Forerunner Series - Total Eclipse #12

Chapter 4

April 12^th, 2279

Mars Orbit – Ares Naval Shipyards – Dock 114

Warhawk Class Light Carrier El Oso

Captain Jeremy Willis

            “Captain, all sections checked in, ready for departure.”

            Willis was maintaining his trademark stoic front, but inside, he was excited.  Finally, after years of reconstruction on the El Oso, months of logistical nightmares, and weeks of training, it was finally time to put it all to the test.  All of his crew had finally found their way on board, all the equipment had been stowed, and the majority of the problems fixed.  The El Oso was as ready as she’d ever be.

            “Give me shipwide,” he said to the communications officer Lieutenant Sara Glenn. She nodded to him after a moment.

            “To all hands, this is the Captain.  The time has come.  We are heading out into the unknown of space, blindly into unknown dangers or glories.  Our mission is simple: protect the Forerunner.  It has been almost twenty six years since the last ship attempted such a mission, and it’s the first time the mission called for a fleet of ships.  The time has come to show me what all the training was for.  You will be tested.  You will be pushed to your limits.  But if you rely on your training, your officers, your ‘mates, you’ll see it through.  This mission will succeed, and we will all return home heroes.  The order is this: All crew, prepare for departure,” Willis slashed his throat with his finger and Glenn cut the line.

            “Ares Control reports we are cleared to leave dock.  Spaceways are open.  All ships have reported in, ready to launch.  Control has them set on a ripple pattern.  Rendezvous point confirmed, we’re ready to go, sir,” Marks reported.

            “Loose the moorings, ahead one-fourth when clear,” Willis ordered.

            “Roger that,” several said at once.  There was a bustle of well-practiced chaos as people ran through their duties.  Several muffled bangs were heard as the moorings were disengaged, cargo tunnels retracted and outer hatches sealed. 

            “Ares Control, UTFS El Oso, registration LCSS-26258 is loose.  Applying forward thrust and leaving Dock 114.  Thank you for your hospitality Ares,” Glenn said as the helmsman, Ensign Davis applied forward power.  The holo-display in front of him lit up depicting power coursing from the main Patterson Drive to the engines, green all the way.

            Willis couldn’t feel it with the ship’s stealth run systems, but he imagined feeling the ship pull away from the docking collars, slight gravity pushing him back into his seat.  So far, so good, he thought. 

            The El Oso slowly glided from the dock.  The Warhawk class was a ship of graceful curves and flowing lines.  It was actually quite a departure from typical designs.  Most ship designs to this point were blocky and modular, especially the larger vessels.  Dreadnaughts for instance, were extremely blocky, symmetrical, and a patchwork of tiles and plates covering the superstructure.  A ship that size didn’t need to look pretty, and that they didn’t.  But the El Oso was different.  She was not as large as her heavy carrier cousins, but still too big to enter the atmosphere of a planet safely. 

She had an arrowhead design, faring out the aft where the landing bays resided.  The front tapered in to where the catapults were recessed in the front and under the main hull.  The head of the arrow ran straight back along the spine to the bridge windows nestled between the engine blisters.  The communication conning tower rose from the back of the bridge, angled aft, resembling the tail of airborne aircraft.  With the engines running, she looked like a glowing silver arrowhead in flight.

The El Oso cleared the docks and entered open space.  The crew adjusted for normal cruising.  As they neared the rendezvous coordinates, other shapes appeared in the distance, moving in formation with the El Oso, and closing.  They were the rest of the 67^th fleet.  There were twenty ships closing into formation.  Three were much larger than the rest and were the offensive powerhouse of the 67^th: Rhino class battleships.  The Rhino class looked the part, bulky, long and narrow, all engines in the back, all guns in the front.  The bridge towers for the Rhinos were in the front, giving inspiration to the name as well as the massive amounts of ablative armor plating on the ships.  They were designed for war.

The others were various destroyers, frigates, and cruisers.  All totaled, the 67^th Special Fleet was comprised of the El Oso, the three battleships, six destroyers, four cruisers, and six frigates.  It was a small fleet by UTF standards, but was designed with only one function in mind, protecting the forerunner. 

“Fleet reporting in, Captain.  All ships are in formation, no problems.  We are set to proceed on schedule.”

“Understood.  Navigation: plot course for Jupiter LaGrange point 2.  Synchronize jump timing with all ships.  Jump when ready.”

“All hands, prepare for jump.”

“This is engineering,” Grimes came up on the intercom.  “We’re all ready for Jump.  The Patterson Reactor is running all green.”

“Go,” Willis ordered.

The lights dimmed slightly, and the screens showing outside space went offline.  The crew felt nothing.  The Navigator watched his holodisplay as several clocks turned down at different stages.  The massive nav-com AI paired with the navigator crunched the timing numbers and took over direct control of the Patterson Reactor for energy shifts during the jump.  Finally the navigator’s clocks ran out, and the outside monitors came back up. 

“Jump complete, Captain,” Davis reported.

“Verifying position, Captain,” Navigator Hanson said as he scanned down thousands of lines of information, his training allowing him to process it all.

“Position verified.  We are at LaGrange point 2 near Jupiter.  Less than point zero-three percent slide,” Hanson verified after a few moments.

“All systems normal, Captain,” Marks said.

“Well done, people,” Willis said, mentally uncrossing his fingers now that the first jump was completed.  “Continue with the schedule.  Set course for Gagarin Construction Yards orbiting Europa,” Willis ordered.

“Aye aye, sir,” Marks said and then repeated the commands to the crew.

            An hour later, the ships of the 67^th were close enough to see the Gagarin Construction Yards.  Gagarin was a private corporation facility, but it was under contract with the UTF to build non-military ships and stations.  Europa was a prime location, since the facility had easy access to the resources of Jupiter’s moon, and the gas giant itself.  The facility itself was not quite as large as Ares, but had the ability to build some of the largest ships in the UTF. 

One of its docked ships was bigger than the rest and dwarfed the station itself.  The bridge crew inhaled at the sight of the massive ship, it made the El Oso look like a shuttle.  Willis smirked.  Like a giant manta-ray, the ship was winged at the bow and tapered back to the slim-line engine block.  The hull was deck after deck, plate after plate, it just kept going.  The Forerunner-II Class ship Eclipse definitely deserved her name.  She eclipsed everything in the area, blocking the light reflected from Jupiter casting shadows even over the Construction Yards. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce you to FRCS-10, the Forerunner Eclipse,” Willis said.  “She’s only two meters shorter than the Folklore class dreadnaughts bow to stern, but she’s got nearly double the displacement.  She carries almost three thousand crew, including engineers, scientists, and colonist specialists.  Unlike previous forerunners, the Eclipse has some teeth.  With two separate Patterson Reactors, she can lay down more energy fire than most of our fleet, but with that much mass, she’s slow, and there are always blindsides, which is why they need us.  She’s got enough room onboard to feed everyone in the fleet for nearly a decade, as well as enough room to run fighter operations in case our landing bays are damaged.” 

“I hear she’s even got an open-garden marketplace,” a sensor operator said from the trench. 

“That, and extensive recreational facilities,” another put in.

 “For the most part, recreation passes will be trips to the Eclipse,” Willis confirmed.  “Lieutenant Glenn, contact Gagarin Control, request permission to dock,” Willis said shifting gears.

“Aye, sir,” she said while adjusting her holodisplay.  “Gagarin Control, this is the UTFS El Oso requesting permission to dock.”

“Right on time, El Oso.  Permission granted, please follow the nav guides to Dock six,” the Gagarin operator responded.  In response, Davis’ display updated showing green guide beacons. 

“Helm, head into dock.  All crew, prepare for docking,” Willis ordered.  Marks called out on the shipwide informing the crew.  Davis moved his hands over his controls and the El Oso followed the beacons, gliding through space.

Docking was quick and smooth.  Willis and Marks left the bridge for a meeting with the Captain of the Eclipse and several Fleet Admirals wanting to see the start of the Eclipse Mission.  Glenn took command of the El Oso bridge.