The Phoenix Project (19 page)

    
“Fire primaries.”

    
Two great comets of bright yellow fire
roared from the center sections of each of the
Excalibur’s
thick wings. A third blossomed from the nose of the
elongated metal bow.

    
The wing section’s emissions sped through
empty space and cut through both carriers’ shields, hitting them midway up the bow.
The star fire screamed through bulkheads and hull—bearing struts. The center
line of the long olive carriers exploded in flame sequentially from their bows
to their sterns.

    
Scorched generators exploded, vaporizing attack
craft, resembling green twentieth century jet fighters, in burning hangars.
Debris shot through walls and doors, holing the ships inside their thick hulls.
The sub—light furnaces leaked flame before tearing themselves to pieces. Their
fury blew each of the carriers into fragments.

    
The third comet from
Excalibur’s
bow
reached through space to the lead carrier. As the beam neared its target, a great
olive streak eight hundred feet long blurred across the weapon’s path.

    
The plasma beam struck the Coalition
frigate amidships causing its port shield to fail under the onslaught. The
frigate’s military green hull buckled under the weapon’s power. The stern and
bow of the ship turned to meet each other as the explosive force halved the
ship. Maria slammed a fist on her square console.

    
“Damn!”

    
“Admiral we have eliminated two of their
carriers. We can turn back now,” Phelps said.

    
“They can still surround us with the five
hundred fighters they have left.”

    
“What can we do?”

    
Maria regarded their headstrong flight
towards the carrier for a moment. More ships had come in to protect the last
carrier presenting more obstacles. She felt the ship shudder as they began to
voice their dissatisfaction with her advance.

    
“How long until the plasma cannons are
recharged?”

    
“Four minutes,” her weapon’s officer
replied.

    
Maria buried her chin into her fist.

    
“There is no other way.”

    
“What?” Phelps asked.

    
Maria stood up from her seat. “Weapons
station, divert all remaining power to the shields. Set weapons to automatic
and program the computer to concentrate forward fire on the intercepting ships.”

    
“Yes, Ma’am.”

    
Maria waited a moment for her instructions
to be carried out before she spoke again.

    
“Abandon ship!” she exclaimed and slapped a
button on the arm of her chair. The ship’s intercom emitted a continuing series
of klaxons. People rushed for the doors of the bridge. Phelps walked calmly
towards the exit and then stopped once he saw Maria striding towards the empty
helm console. He rushed back for her.

    
“Ma’am!”

    
“Go Phelps, I have a few things left to
do,” she said.

    
“I won’t allow it.”

    
“Yes, you will. It’s the only way to
destroy that carrier and ensure our victory,” Maria replied.

    
“You need a backup. You might be injured or
incapacitated.”

    
“I won’t risk anyone else. Go.”

    
“You need me,” he said.

    
“Go, or I’ll have someone back to escort
you.”

    
“Yes, Ma’am.”

    
“Good soldier, now get out of here.”

    
“Admiral?”

    
“What Phelps?”

    
“It has been an honor serving with you.”

    
“I have no intention of dying here.” Maria
nodded towards the command chair. “I’ll use the command pod.”

    
“Good idea,” he said and smiled.

    
“Yeah I think so, too. Now get out of here.”

    
Phelps rushed off the bridge.

    
A swarm of tiny boxes exited the ship from
all decks and poured into space. They emitted tiny bright lights once they
cleared the
Excalibur
and entered superluminal speeds for just a few
seconds to clear the area.

    
Maria bent over the helm console and
grabbed the protruding joystick to guide her cruiser through the enemy ships
vying to stop her. As the
Excalibur
closed in on the carrier, she input
the commands to auto—navigate towards the carrier.

    
“UNABLE TO LOCK,” blinked across the screen
on the right side of the console’s display.

    
“Come on!”

    
The cruiser took more hits to its
overloaded shields. Mechanics on the last Coalition carrier rushed to launch
 
sixty foot long fighters ahead of time.

    
Again, Maria ordered the computer to auto—navigate
to its destination.

    
“UNABLE TO LOCK.”

    
She slammed her palm against the console
next to the stick. The intrepid ship’s shields collapsed under the continued
assault. Spots on the hull flashed white as its armor was vaporized.

    
Armors failed and the multiple torpedoes
and particle pulses began to penetrate the hull. She heard the sound of
explosions within the ship. They were followed by the clamor of crumpling
metal.

    
Maria slipped past the last intervening
destroyer and saw clear space towards the carrier. Again she pounded the
buttons for automatic navigation towards the target.

    
“COURSE LOCKED.”

    
She smiled and returned to her command chair.
The press of a button on her armrest would activate a modular capsule which
would encompass Maria and propel her to safety.

    
The
Excalibur
entered its death throws.
A cruiser of enemy origin unleashed a great swelling of energy towards the
cruiser in a bid to stop its final ascent.

    
A storm of green pulses and bright
torpedoes found their mark against the forward hull.
Excalibur
howled at
the release of energy. A great hole in the ship emitted coiling smoke as she
dived towards her target.

    
Maria felt the deck shift. Her escape
capsule began to envelope her as a bright light emitted from the monitors on
the right side of the bridge. In the next moment, they exploded and collapsed
the entire port side of the command center. Fragments of metal and plastic flew
at fantastic speeds across the command center.

    
The capsule was nearly closed when traces
of superheated plasma flew into it. The bridge’s groans of weakness competed
with Maria’s screams of agony. The pod closed and sped through a shaft in the
ceiling of the bridge to the exterior of the ship. It flashed a bright light
and sped outside the area to a safe distance.

    
The AWS
Excalibur
was a spear of
smoke and flame when it crashed into the Coalition carrier. The warship
instantly lost shields as the
Excalibur
smashed into its hull. Conduits
and piping stretched and snapped in short order as the valiant ship sacrificed
itself for a greater purpose.
Excalibur’s
forward hull came to a stop now that it had impaled the enemy vessel. It
presented an image of a broadly—winged bird sticking its head into a feeder.

    
As secondary explosions rocked both
vessels, the carrier’s superluminal engines exploded. The white flash created a
shockwave dangerous to anything within several thousand miles. Two approaching
Coalition frigates dissolved once the blast wave hit them. A more distant
cruiser’s shields failed and became marked by a blackened hull along its port
side.

    
The next highest ranking officer of the
Second Battle Group, Commodore Stokes sat on the bridge of the cruiser AWS
Iroquois
.
He watched the distant flash in the rear line of the enemy Coalition fleet.

    
“Are there any survivors?”

    
“Yes, I’m reading dozens of lifeboats
outside the battlefield. It looks like they made it Sir,” the officer replied.

    
Stokes lifted his bulbous body from his
chair. “I’m taking command of the battle group.”

    
“Sir, I have a text message from Commander
Phelps detailing the rest of Admiral Peterson’s orders,” his communications
officer reported.

    
“Maria’s first officer? Does the message
have the correct recognition codes?”

    
“Yes Sir,” the officer said after a moment.

    
“Download them to my link.”

    
The officer nodded and sent the data to
him. Stokes took a link from a breast pocket and brought up the orders.

    
“Excellent,” he said after a careful review
of the document. “The enemy is off—balance. We need to take advantage of their
confusion. Order all fighters to break from their positions and run for the
enemy’s flanks.”

    
His tactical analysis personnel nodded and
relayed the order. To the Coalition’s surprise, the light grey fighters
abruptly turned and raced across the enemy ships’ bows. They then poured over
the edges of the Coalition front line.

    
“All fighters proceed to the rear of the
Coalition’s formation.”

    
The fighters complied and moved to surround
the aft arc of the Coalition fleet.

    
“Target the enemy ship’s sub—light engines
and unload all ordinances.”

    
Six thousand tiny torpedoes gushed from the
fleet of Alliance
fighters. The massive armada of tiny orange stars crashed into the Coalition’s
ranks. They exploded against the sterns of every ship. Many of them lost their
ability to maneuver and became sitting ducks open to attack.

    
“Move the group to surround the fleet. What
is the enemy status?” the Commodore inquired.

    
“Ten ships have been destroyed. Ninety
seven have lost their sub—light engines,” his tactical analysis officer replied.

    
“Order all ships to fire at will.”

    
The Second Battle Group was now completely
unfettered and began to fire every weapon in their arsenals. The emerald of
particle beam cannons was joined by the orange flame of torpedoes occasionally
lit up by the bright discharge from a primary plasma array.

    
“What is the status of the enemy?”

    
“Thirty—seven ships destroyed. Nearly all
of the rest of the enemy fleet has suffered moderate to heavy damage.”

    
“Have the fleet concentrate their fire on
any remaining undamaged Coalition ships.”

    
With their fighter support a ghost and Alliance ships in every
direction, the Coalition lines collapsed. Their warships attempted to face
every direction to deal with the enemy ships but with no concentrated fire,
they were ineffective.

    
The
Iroquois’
communications officer
addressed Stokes in her high piping voice.

    
“Orders from command, Sir.”

    
“Yes, what are they?”

    
“We are ordered to disengage and fall back
to the outpost. The Coalition has ordered their fleet to stand down and
retreat.”

    
“A little late for that,” Stokes said.
“Order our forces to stop firing and disengage. We’ll fall back to the outpost.
Have the
Yorktown
and the
Indefatigable
pick up the
Excalibur
survivors.”

    
“Yes Sir.”

    
Beams of energy and orange torpedoes ceased
their journeys across space. The bulk of the fleet turned away from battle and
moved back towards the distant outpost. Two Alliance frigates stayed behind to search the
battlefield for survivors of the
Excalibur
.

    
The Coalition did its best to consolidate
their fleet and return to their space. Many of the ships burned from spots
along their olive hulls as they limped home.

    
Two lifeboats were pulled into an empty bay
of the rescue ship
Indefatigable
. A battered pod came in shortly
afterwards and took a different route than the two escape vehicles on the main
hangar deck.