flanks, and bring back our fighters. Our shields will also have to be dropped.”
He pointed the growing number of enemy vessels.
“We will hold the line, no matter what. We will fight or die together. If one ship breaks ranks, we will die. It is like any other Terran battle, and this is why we continue to win.”
Xenophon then tapped his earpiece.
“All ships will hold position at their allocated marker. Any vessel breaking formation will consider their profits and earnings from this expedition forfeit. You will hold the Kyklos, and we will prevail.”
In the eleven minutes it took for the entire fleet to position correctly, the enemy had moved in and deployed in a dozen groups around the Terrans. Another force of the same number moved in to provide an additional reserve for the enemy.
“Gods. If we stay, they will run us down like dogs,” said one of the junior gunnery officers.
Xenophon gave Roxana a nod, and she marched off to find him. In seconds, she was alongside the hawkish looking man.
“You are relieved. Now get off this deck.”
The man turned to face her and opened his mouth to protest.
“I said, get off, now!”
The man looked to Kentarchos Cadmus, but he found no support, not even from that familiar quarter. Xenophon paced along the deck, checking the crew stations and displays while continuing to send orders to the other ships.
“That’s it, good. Target the nearest vessels as soon as they come into range. Do not spread your shots. A damaged ship can still fight. Whittle them down, and show them what Terran discipline is like.”
Without warning or any kind of hint, the first wave of fighters hit the Kyklos formation like hail striking a roof. Over a hundred fighters moved in at close range and opened fire with plasma weapons. They started shooting from long range, but that made little difference against the static formation adopted by the Terrans. By maintaining the Kyklos, they had given up any chance of fighting a battle of manoeuver. The first barrage struck the outer circle of ships evenly, with flashes of energy as shields took the brunt of the attack. Kentarchos Cadmus looked to Xenophon for reassurance.
“Every single one of their shots is hitting us. We’re sitting ducks.”
“Yes, we are,” agreed Xenophon, “But they have little chance against our shielding and armor. Stand firm, and do not break. If we hold, we will win, I promise you.”
The fighters moved in at high-speed and then banked away at the last minute as they released missiles and torpedoes. The craft were small and their weapons of modest power. Even so, they scattered through the fleet in such numbers that at least four struck a transport and set off a series of explosions on one of the primary decks. Volleys of defensive fire blasted back at the smaller craft, but with such heavy electronic jamming, the manual gunfire was having a hard time trying to track them. Roxana moved alongside Xenophon, watching with him as the enemy continued to send in waves of the large fighter craft to attack them.
“What are they?” she asked.
“They are much bigger than our fighters. I’d say they are long-range craft, maybe scouts. Anytime we hit them, they take only a few shots before burning up. They are not frontline military craft.”
“Topoteretes, the first wave is breaking off. They have sustained only four percent losses,” said Kentarchos Cadmus.
Xenophon listened and found he was feeling annoyed.
“Yes, I know, Kentarchos. The battle is proceeding as expected. Please continue.”
The man looked affronted, but Xenophon could not afford time to placate egos. He looked to the left where two light cruisers were blasting a group of the heavy fighters that had come in too close The barrage of defensive fire was impressive, but as the craft moved through the never-ending shots, he could see they were unscathed.
“Are you sure about this?” Roxana asked.
“Just watch.”
They carried on through the first
He pointed the growing number of enemy vessels.
“We will hold the line, no matter what. We will fight or die together. If one ship breaks ranks, we will die. It is like any other Terran battle, and this is why we continue to win.”
Xenophon then tapped his earpiece.
“All ships will hold position at their allocated marker. Any vessel breaking formation will consider their profits and earnings from this expedition forfeit. You will hold the Kyklos, and we will prevail.”
In the eleven minutes it took for the entire fleet to position correctly, the enemy had moved in and deployed in a dozen groups around the Terrans. Another force of the same number moved in to provide an additional reserve for the enemy.
“Gods. If we stay, they will run us down like dogs,” said one of the junior gunnery officers.
Xenophon gave Roxana a nod, and she marched off to find him. In seconds, she was alongside the hawkish looking man.
“You are relieved. Now get off this deck.”
The man turned to face her and opened his mouth to protest.
“I said, get off, now!”
The man looked to Kentarchos Cadmus, but he found no support, not even from that familiar quarter. Xenophon paced along the deck, checking the crew stations and displays while continuing to send orders to the other ships.
“That’s it, good. Target the nearest vessels as soon as they come into range. Do not spread your shots. A damaged ship can still fight. Whittle them down, and show them what Terran discipline is like.”
Without warning or any kind of hint, the first wave of fighters hit the Kyklos formation like hail striking a roof. Over a hundred fighters moved in at close range and opened fire with plasma weapons. They started shooting from long range, but that made little difference against the static formation adopted by the Terrans. By maintaining the Kyklos, they had given up any chance of fighting a battle of manoeuver. The first barrage struck the outer circle of ships evenly, with flashes of energy as shields took the brunt of the attack. Kentarchos Cadmus looked to Xenophon for reassurance.
“Every single one of their shots is hitting us. We’re sitting ducks.”
“Yes, we are,” agreed Xenophon, “But they have little chance against our shielding and armor. Stand firm, and do not break. If we hold, we will win, I promise you.”
The fighters moved in at high-speed and then banked away at the last minute as they released missiles and torpedoes. The craft were small and their weapons of modest power. Even so, they scattered through the fleet in such numbers that at least four struck a transport and set off a series of explosions on one of the primary decks. Volleys of defensive fire blasted back at the smaller craft, but with such heavy electronic jamming, the manual gunfire was having a hard time trying to track them. Roxana moved alongside Xenophon, watching with him as the enemy continued to send in waves of the large fighter craft to attack them.
“What are they?” she asked.
“They are much bigger than our fighters. I’d say they are long-range craft, maybe scouts. Anytime we hit them, they take only a few shots before burning up. They are not frontline military craft.”
“Topoteretes, the first wave is breaking off. They have sustained only four percent losses,” said Kentarchos Cadmus.
Xenophon listened and found he was feeling annoyed.
“Yes, I know, Kentarchos. The battle is proceeding as expected. Please continue.”
The man looked affronted, but Xenophon could not afford time to placate egos. He looked to the left where two light cruisers were blasting a group of the heavy fighters that had come in too close The barrage of defensive fire was impressive, but as the craft moved through the never-ending shots, he could see they were unscathed.
“Are you sure about this?” Roxana asked.
“Just watch.”
They carried on through the first
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