Out of the Sun -
(Author Note: Space Combat in the near future. (Update December 2020: Not satisfied with the ending and may try to tweak and adopt this one in the future for a contest.))
Colonel Zhao Meili, Han Forces, glanced at the video in the corner of her visor. She couldn’t see the Jian, the spacecraft she commanded, cocooned in the seven-story tall fairing. But the video showed the rocket they were mounted on as the mooring clamps were being retracted from the launch pad in the Gobi Desert. In the video’s background Colonel Zhao could see her escort, a second heavy booster, on the adjacent pad, its countdown 45 seconds behind hers.
It was recklessly dangerous to launch such heavy rockets so close together, but war always changed safety calculations. The minuscule launch window and the Pact ballistic missile defense threat demanded the risk.
Her co-pilot, 1st Major Monx, sat next to her calling out readouts. His 2+ meter frame dwarfed her, but the height difference only stood out in the formal pre-flight crew photo -- which was classified Top Secret like everything else.
Above them somewhere in low earth orbit (LEO) circled a Pact spaceship, destroying Han satellites with impunity. For 18 months, the Pact had routinely been destroying previously untouchable Han satellites with their new weapon. They didn’t know what the ship looked like, but the Pact bragged about the ship’s capabilities after every successful mission.
Despite their best efforts, the Han had been unable to destroy the spacecraft with ground or unmanned space-based assets, even after seemingly successful strikes. In desperation, the Jian, an advanced engineering marvel, was rushed into completion two years ahead of schedule, in order to destroy an enemy which had become a PR disaster in addition to a military one.
Behind the pilots sat four additional Han Force members in the crew capsule. The two on the left were the electronic warfare (EW) specialist, Captain Tam, and the cyber specialist, LT Kang. The two on the right were the Sysadmin, Master Sergeant Hirata, the oldest member of the crew, and the weapons specialist, Senior Rating Ng, the youngest.
Everyone on the crew had been hand-picked for their skills and combat experience in the war against the Pact. Of course, nobody had experience in space combat. The vast array of counter-satellite weapons available to both coalitions had turned LEO into a killing field. Only the most advanced, maneuverable satellites, or the even newer swarming microsats which could absorb large numbers of loses and maintain their mission functions, dared be deployed. Until the Pact had proved them wrong, it had been considered military suicide to send a manned mission into orbit.
“Jian Actual, be advised Gong Flight successful liftoff.”
“Copy control,” she replied. The first pair of escorts loaded with 16 unmanned micro killer satellites had launched from Okinawa. She flexed her hand lightly over the control stick and bit on her lip. She knew the next sub-orbital escorts would launch shortly. Soon enough, Flight reported a successful launch from Biak Island near the equator in Indonesia.
“Colonel, Dun Flight outbound.” They were next. The next communication came from the Han’s Space Operations Center (SOC).
“Jian Actual, this is Command. The Prime Minister has issued the final authorization order. Good hunting. Command out.”
“For the glory of Han! Prepare for liftoff,” Colonel Zhao broadcast. A chorus of cheers filled the crew feed. She considered saying something else to commemorate the historic, first manned Han Force combat mission into space. But she got a lump in her throat and all she could do was look at her copilot and nod. He reached out and they knocked forearms. She then saluted towards the camera filming the cockpit, sending a salute to mission control just like she used to give her crew chief when taking off in her fighter jet.
Colonel Zhao and her crew were slammed into their seats as the rocket’s three, massive boosters started. She watched the readouts on her helmet display as they shook violently in their seats, riding on top of six million pounds of thrust.
“All systems green,” reported Sergeant Hirata. “Burn is on target; we are on good trajectory Colonel.”
Major Monx spoke up in his heavy Mongolian accent, “We have cleared the blast zone,” meaning the area where an explosion from Nu Flight, the rocket on the pad next to them, could hurt them. Two minutes later the first stage cut out.
Colonel Zhao spoke. “Prepare for first stage separation and fairing release.”
Colonel Zhao saw a line appear in the fairing as it opened, revealing blackness in front of them. In only a few seconds the fairing was clear. The second stage booster ignited, surging them upward into space.
///
Someone on the outside looking in would not see a warship atop the second stage booster, but a massive communication satellite. The satellite was actually just a realistic looking shell, with the Jian hidden inside, part of a massive Han deception operation.
Tucked inside its satellite shell, the Jian was painted a deep black with ship lines which were all smooth edges. Landing gear and weapons were stored inside the hull. Internalizing everything had kept the craft small enough to fit inside the satellite cocoon, in addition to minimizing their radar cross section. The blackness of the ship’s tiles was so complete the ship’s color was dubbed “space black.” The tiles also limited thermal radiation. The result was full spectrum scans would be hard pressed to lock onto the warship.
///
The second stage booster finished its burn and the booster fell away from the spacecraft. They had made LEO.
“Initiate breakup,” ordered Major Monx. The satellite cocoon surrounding them broke apart and fell away.
“Computer, initiate separation burn sequence,” ordered Zhao. The AI executed the first of six, slow burns designed to secretly move them into their final, intermediate orbit.
The launches had been leaked to global news networks as a mission to replace a vital communication satellite. Fake conversations had been transmitted over Han communication channels. Han double agents whispered different stories in various world capitals. Blurry pictures of the fake satellite had been leaked onto the net.
As part of the deception effort, the Jian had been broadcasting a fake, pre-made telemetry signal. The telemetry now abruptly stopped, the final microseconds of fake data signaling a catastrophic failure of the satellite. The pieces of the “broken” satellite would now burn up as they fell back to earth. Pact intelligence assets were witnessing a staged production the Han hoped they would believe was a failed launch.
///
In addition to the Jian’s deception, Han Forces had launched the five, near-simultaneous unmanned escort craft of Gong, Dun, and Nu flights, all named for ancient weapons like the Jian, a double-edge sword which was king of all weapons in early Han history.
Gong (bow) Flight had carried the 16 killsats towards the equator for a diversionary attack on an orbiting Pact weather satellite cluster. Dun (shield) Flight, preceding the Jian on a lower orbital insertion track, carried penetration aides which deployed in suborbital trajectories as a shield between the Jian and Pact radars and missile sites in Chile. They escorted the Jian into orbit within a bubble of active jammers, zig-zagging drones, and multispectral decoys.
Nu (repeating crossbow) Flight, launched just after the Jian from Jiuquan, utilized a similar stealth design, but was smaller. The launch had no telemetry whatsoever and launched onto a radically different trajectory, designed to put its satellite in a highly elliptical orbit. It was an orbital trajectory not normally deployed from that launch facility, therefore not something the Pact was in a position to intercept.
Nu served as an orbital bombardment station (OBS) slaved to the Jian for fire support. Nu was inserted into the high elliptical orbit to provide maximum loiter time over the Jian’s planned ambush positions.
The Jian eventually reached its intermediate orbit, taking nine hours to complete. Every second Colonel Zhao fretted about being discovered. This was when they were most vulnerable. To be seen now when their engines were radiating the most heat, caught in the no-mans-land between the satellites and debris fields of LEO, and the less populated intermediate orbital zone, would have been a death sentence.
///
“Colonel, first communication window in 30 seconds. It will last only two minutes before we’re Amber again. Burst transmission is ready to go,” reported Captain Tam. Most of the time they were in orbit, they would be at threat level Amber or Yellow, meaning any transmissions would (Amber), or potentially could (Yellow), be picked up by the enemy. The safe (Green) zones were very limited.
Under optimal conditions they would communicate with line-of-sight, laser micro-bursts with Han ground stations. Like all things military, they had built in redundancies. They could bounce transmissions via satellite relay. They had backup ku-Band and S Band systems, and UHF, VHF, and HF radio for emergencies. As a last resort, they could transmit Morse code through a strobe in the sensor ball on the hull.
///
The ship completed the move into intermediate orbit. Colonel Zhao successfully had seized the high ground, the commanding position every fighter pilot desired. Time to go hunting, she thought. She ordered the sensor array deployed.
Over the next ten minutes six wires spooled out from the ship; front, back, and from the four points of the compass. Only a few millimeters thick, the wires were highly sensitive signal collectors, looking for signs of the enemy ship they knew was out there somewhere below them.
The array, or any part of it, could be used in a passive or active (radiating) mode. Each wire trailed out 200 kilometers, creating a massive 3D sensor array. Signal processors filtered the data being collected; separating known signals from unknown, terrestrial signals from space, and comparing locations of everything against known space objects.
The two EW/cyber crew members evaluated the readouts, adjusting signal filters a few times for particular hits. They talked quietly with the AI and each other. The mission would very much depend on them and they knew it, both were tense.
As they waited Zhao let the crew rotate to the tiny head, always a laborious process in space, and grab a bite to eat from the mess stores. They had 72-hour sustainment capabilities in their suits, but she wanted to save those for when they were sealed up for combat.
“Array deployed, nothing on the scope yet,” reported Captain Tam.
“Weapon systems green,” reported Senior Rating Ng. “Rail gun in weapons bay one is fully functional. Torpedoes functional.” Mounted in molded canisters on the hull, two stealthy torpedoes provided a long distance, long loiter time, large caliber weapon.
“Drones ready to deploy from weapons bay two.” The drones, known as Qiangs (spears), were deployable combat platforms used for multi-axis attacks. Each carried a large supply of propellant for maneuverability. The first three Qiangs each carried 10 small hypervelocity darts, which physically smashed an enemy satellite at high speed, and a directional shaped charge for a suicide attack.
The forth Qiang carried a small laser dazzler, along with six miniature decoys with jamming capability.
Each drone also mounted passive sensors which augmented the Jian’s sensors. They allowed for triangulation and remote target queuing without the Jian having to turn on its radar, meaning a target might not know they were being shot at until a weapon arrived.
Now the crew waited. Colonel Zhao reflected on how similar this was to submarine warfare. Stealth, delicate movements, and hours of listening. For their training, they had deployed on a Han submarine for a week to get a feel for what combat in these conditions was like. Boredom and terror in equal parts.
///
Colonel Zhao knew she had walked a hard path to get here. A ghost child, the unregistered, second child in her family, she lacked access to most official education, despite her obvious intellect. She was home schooled by her mother, who saw the promise in her daughter, and dreamed of becoming a Taikonaut. Her mother privately lamented the life she had fated for her daughter by being the illegal, second child in a male dominated society.
Showing an aggressiveness as strong as her intellect, and despite the institutional obstacles, she forced her way into university once she turned 18. She quickly was recognized for her understanding of physics, and fell in love with aeronautics. The Air Force after university seemed a natural fit for her skills and personality – smart, aggressive and bold. She had needed all of it.
Every single step to the present day had been a fight. Only by scoring better than all the male candidates in her training group was she admitted to pilot training. She became the best basic flight school pilot of her class, although the award was given to her male runner up. Afterwards they tried to push her into piloting transports but she made enough of a racket they relented and sent her to fighter training instead.
She was eventually assigned to a fighter regiment in Tibet flying obsolete 3rd generation aircraft, while pilots with inferior skills were assigned the 6th and 7th generation stealth fighters. It was only once the war began between the Han forces, a coalition of East and South Asian countries led by China, and the Pact, consisting of most of South America and sub-Saharan Africa, did things change.
Zhao and her regiment were redeployed from Tibet and sent into battle in their obsolete aircraft against front line Pact planes and drones coming out of Brazilian and South African factories. They were not expected to survive.
Zhao beat the odds and came out victorious, with eleven kills in four months. From a regiment of 40 pilots, only six of them had survived. The PR possibilities were obvious to the Han command, and suddenly she found herself in front of the media flying the latest 7th generation aircraft, a heroine for the new age, or so said the press officers.
More kills and fame followed. Put into the latest combat aircraft she grew into a superb combat pilot with a finely-honed killer instinct, eventually given command of her own regiment. But some things didn’t change. When the Air Force started looking for a pilot to command a secret space mission, she wasn’t even considered.
However, the government had created a PR beast it couldn’t control. She put immense pressure on her superiors, and fearing a loss of face if it became public they wouldn’t consider their top combat ace, who had also tested in the top .5% of all Taikonaut candidates, the Air Force ultimately selected her to command the Jian.
That was eight months in the past. Every 18 to 20 hour day since had been spent in training and combat simulations as the Jian was completed. She had achieved her childhood dream of going to space, now she just had to survive it.
///
Captain Tam spoke after twenty minutes. “Ma’am, we are not being tracked. Recommend we deploy the Qiangs.” Weapons bay two silently opened and the drones floated out, pushed away with propellant bursts as they crossed over Antarctica, heading north towards Africa on their next orbit.
After seven hours and five orbits, Zhao admitted the ambush location was a dud. She ordered a redeployment and they started over. Retracting an ambush was just as tedious as deployment. The sensor array was reeled in, and the drones recalled.
Over the next day-and-a-half they shifted position twice, moves designed to put them in alternate orbital tracts to protect different Han satellites. Each time they came up empty and had to reel in the array, recall the drones and start again, shifting two or three degrees in the orbital plane.
To keep everyone fresh, Colonel Zhao had the crew rotate through mandatory downtime and hypnotic-induced sleep. Each crew member was on a rotating 12-hour schedule when they were not at high readiness, with three hours off duty and nine hours of sleep in their chairs. Most took the time off to watch a vid or read an e-book while getting some food. LT Kang used her time to study for exams for her doctoral degree.
Other than the lavatory, there was no space to move around and they were confined to their chairs, strapped in at all times. They all had mandatory exercises each had to do in their seat for 30 minutes twice a day to maintain circulation.
///
Pre-flight intelligence had narrowed the enemy ship’s location to three general tracks. The first two hadn’t checked out. They knew the Pact spacecraft they were hunting had some sort of stealth capability and was well armed. Otherwise they had little to go on.
At their next communication window, they got a lead. Han intelligence had rechecked all space objects in range of their next position and realized one of the debris fields had slightly changed shape, and now registered more mass. The Jian was ordered to give this debris field a priority look.
Thirty-seven hours into their mission they made contact.
“I got a hit,” announced Captain Tam. “Burst transmission just intercepted from Pact ground station oriented towards coordinates,” he read off a location. “Navigational database matches the debris field in question. AI is reporting a possible contact with +/- 65% probability it’s our target.”
“Firm it up,” ordered Zhao. “Weapons, start a plot.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” Both Tam and Ng chorused.
After a few minutes, Captain Tam spoke again. “Ma’am, computer has upgraded it to a probable contact. Qiang two is picking up unrecognized power plant readings. Sensor array is registering side lobes of a short-range navigation radar. They’ll be passing within 52,000 km of our position in nine minutes. Putting it up on the screen.”
On the inside of all their helmets, a 3D map of the ships’ competing orbital trajectories appeared, along with those of the drones. They only had to turn their heads to orient themselves to where the enemy was located. The helmet made it look like they were looking through the skin of the spacecraft, and the AI provided augmented tracking cues, drawing lines in virtual space.
“Weapons here. We don’t have a good shot at them this pass, they are too far off axis. If they maintain their current orbital path we would be in the best firing position in about three orbits.” The Colonel and 1st Major chatted.
“What do you think?” she asked on their private net.
“They have to be coming up on their sustainment limit. They’re past 96 hours already from when their launch was detected. Not sure we should wait.” Zhao pondered that.
“Sergeant, let’s get a look with the optical telescope, see what we’re up against.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The sensor ball in the nose rotated and the zoom lens of the optical telescope tracked the point in space with their bogey. The screens shifted to the telescope’s video.
At first there was nothing. Then a small glint of light appeared, which the AI pinpointed by superimposing an orange tracking circle on it with speed and distance readouts. Once back-lit as it crossed North America, they got their first good look at the enemy. The target circle changed to a red triangle.
“It looks like it was made in somebody’s garage!” Blurted out the weapons officer.
How they hell did they get someone to fly that thing, thought Zhao.
Unlike the sleek lines of their spaceship, the enemy ship was kludge. The body appeared to be a repurposed cargo pod. Its only visible weapons, a pair of rail guns, were externally mounted. The enemy warship was less than a third the size of their ship and couldn’t possibly carry more than two crew members.
“You know what,” Colonel Zhao said slowly, thinking it through out loud. “Looking at that ship, I bet we have been killing them time and again. But that ship is so basic in design, they’re able to quickly make replacements and pretend it is the same ship… maybe even launch more than one at a time!” It was disconcerting to realize they had been the victim of a Pact disinformation campaign for almost two years all while trying to deceive the Pact themselves.
In comparison to the bare-bones ship in their viewer, the Jian was a high-tech wonder which had taken almost two years to fully design and build, and that was a rushed operation. “I’m not even sure it’s designed to land, they might be one way missions.”
The implications of this new intelligence sunk in with the crew. Colonel Zhao became more concerned with how she would eventually engage the enemy. Fighting an enemy who was much better at deception than previously assessed, and possibly didn’t care if they lived or died, was a highly dangerous proposition.
“My god they got balls! No wonder we couldn’t find them,” said LT Kang. The Pact had actually flown their craft into the middle of a debris field and wore it as a cloak. They likely took some structural damage just pushing their craft into the field. Colonel Zhao was impressed. That was some fancy, and reckless, flying.
“Sergeant, make sure we’re recording all of this and beam it back at the first window. Everyone doublecheck their systems to make sure they don’t have a wingman.”
Her pilot instincts looked for any tactical advantage. “We won’t wait for the optimal firing orbit. 1st Major, I want the drones deployed in a half moon across their orbital track. We’ll lead the attack with the drones while still over the horizon, and directly engage when we crest the Pole and have the sun at our back.” Any fighter pilot worth their wings tried to attack out of the sun. And Zhao was a great fighter pilot.
Senior Rating Ng spoke up, “If they evade low they’ll quickly run out of space and be forced to deorbit. I’ll have the Nu ready to dirty up their reentry.” Zhao liked this and concurred.
“In the meantime, onboard weapons remain masked,” Zhao continued. “I’m hoping they’ll try and evade high. Then we can hit them with our rail gun and torpedoes to finish them off.
“Captain, continue with passive monitoring on array four, and reel in the rest of the sensor net so we can better maneuver. When it is time to attack, I want to go active but only in the last sector.” The array sector farthest from the Jian would be radiating. If the enemy shot back on a reciprocal bearing to the radar, they would be 150 km off target.
///
The clock ticked down until their planned attack would commence. Suddenly Colonel Zhao was jolted by a panicked voice in her headset.
“Colonel!” stammered LT Kang. “We’re receiving a transmission while Amber.”
Colonel Zhao’s adrenaline spiked. It probably wouldn’t be enough to pinpoint their location, but now the Pact would know they were here. The transmission from SOC was brief.
Enemy drone confirmed in debris field.
“Curse their ancestors they burned our ambush to tell us something we already knew!” Colonel Zhao was beside herself. “If we pull this off I’m going to turn the Nu on SOC.” She steadied herself, attempting to push the anger aside.
“Rating Ng, drone status?”
“Just sent their final movement orders, executing burn now,” he replied.
“Captain Tam, any indication the Pact heard the transmission?”
Both EW officers were frantically scanning their scopes. “Nope, nothing ye… Wait! Shit! We just got swept. Space tracking radar. No lock on, just a sweep.”
Well Damn, they responded much faster than I hoped they would. She looked around at the hull and said a silent prayer that the engineers had done their work to make the ship as invisible as the program budget allowed.
“Report out all contacts Captain.” Captain Tam and LT Kang worked their scopes.
“Colonel, getting additional sweeps, but they seem to be focusing on the Qiangs. They’re not as stealthy so the Pact may be getting some hits.”
1st Major Monx grunted. “Timing couldn’t be worse, next two orbits take us directly over Pact territory.”
Colonel Zhao just nodded in reply. This was going to shit fast. She looked off with her helmet at the bogey in its red triangle. It hadn’t reacted in any way -- yet.
“Freeze the Qiangs!” she ordered. The drones were not in position yet and if she pushed the burn they would be seen by the Pact for sure. Freezing the drones meant they would have to wait until orbits converged again, this time over the Pact homeland. Zhao fumed at the missed opportunity.
Two hours went by as their orbits pulled them apart, then slowly brought them back together. She caught herself several times chewing on her lip. She had never done that while in aerial combat, there wasn’t time. The waiting wore on her.
As they started to cross the north Pacific, Captain Tam spoke up. “Colonel, I think they’ve finally found the Qiangs. I’m picking up target acquisition and fire control radars.”
Damn, still too far away to launch the darts.
“Do we have a Morse window?” The ship indicated they were in line-of-sight of a terrestrial station tracking their position. Quickly she composed a short update. She didn’t want to risk a radio transmission.
“Qiangs located by enemy. Engaging. Request all available support. Tallyho!” Seconds later the tracking station recorded the faint message blinking from space.
“Colonel, they’ve locked onto Qiang number two. I have heat signatures indicating ground missile launch!”
They waited. Nothing like the movies, the Colonel thought. Space combat is advanced calculus and trigonometry. She remembered the lessons from the simulator. Ninety-five percent of the battle is over before a shot is fired. Surprise and orbital positioning dictates the winner. She liked their chances. The enemy was probably dead already and just didn’t know it. She sent a delayed attack order to the drones.
“Can we use the Nu to suppress the fire control radar?” Zhao asked.
“Negative Colonel. About to dip below the horizon. We’ll lose coverage for 37 minutes until it comes up on the far side.”
The drones, enemy ship, and the closing ASAT missile, all being at a lower altitude, dipped below the horizon and out of sight. They wouldn’t see any of them again for almost 40 minutes. She tasted blood on her lip while she waited.
///
The enemy ship was on the other side of the planet when their attack started. Out of sight from both the Jian and their target, Qiang one fired hypervelocity darts into the incoming path of the spaceship, still over 100,000km away. Qiang two was not so lucky, the Pact ASAT missile destroying it before it could launch. Qiang released its darts. Qiang four launched the miniature decoys to provide jamming support.
Timed to coincide when the enemy ship came into range of the Jian’s rail gun, the computer had structured the dart attack so a 200km square kill box of darts would envelop the enemy ship’s calculated position. The AI calculated a maximum +/- 97% chance of a hit.
The clock ticked down, each second raising the kill probability. The Colonel fretted but didn’t say anything as they waited. She knew it would be mayhem when they crested the Pole.
The Jian zoomed over the northern Pole and into a battlefield of electronic chaos.
“CONTACT!” Called out Captain Tam. “I got multiple radars from the ground and the enemy ship. They see the darts and are maneuvering.” He continued to read the data. “Looks like they got Qiang three with a laser. Qiangs one and four still responding.” The loss of the two drones and one quiver of darts had significantly lowered the AI’s kill probability.
“Go active on the array! And have Qiang four commence attacking with the dazzler.” The weapon on Qiang four would not destroy the enemy craft, but it could fry or blind external systems if they were not shielded.
The Jian’s sensor array started radiating, revealing their presence but pinpointing the enemy ship’s exact location for their own weapons.
“Countermeasures, start jamming. They can see us, time to change that. Cyber, start your attack.”
“On it, Colonel,” replied LT Kang. She started launching cyber-attacks beamed towards the ship, hoping to find an open data port she could penetrate.
“Colonel, looks like they got cyber weapons of their own. I’m getting massive port scans and DDOS attempts.”
“Keep them out of our goddamn net!” Colonel Zhao bellowed, knowing a virus would kill them faster than a bullet.
“Roger that Ma’am,” LT Kang said as her hands blurred across a virtual keyboard.
“Colonel, the enemy ship is maneuvering. I don’t have a true bearing yet but it looks like it is moving up.”
Perfect! Thought the Colonel.
“On my mark, unmask weapons bay one. Ng, I want the remaining Qiang detonated to cover any possible reentry path with debris. Drive them to us.”
“Yes Colonel!” Ng punched in the calculations with the AI’s help. “Plotting set.” The Colonel flipped her visor to a split screen, one half showing the plot, the other the telescope view of the enemy craft.
On the video monitor Zhao could see the rail guns on the enemy warship swivel and start firing. Suddenly there was a beam of light on the periphery. A ground-based Pact laser was firing.
“Colonel, they are firing on a reciprocal bearing towards our sensor array with one gun, and the other is firing towards the darts… they are also being targeted by an orbital laser in LEO.” There was a pause. “Ma’am, I think they are trying to cut a path through the darts!”
Indeed, that was the case. The Colonel could see several darts had been hit by either laser fire or the rail gun. The enemy ship was clearly trying to escape.
“Countermeasures, I want jamming to focus on the enemy spaceship. We need to break their communication with the lasers.”
“Jamming pod is active. We are illuminating!!!” What Sergeant Hirata meant was the enemy could possibly calculate their true position because the jamming pod was hull mounted.
The battle became a cat and mouse game of electronic warfare and cyber-attack.
“Can the Nu engage yet?” asked Zhao.
“Yes ma’am, 30 seconds,” reported 1st Major Monx.
“Start putting metal on targets! Continuous fire on Pact ground targets, with priority order being lasers, radars, then ASAT batteries until it runs out of ammunition or runs out of targets.”
“Yes Ma’am, on it.” Weapons sent orders to the OBS via satellite relay. The OBS started firing depleted uranium-titanium slugs every five seconds. Encased in terminal heat shields, they burned through the atmosphere and started impacting ground targets.
“Colonel, I got another transmission from SOC,” reported Captain Tam. “The Navy was able to sneak in a submarine drone west of Nigeria loaded with six ASAT missiles!”
“About fucking time we got some support. But I’ll be damned if the Navy is going to splash our target! Tell them to engage the Pact ASAT missiles but not the ship. It’s ours.”
///
Colonel Zhao took a moment to scale back the display and evaluate her options. Other than the Pact ground lasers, none of the other Pact ordinance headed her way was an immediate threat. Space was still a pretty big place and there was time until any of it arrived. What she feared most were unidentified orbiting Pact weapon platforms, or a second ship. The kill probability for their target was growing, but not was high as she wanted. It was time to deploy her biggest weapon.
“Weapons, launch torpedo one, but not directly at the enemy ship. I want it to take a dog-leg left like this at slow speed,” she drew in the air and the AI created the path on the targeting plot. “Once it reaches this point,” she stabbed at the air, “I want it to turn in and go to full speed, using a gravity assist from the planet for a velocity boost. Set it for passive tracking as long as possible, and only go active radar when it is almost down their throats so they can’t maneuver.” Less than 15 seconds later the craft gently shook as the stealthy missile left its canister.
“Colonel! The enemy is firing directly at us!” In response, the Jian launched a radar decoy to draw laser fire away from the ship.
“Evasive maneuvers! Was it ground-based or orbital?” The ship started going through pre-programmed evasive maneuvers designed to confuse the enemy’s targeting. A beam of light went past the ship, only 80 kilometers away.
“Sonofabitch,” muttered Sergeant Hirata, watching the brief electrical surge in his systems spike on the screen. Any closer and we’re toast. “That one was orbital. They tried a high deflection shot from a satellite in LEO just about to drop below the horizon. I think the distortion of firing through the atmosphere to get to us from that far away threw off their targeting, just a little.”
“Nothing we can do about it now. Begin rail gun engagement,” ordered Zhao. She could feel their rail gun in weapons bay one start firing, sending a jar through the ship every few seconds.
“Countermeasures, deploy remaining decoys!” Two more decoys went shooting out in different directions, making electronic mayhem that screamed, “shoot me!”
“Weapons here. I have launches from the sub. Four look like they are targeting Pact missiles headed for us, two appear to be targeting the enemy craft.”
“The Navy couldn’t resist trying to steal our kill,” muttered 1st Major Monx. He looked at his screen in dismay and scowled. They waited.
///
The plot showed the enemy ship was probably doomed. Too many darts remained and with Qiang three’s debris field added, they appeared trapped. The calculated kill probability crept past 90%. Colonel Zhao saw the moment the enemy realized they were probably doomed.
With a flurry of burns, the enemy ship reoriented to point directly towards their position. It wasn’t to escape; the trap had been successfully sprung. Colonel Zhao realized they had repositioned to more easily lay guns on target until they were destroyed.
“BEACHHEAD! I got beachhead!” screamed LT Kang[AC1] . She had established a cyber “beachhead” within the enemy’s computer network. When the enemy ship had turned towards the Jian, it exposed their optical telescope. LT Kang’s morphing malware entered the optical lens as random bits of sensor data, and recombined within the processing core once past the firewall. It was now beaconing back to the Jian it had successfully penetrated the network and was holding open a data port.
“Burn ‘em LT!” ordered 1st Major Monx.
“Shoving it up their ass now Sir!” she replied. She beat off the enemy network’s counterattack and held open the breach in the firewall long enough to get the kill software inside. The breach was open less than 20 seconds but it was enough.
The kill software was the most vicious, military grade cyber malware available. It started destroying any programming it could find, a cyber equivalent of an ancient warrior, gleefully rampaging through the enemy network, morphing as needed to fend off the enemy network’s counter-malware.
The malware swiftly caused chaos in the enemy ship’s systems. The ship’s rail guns fired four final rounds then suddenly the barrels sagged, fire control destroyed from within. Maneuvering thrusters went dead. The enemy pilot’s system warning lights all started blinking red. The malware was eating the heart of the enemy AI.
“We got incoming rounds on collision course!” called out Captain Tam and the AI at the same time. Evaluating the trajectories, the AI decided to take over. Colonel Zhao saw the AI’s warning in her visor.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” yelled the Colonel.
The ship’s active protection system detonated two charges along the reciprocal line of bearing to the enemy, launching a shotgun blast of tungsten ball bearings in an effort to intercept and shred the incoming rail gun rounds.
At the same time the AI started executing a new series of evasive burns faster than the crew could calculate. The AI rotated the ship so violently the crew blacked out. In these situations, the AI was allowed to override human safety limits.
///
They survived. The enemy ship did not. Barely clipping a corner of the ship, the force of the hypervelocity dart nonetheless ripped the back of enemy spaceship apart in the blink of an eye. It started spinning uncontrollably along its lateral axis. Ten minutes later the torpedo finished the job, steered in by its homing radar. It turned the enemy craft into space dust.
Once the AI stopped maneuvering the ship the crew started regaining consciousness. The AI returned the ship to full stealth mode to facilitate their escape. Their orbit took them away from Pact-dominated space at 28,000 kph. They were safe for the moment.
Colonel Zhao had the computer replay the moment the kill was made. “Computer, confirm who hit the target, the Jian or the sub?” The computer replayed the action.
With grim satisfaction 1st Major Monx commented deadpan in his thick Mongolian accent, “We got her, the Navy didn’t steal the kill.” Cheers rose over the intercom and fists pumped in the air. Colonel Zhao saw something else on the tape.
“Computer, replay impact in slow motion, and enhance zoon.” Major Monx looked over at her, as she unconsciously leaned forward to get a better look, even though the video was on her helmet visor.
The second time around they all saw it. The dart clipped the back of the ship, tearing it off. The enemy ship started to spin rapidly and uncontrollably. Roughly ten seconds later a hatch blew away from the front of the craft, and with almost superhuman effort, they watched an individual in a space suit pull themselves out of the craft and get flung away.
The crew was stunned into silence for a moment.
They had an escape hatch. It wasn’t a suicide mission after all. For some inexplicable reason that comforted her.
“Find him!” Zhao ordered. The AI began an automated search with the optical telescope. Soon they saw a tiny blob with a blinking, emergency strobe light.
“Is he alive?” Major Monx asked.
“Looks like it,” reported Sergeant Hirata.
“How can you tell?” asked Senior Rating Ng.
“He was able to stabilize his spin,” finished LT Kang.
The Colonel realized the implications of the ejection a few seconds before anyone else. “Maybe so, but he was flung out towards the planet and his orbit’s decaying.”
“Do you think he knows?” asked Captain Tam.
“Yeah, he knows,” said Sergeant Hirata. “Look where he is facing.” They saw the enemy pilot had rotated himself so he could see Africa as it disappeared over the horizon.
They kept watching until the end. It didn’t take long. A spark of light flared on the camera and it burned out in less than 30 seconds. Colonel Zhao briefly closed her eyes.
She sat back in her chair, trying to let the stress ease from her body. She still had to pilot the ship to an unpowered landing at the nearest designated recovery field, which the AI was indicating on the next orbit was going to be southern Japan. She took a few deep breaths to get settled. Finally, she started to speak, giving the orders to start the landing sequence checklists, all elation gone from her voice.
Just then, hidden in eastern Congo, a previously masked, mobile Pact ASAT laser fired a dozen pulses into space, the beams reaching up to a geosynchronous satellite high over the equator. Sporadically having been able to track the stealthy Jian with their own sensors during the battle, and benefiting from a partial position update their martyrs had provided just before their ship was destroyed, Pact counter-space command calculated a very brief, 40% probability of the Jian’s likely orbital track within a +/- 500km box. They decided to risk taking a shot. The geosynchronous satellite mounted a small reflective mirror as a secondary payload. The laser pulses hit the mirror, one-in-a-million bank shots taken from halfway around the globe, and milliseconds later one of the pulses bulls-eyed the Jian’s loaded torpedo tube while they were orbiting east of Hawaii, detonating the torpedo and destroying the ship instantly.
END
Colonel Zhao Meili, Han Forces, glanced at the video in the corner of her visor. She couldn’t see the Jian, the spacecraft she commanded, cocooned in the seven-story tall fairing. But the video showed the rocket they were mounted on as the mooring clamps were being retracted from the launch pad in the Gobi Desert. In the video’s background Colonel Zhao could see her escort, a second heavy booster, on the adjacent pad, its countdown 45 seconds behind hers.
It was recklessly dangerous to launch such heavy rockets so close together, but war always changed safety calculations. The minuscule launch window and the Pact ballistic missile defense threat demanded the risk.
Her co-pilot, 1st Major Monx, sat next to her calling out readouts. His 2+ meter frame dwarfed her, but the height difference only stood out in the formal pre-flight crew photo -- which was classified Top Secret like everything else.
Above them somewhere in low earth orbit (LEO) circled a Pact spaceship, destroying Han satellites with impunity. For 18 months, the Pact had routinely been destroying previously untouchable Han satellites with their new weapon. They didn’t know what the ship looked like, but the Pact bragged about the ship’s capabilities after every successful mission.
Despite their best efforts, the Han had been unable to destroy the spacecraft with ground or unmanned space-based assets, even after seemingly successful strikes. In desperation, the Jian, an advanced engineering marvel, was rushed into completion two years ahead of schedule, in order to destroy an enemy which had become a PR disaster in addition to a military one.
Behind the pilots sat four additional Han Force members in the crew capsule. The two on the left were the electronic warfare (EW) specialist, Captain Tam, and the cyber specialist, LT Kang. The two on the right were the Sysadmin, Master Sergeant Hirata, the oldest member of the crew, and the weapons specialist, Senior Rating Ng, the youngest.
Everyone on the crew had been hand-picked for their skills and combat experience in the war against the Pact. Of course, nobody had experience in space combat. The vast array of counter-satellite weapons available to both coalitions had turned LEO into a killing field. Only the most advanced, maneuverable satellites, or the even newer swarming microsats which could absorb large numbers of loses and maintain their mission functions, dared be deployed. Until the Pact had proved them wrong, it had been considered military suicide to send a manned mission into orbit.
“Jian Actual, be advised Gong Flight successful liftoff.”
“Copy control,” she replied. The first pair of escorts loaded with 16 unmanned micro killer satellites had launched from Okinawa. She flexed her hand lightly over the control stick and bit on her lip. She knew the next sub-orbital escorts would launch shortly. Soon enough, Flight reported a successful launch from Biak Island near the equator in Indonesia.
“Colonel, Dun Flight outbound.” They were next. The next communication came from the Han’s Space Operations Center (SOC).
“Jian Actual, this is Command. The Prime Minister has issued the final authorization order. Good hunting. Command out.”
“For the glory of Han! Prepare for liftoff,” Colonel Zhao broadcast. A chorus of cheers filled the crew feed. She considered saying something else to commemorate the historic, first manned Han Force combat mission into space. But she got a lump in her throat and all she could do was look at her copilot and nod. He reached out and they knocked forearms. She then saluted towards the camera filming the cockpit, sending a salute to mission control just like she used to give her crew chief when taking off in her fighter jet.
Colonel Zhao and her crew were slammed into their seats as the rocket’s three, massive boosters started. She watched the readouts on her helmet display as they shook violently in their seats, riding on top of six million pounds of thrust.
“All systems green,” reported Sergeant Hirata. “Burn is on target; we are on good trajectory Colonel.”
Major Monx spoke up in his heavy Mongolian accent, “We have cleared the blast zone,” meaning the area where an explosion from Nu Flight, the rocket on the pad next to them, could hurt them. Two minutes later the first stage cut out.
Colonel Zhao spoke. “Prepare for first stage separation and fairing release.”
Colonel Zhao saw a line appear in the fairing as it opened, revealing blackness in front of them. In only a few seconds the fairing was clear. The second stage booster ignited, surging them upward into space.
///
Someone on the outside looking in would not see a warship atop the second stage booster, but a massive communication satellite. The satellite was actually just a realistic looking shell, with the Jian hidden inside, part of a massive Han deception operation.
Tucked inside its satellite shell, the Jian was painted a deep black with ship lines which were all smooth edges. Landing gear and weapons were stored inside the hull. Internalizing everything had kept the craft small enough to fit inside the satellite cocoon, in addition to minimizing their radar cross section. The blackness of the ship’s tiles was so complete the ship’s color was dubbed “space black.” The tiles also limited thermal radiation. The result was full spectrum scans would be hard pressed to lock onto the warship.
///
The second stage booster finished its burn and the booster fell away from the spacecraft. They had made LEO.
“Initiate breakup,” ordered Major Monx. The satellite cocoon surrounding them broke apart and fell away.
“Computer, initiate separation burn sequence,” ordered Zhao. The AI executed the first of six, slow burns designed to secretly move them into their final, intermediate orbit.
The launches had been leaked to global news networks as a mission to replace a vital communication satellite. Fake conversations had been transmitted over Han communication channels. Han double agents whispered different stories in various world capitals. Blurry pictures of the fake satellite had been leaked onto the net.
As part of the deception effort, the Jian had been broadcasting a fake, pre-made telemetry signal. The telemetry now abruptly stopped, the final microseconds of fake data signaling a catastrophic failure of the satellite. The pieces of the “broken” satellite would now burn up as they fell back to earth. Pact intelligence assets were witnessing a staged production the Han hoped they would believe was a failed launch.
///
In addition to the Jian’s deception, Han Forces had launched the five, near-simultaneous unmanned escort craft of Gong, Dun, and Nu flights, all named for ancient weapons like the Jian, a double-edge sword which was king of all weapons in early Han history.
Gong (bow) Flight had carried the 16 killsats towards the equator for a diversionary attack on an orbiting Pact weather satellite cluster. Dun (shield) Flight, preceding the Jian on a lower orbital insertion track, carried penetration aides which deployed in suborbital trajectories as a shield between the Jian and Pact radars and missile sites in Chile. They escorted the Jian into orbit within a bubble of active jammers, zig-zagging drones, and multispectral decoys.
Nu (repeating crossbow) Flight, launched just after the Jian from Jiuquan, utilized a similar stealth design, but was smaller. The launch had no telemetry whatsoever and launched onto a radically different trajectory, designed to put its satellite in a highly elliptical orbit. It was an orbital trajectory not normally deployed from that launch facility, therefore not something the Pact was in a position to intercept.
Nu served as an orbital bombardment station (OBS) slaved to the Jian for fire support. Nu was inserted into the high elliptical orbit to provide maximum loiter time over the Jian’s planned ambush positions.
The Jian eventually reached its intermediate orbit, taking nine hours to complete. Every second Colonel Zhao fretted about being discovered. This was when they were most vulnerable. To be seen now when their engines were radiating the most heat, caught in the no-mans-land between the satellites and debris fields of LEO, and the less populated intermediate orbital zone, would have been a death sentence.
///
“Colonel, first communication window in 30 seconds. It will last only two minutes before we’re Amber again. Burst transmission is ready to go,” reported Captain Tam. Most of the time they were in orbit, they would be at threat level Amber or Yellow, meaning any transmissions would (Amber), or potentially could (Yellow), be picked up by the enemy. The safe (Green) zones were very limited.
Under optimal conditions they would communicate with line-of-sight, laser micro-bursts with Han ground stations. Like all things military, they had built in redundancies. They could bounce transmissions via satellite relay. They had backup ku-Band and S Band systems, and UHF, VHF, and HF radio for emergencies. As a last resort, they could transmit Morse code through a strobe in the sensor ball on the hull.
///
The ship completed the move into intermediate orbit. Colonel Zhao successfully had seized the high ground, the commanding position every fighter pilot desired. Time to go hunting, she thought. She ordered the sensor array deployed.
Over the next ten minutes six wires spooled out from the ship; front, back, and from the four points of the compass. Only a few millimeters thick, the wires were highly sensitive signal collectors, looking for signs of the enemy ship they knew was out there somewhere below them.
The array, or any part of it, could be used in a passive or active (radiating) mode. Each wire trailed out 200 kilometers, creating a massive 3D sensor array. Signal processors filtered the data being collected; separating known signals from unknown, terrestrial signals from space, and comparing locations of everything against known space objects.
The two EW/cyber crew members evaluated the readouts, adjusting signal filters a few times for particular hits. They talked quietly with the AI and each other. The mission would very much depend on them and they knew it, both were tense.
As they waited Zhao let the crew rotate to the tiny head, always a laborious process in space, and grab a bite to eat from the mess stores. They had 72-hour sustainment capabilities in their suits, but she wanted to save those for when they were sealed up for combat.
“Array deployed, nothing on the scope yet,” reported Captain Tam.
“Weapon systems green,” reported Senior Rating Ng. “Rail gun in weapons bay one is fully functional. Torpedoes functional.” Mounted in molded canisters on the hull, two stealthy torpedoes provided a long distance, long loiter time, large caliber weapon.
“Drones ready to deploy from weapons bay two.” The drones, known as Qiangs (spears), were deployable combat platforms used for multi-axis attacks. Each carried a large supply of propellant for maneuverability. The first three Qiangs each carried 10 small hypervelocity darts, which physically smashed an enemy satellite at high speed, and a directional shaped charge for a suicide attack.
The forth Qiang carried a small laser dazzler, along with six miniature decoys with jamming capability.
Each drone also mounted passive sensors which augmented the Jian’s sensors. They allowed for triangulation and remote target queuing without the Jian having to turn on its radar, meaning a target might not know they were being shot at until a weapon arrived.
Now the crew waited. Colonel Zhao reflected on how similar this was to submarine warfare. Stealth, delicate movements, and hours of listening. For their training, they had deployed on a Han submarine for a week to get a feel for what combat in these conditions was like. Boredom and terror in equal parts.
///
Colonel Zhao knew she had walked a hard path to get here. A ghost child, the unregistered, second child in her family, she lacked access to most official education, despite her obvious intellect. She was home schooled by her mother, who saw the promise in her daughter, and dreamed of becoming a Taikonaut. Her mother privately lamented the life she had fated for her daughter by being the illegal, second child in a male dominated society.
Showing an aggressiveness as strong as her intellect, and despite the institutional obstacles, she forced her way into university once she turned 18. She quickly was recognized for her understanding of physics, and fell in love with aeronautics. The Air Force after university seemed a natural fit for her skills and personality – smart, aggressive and bold. She had needed all of it.
Every single step to the present day had been a fight. Only by scoring better than all the male candidates in her training group was she admitted to pilot training. She became the best basic flight school pilot of her class, although the award was given to her male runner up. Afterwards they tried to push her into piloting transports but she made enough of a racket they relented and sent her to fighter training instead.
She was eventually assigned to a fighter regiment in Tibet flying obsolete 3rd generation aircraft, while pilots with inferior skills were assigned the 6th and 7th generation stealth fighters. It was only once the war began between the Han forces, a coalition of East and South Asian countries led by China, and the Pact, consisting of most of South America and sub-Saharan Africa, did things change.
Zhao and her regiment were redeployed from Tibet and sent into battle in their obsolete aircraft against front line Pact planes and drones coming out of Brazilian and South African factories. They were not expected to survive.
Zhao beat the odds and came out victorious, with eleven kills in four months. From a regiment of 40 pilots, only six of them had survived. The PR possibilities were obvious to the Han command, and suddenly she found herself in front of the media flying the latest 7th generation aircraft, a heroine for the new age, or so said the press officers.
More kills and fame followed. Put into the latest combat aircraft she grew into a superb combat pilot with a finely-honed killer instinct, eventually given command of her own regiment. But some things didn’t change. When the Air Force started looking for a pilot to command a secret space mission, she wasn’t even considered.
However, the government had created a PR beast it couldn’t control. She put immense pressure on her superiors, and fearing a loss of face if it became public they wouldn’t consider their top combat ace, who had also tested in the top .5% of all Taikonaut candidates, the Air Force ultimately selected her to command the Jian.
That was eight months in the past. Every 18 to 20 hour day since had been spent in training and combat simulations as the Jian was completed. She had achieved her childhood dream of going to space, now she just had to survive it.
///
Captain Tam spoke after twenty minutes. “Ma’am, we are not being tracked. Recommend we deploy the Qiangs.” Weapons bay two silently opened and the drones floated out, pushed away with propellant bursts as they crossed over Antarctica, heading north towards Africa on their next orbit.
After seven hours and five orbits, Zhao admitted the ambush location was a dud. She ordered a redeployment and they started over. Retracting an ambush was just as tedious as deployment. The sensor array was reeled in, and the drones recalled.
Over the next day-and-a-half they shifted position twice, moves designed to put them in alternate orbital tracts to protect different Han satellites. Each time they came up empty and had to reel in the array, recall the drones and start again, shifting two or three degrees in the orbital plane.
To keep everyone fresh, Colonel Zhao had the crew rotate through mandatory downtime and hypnotic-induced sleep. Each crew member was on a rotating 12-hour schedule when they were not at high readiness, with three hours off duty and nine hours of sleep in their chairs. Most took the time off to watch a vid or read an e-book while getting some food. LT Kang used her time to study for exams for her doctoral degree.
Other than the lavatory, there was no space to move around and they were confined to their chairs, strapped in at all times. They all had mandatory exercises each had to do in their seat for 30 minutes twice a day to maintain circulation.
///
Pre-flight intelligence had narrowed the enemy ship’s location to three general tracks. The first two hadn’t checked out. They knew the Pact spacecraft they were hunting had some sort of stealth capability and was well armed. Otherwise they had little to go on.
At their next communication window, they got a lead. Han intelligence had rechecked all space objects in range of their next position and realized one of the debris fields had slightly changed shape, and now registered more mass. The Jian was ordered to give this debris field a priority look.
Thirty-seven hours into their mission they made contact.
“I got a hit,” announced Captain Tam. “Burst transmission just intercepted from Pact ground station oriented towards coordinates,” he read off a location. “Navigational database matches the debris field in question. AI is reporting a possible contact with +/- 65% probability it’s our target.”
“Firm it up,” ordered Zhao. “Weapons, start a plot.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” Both Tam and Ng chorused.
After a few minutes, Captain Tam spoke again. “Ma’am, computer has upgraded it to a probable contact. Qiang two is picking up unrecognized power plant readings. Sensor array is registering side lobes of a short-range navigation radar. They’ll be passing within 52,000 km of our position in nine minutes. Putting it up on the screen.”
On the inside of all their helmets, a 3D map of the ships’ competing orbital trajectories appeared, along with those of the drones. They only had to turn their heads to orient themselves to where the enemy was located. The helmet made it look like they were looking through the skin of the spacecraft, and the AI provided augmented tracking cues, drawing lines in virtual space.
“Weapons here. We don’t have a good shot at them this pass, they are too far off axis. If they maintain their current orbital path we would be in the best firing position in about three orbits.” The Colonel and 1st Major chatted.
“What do you think?” she asked on their private net.
“They have to be coming up on their sustainment limit. They’re past 96 hours already from when their launch was detected. Not sure we should wait.” Zhao pondered that.
“Sergeant, let’s get a look with the optical telescope, see what we’re up against.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The sensor ball in the nose rotated and the zoom lens of the optical telescope tracked the point in space with their bogey. The screens shifted to the telescope’s video.
At first there was nothing. Then a small glint of light appeared, which the AI pinpointed by superimposing an orange tracking circle on it with speed and distance readouts. Once back-lit as it crossed North America, they got their first good look at the enemy. The target circle changed to a red triangle.
“It looks like it was made in somebody’s garage!” Blurted out the weapons officer.
How they hell did they get someone to fly that thing, thought Zhao.
Unlike the sleek lines of their spaceship, the enemy ship was kludge. The body appeared to be a repurposed cargo pod. Its only visible weapons, a pair of rail guns, were externally mounted. The enemy warship was less than a third the size of their ship and couldn’t possibly carry more than two crew members.
“You know what,” Colonel Zhao said slowly, thinking it through out loud. “Looking at that ship, I bet we have been killing them time and again. But that ship is so basic in design, they’re able to quickly make replacements and pretend it is the same ship… maybe even launch more than one at a time!” It was disconcerting to realize they had been the victim of a Pact disinformation campaign for almost two years all while trying to deceive the Pact themselves.
In comparison to the bare-bones ship in their viewer, the Jian was a high-tech wonder which had taken almost two years to fully design and build, and that was a rushed operation. “I’m not even sure it’s designed to land, they might be one way missions.”
The implications of this new intelligence sunk in with the crew. Colonel Zhao became more concerned with how she would eventually engage the enemy. Fighting an enemy who was much better at deception than previously assessed, and possibly didn’t care if they lived or died, was a highly dangerous proposition.
“My god they got balls! No wonder we couldn’t find them,” said LT Kang. The Pact had actually flown their craft into the middle of a debris field and wore it as a cloak. They likely took some structural damage just pushing their craft into the field. Colonel Zhao was impressed. That was some fancy, and reckless, flying.
“Sergeant, make sure we’re recording all of this and beam it back at the first window. Everyone doublecheck their systems to make sure they don’t have a wingman.”
Her pilot instincts looked for any tactical advantage. “We won’t wait for the optimal firing orbit. 1st Major, I want the drones deployed in a half moon across their orbital track. We’ll lead the attack with the drones while still over the horizon, and directly engage when we crest the Pole and have the sun at our back.” Any fighter pilot worth their wings tried to attack out of the sun. And Zhao was a great fighter pilot.
Senior Rating Ng spoke up, “If they evade low they’ll quickly run out of space and be forced to deorbit. I’ll have the Nu ready to dirty up their reentry.” Zhao liked this and concurred.
“In the meantime, onboard weapons remain masked,” Zhao continued. “I’m hoping they’ll try and evade high. Then we can hit them with our rail gun and torpedoes to finish them off.
“Captain, continue with passive monitoring on array four, and reel in the rest of the sensor net so we can better maneuver. When it is time to attack, I want to go active but only in the last sector.” The array sector farthest from the Jian would be radiating. If the enemy shot back on a reciprocal bearing to the radar, they would be 150 km off target.
///
The clock ticked down until their planned attack would commence. Suddenly Colonel Zhao was jolted by a panicked voice in her headset.
“Colonel!” stammered LT Kang. “We’re receiving a transmission while Amber.”
Colonel Zhao’s adrenaline spiked. It probably wouldn’t be enough to pinpoint their location, but now the Pact would know they were here. The transmission from SOC was brief.
Enemy drone confirmed in debris field.
“Curse their ancestors they burned our ambush to tell us something we already knew!” Colonel Zhao was beside herself. “If we pull this off I’m going to turn the Nu on SOC.” She steadied herself, attempting to push the anger aside.
“Rating Ng, drone status?”
“Just sent their final movement orders, executing burn now,” he replied.
“Captain Tam, any indication the Pact heard the transmission?”
Both EW officers were frantically scanning their scopes. “Nope, nothing ye… Wait! Shit! We just got swept. Space tracking radar. No lock on, just a sweep.”
Well Damn, they responded much faster than I hoped they would. She looked around at the hull and said a silent prayer that the engineers had done their work to make the ship as invisible as the program budget allowed.
“Report out all contacts Captain.” Captain Tam and LT Kang worked their scopes.
“Colonel, getting additional sweeps, but they seem to be focusing on the Qiangs. They’re not as stealthy so the Pact may be getting some hits.”
1st Major Monx grunted. “Timing couldn’t be worse, next two orbits take us directly over Pact territory.”
Colonel Zhao just nodded in reply. This was going to shit fast. She looked off with her helmet at the bogey in its red triangle. It hadn’t reacted in any way -- yet.
“Freeze the Qiangs!” she ordered. The drones were not in position yet and if she pushed the burn they would be seen by the Pact for sure. Freezing the drones meant they would have to wait until orbits converged again, this time over the Pact homeland. Zhao fumed at the missed opportunity.
Two hours went by as their orbits pulled them apart, then slowly brought them back together. She caught herself several times chewing on her lip. She had never done that while in aerial combat, there wasn’t time. The waiting wore on her.
As they started to cross the north Pacific, Captain Tam spoke up. “Colonel, I think they’ve finally found the Qiangs. I’m picking up target acquisition and fire control radars.”
Damn, still too far away to launch the darts.
“Do we have a Morse window?” The ship indicated they were in line-of-sight of a terrestrial station tracking their position. Quickly she composed a short update. She didn’t want to risk a radio transmission.
“Qiangs located by enemy. Engaging. Request all available support. Tallyho!” Seconds later the tracking station recorded the faint message blinking from space.
“Colonel, they’ve locked onto Qiang number two. I have heat signatures indicating ground missile launch!”
They waited. Nothing like the movies, the Colonel thought. Space combat is advanced calculus and trigonometry. She remembered the lessons from the simulator. Ninety-five percent of the battle is over before a shot is fired. Surprise and orbital positioning dictates the winner. She liked their chances. The enemy was probably dead already and just didn’t know it. She sent a delayed attack order to the drones.
“Can we use the Nu to suppress the fire control radar?” Zhao asked.
“Negative Colonel. About to dip below the horizon. We’ll lose coverage for 37 minutes until it comes up on the far side.”
The drones, enemy ship, and the closing ASAT missile, all being at a lower altitude, dipped below the horizon and out of sight. They wouldn’t see any of them again for almost 40 minutes. She tasted blood on her lip while she waited.
///
The enemy ship was on the other side of the planet when their attack started. Out of sight from both the Jian and their target, Qiang one fired hypervelocity darts into the incoming path of the spaceship, still over 100,000km away. Qiang two was not so lucky, the Pact ASAT missile destroying it before it could launch. Qiang released its darts. Qiang four launched the miniature decoys to provide jamming support.
Timed to coincide when the enemy ship came into range of the Jian’s rail gun, the computer had structured the dart attack so a 200km square kill box of darts would envelop the enemy ship’s calculated position. The AI calculated a maximum +/- 97% chance of a hit.
The clock ticked down, each second raising the kill probability. The Colonel fretted but didn’t say anything as they waited. She knew it would be mayhem when they crested the Pole.
The Jian zoomed over the northern Pole and into a battlefield of electronic chaos.
“CONTACT!” Called out Captain Tam. “I got multiple radars from the ground and the enemy ship. They see the darts and are maneuvering.” He continued to read the data. “Looks like they got Qiang three with a laser. Qiangs one and four still responding.” The loss of the two drones and one quiver of darts had significantly lowered the AI’s kill probability.
“Go active on the array! And have Qiang four commence attacking with the dazzler.” The weapon on Qiang four would not destroy the enemy craft, but it could fry or blind external systems if they were not shielded.
The Jian’s sensor array started radiating, revealing their presence but pinpointing the enemy ship’s exact location for their own weapons.
“Countermeasures, start jamming. They can see us, time to change that. Cyber, start your attack.”
“On it, Colonel,” replied LT Kang. She started launching cyber-attacks beamed towards the ship, hoping to find an open data port she could penetrate.
“Colonel, looks like they got cyber weapons of their own. I’m getting massive port scans and DDOS attempts.”
“Keep them out of our goddamn net!” Colonel Zhao bellowed, knowing a virus would kill them faster than a bullet.
“Roger that Ma’am,” LT Kang said as her hands blurred across a virtual keyboard.
“Colonel, the enemy ship is maneuvering. I don’t have a true bearing yet but it looks like it is moving up.”
Perfect! Thought the Colonel.
“On my mark, unmask weapons bay one. Ng, I want the remaining Qiang detonated to cover any possible reentry path with debris. Drive them to us.”
“Yes Colonel!” Ng punched in the calculations with the AI’s help. “Plotting set.” The Colonel flipped her visor to a split screen, one half showing the plot, the other the telescope view of the enemy craft.
On the video monitor Zhao could see the rail guns on the enemy warship swivel and start firing. Suddenly there was a beam of light on the periphery. A ground-based Pact laser was firing.
“Colonel, they are firing on a reciprocal bearing towards our sensor array with one gun, and the other is firing towards the darts… they are also being targeted by an orbital laser in LEO.” There was a pause. “Ma’am, I think they are trying to cut a path through the darts!”
Indeed, that was the case. The Colonel could see several darts had been hit by either laser fire or the rail gun. The enemy ship was clearly trying to escape.
“Countermeasures, I want jamming to focus on the enemy spaceship. We need to break their communication with the lasers.”
“Jamming pod is active. We are illuminating!!!” What Sergeant Hirata meant was the enemy could possibly calculate their true position because the jamming pod was hull mounted.
The battle became a cat and mouse game of electronic warfare and cyber-attack.
“Can the Nu engage yet?” asked Zhao.
“Yes ma’am, 30 seconds,” reported 1st Major Monx.
“Start putting metal on targets! Continuous fire on Pact ground targets, with priority order being lasers, radars, then ASAT batteries until it runs out of ammunition or runs out of targets.”
“Yes Ma’am, on it.” Weapons sent orders to the OBS via satellite relay. The OBS started firing depleted uranium-titanium slugs every five seconds. Encased in terminal heat shields, they burned through the atmosphere and started impacting ground targets.
“Colonel, I got another transmission from SOC,” reported Captain Tam. “The Navy was able to sneak in a submarine drone west of Nigeria loaded with six ASAT missiles!”
“About fucking time we got some support. But I’ll be damned if the Navy is going to splash our target! Tell them to engage the Pact ASAT missiles but not the ship. It’s ours.”
///
Colonel Zhao took a moment to scale back the display and evaluate her options. Other than the Pact ground lasers, none of the other Pact ordinance headed her way was an immediate threat. Space was still a pretty big place and there was time until any of it arrived. What she feared most were unidentified orbiting Pact weapon platforms, or a second ship. The kill probability for their target was growing, but not was high as she wanted. It was time to deploy her biggest weapon.
“Weapons, launch torpedo one, but not directly at the enemy ship. I want it to take a dog-leg left like this at slow speed,” she drew in the air and the AI created the path on the targeting plot. “Once it reaches this point,” she stabbed at the air, “I want it to turn in and go to full speed, using a gravity assist from the planet for a velocity boost. Set it for passive tracking as long as possible, and only go active radar when it is almost down their throats so they can’t maneuver.” Less than 15 seconds later the craft gently shook as the stealthy missile left its canister.
“Colonel! The enemy is firing directly at us!” In response, the Jian launched a radar decoy to draw laser fire away from the ship.
“Evasive maneuvers! Was it ground-based or orbital?” The ship started going through pre-programmed evasive maneuvers designed to confuse the enemy’s targeting. A beam of light went past the ship, only 80 kilometers away.
“Sonofabitch,” muttered Sergeant Hirata, watching the brief electrical surge in his systems spike on the screen. Any closer and we’re toast. “That one was orbital. They tried a high deflection shot from a satellite in LEO just about to drop below the horizon. I think the distortion of firing through the atmosphere to get to us from that far away threw off their targeting, just a little.”
“Nothing we can do about it now. Begin rail gun engagement,” ordered Zhao. She could feel their rail gun in weapons bay one start firing, sending a jar through the ship every few seconds.
“Countermeasures, deploy remaining decoys!” Two more decoys went shooting out in different directions, making electronic mayhem that screamed, “shoot me!”
“Weapons here. I have launches from the sub. Four look like they are targeting Pact missiles headed for us, two appear to be targeting the enemy craft.”
“The Navy couldn’t resist trying to steal our kill,” muttered 1st Major Monx. He looked at his screen in dismay and scowled. They waited.
///
The plot showed the enemy ship was probably doomed. Too many darts remained and with Qiang three’s debris field added, they appeared trapped. The calculated kill probability crept past 90%. Colonel Zhao saw the moment the enemy realized they were probably doomed.
With a flurry of burns, the enemy ship reoriented to point directly towards their position. It wasn’t to escape; the trap had been successfully sprung. Colonel Zhao realized they had repositioned to more easily lay guns on target until they were destroyed.
“BEACHHEAD! I got beachhead!” screamed LT Kang[AC1] . She had established a cyber “beachhead” within the enemy’s computer network. When the enemy ship had turned towards the Jian, it exposed their optical telescope. LT Kang’s morphing malware entered the optical lens as random bits of sensor data, and recombined within the processing core once past the firewall. It was now beaconing back to the Jian it had successfully penetrated the network and was holding open a data port.
“Burn ‘em LT!” ordered 1st Major Monx.
“Shoving it up their ass now Sir!” she replied. She beat off the enemy network’s counterattack and held open the breach in the firewall long enough to get the kill software inside. The breach was open less than 20 seconds but it was enough.
The kill software was the most vicious, military grade cyber malware available. It started destroying any programming it could find, a cyber equivalent of an ancient warrior, gleefully rampaging through the enemy network, morphing as needed to fend off the enemy network’s counter-malware.
The malware swiftly caused chaos in the enemy ship’s systems. The ship’s rail guns fired four final rounds then suddenly the barrels sagged, fire control destroyed from within. Maneuvering thrusters went dead. The enemy pilot’s system warning lights all started blinking red. The malware was eating the heart of the enemy AI.
“We got incoming rounds on collision course!” called out Captain Tam and the AI at the same time. Evaluating the trajectories, the AI decided to take over. Colonel Zhao saw the AI’s warning in her visor.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” yelled the Colonel.
The ship’s active protection system detonated two charges along the reciprocal line of bearing to the enemy, launching a shotgun blast of tungsten ball bearings in an effort to intercept and shred the incoming rail gun rounds.
At the same time the AI started executing a new series of evasive burns faster than the crew could calculate. The AI rotated the ship so violently the crew blacked out. In these situations, the AI was allowed to override human safety limits.
///
They survived. The enemy ship did not. Barely clipping a corner of the ship, the force of the hypervelocity dart nonetheless ripped the back of enemy spaceship apart in the blink of an eye. It started spinning uncontrollably along its lateral axis. Ten minutes later the torpedo finished the job, steered in by its homing radar. It turned the enemy craft into space dust.
Once the AI stopped maneuvering the ship the crew started regaining consciousness. The AI returned the ship to full stealth mode to facilitate their escape. Their orbit took them away from Pact-dominated space at 28,000 kph. They were safe for the moment.
Colonel Zhao had the computer replay the moment the kill was made. “Computer, confirm who hit the target, the Jian or the sub?” The computer replayed the action.
With grim satisfaction 1st Major Monx commented deadpan in his thick Mongolian accent, “We got her, the Navy didn’t steal the kill.” Cheers rose over the intercom and fists pumped in the air. Colonel Zhao saw something else on the tape.
“Computer, replay impact in slow motion, and enhance zoon.” Major Monx looked over at her, as she unconsciously leaned forward to get a better look, even though the video was on her helmet visor.
The second time around they all saw it. The dart clipped the back of the ship, tearing it off. The enemy ship started to spin rapidly and uncontrollably. Roughly ten seconds later a hatch blew away from the front of the craft, and with almost superhuman effort, they watched an individual in a space suit pull themselves out of the craft and get flung away.
The crew was stunned into silence for a moment.
They had an escape hatch. It wasn’t a suicide mission after all. For some inexplicable reason that comforted her.
“Find him!” Zhao ordered. The AI began an automated search with the optical telescope. Soon they saw a tiny blob with a blinking, emergency strobe light.
“Is he alive?” Major Monx asked.
“Looks like it,” reported Sergeant Hirata.
“How can you tell?” asked Senior Rating Ng.
“He was able to stabilize his spin,” finished LT Kang.
The Colonel realized the implications of the ejection a few seconds before anyone else. “Maybe so, but he was flung out towards the planet and his orbit’s decaying.”
“Do you think he knows?” asked Captain Tam.
“Yeah, he knows,” said Sergeant Hirata. “Look where he is facing.” They saw the enemy pilot had rotated himself so he could see Africa as it disappeared over the horizon.
They kept watching until the end. It didn’t take long. A spark of light flared on the camera and it burned out in less than 30 seconds. Colonel Zhao briefly closed her eyes.
She sat back in her chair, trying to let the stress ease from her body. She still had to pilot the ship to an unpowered landing at the nearest designated recovery field, which the AI was indicating on the next orbit was going to be southern Japan. She took a few deep breaths to get settled. Finally, she started to speak, giving the orders to start the landing sequence checklists, all elation gone from her voice.
Just then, hidden in eastern Congo, a previously masked, mobile Pact ASAT laser fired a dozen pulses into space, the beams reaching up to a geosynchronous satellite high over the equator. Sporadically having been able to track the stealthy Jian with their own sensors during the battle, and benefiting from a partial position update their martyrs had provided just before their ship was destroyed, Pact counter-space command calculated a very brief, 40% probability of the Jian’s likely orbital track within a +/- 500km box. They decided to risk taking a shot. The geosynchronous satellite mounted a small reflective mirror as a secondary payload. The laser pulses hit the mirror, one-in-a-million bank shots taken from halfway around the globe, and milliseconds later one of the pulses bulls-eyed the Jian’s loaded torpedo tube while they were orbiting east of Hawaii, detonating the torpedo and destroying the ship instantly.
END
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