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The Alexanderov Federation
Book 1 The Grendarl War

Part Sixteen - The Battle for Rrk'g'kreg III (IV)

Five seconds after the allied fleet launched the third wave of missiles, the planetary defenses of Rrk'g'kreg III began to fire on the incoming missiles. But there were way too many missiles and not enough fighter groups left. P'daR'T'S had little time to think. Did the larger number of missiles and the suicidally charging ships mean the humans were getting desperate and running out of missiles? Or was it just a feint? He didn't know, but he knew he had to stop them at any cost.

He opened a channel to his remaining three IF orbitals and ordered a full burst fired at the incoming ships. Then he ordered his carrier/IF frigates to fire their second wave of missiles and the planetary missile bases to fire again, targeted on the allied PD screen. If he could take down enough of those ships, perhaps he could get a few missiles through and force the humans to retreat. Mentally he cursed their diplomatic tongues. Though physically quite unimpressive, unable to do just about anything as quickly as the Grendarl without mechanical assistance, their ability to lie persuasively had cost his people their senate membership and ever since had them on the losing end of this war. Well not today, not if he could help it.

He watched as seven more seconds passed. Oddly, the charging ships made no attempt to shoot down the missiles targeted on them, but just ran right into them, firing to the end on his fighter groups. Odd. Why would humans throw their lives away so callously? Trying to figure out these doznab humans was giving him one hell of a headache. I hate this job, he thought.


But k'Nf'S'i'S was enjoying his. As planetary governor of the Wasilkoff IV settlement, he had a tough choice to make, but he felt he had been born for just this moment. Tough decisions were not a problem for him.

The Psilon made a tactical error, he thought. They should have bombed us out while they had the chance. That will cost them.

He ordered his builders to redouble their efforts. They had almost enough ships. Soon they would be ready.


The missiles just weren't falling fast enough. Even with the firepower of his fighter groups taking down missiles as fast as they could, soon over 5,000 missiles would be in range and start detonating amongst his fleet. Over 500 of them were capital ship missiles that would kill a ship or orbital each without any difficulty. P'daR'T'S hesitated only a second. "All fighter groups, move forward to engage. You're out of range of their PD, take out those small missiles NOW so I can concentrate on the bigger threat."

Few even bothered to acknowledge, they just obeyed. In just over a second, he lost over half his remaining fighter forces, but the missile count was down to under 1,000. His PD orbitals quickly cleaned up most of the rest. But a few still got through.


On the bridge of the Sharktooth II, things were getting just a bit busy. Turley was tracking both the remains of their last wave of missiles and the incoming fresh wave from the Grendarl that would enter the range of their PD weaponry in five seconds. "Sir? It appears that last wave did some good. They are down to just over a quarter of their original fighter force, they lost 6 more carrier ships and all three remaining IF orbitals, and the two damaged PD orbitals look to be nothing but shells in space now. But I can't be sure if they have more missiles on their carrier frigates or not. Obviously I was wrong before, and I just can't say anymore if they have more."

"What about the incoming wave?" Goodman replied.

"About 7,000 missiles this time, sir. We should be able to handle them all with the fighter groups help."

"Order all ships in the PD fleet to no longer wait for my orders to take out incoming missiles, but to fire at will at the earliest opportunity," he said to Lewis.

"Aye, sir," she replied, and then quickly complied.

Apparently, the ships of 57.1 had been waiting for just that order, because most of them instantly opened up, even though the missiles weren't quite in range yet for those that were furthest away. And again the Grendarl missiles began to detonate by the hundreds. The fighters joined in again as the missiles left the cover of the PD orbitals, and by the time the missiles were close enough to cause collateral damage to the ships detonating them, only about two hundred remained. This was enough to take out the remainder of the already heavily damaged front line of the wall formation, but no more. Although 25 missiles remained after the 72 ships there had been destroyed, the second line was a couple kilometers away, and the missiles couldn't close the extra distance in time.

Turley turned to Goodman. "We don't have the firepower to take out another full round anymore sir."

"Stockert to Goodman. We tried your idea. It worked, but did it work enough?"

"Yes sir, I believe it did."

"But my science officer tells me you don't have enough ships left to take out another full wave."

"So does mine. But I can't believe they have enough room for another round of missiles on those carrier frigates. Those ships are just too small."

"For what it's worth, I agree with you. But you've only got one more round, after that we have no choice but to retreat."

"We have two rounds of missiles left, sir!"

"But we won't be able to get the second one launched if your PD screen falls."

"Aye, sir."


A viewscreen to his left popped on. "Sir, we have the last ship completed!" the head foreman exclaimed. A slight breach of protocol, but in this case his disrespect could be excused.

"Excellent work, T'SrA'd. Begin boarding immediately," k'Nf'S'i'S replied. "I want to be ready to depart within the week."

"It shall be done, Honored Governor."

Soon, they will pay...




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