Chapter One
Somewhere, there was a mother weeping for her child throughout the whole ordeal. The entire city of Zarma was being leveled, building by single building. There was no sign in sight that the monstrous, heavily-armed cruisers in orbit would stop, either. The mother looked into the sky for God to smile upon her. She saw a bright flash, and felt heat.
She saw and felt no more.
Another building fell as a laser struck it with insane accuracy. The entire city was going to be leveled. Although many died, many still lived. Whether or not they lived or were simply hollow shells in the aftermath of a devastating war, well, that was an answer best left to the shrinks. Here, a man, his face ruined, sat in the corner of a badly damaged building, crying. The building had been destroyed save for one side. That very same side possessed the cornerstone.
Here, a child, black as soot from the blast, stood naked in the doorway of the only building to survive the carnage. Ironic as it was, the building was also the oldest in the city. The perhaps six-year old child's jaw hung by a single thread of flesh. He felt little, if any, pain. Numbed by the killing of his father and mother, the young boy had only one thought on his mind, and that was to destroy the Republic once and for all.
In another part of the city, people scrambled as guns in orbit continued to rain death and destruction down upon the helpless. The flashes, even from orbit, were blinding, and it was hard to comprehend that every flash meant that ten or twenty people died as a result of the shelling.
*****
The opposite side of the world looked peaceful but nothing could be further from the truth. The palace in Nara, the oldest landmark on the planet of Wareham, had survived the guns from the very first invasion by the Republic, many years ago. But this time, it would be very different.
"The satellites have been destroyed," General Tar said carefully. He did not want to interrupt his Prince's concentration. Tar was a tall man, standing at about seven feet three, had a goatee and was very kind.
The man he addressed was a man ripped straight from the pages of King Arthur's Court. His name was Zar and he had long locks of purple hair that formed an Earthen Dutch-boy style 'helmet' around his head. He was very handsome and spoke with a different accent than anyone else. His voice was suggestive of water, and he, too, was very kind, but also strict.
"I figured as much," the man said, his purple robe caught in a slight breeze. He sat in his father's chair, his father having taken his sick bed. Zar looked at Tar. "I warned my father of the Republic's little greedy wants. They want to use this planet as a stopover for the planet Zarken."
"Zarken?" asked Tar," I thought-"
"You thought it was a neutral world? It is, Tar, it is. But I will have to stop there to refuel on my way to Earth." This brought a shock to Tar. Earth?
"Why Earth?" the man asked," they wouldn't even help us-"
"You may think that they did that just to spite us. I do not," Zar replied, referring to a time a while ago when the moon of Wareham was bombed. Earth could not afford to have sent ships, and Tar believed that Earth did that just because. Just because what? No one knew. Zar continued, "I will request their starcruisers to aid us."
"Earth is already wrapped up with their own war," Tar replied in a whining voice. Indeed, however, Tar was right. Earth and Mars were at war.
"Doesn't matter," replied Zar, "I will go there and persuade them. Or die trying."
"Your starcruiser will never get past that blockade." Zar looked at Tar with an amused expression.
"You really feel that way?" he asked. Tar choked up.
"Well, that is... er..."
"Silence," Zar replied, chuckling, "don't worry, I'll make it." Even though Zar was embarrassed, he still found something to say.
"Please, no suicide maneuvers." Tar said it like he would have said a prayer. And Zar simply smiled.
"If they're going to take me out," he said, "I'm taking them with me."
Chapter Two
The ideas of the Republic were certainly not new. They were not too much like those Empires on Earth in the early parts of the industrial and social revolutions. The Republic of Zion came into being with the joint forces of two worlds: Zion itself, and the planet Juniper. These two planets, combined with the hostile takeover of the planet Bartr, which was actually a spaceport, was a volatile mixture, destined forever to be chaotic.
And chaotic it was. Earth was discovered and contacted in the year 2115 by Wareham. Captain Gar, then the leader of Wareham, made first contact, and an easygoing alliance was formed. But the Worlds Unification Alliance went kaput after a few months. The planet of Mars declared war on the Earth.
It did not seem like much at first. A scattered handful of miners and their powerful robot suits, called 'Dominions,' raided an Earthen defense factory. But what Earth slowly began to realize was that the giant robots had taken the plans and designs for weaponry that was supposed to go on the giant robots.
General Citadel led the first act of open rebellion on Earth by raiding a food depot with his new advanced armored war machine. Called the RK-1001 Vulcan, the craft laid waste to the city of San Diego with one carefully placed atomic weapon. And so began the war.
*****
Zar passed several Dominion mobile suits as he entered the atmosphere. They watched the small shuttle land on Earth. The pilots had an uneasy feeling.
"They must know who is coming," Zar muttered. He was feeling uneasy, too. At any given time, the eighty-ton Dominion mobile suits could have opened fire upon his ship. He wondered if anyone would have given him a prayer or two.
The planet was as much as he had seen it the last time he was here. The economic boom of the late twenty-first century had leveled every tree in existence. They were rich, so why should they worry?
Zar was in a hurry; that was no big surprise. Although in a hurry, he wound up almost getting stepped on by one of the Dominion mobile suits on patrol. Zar admired the things; they were at least fifty feet tall and stood bipedal with arms. Resembling an overgrown human with body armor, Zar wished he had one to fight with.
"Greetings, Prince Zar," the President of the Federation of Earth said as Zar walked in, escorted by three guards.
"Greetings," Zar said in wary English. He did not know the language well enough, it appeared.
"I trust your flight was well."
"It was. I came here to ask a favor, so we should get right down to it." The President nodded. He was not offended by Zar at all. Different worlds, different customs.
"Of course, Zar. Have a seat."
"Thank you." Zar sat down. He looked around. The more things changed, the more things stayed the same. The office was cozy, and had a nostalgic atmosphere about it.
"What can I do for you?" Zar was all business.
"My world is under attack by the Zion. I need your help." Zar almost said 'I need ships' but felt that even if the President could give fighter planes to thwart an invasion, that would be fine. The President gave a long sigh.
"I figured as much, Zar," the man said, "but I can't give any ships or fighters. Mars is growing more powerful by the minute." Zar sighed.
"But, sir, if the Republic takes us over, they can take over you. I would not be too surprised if the Republic takes over or allies with Mars. Mars would have nothing to lose in the situation." The President raised his eyebrows, indicating he had not thought of that.
"Hmm..." he said. "I think I might have what you need, and it's not ships."
Zar thought for a moment and then his eyes boggled. "Not those robots!" he cried. Despite what he had heard about the robots, they seemed vulnerable for some reason ... weak.
"I can't give you Dominions. They're too valuable. We have a new line of mechanized suits going into combat soon. The prototypes are gathering dust now."
"What are they?"
"They're called 'Kelvin Suits.' They're lighter, faster, and more heavily armed than the Dominion suits."
Zar thought hard.
"I think I have no choice in the matter."
"I hate to do this, Zar. If my forces were not so committed to Mars, I would have a Fleet dispatched there in a heartbeat and you know that."
"No, I understand... I... I just... I don't know. An entire city was wasted last night and they're probably now trying to demand a surrender."
"Then we must ferry the Kelvin Suits across space to your ship at once," the President said in measured tones.
"With pilots, I assume?" The President sighed.
"Gets better and better, I know. I can't even commit pilots to your cause. We're losing the fighter planes faster than we can build them." Zar did not ask anything else about the war with Mars. He knew it was deadlocked; hundreds of thousands had died in the first year alone.
"I'd better be going."
The President nodded. "I will have the suits, their manuals, and any other devices ready to go, Zar. Repair manuals, molds for the armors, and other things will go with you as well. The molds are simple to get moving and start working; we made everything universal on these suits for quick upgrades and easy repairs."
"How many are you giving me?"
The President sighed. "Seven."
Zar nearly collapsed.
"Seven?" he cried, with a bit of anger in his voice, "that's not going to do much."
"I know, Zar," replied the President, "like I said, if we weren't so committed with Mars, I'd have the whole Fleet out there."
The whole future rested in a handful of new, untested mechs.
Chapter Three
A suit is not that hard to operate. There are no manual controls to speak of. Everything is run by a fission power plant that requires fuel to operate. The fuel is easy to obtain; all is needed is uranium 235. The main reactor powers the computer and motors located throughout the entire body.
What set the Kelvin suit apart from the others, particularly the Dominion suit, was the advanced armor. Take a wooden ship from the old days of Earth and compare it to the mighty steel battleship. Something like sixty feet of oak compares to thirteen inches of steel.
Well in this case, the ten inches of steel on the Dominion could not compare to the six inches of hypercarbon steel on the Kelvin suit.
The suits were ferried over by pilots who, in turn, boarded a shuttle and left. Zar gawked at the suits but found he could not understand many things. They had been painted red, perhaps to set themselves apart from the rest of the other suits that had so scoured the skies and battled with the Martian defenses a short time ago. But they looked a bit smaller than the other Dominion suits, because they were.
Zar hurried home. He half expected the entire world to be a crater when he arrived, or at least splintered into atoms. But by some Grace of God the planet was still together. He rushed to the planet in one Kelvin suit.
"...Please reply." The voice was mostly static but it was clear that the planet's defenses were locked onto him.
"This is Prince Zar, in a Kelvin suit. I will be landing on the palace lawn."
"Zar?" came the voice, "yes, sir!" The last came with a bit of uncertainty.
Zar landed on the lawn with the mech. Hundreds of people stared at it, unsure of what it was. Zar was lowered by the hand of the mech, to the ground, where Gar was standing.
"Impressive," he said.
"Indeed it is," replied Zar, "I don't know if we'll be able to use these very well, though. What is the report on the Republic?"
"They're waiting for us to surrender. Most of the ships have left." Zar gritted his teeth.
"Then what they have done is just a raid," Zar replied, "so far, anyway."
"Not so," replied Gar, "they have one battleship in orbit."
"Just one?" Zar asked, getting back onto the hand of the mech.
"What? Yes, just one." The hand began to rise. "Where are you going?"
Zar's voice was faint as he called out, "I spent the last three hours in hyperspace, learning the controls of this ship. I will, repeat will, be back."
*****
The battleship was a true monster. Weighing in at three hundred thousand tons, a mile long, and bristling with armor and firepower, the ship stood in orbit with the planet of Wareham, waiting. The ship served as sort of a one-ship blockade or sorts, ready to do battle with any other ship.
"What of the ship that recently arrived?" demanded Captain Tessel, looking at his first officer, Commander Green.
"The ship has maintained an orbit around the planet." A large hologram sprang to life in the middle of the room, displaying the planet, both ships, and a small object headed toward them.
"What is that?" Tessel asked. "Increase magnification." The hologram zoomed into the small robot coming toward the battleship. "A suit!" cried Tessel. He scratched his head with some uncertainty. "And just one?"
"It is obviously an Earth design, sir. Look at the backpack." Green pointed.
"Of course it is an Earthen suit, nimrod," Tessel scolded, "I would just like to know what they stand to gain from such a move. Just one suit?"
"Minor suicide?"
"Perhaps. Once it is in range, target it with the small lasers and blast it, clear?" Green nodded. He was as confident as his commander.
The little robot zoomed forth at a speed that was incalculable.
"Computer, target the weak areas of the battleship. Target the large guns also."
"Targeting complete." Zar tried to remember what the largest weapon on board was.
"Launch bombs."
"There are no bombs, just missiles."
Zar groaned.
"Launch missiles."
Sixteen compact warheads popped out of recessed holes on the arms of the suit. The afterburners ignited, sending them streaking forth into the darkness toward the battleship. Zar turned the craft, mostly because he did not wish to get hit with debris if the ship did blow.
"Incoming missiles!" screamed Green.
"Fire anti-" He got no further as the missiles impacted.
A battleship is a ship-to-ship craft. Even on Earth, the water battleships were not prepared for air attacks. Anti-missiles were common on space battleships but they did little. So when the missiles impacted, Tessel knew at once the damage would be incredible.
What he thought was an understatement. The nuclear missiles were more compact, more powerful than even the most advanced anti-missile the Republic possessed. They hit every sensor equipment and then some. The remaining missiles impacted against the first turret, doing nothing. That part of the targeting had been an error on Zar's part; the armor was strong enough to take that kind of a beating.
"Damage assessment!" Tessel cried.
"We can't even get that, sir!" cried Green, "every single component has been hit!" Tessel looked for the hologram, only to discover that that, too had been destroyed. Earth had a term for the loss of all computer components. It was called 'flying blind.'
"Computer," Zar said, "target the engines."
"Insufficient power to destroy them," the computer replied in harsh tones.
"But if we can at least damage them, won't they overload?"
"They have safeties against that sort of thing."
"Fire," Zar replied anyway.
"I think that that is an unwise and improbable-"
"Enough of that," Zar said with the wave of his hand, "who's in charge here?"
Three more missiles streaked out, this time from the chest of the mech. They were the last of the missiles; no more were available. They struck the large ion drive located at the rear of the ship. Coolant began to spew out of a large crack in the side of the drive.
"Engines overheating!" cried Green. Tessel gritted his teeth.
"Shut them down!" he barked.
"The safeties have blown!" came the reply. "Shutting down impossible!" There was a dull roar.
The booster rocket sputtered once and died. Silence. Then the booster ripped open as the entire engineering room detonated. The entire aft underside of the ship was little more than jagged and ruined metal. Machinery floated around in space.
"What do we have left to fight with?" Zar asked.
"No more missiles available. We do have lasers, but the thickness of the battleship's armor is too great."
"Very well," replied Zar, "we do this the old-fashioned way. Take us to my personal command ship."
Tessel, in a word, was unhappy.
"Stranded!" he cried. "With every system on board dead, our engine leaking more than a baby. What can we do?"
"We can't radio anyone, and we cannot take even the most minor repairs off the list." Green grunted. "Damage controls down."
"I know. And what about the mech?"
"I'm assuming he is leaving until we're dead." Tessel nodded and looked out into space.
"I think I disagree," he said. "I think they believe that we can still repair ourselves and he will be back to finish us off." Green was terrified.
Chapter Four
Rules, rules, rules. Hundreds of thousands of rules have been imposed throughout the years on capital ship fights. No ship may ram another in combat because of the appalling damage that could be done to both ships. No ship may come within a hundred thousand yards of an enemy ship because of likely damage done by 'lucky shots'.
A Republic battleship takes three thousand men to operate, eight hundred of those work in the engineering section alone. Goodness knows why: The computer runs the engines. The rest staff the Bridge, guns, and sensor departments.
A Warhamian battlecruiser can be run by a single person.
The name of Zar's ship was Intrepid. The name literally means 'without fear.' And that was Zar, standing there on the Bridge, his eyes staring out at the enemy battleship that he had crippled only an hour ago. He moved his ship at sublight speeds, fast enough to close the gap in less than ten minutes but slow enough not to have to worry about repulsor jets.
It was truly a photographic moment: Zar, Prince of Wareham, standing with his arms folded across his chest. And had he not been so focused on the task at hand, there may have been time for a picture.
But Zar stood alone, as he liked to be, on the Bridge of the smaller battlecruiser. The enemy ship, compared to Intrepid, was a monster. About three hundred feet longer than the Intrepid, the battleship could do some damage.
But so could Zar's ship, and it did just that. The cruiser opened fire at a hundred yards off the aft quarter of the battleship. Hull integrity went at once in the stern, and in the forward sections of the ship, the hill rang with the echo of hit after hit after hit.
The guns flashed briefly. They defied all laws of physics and engineering. There was no oxygen in space yet the guns, their ammunition exactly the same as those battlecruisers from World War II, still fired.
Tessel found himself swept off his feet in the first round of fire. He tried to get up only to discover that his arm had been broken. Clutching the arm, he rose to tell his first officer to fire. His first officer was dead, with a piece of bronze piping sticking out of his belly. The ironic part about the pipe was that it was supposed to have allowed Green to hold on in case of an attack, and not get killed being thrown around the Bridge.
"Fire!" cried Tessel. He turned to look out at the Intrepid.
"No!" he screamed, realizing what the battlecruiser was about to do, "you'll kill us all!"
Indeed, what Zar was doing was suicide. His ship rammed alongside the battleship as if docking with it. But the collision made any explosion that had come before it feel like a love tap. Everyone who was standing on the Bridge or otherwise was promptly sent to the floor.
Zar had known his maneuver was going to result in a jar, so he had held tightly to the bars on the Bridge. They had been set up with this kind of punishment in mind. And all the while, the guns' automatic reloading feature kept them filled with fresh ammunition, firing at will, turning to toothpicks anything it could find: windows, hatches, doors, and even the main turrets themselves.
Tessel knew his ship was not going to survive even if the Intrepid left it alone now. Even if the ship did survive, he knew it would have to be scrapped, or worse. He rose, his arm throbbing. He looked around to discover he was the only person left on the Bridge.
"Cowards..." he muttered.
The Intrepid backed off, leaving a giant gash in the hull on both ships. The battleship was unrecognizable as a ship anymore, let alone a battle vessel. Two of the main guns had been torn off, and only one turret could even fire out of the two that were left.
The Intrepid stopped moving, firing at will. Zar knew only two of the rear turrets were operational, so he chose to not have to draw fire from them. The battleship was beginning to die.
It was obvious, but nowhere was it more obvious than the Bridge. Tessel stared out at the rear quarter of his ship, ignoring hit after hit after hit on the forward part of the ship from the Intrepid. Bulkheads were exploding, air was venting out into space and the ship was collapsing inward.
Tessel did not have to learn the fate of his ship, for a well-placed shot by Intrepid sheered off the entire Bridge, leaving him to breathe vacuum.
The ship detonated into atomic particles. The core of the reactor melted as it did, spilling radiation into space. The guns on Intrepid ceased firing, having no real target to fire at anymore. The battle was over. The damage to his ship was horrendous, however, and he vowed to fix it. But the ship would not see battle or a repair yard until well after the war was over.
Zar settled down into his chair, having had no sleep for the past forty-eight hours. A call was trying to come through, probably from the planet, probably from Tar who wanted to know his commander and prince was all right. Zar ignored it.
For now, he slept.