Part 11

Even as the two fleets fought, the fighters skirmished amongst them, vying for supremacy as they fought to survive. There were thousands of them, twisting, turning, swerving, corkscrewing. Each side had several designs in space. Some were bombers, sacrificing speed and maneuverability for firepower, designed to attack and destroy capitol ships while enduring the withering point defense fire such powerful vessels could produce. Still others were interceptors, lightly armed and slow on the helm but faster than anything else, attempting to reach and destroy bombers. Still others were fighter/bombers, designed to counter interceptors even as they bombed a capitol craft, the most massive of the fighter designs.

In between the dueling bombers and interceptors, vying to destroy each other, were the true fighters. Twisting, swerving, pulling turns with G forces upwards of 100 Terran gravities, inertial compensators squealing as they attempted to protect their pilots. Powerful engines sputtered and roared in turns as pilots used not only speed and acceleration advantages but also the ability to go from full acceleration and no acceleration to trick their opponents. Twisting, turning, dying, fighting, they engaged in massive battles as they struggled. The true fighters, the dogfighters.

Again and again they clashed, and when they ran out of ammo returned to base. The capitol ships moved around each other as their fighters died, attempting to bring themselves to bear against each other. Missiles filled the void between the vessels, and energy beams strong enough to vaporize small towns, but focused to energize an area the size of the head of a pin, crisscrossed as they fought. Squadrons of Stilettos acted as oversized fighters, twisting and turning to avoid enemy fire as they fought their way into beam range, then turning in and firing blast after blast of mauler energy at vessels many times their size while accelerating directly at their target. Many died in those attacks, but their firepower wreaked havoc across their targets hulls. Poignard squadrons wove around them, firing blast after blast without a break in their evasive maneuvers.

Massive Krios class dreadnoughts launched waves of powerful missiles straight into the enemy leviathans, saturating their point defense and hitting their shields with blasts capable of vaporizing entire moons. Blast after blast hit them, and still the shields held. The Krios squadrons shrugged off the few fighter attacks that reached them, despite their weak shields, as their massive PD batteries caused losses no fighter wing could survive.

Even larger Relentless class carriers launched wave after wave of fighters, re-arming as fast as they could those fighters that managed to survive long enough to empty their weapons. They absorbed massive amounts of damage on their shields, as their dogfighters acted as their PD to free up the room necessary for truly powerful shields.

The two sides struggled, the lighter energy units of the Terran Federation weaving complex designs and patterns around the much more massive and slow- footed leviathans. Yet despite the efforts of the defenders, the leviathans just kept on moving, slowly forcing their way deeper and deeper into the system, heading straight for the planet nearest the starlane. Those massive mountains of gleaming metal absorbed firepower that would have destroyed any lesser craft, and worse yet they did so without taking any appreciable damage. Steeldriver squadrons, equipped with massive spinal-mount force projectors that attempted to slow or stop a ship, sent wave after wave of pure force straight into the leviathans, and barely managed to slow them down. Lance squadrons sent their own phasor fire into the fray, specially designed beams that had a width measured in the trillionth of a meter, attempting to penetrate the leviathan's shields to no avail. Luckily the Leviathan's beam weapons were all massive and too slow to aim, and could not hit the fleeter targets that were swarming her. Despite this, they still sailed on in an effort to reach the planet. To make up for their inaccuracy, the smaller Ithkul missile craft launched wave after wave of missiles, targeting the Terran energy ships. Despite the Terran's far superior PD, they still inflicted what would normally be ruinous losses. Still the leviathans lumbered on, more or less ignoring the gnats swarming them. Several of the damaged gnats, whose engines were damaged, couldn't get out of the way in time and vanished in blinding explosions as they were rammed. Still the leviathans forced their way to the planet.

The Ithkul support ships vanished, destroyed by the detached Stiletto squadrons, slowly robbing the Ithkul of both fighter and missile power. The Terran Federation and its allies managed to maintain a globe around the leviathans, and with the enemy indirect fire groups destroyed, soon had a monopoly on long-range combat. Still the leviathans ignored their opponents' efforts to distract them, lashing out with fiery death that constantly missed its target as they lumbered on, finally reaching missile range of the planet. Missiles larger than small hyper-capable ships were launched, and the massive warheads detonated. Though Kane was out of communication, his strategy worked beautifully, to a point. They were causing incredible amounts of damage to the leviathans, yet not a single erg of firepower had yet penetrated the massive shielding. Then, a tactical officer screamed aboard the Enterprise, a scream of joy, not pain or fear.

"SHIELD DROP ON LEVIATHAN NUMBER ONE! SECTOR 15A! RE-" his voice paused, and then, voice and eyes heavy with disappointment, he said "Disregard that admiral, they got that segment of their shields back up."

Barker spoke up, voice studiously neutral. "Sir, JP-16-1 is ordering all units to focus all their firepower on the dropped shield, in the hopes of bringing it down again. Engineering reports that they may have communication back up soon, but the residual radiation fries the relays whenever they try to test them. You can get one quick burst message out, then they'll have to repair the coms again."

"Understood, I'll save it until we need it." Kane replied. He was bleeding from a cut in the forehead, where an overhead panel had fallen and hit him. He was tired, very tired, and sick with the price his people were paying. This wasn't the first time he'd exercised tactical command, though it was the first time he had done so on a large scale. He still remembered-

"INCOMING!" The tactical officer's scream went over the entire ship, as all the enemy fighters that had managed to run out of ammo without their mother ship engaged in a final assault, a ramming assault.

The ship shook with impact after impact, but her shields held. When all the enemy fighters were done, Kane smiled, and de-activated his seat clamp, and a stealthed fighter rammed the unprepared ship. He was thrown from his seat, and was stunned on impact. He wished he'd left his belt on, and then the overhead above his chair caved in, and a piece of the rubble hit his temple.