Chronicles of Sol: The Fall

February 2nd, 007 SDE:

Countryman turned his attention to the screens, as the proximity alarm went off. Misaki was already reporting the new contacts, and Countryman took a moment to look them over as he listened to her. It was a small fleet, not exactly uniform in design language but there were a few commonalities. The largest vessel was a destroyer from the look of it, roughly seven hundred meters long with thirty decks. The armament included several energy cannon emplacements, type unknown, along with fore and aft torpedo launchers.

Its escort included two frigates, one three hundred fifty meters long, and the other four hundred and thirty. They had a mix of light and medium energy cannon emplacements and vertical missile racks.

A dozen corvettes completed the small fleet. Again there were variances in size and exact armament, not to mention design language. Giving the impression of a rag-tag fleet built from several different sources. Given the nature of the storm, it was certainly possible, and Countryman did notice they had active shields on all the ships. "Kaori, standby all weapons, and Misaki, I want the fighter pilots on standby for deployment."

The two leapt into action, as the ship moved to a higher stage of alert. Countryman didn't want to be caught with his pants down if things turned hostile. The other ships spread out a bit on the screens, and slowed just moments before Misaki reported, "We are being hailed."

Countryman took the stairs up to the command balcony and signaled for Misaki to put them on the main screen. The forward screen shifted to display an alien bridge, one that seemed like it might have seen better days, in the background he could see exposed conduits and missing panels. There was even a console on the left that looked like it had been taken apart. However Countryman's eye was mainly on the hulking mass of fur and muscle that took up the screen.

The alien was huge with rippling muscles, and numerous scars and was missing his left eye. He had a short snout, and sharp teeth, as he stared at the screen. "Having some trouble, are we? Must be my lucky day, heave to and prepare to be boarded."

Countryman gave the alien man a look, "I do believe it's proper form to introduce oneself before making demands."

"You've entered Raider territory, and it's time to pay the toll."

"Really? I don't recall seeing any signs."

The alien glared, "Stop playing games, I've got you outnumbered and you seem to have lost your escort. I was feeling generous, but if I have to take my due by force I will."

Countryman chuckled, "Good luck, I've got twelve meters of armor between me and your puny guns, and a full array of heavy anti-ship cannons. Now I'll admit we are a bit new to these parts, but your fleet doesn't really impress."

"Trying to play the newcomer card? It's a bit late for those, recruitment was about two years ago with the last surfacing. Anyone we didn't find either joined someone else or perished."

"Oh? Interesting, so your little fleet isn't the only group out here. Nice to know, but you really underestimate people. We really are rather new to these parts, and spent the last two years working up a solution to the radiation that seems to permeate this storm. I would love to know what other groups I might run into."

The alien frowned, then shook his head. "Daft games, I told you to stop. That's it, nice Huzi is gone. All cannon fire!"

The alien cut the channel, and the ship shook as several energy rounds impacted the armor. "Hull plating is holding, no damage."

"Kaori, return fire, target the lead ship."

The grizzled raider watched his first rounds hit the big capital ship. He didn't know where their escorts went, but he wasn't going to let a prize get away over a few missing escorts. His ion rounds didn't do much damage, but he wasn't expecting any visible damage. Ion disruptors were designed to do minimal damage to the target while disrupting key systems. With the alien shields down, he was certain to disrupt something. A few more hits like that and the large ship would be easy pickings. Still given its size and their baffling choice to fight, he figured it might be better to tow them back to base and wait for the storm to kill them.

In response to the hits, several furrows along the dark alien hull started to glow, just before an energy beam lanced out. His ship shook, the shields flaring, and alarms blared. "Forward shield collapsing! Hull rupture, deck four!"

"Move us off! Switch to antiship rounds! Fire!"

By all rights that ship should have been half dead, he didn't know how they managed to fire that shot, but something told him his ion rounds had been ineffective. Moments later his anti-ship rounds struck as they were moving off, even as the others continued with the standard ion rounds. Nothing seemed to be working. What kind of armor was that?

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The ship shuddered as several more high-energy rounds slammed into the shields. Seconds before an incredulous voice reported, "They are launching fighters!"

Fighters? In this storm? What were they thinking, fighter craft didn't last long in the storm, they were too small to mount proper shields. It was basically a death sentence for the pilots. There was a reason the raiders scrapped them, they were good for nothing more than parts. It did make battles simpler, but also raised the value of capital ships which were hard to come by and not easily replaced. Even damaged, taking this one would be a boon to their fleet. Properly escorted a capital ship this large would easily swing the next faction war in their favor.

The damage to his shields and hull was certainly a testament to that. He turned to the tac plot as fighters streamed into the void. Being so small they would be difficult to deal with, he didn't have many guns intended for engaging such small vessels. Still, he did fight plenty of corvettes. He shouted at his tactical officer to keep an eye on the fighters and brought the ship on a new track. The ship shuddered, "Hull rupture! Deck fourteen!"

"Dispatch damage control, return fire, all primary batteries!"

"Main shields failing. No damage to target."

He glanced at the plots, their armor was protected by some kind of high intensity structural field. Their ion disruptors weren't putting a dent into it, but he was seeing energy fluctuations. "Focus all fire on a single point, maximum yield!"

His tactical officer acknowledged as the helmsman made several evasive maneuvers. Several cannons retargeted and opened fire on the alien battleship. There didn't seem to be an effect, but those fluctuations increased. This was going to take a sustained bombardment, wasn't it?

A swarm of fighters struck one of his escorts. High-energy particle rounds rapidly shredding the small vessel's shields. An officer reported the ship lost a moment later as he watched the corvette explode. Several rounds penetrated the upper hull and tore into the vulnerable core with explosive results. He cursed, replacing that ship wouldn't be easy.

Then a second soon followed, just as a new alarm went off. "Sir! The Horn's Revenge!"

He turned on the screen as space itself opened up to shred the frigate in question. One second the ship had been there, the next it had been ripped into pieces that were sent sailing into parts unknown. Several ships attempted to avoid the chaos, and two corvettes were lost a moment later as the rift tore them open as well. The alien vessels moved to evade it as well, he watched the rift clip the forward edge of the alien battleship. Some of the plating crumpled but that was about it before the ship was away from the rift. Her fighters followed along.

As the rift vanished, he turned to the crew. Part of him was tempted to chase after that battleship, but it seemed wiser to fall back to base for repairs and regrouping. They'll be out here to find their prize sooner or later. They did seem to be having shield trouble and would likely be dead sooner or later.

Countryman watched the raider group depart, as Misaki ran damage control. That little skirmish had been something, but it did raise a few questions. It seemed the locals weren't really expecting newcomers to be coming out of their holes, which implied their medicine was generally more advanced than what everyone else had available. Not entirely surprising, but Countryman did notice they had working energy shields. They were rather weak, but they had them. An indication that the shield project could have worked if they'd figured it out. Sadly they hadn't but he was certainly interested in getting their forcefield systems back online. They'd been nice to have, and being sent back into the dark ages while familiar wasn't exactly fun.

It was a shame this whole first contact hadn't been more friendly; they might have learned more about the storm, and the people who lived in it. The locals were sure to know more, especially if they had been living here for a while. Regardless, aside from a little bit of damage from a hyperspatial eddy, they'd come out ahead with this encounter. Now they knew for sure they weren't the only group to survive contact with the storm, which would likely imply other groups of survivors. Hell the conversation indicated this group wasn't the only one.

Greyman stepped over to him, "That was something, think we will see them again?"

"Oh, more than likely."

"There is some debris and they looked like they'd been here before. Think we might find anything useful in the wreckage?"

"Not a bad thought, organize a few search parties. Have them operate in groups and maintain a fighter escort in case our friends come back. I don't want them out there without support."

"Agreed, it would be better to play it safe."

Greyman went to get things sorted out and he turned back to the screens. His mind considered the implications of survivors. Having other races in the area meant their chances likely went up, but it also complicated things. A certain amount of cooperation was practically required to survive here, but multiple large groups would also mean competition for resources. If he had to guess it seemed at least some of the locals had taken to piracy to get their resources. That muscled bear of an alien had mentioned something about a toll. A prospect that seemed pretty laughable with that fleet, but it was possible they had something bigger elsewhere. The Enterprise was only one ship, not a fleet. Fighting more battles like that one wasn't something he wanted. However they did have a large inventory of fighters, and they even had a good number of X-1205 assault shuttles. They were designed for combat and could be configured for gunship or light bomber roles. With a little work, they'd make great recon vessels as well. They were large enough that a small crew could be left on board for several days at a time on a rotation. Thoughts in mind, he said, "Greyman, I'm heading down to Engineering. I have something to discuss with Richards."

"Aye, sir! I'll hold the fort."