Resurgence - Cataclysm Chapter 11
January 10th, 3153
Allied fleets, New Avalon
2100
“Something is wrong… Something is very wrong.” General Lee states aloud, gaining the attention of Wallner, the XOs, and other staff.
“Confirmed, sir!” shouts one staffer, “orbital pattern on Blakist ships have adjusted!”
“Tell it to me straight General Lee.” States Wallner as he observes data coming through above the holotable as images and patterns hover above it.
“They are tightening the noose…” Lee makes a pulling apart with his hands like he is strangling a cylindrical object. “Or better yet, think of a whirlpool. When an object gets trapped in a whirlpool, it typically sinks. They have become the whirlpool.”
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“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Wallner states, sounding unsurprised. “It has been damn fine working with you aboard the Refuge General Lee, I think it is time to return to the Michael Saille.”
Lee extends his hand and they shake, “Likewise, we will do so again after this is over. I have no doubt that the Nomad warriors will want to kill every last one of these bastards like their ancestors tried to do.”
“Well said, my people are going to depart ASAP, let’s kill every last one of these bastards.” Wallner turns and departs the Refuge with his command staff.
***
Allied Fleets, New Avalon system
January 10th, 3153
2100
“We are not going to arrive in time based on these readings.” Erik adamantly tells the other leaders. In a circle they all stand, some as holograms, Chancellor Danai Liao, Prince’s Champion Erik Sandoval-Groell, Galaxy Commander Dominic McKenna, Galaxy Commander Lars Magnusson, and even Precentor Imala, off to the side of Dominic as not to appear among the other leaders.
“Are we prepared to risk the ships we do have to save the Federated Suns and Nomads? Due to electronic warfare, we are only just now seeing the size of that fleet. Just one of those Swordships is larger than the Rasalhague.” Lars Magnusson’s hologram considers. His question is directed to Danai and Dominic.
“I doubt they were expected anyone to come help; they may not be as prepared as we give them credit for.” Danai says in a hopeful themed response.
Dominic feels a tap on the shoulder and turns to see precentor Imala standing close, urging him to speak. Turning back to the rest of the leaders, “I have a matter to check in on, should take just a couple of minutes.” He steps away as the others continue to talk.
“Yes, Imala?” Dominic says, standing with his hands enclosed in front of him. He is clearly displeased by the interruption.
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“Forgive me, Galaxy Commander, I did not know the Rasalhague was here until just now. Considering the issue at hand is that we might arrive only after the First Prince and Nomads are dead, I have a solution.” He is straight to point to avoid further frustrating the Galaxy Commander.
“A solution? We are too close for completing another upgraded jump, even if I wanted to risk my ships.”
Looking at the now curious Galaxy Commander, Imala stands a little taller, “The Rasalhague. It is a Lithium Fusion Warship with an HPG onboard, we have records of it from the Word of Blake’s Jihad. Part of our cargo includes the components needed to retrofit the HPG into a Slip Tear device.”
“I remember the name from our prior conversations, give me the quick explanation again.”
“It means we can tear a hole in space and send through anything smaller than our Warships. My Adepts can get the equipment to the ship and have it functioning within two hours. They can hold for at least that long with the Harmonia, Necessitas, Black Vector, and Michael Saille combined with the numerical pocket warship advantage they have at New Avalon.”
Careful not to become too excited by the plan, Dominic asks the inevitable question, “What are the risks?”
“The HPG could fry or explode, causing severe damage but would not cripple the ship. If the hole collapses too soon a ship could be cut in half and we could lose the crew and personnel.” Imala pauses and considers any other possibilities then continues, “The one positive element is that we can repair the HPG, again, we have the parts onboard my dropship. Our original mission involved bringing the parts to deconstruct and give the Inner Sphere nations the tools to repair the HPGs down from Clarion Call.”
“Is there a time limit that the hole can be opened for?”
“Yes, Galaxy Commander. As this is a refit, such as the drive upgrade we gave your ships, it can only last as long as the Lithium Fusion batteries have left of a charge. Considering we have not slowed down for additional charging, all that remains in the second charge of the LF battery on the Rasalhague.” He pauses to complete calculations in his head. Dominic waits patiently. “Due to the intensity of the Slip Tear, we should have thirty minutes. We can begin staging ships to pass through immediately and if possible, we can even bring through to us anyone that may need to be evacuated. We also must be careful that Blakists don’t start pouring out of the tear.”
Dominic thinks for a moment as Imala waits. There could not be worse timing to try to convince Lars to let Word of Blake defectors board his Warship and rig his HPG with Blakist tech. “I will present the information to them however; you will join me.” He turns toward the group and approaches his position, pointing to the position next to him so that Imala will appear as a hologram to Lars and Danai. Erik and the others look at Imala with a quizzical expression.
In the silence, Dominic begins to speak, “I have a guest to introduce, as you can tell by the robes, he looks much like our enemy. He has proven to be an ally and one that has come through in our time of need. Stormhawk Galaxy would have been eliminated by the Sea Fox traitors and we would never have arrived or been able to aid the Prince’s Champion, who might have been killed on Point Barrow.”
Continuing, “This is Precentor Imala of a renewed Comstar.” Danai gasps. Erik goes wide-eyed. Lars’ face remains neutral and calm. “Just as the Word of Blake festered under the old Comstar leading to something horrific, Comstar has bloomed from the Blakist scourge to try to stop the slaughter.” Dominic pauses for effect. When none of the leaders say anything, Dominic points to Imala.
“Greetings fellow leaders. We are most thankful to the Galaxy Commander for saving us. Of a fleet of dozens of ships, we are down to a single, functional dropship, and one that is no longer spaceworthy. I have been allowed to listen to this discussion by the Galaxy Commander and have heard the concern that we will not arrive to help in time.” In response the rest of the leaders nod their heads.
“That is why I interrupted the conversation, I have a solution.” Still no response from the others but, they are clearly interested. “It is called a slip tear…”
***
Allied Fleet, New Avalon
January 10th, 3153
2130
“Massive impacts on the hull, they are going all in!” shouts a crewman on the Admiral Michael Saille.
“Keep us in position near the Black Vector to continue dual broadsides as they circle us! I want thrusters keeping us rotating with the Blakists!” Fleet Admiral Wallner shouts before looking down at updates on the battle.
Rotating around the fleets, the Blakists continue to close in, no matter how much damage or how many ships get destroyed, they continue to shrink the space between. If they try to break contact with the Blakists, the only way would be into low atmosphere which would guarantee a quicker loss and the masses of debris falling onto the populations below.
Dozens of Assault Dropships and Aerospace Fighters had been destroyed already in the fighting. Still holding the numerical advantage as the Blakists close, that advantage is beginning to reduce in effectiveness. Intense observation to look for nuclear weapon launches has also prevented catastrophe. Four nuclear missiles have been detonated mid-flight already.
Wallner points to the comms personnel, “Any word from the First Prince yet?!”
“Negative, sir! Between the storm over Avalon City and the chaos of the Electronic Countermeasures in the dogfighting we cannot reach anyone on the surface!”
Shit… Shit… Shit… A sudden surge of vibrations shakes the Warship. Sweeping his hand across the holotable switching to a wireframe view of ship, it was hit by a sizeable warhead but, not even close to disabling it.
***
Allied fleet, New Avalon system
January 10th, 3153
2230
Lars’ hologram stands next to Precentor Imala on the deck of the HPG on the Leviathan II, Rasalhague. Standing over Imala are two Clan Elemental troopers. Imala is very much unnerved even though he knows that what he is doing will help prove to this gathering of leaders that the real Comstar as it always should have been, has returned.
Ahead of him, his techs are working with scientist caste members. A few unexpected sparks and a couple electrical fires later and their refit is almost complete. The Adepts are well aware that they need to make sure they fully avoid any mannerisms that may appear Blakist in nature. One of the Adepts tried to bow his head after plugging in a component and Imala gave him a swift kick to the ribs. Imala then needed to explain to the alerted troopers that some of the new Comstar members, while reliable, still have some of the Blakist mannerism engrained. After confirming with the scientist caste members that everything looked exactly as Imala had disclosed it would, Lars allowed them to continue their work.
“How is it looking?” asks Lars.
“We are currently ahead of schedule. I estimate another fifteen minutes with diagnostic testing, Galaxy Commander.” Imala continues to focus on being the utmost respectful as the two Elementals standing next to him could tear him in half.
“Are the vessels being sent through the tear staged as I mapped out?” he asks Lars.
“Yes, my Ursidae is the point vessel, behind a star of Assault Dropships.” Lars shares. Of course, Imala will know this information when he begins the startup sequence.
Both leaders watch as the minutes tick by. The adepts begin running diagnostics and the upgrades continue to pass the testing process, one after another. Finally, all holopanels display green ‘ready’ confirmations and one panel on the main HPG terminal begins to slowly glow green in a pulsing pattern. Imala stares at it for a moment.
Lars looks at the glowing terminal, then to Imala. He grins, “Don’t worry Imala…” The Precentor turns to Lars, somewhat confused. “You have two very strong guards there. If something goes wrong, they will protect you all the way to the airlock.” Lars continues to stand still, smiling.
Imala can figure it is a joke but, a dangerous one. Lars has taken a major risk by trusting Dominic and Imala’s word. “Affirmative, Galaxy Commander. I hate the Blakists as much as you do…” he trails off as he walks toward the terminal. He reaches down, his palm hovers and pauses for a second. Glancing from holopanel to holopanel, he makes sure all is in order once again before pressing the button down firmly.
***
Allied Fleet, New Avalon
January 10th, 3153
2255
Jeremy Lee listens to the ship’s Captain shouting orders. All of the Federated Suns and Nomad ships are taking huge amounts of fire. So far, the Necessitas has lost nearly seventy-five percent of its weapon systems. Damage is so bad that Battlemechs are deploying onto the hull to support it and fire on the strafing Blakist aerospace and dropships. Really, at this point, every Battlemech still on a ship in orbit is on the hull firing at the swarming Blakists.
The sheer volume of fire from the Swordships and Warships is just overwhelming the defender’s formation. By now, the distance has closed dramatically. A number of concentrated shots from the Black Vector and Admiral Michael Saille crippled one of the Swordships. Enough Naval Autocannon rounds got through to destroy the bridge and it is now drifting.
Harmonia found a way to take on a Warship single handedly. An impressive feat for a Yardship. One nuclear warhead finally made contact with the Michael Saille, it has lost nearly thirty-five percent of its weapons.
The noose continues to close on the defenders with still no contact from the surface below. A wave of Blakist Assault Dropships blow by the Black Vector and strafe the Refuge. The Conquistador shakes violently. “Report!” Lee shouts as the Captain is ordering return fire.
“Sir! Multiple decks are hit, they are firing Barracudas!”
“Green Lead, we need cover, now!” yells Lee into the direct channel for Green Squadron.
“Affirmative, sir, already tracking. All fighters, bring them down!” The Blakist dropships are taking a wide arc to come about for another strike on the command ship, essentially trying a similar maneuver the defending forces attempted when the Blakists arrived at the world. Green Squadron is tracking them and moving in fast from their defensive holding position nearby.
All of the Refuge’s weapons are firing at the enemy ships, one breaks up into multiple hunks of jagged steel as the Gauss Rifle slugs continue to punch through the hull. Changing target, streams of Rotary Autocannon rounds are tearing into another Assault Dropship. Now, the Nomad squadron of Schracks pull in behind and begin firing into the attacker’s engines with their array of Gauss weapons, lasers, and SRMs. Another Blakist dropship explodes under the waves of fire. The final two attacking ships pull away.
With all the focus on the Assault dropships, a new radar ping appears behind the Conquistador… “Sir!” one of the crew shouts, “The attacking ships were just a distraction! A nuclear warhead is coming straight for us! We don’t have anything to stop it!” Seconds later a flash overwhelms the bridge of the ship.