Warrior One - Fleet Action Pt. 04

"The K'lar will help with the carriers and the attack. There are now seven fleets of K'lar. Three for the carriers and four up front with the dreadnoughts. Fighters to harass any Gar ship that gets past the main group. Fighters are to stick close to their carriers this time. Ground troops will be deployed on the two planets to help with any Gar that land there. The Chicago left a lot of ground equipment. Tanks, those big gun emplacements that can hit a ship in far orbit and enough ammo packs and stores to feed three times the population of these planets."

"The Chicago was here?" Admiral Lowery asked.

"Yes, twice. Each visit they off-loaded all their pods."

"They were in Earth orbit when I got the word we would be joining you here. They left two days ahead of us. How did they get here, offload their cargo, back to Earth load up again and then back here again?"

"I don't think they went back to Earth to get the second load. I think they went to Capella."

"Ah, that would make sense."

"We are getting off track," Admiral Fitzgerald said.

"Yes, we are. Any questions on the plan of battle?" Milford Cook asked.

Chapter 87

The fleet was deployed. Five Warrior class ships were at the point of the conical formation as they headed toward where the Gar would drop out of hyperspace. In the past two days, Warrior One had received updates on the Gar fleet from three different Scout ships. One two man and two one-man scout ships. Brave men, out in deep space alone.

Farther out from the Warrior ships were three battleships, then thirteen battlecruisers and eight destroyers. The four K'lar fleets swarmed in and out of the twenty-nine ships adding to their numbers. Ezra watched the clock wind down. Then his sensor screens lit up as they finally pierced the veil of hyperspace.

"Comms, let everyone know they are right on schedule," Ezra said.

"Aye, aye sir."

Then the Gar ships were in normal space. The ships in the forefront surged ahead to meet the Federation and K'lar ships.

"Let's hope they come at us a group at a time and not all at once... I spoke too soon."

On the screen, up front, the rest of the enemy ships surged forward to join the fight.

"Comms, all ships."

"All ships, sir."

"All ships, stay in formation as we make the first pass, then break into the three groups."

"All ships acknowledging, sir," Candle reported.

"Weapons fire torpedoes, coordinate with the other ships."

"Weapons aye."

"Plasma cannon to fire as ships come into range."

"Weapons, aye," Commander Kinsella answered again.

Now it was a waiting game as the two fleets headed for each other on a collision course. Ezra watched the tracks of the torpedoes multiply on the giant screen up front. There were now thousands of tracks cluttering the screen. Too many to read individual designation data.

"Sensors, clear designation data from the torpedo tracks please," Ezra said.

The screen cleared up a little as the data disappeared. The first hundred Gar ships suddenly disappeared from the screen. The Gar fleet broke, half going to port, the other half going starboard. The torpedoes still tracked. Then the Gar ships dropped into hyperspace.

"All ships, come about long turn to port. K'lar ships turn in place," Ezra barked the orders.

"All ships acknowledged," Candle said.

"Thank you, Candle."

The sensors finally found the Gar ships. They had jumped two AU's to the opposite side of the system. They had also broken up into eight different formations and were turning back toward Rigel as they dropped out of hyperspace. Ezra shook his head, the Gar were changing their tactics.

"All ships, break, break, break. Captain Tracy, you're in charge of the battlecruisers. Captain M'lat, you have the K'lar fleets, I'll take the big ships. All to make the best time to the other side of the system."

"All ship acknowledging, sir," Candle said once more.

Ezra grunted. He was very displeased. And yet surprisingly, the torpedoes still tracked their prey.

Dana Tracy sat in her chair, staring at her screens. She still couldn't believe she had been given command of all the battlecruisers in the combined fleets. Even though Admiral Cook was aboard the Mauthe Doog, she was in command.

"Comms, signal formation foxtrot one-five," Dana said softly.

"Ships notified," Comms reported.

"Ships acknowledging, sir," Mister Steel told her.

"Thank you, Mister Steel."

Dana watched the torpedo tracks on her screen. They had turned the minute the Gar had dropped into hyperspace. It was as if they knew where their targets were or would be. Well, she would contemplate what this development meant, while she waited for the ships to cross the vast distance now between the two fleets.

The Vestron surged as full power was applied to the engines. M'lat had just ordered all his ships to pull ahead of the Federation ships so they would be the first to meet the Gar. As the first Gar ships disappeared, the men had cheered. Now, however, they all concentrated on their jobs and the situation at hand. The Federation had given the K'lar the codes to enable their sensors to track the magic torpedoes and M'lat saw that they had turned and were actively tracking the Gar ships on the other side of the system.

From what M'lat could pick up of the Federations signals, they were just as surprised. Now M'lat saw that the Gar ships had moved to eight different formations. Fifty ships to a formation. M'lat commanded just over sixty-five ships. Things were about to get exciting. It would be hours before the battle was re-engaged. And the torpedo tracks continued.

Every torpedo that had been fired in the first engagement was still tracking. Ducking into hyperspace for longer periods of time. Only using fuel to maintain their present speed. Then they were out in front of the combined fleets, flashing toward their targets, relentless in their pursuit.

The enemies were about to re-engage. Tensions on all ship were high. The first to make contact was the K'lar fleet as it flew a tight formation through one of the Gar formations. Gar ships exploded. K'lar ships exploded. Sixty-five K'lar ships entered the battle. Only fifty-five came out the other side.

And still, the torpedoes hunted their prey.

Then Warrior One and the other dreadnoughts were among the Gar ships. New torpedoes were launched. Plasma cannon fired. Gar ships started to disappear once more. But not all Gar ships were hit. Some, somehow, avoided the torpedoes and struck hard at Warrior One. Then other ships of his fleet were taking hits from multiple Gar vessels.

And still, the torpedoes hunted.

Still outnumbered by the Gar, Dana Tracy moved her small fleet across space to attack a fresh group of Gar ships. The Gar engaged, even though half their ships disappeared into hyperspace when hit by torpedoes. Then the Éidin was hit and hit hard and went dark. Then it started to shed escape pods. Then the Altan and the Fáelán were both hit, the Gar weapons somehow getting through their shields, both ships were still able to maneuver.

The Nóe shook with each hit her shields thwarted. Dana's head was pounding. Her first command and she had already lost one ship and had two disabled. Turning to her screens she called out formations that would compensate for the lost ship and the slowing of two others.

And still, the torpedoes ducked in and out of hyperspace.

Ezra was exhausted, yet he still had a battle to fight. His ship was damaged, yet could still fight, and fight she did. Out of five hundred ships, the Gar were now down to two hundred odd ships. And more and more of them were disappearing as Ezra watched. On his screens must be the tracks of over two thousand torpedoes. Each hunting an individual ship. Each with a payload and a surprise.

Then the screens were clear.

No Gar ship. No torpedoes.

Only debris.

Only friendly ships.

The battle was over.

Ezra sighed slumping in his chair. Now it was time to lick their wounds and mourn their dead.

The Gar had scored somewhat of a victory, they had, at the last minute of the battle, been able to destroy or disable a number of big ships from the Federation.

Chapter 88

The battle was over. Warrior One limped to the Lagrange point around Rigel V designated Tango One. As she glided to a halt, an explosion on the port side erupted. The ship shook. Ezra Nichols, weary with fatigue that he had never felt before, sighed. There were six other ships in orbit with Warrior One. Ezra was sure there were more, but only these six had been able to get here under their own power.

On his screen, he watched other ships of the fleet, along with ships from the K'lar fleets, search those ships that were dead in space. Some were left alone, others were towed to one of the Lagrange points. The Chicago appeared just outside the system heading toward Rigel V. From what Ezra could see, her cargo pod slots were all filled with MedServ pods. Ezra bet that each was a small hospital complete with personnel.

"Sir, our severely wounded have been ordered to the Chicago for treatment."

"Thank you Candle, get the shuttles ready to transport them."

"Yes, sir."

Sighing, Ezra returned to watching his screens. There wasn't much he could do now that the ship was parked. All stations were manned, although some with crewmen who really didn't know the job. But there was Candle, able to watch everything at once to back them up.

Ezra spotted Commander MacDonald entering the bridge. His assistant sat at the engineering console oblivious to his presence. Connor stopped just to the right of Ezra's chair.

"How goes the battle?" Ezra asked him, smiling.

"We have sublight engines. Our hyperdrive engines are on the fritz, we're working on getting them back up. Primary power conduits are shorting out all over the ship. Secondary's are holding their own. Weapons are nominal as are sensors. Everything else is working for now."

"Thank you, Connor. How long for hyperdrive?"

"That's hard to tell sir. It could be a couple of hours or days or minutes from now."

"I see. Go tell your second to get some sleep, she has been at her station long enough."

"Aye, sir, she is dedicated. But, I'll tell her."

"Thank you again, Connor."

"Of course sir." Connor MacDonald walked to the engineering station, tapped Sean on her shoulder. "Lass, it's time for you to get some rest. I'll need you down in engineering first thing in the morning."

"But who will man... "

"We've got it downstairs lass. Now go, that's an order."

"Aye, aye sir." Sean rose stiffly from her couch. When she faltered, Connor bent to help her to her feet. She leaned against him, weary with fatigue. "How many... "

"Quite a few. We are still counting. But so far ten ships haven't answered the call."

"Oh, my," Sean sighed at the news.

"Aye lass, now let's get you to your quarters." The pair left the bridge.

Admiral Fitzgerald, Cook, and Lowery sat around the conference table in Warrior Three. Each of them looked haggard. It had been a long battle.

"What have we lost?" Lonan asked.

"So far... from Fleet Three, the Kraceevee, and the Cóis Dara. From Fleet One, the Selich. From Fleet Cook, the Fáelán and Altan. All destroyed or so badly damaged that the captains ordered abandon ship. Others with major damaged, Warrior One, Éidin, Kyernia, Dooneen Faim, Pech and the Nuadu. There is any number with minor damage, but still able to fight and maneuver. Fleet Four was the only fleet to come through without a single ship being damaged.

"We have ships, mainly destroyers and K'lar frigates, scouting the dark ships, both ours and the Gar. And making pickup on the lifeboats. We should have most of our personnel from those ships that were abandoned."

"Thank you, Milford. Why isn't Ezra here? Not that he needs to be, but he is an Admiral of the Fleet."

"Sir, his ship is badly damaged, he has wounded to get to the Chicago... "

"I know, I was just asking. Maybe I should have asked how he was, instead."

"Of course Lon, sorry."

"I think we should all go over to the Chicago and see to our wounded," Lonan said, looking at the other Admirals who all nodded in agreement.

When the three admirals disembarked at the Chicago, they found Admiral Nichols already there, seeing to his wounded.

"Ezra," Milford Cook called out.

"Admiral... er... Milford."

"That's a boy. Is the Chicago treating your crew well?"

"They are indeed. This is a remarkable ship. Here let me show you to the hospital pods. This way." Ezra led the other admirals through a hatch into a long corridor. On the left of the passageway were huge doors. Opening the first door, Ezra stepped in, holding the door for the other Admirals. "This is the main patient pod. All those who have been operated on or patched up will be brought here. It can handle over five hundred patients."

A man in a Merchant uniform approached them.

"Admirals, I see Admiral Nichols is giving you the ten cent tour. I'm Captain Garrison Collins."

"Captain, may I introduce Admirals, Fitzgerald, Cook, and Lowery."

"Very pleased to meet you all. Well, I have duties if you will excuse me."

"Of course Captain," Ezra said as Garrison walked away without further ado.

"A little brusque... ", Admiral Lowery started.

"Merchant Marines, not in our TO Kaylee," Admiral Cook said.

"I should hope not."

"I would. This ship has been back to Capella and here four times now. Each time she has brought what we need." Admiral Nichols said watching the Captain disappear through the door at the end of the passageway.

"Yes, he is a good man, a good Captain," Milford Cook added.

Chapter 89

Connor MacDonald sat in the chair aboard Warrior One. The bridge was filled with faces he had never seen up here before. He had never sat in this chair before. He didn't want to be in it now, but both Admiral Nichols and Commander Beckett were sleeping, per doctors orders. So were the rest of the standard bridge crew. It was two days past, the Warrior had been damaged. In two days, Connor and his engineering crew had repaired most of what had been damaged, except, the Warrior's hyperdrive.

Connor was watching his crew work on the drive on one of the monitors surrounding the captain's chair. Right there in the midst of those crewmen was Connor's assistant, Sean O'Connor, working just as hard as any of them. Smiling with affection, Connor, turned his attention elsewhere. A flashing red light on the console before him alerted him. To what he didn't know. Pushing the lit light, he found one of the large overhead screens changed to show him what the sensors were displaying.

"Holy Mother of... Sensors!" He shouted.

"Sir," the poor crewman said turning in his seat, "I haven't the faintest idea what... "

"Obviously," Connor shouted. "Mister Steel?" he asked quietly.

"The ship is signaling with Federation codes. She is signaling she is the Donegal... deep space station Donegal. I didn't know we had such a thing?"

"I have heard rumors, now confirmed, about such a thing... " Connor trailed off to a whisper.

"Comms, Captain Kevin Mac Nisse of the Donegal on channel four."

"Thank you, comms. Captain Mac Nisse, welcome to Rigel."

"Is everyone asleep down there... "

"Excuse me, Captain, Admiral Nichols here." Ezra bent down from just behind Connor, who jumped as his arm came into view so he could press the comm button.

"... er... sorry sir. Donegal reporting as ordered. We will assume an orbit around the star at Lagrange point Gamma, just between the orbits of Rigel V and VI."

"Very good. I will notify the fleets."

"Aye, aye sir. Will you be taking a berth or a repair slot?"

"A berth, if you haven't noticed my ship is far too big to fit in a repair slot." Ezra smiled at Connor after giving Captain Mac Nisse that zinger.

"Of course sir. Donegal out."

"But sensors are showing a lower slot big enough for the Warrior, sir."

"It is as yet finished. Donegal was sent out only partially complete. All bays will hold air and the ones that are complete will be able to repair our ships, but not all repair bays are complete or even started."

"How did you know... "

"I was in my ready room and was alerted to the Donegal's approach. Connor, get the first watch up here on the double, would you?"

"Of course sir. Where are you off to?"

"Admiral Fitzgerald has called a meeting of Admirals aboard Warrior Three."

"Aye. I remember when everyone came here for those kind of meetings... "

"Connor, pouting does not become you." Ezra laughed at his chief engineer.

"No sir, I suppose it doesn't." Connor chuckled as Ezra departed.

The scout ship Seeker sat, dark, three thousand light years down the spiral arm from Rigel. Their sensors had picked up the battle waged there. The ship could also see another six thousand light years down the spiral arm and what they saw was impressive. Commander Tóla was composing a communiqué to be sent to Fleet Admiral Fitzgerald at Rigel soonest.

Seeker could also see one of the one man scout ships up the arm from them. Searcher sat just as dark and silent as Seeker, watching, waiting. Both little ships were off the galactic plane by five light years. Far enough above not to have Gar ships bump into them by accident, yet close enough to see far down the spiral arm.

Seeker was currently tracking fifteen hundred frigate class ships headed up the spiral arm. At their current speed, the first elements would arrive in the Rigel system in just over a month. As Nolan Tóla finished typing his report, he pressed send. The communications array came to life for just over a nano-second and went dark again. Time enough to send a thousand messages, but the shortest time the comm system could manage.

"Sent," Nolan told his partner Patrick.

"Can we jump out of here then?"

"Yes. Make course for Rigel. Time to stock up and get ourselves a shower. You stink."

"You should talk. If only they had made this boat a little bigger, a sonic shower would have been nice."

"Yeah, right," Nolan spat as he pressed the hyperdrive button.

Lieutenant JG Doyle Farrell watched as the Seeker dropped into hyperspace. Smiling, he watched the blob of ships coming up the spiral arm. Adjusting his scanners, he also saw a smaller blob, coming across from the other spiral arm to the left or east. These didn't display as Gar, the configuration of the ship was all wrong. He waited on the computer to identify them.

Saxon, the screen displayed in large green letters. Friendly was alongside the designation. Now, what were the Saxon doing this far down toward the galactic center?

Doyle typed furiously, then pressed send on his comm unit. It hummed for a split second then was once again quiet. He tracked the Saxon's for another hour. He sent an updated report, then set course for Rigel. There was another one-man scout out here somewhere, but Doyle hadn't been able to find it. If he knew the pilot, Doyle suspected the scout had parked itself on an asteroid. There were several lurking about the right size.

Doyle shook his head, then pressed the hyperspace button and he was off for a well-deserved bath and meal.

Chapter 90

Admiral Fitzgerald, Cook, Lowery, Nichols, along with High Admiral M'mal and Captain M'lat, sat around Warrior Three's command conference table. The Donegal had been a surprise to them all. Especially the K'lar. Even Admiral Fitzgerald was shocked at its size.

"It's twelve kilometers wide and six kilometers tall. Most of the information about it is classified and not even I can breach the locks put on the data," Admiral Fitzgerald huffed. "It has ten operational repair bays and two entire fleets will fit inside the main sphere. I have ordered all damaged ships to dock in a repair bay. Those ships, Warrior One, that won't fit in a repair bay will dock in the sphere where repairs will be carried out. The rest of the ships will rotate into the sphere for a little R & R before we head back to earth. Fleet four will remain here with the station."