dead Sphere World Ship is one reduced to its damn atoms.

Cruisers armor was blackened and cracked metallic gas trailing in their wake, catching the light of the system’s primary and the other star’s light.

Markers changed colors around the operational groups and fleets.

Shoki continued to roll with the attacks.

“Firing third barrage,” Leblanc said.

The ships vomited fire and opened wormholes, the missiles the freighters had dumped, a full reload and a half for the entire fleet poured through the wormholes, not having to wait to be fired from missile ports.

“Multiple clear sky detonations!” Leblanc said.

Weskarth’s waves of nuclear detonations slowed and weakened the barrage but Dana’s fleet had fired tens of thousands of missiles, much more than even his missile heavy warships could handle.

Hellbores, missiles, CIWS, the clouded the battle space, a dancing and organic, terrifying thing of annihilation for any but the most armored ships to weather.

“Thirty-five percent of enemy fleet is out of action, twenty-seven percent of our fleet,” Ayambe said.

“Good, looks like those hellbores have been doing some work.”

“Railgun range,” Leblanc reported

Railgun’s thrummed against the clinking hiss of missiles, the staccato of CIWS the shudder of hellbores.

“Enemy fleet rapidly losing vessels,” Leblanc’s hunger at those very words coming through, the missile barrages sweeping through the enemy fleet.

Ships were holed, weapons magazines detonated.

The seconds flew in a rush. “Intercept!” The two fleets cut through one another, seconds from impact turning into near instantaneous, weapon systems firing as fast as they were capable of, tearing into their targets in a fury. Computer systems running computations faster than any human was capable, fighting the ships.

Dana shuddered and shook, her screens, fighting to keep up in that madness. Ships and fleets crossed one another, crews unable to do anything but hold on as ships came apart, missiles tore apart sections of ship, rail cannon rounds punched through layers of armor. Hellbores cut lines in ships moving so fast that a few second blast was spread over several meters.

Dana gritted her teeth, checking the updates from other ships, the only thing that could be relied on as ships color drained from greens through yellows to reds into blacks, or suddenly jumped colors.

Dead ships were cleared from the roster, like a kill-feed.

Dana’s harness held her in as Shoki shuddered and shook, clashing with ships again and again.

“Turning!” Klinsky yelled.

Weapons fired as fast as they could reload or cool down for another shot as the ships turned their engines in the direction they were going, to fire at one another, even as the distance continued to grow.

Dana reviewed the battle update, grimacing at her own losses. Down thirty eight percent, those railguns are a terror in close. Weskarth is down Forty one though, that third barrage softened him up well.

The fact he’d been able to make up the difference even while she used hellbores spoke to his fleet and his crews abilities.

“Coming out of the spray,” Klinsky said.

The debris of lost armor, weapons and broken ships followed their own ballistic courses, the Armada rose up out of it on thrusters, their engines firing to counter their acceleration, widening the gap between them and Weskarth’s fleet.

“Have all ships that are heavily damaged or disabled work together and head out for repairs. Repair crews have three minutes for the worst damage, weapons and armor. All small craft to group up with their fleets, prepare emergency wormhole to change orientation.”

“Yes Admiral,” Ayambe said.

“Mark everything that’s medium classed and higher as still a potential threat. Going to need troopers to clear those ships. They’ve got vats, factories and engineers on them to get them back up and running.”

“Updating the plot,” Leblanc said, the markers changing from derelict to potential threat.

“Klinsky make sure that we have the least damaged point of the formation leading the emergency wormhole.”

“Aye ma’am,” Klinsky said.

It would be a tricky manoeuvre with this many ships and to keep them in formation, but she trusted in her people’s ability. The faster I can get back on target, and use my momentum, the more I can wear them down.

The ships came alive with movement, several hundred times the piloting crew in engineers that had been working and assessing the damage throughout the battles set to their own fight, swarming the wormhole projectors that were broken and swapping them out. Anyone left over shifted to repairing whatever they could fix quickest.

The nanite layer of the ships melded materials back together, patching holes, repairing circuitry. Bots set to work with their repair tools and nanite bandoliers, repair rollers streaming through the hallways to supply them with components.

Missile doors fused shut from a near miss were pried open. Interceptor missile banks were kicked free and replaced.

Dropships and small craft landed on the carriers, performing emergency landings on the dreadnoughts, their ammunition stores replaced, broken weapon systems pulled off and replaced directly, the broken thrown into the nanite layers or factories as raw materials.

“Wormhole transition in new formation organized, exit is set forty seconds from intercept, twenty seconds from exit till first engagement range,” Klinsky said.

Dana scanned the different fleets, those in the forward point had been hit the hardest, losing over fifty percent of their strength, those that made up the rear-most point had lost forty percent. The others between fifteen and twenty five percent.

“Send me map for exit poin-“

“Wormholes around enemy fleet,” Leblanc cut in, pausing as she assessed sensors. “Enemy freighters returning to the fold.”