This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Muzolf on 2025-07-01 12:48:49+00:00.
“Approaching heat signatures! Vector zero-two two-ninety!”
“Gunners, Flak mode again! God damn it! They are right under us, where our point defense is the weakest, and targeting is still on the fritz. I knew this was too easy!” Markus motioned at the signal they were following on the monitors before."
“Evasive action, hard to port!” People had to hold on, as the Troyan started to bank and strafe to the side a moment later following its captains command.
The weapons officer frowned, this was hardly going to help with targeting any incoming projectiles. But in just a few seconds, he reconsidered as he saw the change on tactical. Perhaps the old man’s instincts were correct after all. Whatever they were getting shot at with, was a lot less responsive and nimble as the missiles from before. And as he learned shortly, a lot more powerful too.
The desperate barrage on the incoming torpedoes managed to take out four out of six on approach, but apparently hitting them could trigger their detonation, as one of them erupted in a fireball that showered the immediate area in radiation, blinding the Troyans instruments in a flash.
The remaining two torpedoes, which survived at least in part thanks to being assigned as lower priority by auto-targeting, were now off course and could not catch up. With their ability to steer being limited, their guidance systems not particularly sophisticated, they missed their target. One of them flying past the nose of the Troyan by a mere twenty meters. These anti-capital munitions were meant to be fired only with sufficient distraction or at disabled targets, and usually larger ones at that. But, while nobody would have accused these weapons of being smart, they had a simple and effective programming, one that told them exactly what to do in case of a close miss.
The detonations shook the Troyan and demolished the fore docking rig, as well as a few of the missile launchers disguised as cargo pods. The front of the ship was now glowing red, needing time to cool down to leave behind a deformed, burned section of the hull.
In the command center, a multitude alarms were going off again, it was not even clear how much of the ship was still functional, as diagnostics were not available. There was no way the crew would be unscathed, even if most of the inhabited sections were in the back, they would need a lot of body bags soon.
-x-
-x-
Kaba was silently squinting at the display while the rest of the bridge crew were cheering. It looked like a decent run so far, despite none of the torpedoes impacting the hull directly. She raised a claw to demand restraint, and raised her voice.
“Full thrust to get past their aft, have cannons target their ventral thrusters. Cut acceleration halfways and turn us around for continued fire on their engines as we glide out! And be ready for any nasty surprises!”
Her officers went to work, still clearly on the combat high, but carrying on their duty as expected. She could already see the enemy ship turn and rotating those pods with the hidden launchers. It was not over, and they would likely have to run after all. It might not have been the strongest Q-ship variant, but evidently it was still a damned hardy one that just refused to die, and she was fresh out of anything with any real destructive potential.
-x-
-x-
“Fire!” Captain Garland screamed, and for once his weapons officer was finally doing his job instead of backtalk. He would make these dirty alien interlopers pay, if it was the last thing he did!
The ship was protesting with creaks and metallic scraping noises as they were turning. With inertial dampening gone, they could fully feel the Troyan shaking in its entirely as the remaining missile launchers unloaded themselves. Firing missiles set to go after heat at this range was more then a bit risky, but for once Markus fully agreed with his captain, that no risk was too great to get rid of their enemy as quickly as possible, not leaving them time to regroup and maneuver.
The ship shook again with enemy fire this time, sudden impacts on the rear.
“We are being shot at! Aft hull taking damage!”
“Return fire! Blast them, damn them all to hell!”
The gunners did what they could. The weapons officer saw the futility of it, even if they had proper ship-to ship guns besides point defense, with barely anything to go by as the general direction they were taking fire from, they were unlikely to hit anything. But he saw no reason to not try, if just to create the perception that they were doing something more. He was putting his faith on the ability of their already launched munitions to go after heat signatures anyway, and it seemed it was not misplaced.
“Yes, they caught something!” He watched as groups of them turned around. He was a bit worried some would come straight back at the Troyan, but their targeting systems had safeties that have been tested in a hundred battles, to avoid friendly fire, even when set to more primitive modes of tracking. And just as he was thinking of primitive, a whole lot of heat signatures were turning up around the target area.
“Oh come on!? Who the heck uses flares anymore?” The irony of that question not being lost of him a second later. If he ever commanded a ship that could not be targeted with anything but infra-red, he would have done the same. Primitive does not equals ineffective.
He watched as every single one of their missiles went after the decoys their enemy just dropped in their wake, detonating uselessly on the bait left for them.
-x-
-x-
“That was a bit too close. Are we clear?” Kaba rumbled, suspiciously eyeing the alliance vessel for any more surprises. Strange, how apparently they were prepared for close combat, but otherwise acted like they took the bait. Were they trying to draw her in with acting dumb? It would certainly match the profile she had about humans, but not the part where they would expose themselves unnecessarily while doing so.
“As clear we can get, if they throw more guided munitions at us now, we are out of decoys.”
“Yes, but they don’t know that, or where to aim now. Remind me later to tell the designers to pack more on the next iteration. Now turn around and let us leave, silent running, we should get out of here as soon as engineering has sublight restored. No way they will be able to follow now.”
The Prowler slowly turned and faded into the background, to leave behind the wounded Q-ship to let it lick its wounds. Not everyone was happy with that.
Ralga raised his claws in objection. “Commander, they have seen us, and seen what we can do, our mission parameters?”
“Are unchanged, but we lack the ordinance for fulfilling them entirely.”
“We can still use our guns! Should we not finish them? They are crippled!”
“Are they? Even just their point defense could damage us enough to prevent our escape by the time we could demolish them with just a few pulse cannons. We don’t know how many missiles they have left, when they might regain control over their phase corvettes. We have no idea if they asked for help that might be on its way, or sent the records of their encounter already to make destroying them a pointless risk. Under these circumstances, i see no reason to further expose ourselves, on the off chance that we could limit what little they learned about us. They should still have no idea who we even are. While we learned of their interdiction missiles, their phase cloaks and antimatter guns. I will do all in my power to make sure this information safely makes to fleet intelligence. We retreat, do not fight me on this, Ralga!”
Their eyes met, the others were holding their breaths. The weapons officer was the senior who could take command if it was deemed that Kaba was shirking on her duty as commander. And in the past, her style of command was occasionally seen as weak by others, her fitness to lead questioned before. He was of near equal standing to her in the social hierarchy of the empire. It would not be a hard sell to their superiors to justify a challenge for command. The perfect opportunity for an ambitious male, especially one who had other reasons for resentment, like certain advances being rejected in the past. But Kaba did not pick him for no reason, despite their history. He was many things, stupid not being one of those. He seemed to consider the options.
“You are right commander, i was merely asking for clarity.” He lowered his head, crest flopped back and taking an overall hunched stance.
“Can the display Ralga!” She always had a distaste for shows of submission. She did not want this exchange between them to be seen as a play for dominance. “I hold no grudge towards anyone in my crew for having questions, or reminding me of my duty when it is appropriate, least of all you. Now, if no one else has anything relevant to contribute, prepare for sublight as soon as engineering reports all green!”