I
At the edge of a star system, there is very little light, less warmth, and no sound. In this system, at this time, that rule was broken. As a small ripple in space exploded into light, that light was immediately smothered by the hull of a massive warship. With another flash of light, another ship appeared, and another. Ships without end poured into the system, ships built under the light of a foreign sun, ships bristling with armaments, ships filled with warriors longing to make this system their own. With a grace that belied their bulk, fat bellied troop carriers fell into formation alongside sleek battleships as swift destroyers and cruisers took up flanking positions. The order was given, and the ships moved toward their destination – the fortress world of Angar.
A long flight lay ahead, and a dark road behind. In the weeks they had traveled, they had already been attacked twice. The flagship of the fleet, the newly commissioned fleet carrier Immortal had been struck by a cruise missile fired from a stealth attack craft, only surviving due to the speed and power of the destroyer escort, which were able to take out the ship before it could fire again. Another such attack resulted in two troop carriers, the converted starliner Mule and the smaller but swifter Xerxes, being lost with all hands. The wily commander was able to break contact by luring the destroyer Bulldog into a hidden minefield. That ship remained there; nobody was willing to risk more lives to salvage a wrecked ship with a dead crew. Undoubtedly, enemy techs would board and capture the ship, repair it, and use it against the Empire, but however great a boon the state of the art sensor suite and torpedo sensors might be, one ship was unlikely to be decisive, and the fleet had bigger fish to fry.
There was not a single man or woman aboard the vast Imperial armada that thought the transit to the planet would be unopposed. All expected battle. None were disappointed. A small flotilla of destroyers stationed near the warp point, caught under the guns of the thirteen battleships that formed the fleets core, quickly launched missiles and headed at flank speed toward the warp point, clearly deciding that it would be safer to try to break through the invasion fleet and warp out than it would be to try to reach the escape the big guns in normal space. This, too, was no act of cowardice, for the direct course would bring several ships in torpedo range, allowing the destroyers to fire several salvos en passant.
The admiral in charge of the fleet, Armando Mcclure, swore loudly. Coalition destroyers had long been built with different priorities than Imperial ones, but they had always been roughly on even terms. Obviously, these five ships, brand new, represented an entirely new class of ship, with an entirely new mission. Faster and sleeker than older models, they were also far harder to hit. Not impossible, but extremely difficult. By the time a salvo from the battleship Inflexible manged to catch the lead ship, the destroyer's salvo had reached the outer screen. The two destroyers directly in the approach path, Raven and Vengeance each were targeted by a quintet of missiles. Even as chemical-fed fires burned aboard the stricken Coalition warship, a hail of weapon fire vainly tried to intercept the incoming warheads.
Aboard the Raven, Commander Ariana Volshok was personally manning the helm, even as she shouted orders above the bedlam of battle. “Lieutenant Joro, I want a full torpedo spread, now.â€
A long flight lay ahead, and a dark road behind. In the weeks they had traveled, they had already been attacked twice. The flagship of the fleet, the newly commissioned fleet carrier Immortal had been struck by a cruise missile fired from a stealth attack craft, only surviving due to the speed and power of the destroyer escort, which were able to take out the ship before it could fire again. Another such attack resulted in two troop carriers, the converted starliner Mule and the smaller but swifter Xerxes, being lost with all hands. The wily commander was able to break contact by luring the destroyer Bulldog into a hidden minefield. That ship remained there; nobody was willing to risk more lives to salvage a wrecked ship with a dead crew. Undoubtedly, enemy techs would board and capture the ship, repair it, and use it against the Empire, but however great a boon the state of the art sensor suite and torpedo sensors might be, one ship was unlikely to be decisive, and the fleet had bigger fish to fry.
There was not a single man or woman aboard the vast Imperial armada that thought the transit to the planet would be unopposed. All expected battle. None were disappointed. A small flotilla of destroyers stationed near the warp point, caught under the guns of the thirteen battleships that formed the fleets core, quickly launched missiles and headed at flank speed toward the warp point, clearly deciding that it would be safer to try to break through the invasion fleet and warp out than it would be to try to reach the escape the big guns in normal space. This, too, was no act of cowardice, for the direct course would bring several ships in torpedo range, allowing the destroyers to fire several salvos en passant.
The admiral in charge of the fleet, Armando Mcclure, swore loudly. Coalition destroyers had long been built with different priorities than Imperial ones, but they had always been roughly on even terms. Obviously, these five ships, brand new, represented an entirely new class of ship, with an entirely new mission. Faster and sleeker than older models, they were also far harder to hit. Not impossible, but extremely difficult. By the time a salvo from the battleship Inflexible manged to catch the lead ship, the destroyer's salvo had reached the outer screen. The two destroyers directly in the approach path, Raven and Vengeance each were targeted by a quintet of missiles. Even as chemical-fed fires burned aboard the stricken Coalition warship, a hail of weapon fire vainly tried to intercept the incoming warheads.
Aboard the Raven, Commander Ariana Volshok was personally manning the helm, even as she shouted orders above the bedlam of battle. “Lieutenant Joro, I want a full torpedo spread, now.â€