OBT Forum

Entry #3
High Orbit, Terra
Terran Hegemony
18:29 27 December 2766

I’ve got a hard read on my opponents now. One of the Rim Worlder’s two battleships in this fight – not RWS Stefan Amaris but one of her sister ships – supported by a lone Riga-class frigate, four Baron-class and a pair of Carson-class destroyers.

They look pretty fresh, which was a shame because Enterprise is backed up by only four other ships now, all damaged. One Black Lion-class battlecruiser and three cruisers (a pair of Sovetskii Soyuz and a Luxor) might be a decent match for their opposition if they hadn’t already taken a beating but right now whoever won was going to be near-enough out of the fight anyway.

Of course, that excludes my own presence.

The Republican ships can hardly miss my approach – but they can also tell perfectly well that I’m going too fast for an extended engagement. Looks like they plan to tough it out and keep fighting their way through to Enterprise.

“Praetorian, this is Vice Admiral Mrockiewicz.” It’s a grim voice: the man’s seen his whole universe collapse around him in the last hour and a half. “Who’s in charge over there?”

“Just me.” I watched the Rim ships. This would take careful timing. If they caught onto what I was planning they could make it very difficult to pull off.

“Don’t pull this shit with me, son. Who is in command of the Praetorian? This is no time for games.”

Ouch. Sounds as if he’s tempted to fire on me himself. That would be… less than optimal. “My apologies Admiral, but I'm a little distracted right now. No one is aboard. You are speaking to Praetorian directly. I am an M-6C drone warship, subordinate directly to the First Star Lord.”

Hmm. I’m not getting a response. This is a mite ominous. Too late to worry now though, my fighters are hitting the screening elements of the Republicans. Time for some last minute course adjustments.

I’ve overtaken the other drones, although the M-3s should be able to catch up again before too long – those things are fast. The M-5 Caspars won’t be able to – but that’s fine. All I need them for right now is to tip this fight in favour of the SLDF. I can replace them in my command net before I reach Terra.

The only reason the Republican fighters worried me was that they might be packing nuclear-tipped missiles. Taking one of those to the prow would be a bit of a problem. Of course, the warships almost certainly were carrying nukes but by the time I was in range for them to be firing at me, it would be too late – and they might not have any left at this stage in the battle. That was a necessary risk, letting fighters close in was not.

Whether they had nuclear missiles or not, the fighters didn’t have the same weapons reach as the Strikers did. Seven of them came apart as my drones opened up with lasers and LRMs. Then the range closed and the exchange got more equal. Five, six kills… but I lost eight drones.

The seven surviving Republican fighters either don’t have any nuclear weapons or they are too busy to use them as I barrel through the formation. One of them doesn’t get out of the way and I wind up taking him to the prow – fortunately just on armour rather than on anything important. Twenty of the Strikers fall in with me, drives burning to catch up, two don’t – engine damage so I leave them to keep the fighters busy.

Time for final course corrections. The playlist I’m sharing with the Rimjobs switches to Motorhead. “It’s time to play the game…” I sing along with the presumably long dead Lemmy Kilmister. “Time to play the game!” Thrusters flare across my hull as I corkscrew into the Republican formation laughing mordantly, the two M-3s now only a little behind me, their weapons striking out at the squadron’s innermost layer of fighters.

“It’s all about the game, and how you play it.” There’s a triangle formed by the courses of three destroyers and I spin through it spraying particle beams at each of them in turn. Only one salvo scatters across the lot of them and three of my turrets don’t even come to bear but that’s more firepower than ships that small ever want to know – and I’m within fifty kilometres – like I’d miss at that range! “All about control and if you can take it.”

A Carson and a Baron just explode. Another Baron staggers away, it’s spine flayed open but still boldly lashing at me with its broadside lasers. One of my drop collars is slagged. “All about your debt and if you can pay it.” I reward the crew’s determination any yawing over and engaging with my forward railguns and one of the autocannon, they shatter the forward half of the ship almost as thoroughly as the aft. “It’s all about pain!” I bellow as the other Carson, flaming from stem to stern under fire from my three wingmen, drops out of formation. “And who’s going to make it.”

It wasn’t at all likely that I’d have collided with any of the Republican warships on that pass. They were maintaining a sensible loose formation. A collision would almost have to be deliberate.

I saw the Republican frigate snap in two as a M-5 smashed nose first into its side. Then the fuel load inside the drone went up in a tremendous fireball.

“I am the game! You don’t want to play me!” The battleship, RWS Hector Rowe slewed widely, the command crew recognising where the other two M-5s were headed. Unfortunately they’d bracketed the larger ship neatly and it couldn’t avoid both. One crashed alongside, armour peeling away from both hulls and turrets scattered across the void. The drone went sharply dead on my command net. “I am control, no way you can shake me!” I cried out as the second drone spun and brought its drive plume across the nose of the battleship, doing who knows what damage to the various systems there.

The two surviving destroyers raked the M-5 with their autocannon, punching holes in its armour and I cut the command links, confident that the self-defense protocols would take over. Sure enough, the damaged Caspar retaliated rather than sinking back into stand-by mode.

Amending my playlist to give them Thunderstruck to listen to once the current track finished and I point my transmitter back at the Enterprise. “All yours, Admiral. If you have the marines available then retaking the shipyards might be an idea – or at least disabling the ships that are docked. I don’t know about you but I don’t want Amaris using them to replace his losses.”

A long moment later (I flatter myself that he was taking a moment to process the awesome), Mrockiewicz asks: “Who are you really? Don’t try telling me you’re one of the machines – they don’t sound or act the way you do.”

“Believe what you want to, Admiral,” I reply. “You probably have more pressing concerns than existential discussion of my identity. For now, isn’t it enough that I’m on your side?”

“I suppose. Can you wake up more Caspars?”

“Only a few at a time,” I apologise. “And they’ll revert to stand-by if I don’t keep them under control – unless the Rim Worlders are obliging enough to shoot them, that is.”

“You might want to stop singing then – you’re making yourself a target for anyone with taste.”

I laugh – but I also make a mental note: have the drones re-transmit the songs.

Wow, this looks good!

A human computer. Is it linked to the Berserkers?

Love it.

MA

Drakenis this is really good. Love to think of Shattered Dawn beginniing like this. A drone saving Amanda Cameron. Would have been great stuff. Shame I didn't think of it. More please!

Holy  batman, this will definately be watched. 

We have done a similar thing in the KU with the Terran Texas.  It could eat 2 McKennas with ease.