As the Bridge Chronos inched towards the next hour the only thing Admiral Gilford could think about was the approaching test. So many things relied on its success. A total of thirty Assault Cruisers matching the one he stood on now were laid down in Bilbringi shipyards and if they failed those ships would turn out to be either very expensive trash or very unsuccessful warships.
The time was now approaching. In exactly three minutes a crewless, slave rigged Imperial I class Star Destroyer would pass by this location in hyperspace. Of course, that was only part of the test. With the Gravity Well generators on this craft, it would be no problem to intercept it as it passed by.
“Bring the Gravity Well generators online,” he ordered, “and prepare to receive the target.”
As the battle crawled nearer, the bridge on the Denotor was a bustle of activity. Crewmen in the command pits were issuing orders, and runners were hurrying around to give them out. On the Raptor, visible through the forward viewport, he was sure the same scene was being repeated only with different faces.
“Admiral,” a young Ensign called, “we’ve got the first bogey on screen.”
“A little ahead of schedule, but otherwise just fine. Pull back gravity wells to an 80-km radius and charge weapons.”
“Yes sir,” came the reply. A moment later Klaxons began wailing and red lights began flashing as the proximity alarms were set off.
Out in the dark, starry field of space, there was what one could almost register as a tremor, and then another. These “tremors,” usually called backlash or whiplash for some unknown reason, were sure signs of a ship in hyperspace to the unaided eye. As of now, no scientist had found a way to get rid of them, though many were working on it.
Where the tremors had just been there was another and then yet another tremor. And then, right where you expect more tremors to form, appeared the form of a massive, white Imperial Class Star Destroyer approximity 80 kilometers away.
The new arrival was old and battered, and ISD one that had been saved from the scrap heap for this assignment, a fate not much better, really, though if all went well here it and its sister, due to come in next, would at least go down fighting.
This first attempt would be to engage the enemy at long range.
“Captain,” Gilford said, “Signal the Raptor. Tell her the first test will be an attempt to destroy Raptor Test Target one from long range. The attack will commence at my mark.”
“Yes sir,” the captain replied, gesturing to a lieutenant in the communication pit who had overheard everything that had just been ordered. He turned to a microphone out of Gilfords view and seven seconds later, turned back and gave him and the Captain a thumbs up, the signal the order had been relayed and confirmed.
He took a deep breath, his own little ritual to relax tension before entering combat. “3…2…1… Mark.”
From both the Denotor and the Raptor, green Turbolaser bolts streaked towards their target, the massive ISD that had just came out of hyperspace. The late BZ-3 Turbolasers were made for long range and thus could hit that Star Destroyer from out here while they were safely out of its own. But even so, at such distances inaccuracy was inevitable and only about a forth of the great green lances struck RTT-1s shields.
“Consider them ranging shots,” Gilford said. “Retake target velocity and bearings and resume firing.”
Once again green lances of energy began shooting across space, occasionally hitting their target. The Star Destroyer, who had been pondering this newly detected thread for ten seconds, ages to computer but above average for an all-sentient crew, finally began to respond. Lighting up its maneuvering jets, the gigantic ship began turning in their direction.
“Pilot,” he said, speaking to an officer seated towards the front of the bridge, “turn starboard to prevent that Star Destroyer from closing in with us.”
“Yes sir,” came the response.
The gray clad lieutenant turned the control yolk in front of him right, fringe maneuvering jets all along the hull in order to turn the ship right. As he centered the yolk after turning the ship ninety degrees in the ordered direction there was another short lurch to port as those maneuvering jets fired to stop the yawing.
All across the vacuume green Turbolaser bolts from the Raptor and the Denotor streaked towards their target. Only occasionally did one hit, lowering the targets shields by just over 600 SBD. Occasionally a green bolt or two would shoot away from the Test Target, ranging shots as it bore down on them.
Attempted to bare down on them, he reminded himself. The ovoid course he had commanded the pilot to follow would keep them perpendicular to the Star Destroyers course, meaning that it had to keep turning towards them as they moved away from its direction of travel. In the meanwhile, it would be pounded to space dust by the Raptors it could never reach.
Well, this was easy. The next one would be significantly more difficult. Against RTT-2 they would have to close in order to test the ships ability at close in engagements.
Outside, regardless of the firing, the massive white target seemed so strong, so mighty. But Gilford knew it was a lie. Its shields had only enough strength to take one more hit, and then that computer would find out whether intelligent computers experienced the afterlife.
In mid though one of the Turbolaser bolts fired by the raptor struck the target, tearing down its shields and making it completely helpless. They still weren’t in range of its guns and wouldn’t be anytime soon. On the other hand, there opponent was shieldless and well within the range of their guns, a recipe for certain death.
By now it was almost over. The hull of the vessel was pocketmarked with new craters and entire sections of the ship had been melted right off. Most of the remaining weaponry was silent since almost all of the power generators had been vaporized. In his mind, Gilford could only compare the ship to a beached whale. So great a beast yet the position it’s in is completely hopeless.
Apparently the target also knew it was doomed and in a last ditch effort fired off all the remaining armament it had, mostly missile launchers. Now extending from the ship was a wall of projectiles, the only thing the Star Destroyer carried that could hit the Raptors from 60 kilometers away, and even those just barely.
Luckily, this brilliant piece of Imperial Engineering had a solution.
Out on the hull, Swarm Defense Cannons, the latest general-purpose defense turret, and the Raptors four Firestorm defensive banks began firing. The laser cannons jetted out, detonating Proton Torpedoes and Concussion Missiles at a safe range. Other, more heavily armored torpedoes were destroyed by Proton Torpedoes from the Swarms. The projectiles that slipped through this defensive net were greeted with a swarm of fleches from the Swarm cannons Fleche guns. Almost no missiles slipped through.
To Admiral Gilford this was a cause for celebration, just not right now. They were only half way done.
“Close in,” he ordered, “to give the gunners a better shot.”
The man at the helm obeyed and turned port to face the ship and accelerated to top speed at the same time. The two warships were now charging towards each other at a good 25 MPEG.
“Tell the gunners to fire.”
Most ships are designed so that they can bring approximately half of their armament to bare during a broadside engagement. The Raptor was no exception to this. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who’s ship it is) by making it like this very little of the ships armament can fire forwards. The Raptor was an exception to this.
By lining up the Raptors main Energy Weapons (and Proton Torpedo launchers) up at an angle, every one of them can fire full forwards to nearly straight back, giving the Raptor a tremendous advantage in a close in engagement since it can direct its fire on more targets than most ships, especially during an engagements early stages when a battle’s often decided.
Now, with all weapons aimed forward and the target directly in front of them, RTT-1 was in a bad situation, a situation Gilford intended to take advantage of.
“All Turbolasers fire full forwards, destroy that thing!” he called, letting a little too much emotion slip out.
The sight of all that energy shooting towards the target was amazing, but certainly not as amazing as it was deadly. Squarely on target the massive energy bolts slammed into the ship, destroying its structure and breaking it apart. Over the intercom an monotonous female voice announced, “Raptor Test Target one has been destroyed.”
All over the two ships, a huge roar swept over the joyous crew. If it weren’t for thorough Imperial pre-boarding inspections bottles of Ale and Wine would have been pulled out in celebration.
“Settle down gentlemen,” he ordered, “we still have one more to go.”
“Admiral,” one of the greener deck officers called, “RTT-2 has been detected in hyperspace. ETA time is two minutes.”
“Settle down,” he ordered. “Set gravity wells for a 60 kilometer radius. Get ready to dump the power surplus into the Turbolasers.”
The deck officer rushed away to give out the orders.
Those two minutes went fast.
Once again there was a ripple in the space outside the craft. Then another, longer one. Gilford looked up from a document he was glancing at just in time to see the massive white shape of Raptor Test Target two emerge from hyperspace. This ship, however, was an Imperial two, unlike its older model sister.
“Launch Shadow Bombs. Begin firing ranging shots.”
Ten seconds passed, then there was a tremor that passed through the ship and it lurched forward slightly as it lost mass. The scene outside was unchanged, but what Gilford knew was out there was enough to send shivers down his spine. Anywhere from 12 to 24 of the invisible missiles rocketed towards their unaware enemy, now firing ranging shots at them.
“Begin charging the hyperdrive,” he ordered, “as soon as those Shadow Bombs hit use the YHMS to jump up beside it. We’ll fire Gravity Bombs there and then jump out and come back beside it to engage it with the main guns.
“Yes sir.”
Ten seconds passed, then twenty. Finally after what seemed like a small eternity a mass of explosions erupted all over the ISDs hull as the Shadow Bombs slipped through the enemies shields and detonated against the hull.
“Jump now!” he ordered.
Three seconds later the Raptors entered hyperspace, dropping out 10 km later. The ship performed 4 more of the precise microjumps before ending up beside the target and moving in the opposite direction.
“Launch Gravity bombs.”
“Gravity Bombs away.”
“Alright, then continue on. Remember, turn around and then come up beside him matching his velocity perfectly.”
Like clockwork the Denotor tore away. Three seconds later the Raptor jumped out of hyperspace and filled the spot the Raptor had just left, unleashing another unexpected salvo of Gravity Bombs before making the same jump as the Denotor just did.
Thirty seconds later and just as ordered, the Denotor emerged from hyperspace matching the targets velocity perfectly and off of its port side and the Raptor exited 100 km away (there was only room for one ship next to the target).
“Fire Starboard Proton Torpedo Launchers. Tear down there shields so the Turbolasers can get at them.”
On the Starboard viewscreens several dozen of the Torpedoes were seen to launch only to collide with the enemy ship just seconds later. After ten seconds of this the Star Destroyers shields fell, leaving the hull exposed.
“Fire all Starboard Turbolasers, let’s finish them quick!”
A massive broadside, followed by another five seconds later as the energy from the pre-charged port gun batteries was transferred over to the starboard guns, tore into the targets hull, each blast leaving a 35 meter crater. A pair of Turbolasers blew the ISDs 4 main guns right off the hull, leaving nothing but lighter Turbolasers and Projectile Launchers, both ineffective due to there heavily reinforced shields and the Defensive Banks, to fight off this threat.
In a last ditch effort like the first one, the ship dumped all the energy it had formerly been using in the now vaporized shields into the weapons, but it was a feeble hope. With a fair portion of its armament gone and its remaining cooling systems already strained to the max, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. It was already over.
“Very good gentlemen,” he praised. “Captain, we are going to hyperspace in 15miniutes. Get your men ready to go. But first, get me a holonet link with Line Captain Thorton, he’s somewhere around Wayland getting ready for an attack on Bandomeer. I must inform him that project destiny had been a complete success.
The time was now approaching. In exactly three minutes a crewless, slave rigged Imperial I class Star Destroyer would pass by this location in hyperspace. Of course, that was only part of the test. With the Gravity Well generators on this craft, it would be no problem to intercept it as it passed by.
“Bring the Gravity Well generators online,” he ordered, “and prepare to receive the target.”
As the battle crawled nearer, the bridge on the Denotor was a bustle of activity. Crewmen in the command pits were issuing orders, and runners were hurrying around to give them out. On the Raptor, visible through the forward viewport, he was sure the same scene was being repeated only with different faces.
“Admiral,” a young Ensign called, “we’ve got the first bogey on screen.”
“A little ahead of schedule, but otherwise just fine. Pull back gravity wells to an 80-km radius and charge weapons.”
“Yes sir,” came the reply. A moment later Klaxons began wailing and red lights began flashing as the proximity alarms were set off.
Out in the dark, starry field of space, there was what one could almost register as a tremor, and then another. These “tremors,” usually called backlash or whiplash for some unknown reason, were sure signs of a ship in hyperspace to the unaided eye. As of now, no scientist had found a way to get rid of them, though many were working on it.
Where the tremors had just been there was another and then yet another tremor. And then, right where you expect more tremors to form, appeared the form of a massive, white Imperial Class Star Destroyer approximity 80 kilometers away.
The new arrival was old and battered, and ISD one that had been saved from the scrap heap for this assignment, a fate not much better, really, though if all went well here it and its sister, due to come in next, would at least go down fighting.
This first attempt would be to engage the enemy at long range.
“Captain,” Gilford said, “Signal the Raptor. Tell her the first test will be an attempt to destroy Raptor Test Target one from long range. The attack will commence at my mark.”
“Yes sir,” the captain replied, gesturing to a lieutenant in the communication pit who had overheard everything that had just been ordered. He turned to a microphone out of Gilfords view and seven seconds later, turned back and gave him and the Captain a thumbs up, the signal the order had been relayed and confirmed.
He took a deep breath, his own little ritual to relax tension before entering combat. “3…2…1… Mark.”
From both the Denotor and the Raptor, green Turbolaser bolts streaked towards their target, the massive ISD that had just came out of hyperspace. The late BZ-3 Turbolasers were made for long range and thus could hit that Star Destroyer from out here while they were safely out of its own. But even so, at such distances inaccuracy was inevitable and only about a forth of the great green lances struck RTT-1s shields.
“Consider them ranging shots,” Gilford said. “Retake target velocity and bearings and resume firing.”
Once again green lances of energy began shooting across space, occasionally hitting their target. The Star Destroyer, who had been pondering this newly detected thread for ten seconds, ages to computer but above average for an all-sentient crew, finally began to respond. Lighting up its maneuvering jets, the gigantic ship began turning in their direction.
“Pilot,” he said, speaking to an officer seated towards the front of the bridge, “turn starboard to prevent that Star Destroyer from closing in with us.”
“Yes sir,” came the response.
The gray clad lieutenant turned the control yolk in front of him right, fringe maneuvering jets all along the hull in order to turn the ship right. As he centered the yolk after turning the ship ninety degrees in the ordered direction there was another short lurch to port as those maneuvering jets fired to stop the yawing.
All across the vacuume green Turbolaser bolts from the Raptor and the Denotor streaked towards their target. Only occasionally did one hit, lowering the targets shields by just over 600 SBD. Occasionally a green bolt or two would shoot away from the Test Target, ranging shots as it bore down on them.
Attempted to bare down on them, he reminded himself. The ovoid course he had commanded the pilot to follow would keep them perpendicular to the Star Destroyers course, meaning that it had to keep turning towards them as they moved away from its direction of travel. In the meanwhile, it would be pounded to space dust by the Raptors it could never reach.
Well, this was easy. The next one would be significantly more difficult. Against RTT-2 they would have to close in order to test the ships ability at close in engagements.
Outside, regardless of the firing, the massive white target seemed so strong, so mighty. But Gilford knew it was a lie. Its shields had only enough strength to take one more hit, and then that computer would find out whether intelligent computers experienced the afterlife.
In mid though one of the Turbolaser bolts fired by the raptor struck the target, tearing down its shields and making it completely helpless. They still weren’t in range of its guns and wouldn’t be anytime soon. On the other hand, there opponent was shieldless and well within the range of their guns, a recipe for certain death.
By now it was almost over. The hull of the vessel was pocketmarked with new craters and entire sections of the ship had been melted right off. Most of the remaining weaponry was silent since almost all of the power generators had been vaporized. In his mind, Gilford could only compare the ship to a beached whale. So great a beast yet the position it’s in is completely hopeless.
Apparently the target also knew it was doomed and in a last ditch effort fired off all the remaining armament it had, mostly missile launchers. Now extending from the ship was a wall of projectiles, the only thing the Star Destroyer carried that could hit the Raptors from 60 kilometers away, and even those just barely.
Luckily, this brilliant piece of Imperial Engineering had a solution.
Out on the hull, Swarm Defense Cannons, the latest general-purpose defense turret, and the Raptors four Firestorm defensive banks began firing. The laser cannons jetted out, detonating Proton Torpedoes and Concussion Missiles at a safe range. Other, more heavily armored torpedoes were destroyed by Proton Torpedoes from the Swarms. The projectiles that slipped through this defensive net were greeted with a swarm of fleches from the Swarm cannons Fleche guns. Almost no missiles slipped through.
To Admiral Gilford this was a cause for celebration, just not right now. They were only half way done.
“Close in,” he ordered, “to give the gunners a better shot.”
The man at the helm obeyed and turned port to face the ship and accelerated to top speed at the same time. The two warships were now charging towards each other at a good 25 MPEG.
“Tell the gunners to fire.”
Most ships are designed so that they can bring approximately half of their armament to bare during a broadside engagement. The Raptor was no exception to this. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who’s ship it is) by making it like this very little of the ships armament can fire forwards. The Raptor was an exception to this.
By lining up the Raptors main Energy Weapons (and Proton Torpedo launchers) up at an angle, every one of them can fire full forwards to nearly straight back, giving the Raptor a tremendous advantage in a close in engagement since it can direct its fire on more targets than most ships, especially during an engagements early stages when a battle’s often decided.
Now, with all weapons aimed forward and the target directly in front of them, RTT-1 was in a bad situation, a situation Gilford intended to take advantage of.
“All Turbolasers fire full forwards, destroy that thing!” he called, letting a little too much emotion slip out.
The sight of all that energy shooting towards the target was amazing, but certainly not as amazing as it was deadly. Squarely on target the massive energy bolts slammed into the ship, destroying its structure and breaking it apart. Over the intercom an monotonous female voice announced, “Raptor Test Target one has been destroyed.”
All over the two ships, a huge roar swept over the joyous crew. If it weren’t for thorough Imperial pre-boarding inspections bottles of Ale and Wine would have been pulled out in celebration.
“Settle down gentlemen,” he ordered, “we still have one more to go.”
“Admiral,” one of the greener deck officers called, “RTT-2 has been detected in hyperspace. ETA time is two minutes.”
“Settle down,” he ordered. “Set gravity wells for a 60 kilometer radius. Get ready to dump the power surplus into the Turbolasers.”
The deck officer rushed away to give out the orders.
Those two minutes went fast.
Once again there was a ripple in the space outside the craft. Then another, longer one. Gilford looked up from a document he was glancing at just in time to see the massive white shape of Raptor Test Target two emerge from hyperspace. This ship, however, was an Imperial two, unlike its older model sister.
“Launch Shadow Bombs. Begin firing ranging shots.”
Ten seconds passed, then there was a tremor that passed through the ship and it lurched forward slightly as it lost mass. The scene outside was unchanged, but what Gilford knew was out there was enough to send shivers down his spine. Anywhere from 12 to 24 of the invisible missiles rocketed towards their unaware enemy, now firing ranging shots at them.
“Begin charging the hyperdrive,” he ordered, “as soon as those Shadow Bombs hit use the YHMS to jump up beside it. We’ll fire Gravity Bombs there and then jump out and come back beside it to engage it with the main guns.
“Yes sir.”
Ten seconds passed, then twenty. Finally after what seemed like a small eternity a mass of explosions erupted all over the ISDs hull as the Shadow Bombs slipped through the enemies shields and detonated against the hull.
“Jump now!” he ordered.
Three seconds later the Raptors entered hyperspace, dropping out 10 km later. The ship performed 4 more of the precise microjumps before ending up beside the target and moving in the opposite direction.
“Launch Gravity bombs.”
“Gravity Bombs away.”
“Alright, then continue on. Remember, turn around and then come up beside him matching his velocity perfectly.”
Like clockwork the Denotor tore away. Three seconds later the Raptor jumped out of hyperspace and filled the spot the Raptor had just left, unleashing another unexpected salvo of Gravity Bombs before making the same jump as the Denotor just did.
Thirty seconds later and just as ordered, the Denotor emerged from hyperspace matching the targets velocity perfectly and off of its port side and the Raptor exited 100 km away (there was only room for one ship next to the target).
“Fire Starboard Proton Torpedo Launchers. Tear down there shields so the Turbolasers can get at them.”
On the Starboard viewscreens several dozen of the Torpedoes were seen to launch only to collide with the enemy ship just seconds later. After ten seconds of this the Star Destroyers shields fell, leaving the hull exposed.
“Fire all Starboard Turbolasers, let’s finish them quick!”
A massive broadside, followed by another five seconds later as the energy from the pre-charged port gun batteries was transferred over to the starboard guns, tore into the targets hull, each blast leaving a 35 meter crater. A pair of Turbolasers blew the ISDs 4 main guns right off the hull, leaving nothing but lighter Turbolasers and Projectile Launchers, both ineffective due to there heavily reinforced shields and the Defensive Banks, to fight off this threat.
In a last ditch effort like the first one, the ship dumped all the energy it had formerly been using in the now vaporized shields into the weapons, but it was a feeble hope. With a fair portion of its armament gone and its remaining cooling systems already strained to the max, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. It was already over.
“Very good gentlemen,” he praised. “Captain, we are going to hyperspace in 15miniutes. Get your men ready to go. But first, get me a holonet link with Line Captain Thorton, he’s somewhere around Wayland getting ready for an attack on Bandomeer. I must inform him that project destiny had been a complete success.