Homeworld: Equestria - The Silent Hunters

by hiigaran

11: Asteroid Accelerators

At the head of a briefing room filled with interceptor pilots, an officer of the Ninth Solar Fleet’s carrier Belenus paced slowly back and forth in an attempt to mask her shaky hooves and twitching wings. Clearing her throat, she continued with her briefing. “Approximately four hours ago, a brief distress signal was detected from a large mining installation designated Argon-Six, before going silent. As our fleet approached in response, we received the following audio message from a nearby planet. Specialist”—she looked towards a zebra at a nearby terminal—“if you please.”

“Yes, Commander Virga,” the zebra replied, pressing a button on his screen. Faint static filled the room for a few seconds, followed by a panicked male’s voice.

“To anyone receiving, we are the representatives of the Argon Colonies. A massive Turanic Raider fleet is attacking our orbital mining facility. Our defences have been destroyed, and the Raiders have moved in around the facility. We thought—we thought they were just after the resources, but they’ve take—taken control of our accelerators. Our observatories have confirmed the worst; two have already aligned with our planet. We’re transmitting their technical schematics on a separate channe—”

The hastily recorded message ended abruptly, replaced with loud screeching noises. “That”—Virga continued when the recording ended—“was all we picked up, before Raiders jammed the signal. From this recording, we have determined Argon-Six possesses devices that engulf asteroids and hurl them towards the installation for rapid processing,” she continued, while the zebra brought up images of large, hollow cylinders with five thin protrusions at each end that gave them the appearance of a star.

“Eh, another bunch of Taiidani getting whooped by Raiders,” a griffon seated in the last row called out, leaning back on his seat with his arms folded. “So what’s new then?”

The officer’s eyes pierced the offending griffon’s own. “Your apathy has been noted, Lieutenant. And for future reference, the Argon colonies are an expeditionary group belonging to the Frerrn Aggregate. Regardless, ‘what’s new’, as you put it, is that this is no ordinary Raider attack. Now, unless there are any further interruptions …”

Virga nodded to the zebra, who continued displaying images. The first was of the installation itself; a six-sided structure with a domed top and flat bottom. Visible nearby were six accelerators, no more than a few hundred metres away. The second image was a tactical map of the surroundings; an area named the Demeter sector. As the map zoomed in, the facility and surrounding accelerators were highlighted, along with six additional accelerators further away in the asteroid belt orbiting the planet. Further still, was a blip indicating Ninth Fleet’s current position, hidden in the densest portion of the belt.

“After analysing the accelerators, we’ve come to a disturbing conclusion.” Pausing, the officer collected herself and reviewed a scribble of data on her notepad. “First, some facts. A ten klick diameter asteroid with a typical mineral composition is about one and a half trillion tonnes. Average planetary impact velocities are around twenty klicks per second, releasing the equivalent energy of a sixty million megaton detonation. At six hundred and fifty klicks per second, that energy can be released with asteroids a tenth in diameter. From the looks of things, the Raiders intend to strike the planet.”

The murmur of pilots filled the room. “What possible reason could the Raiders have for destroying a whole planet?” one of them called out.

“We’ve yet to establish a motive,” Virga answered, raising a hoof to silence the crowd. “Our best guess at present is that they are either experimenting with unconventional weapons the Elements of Harmony would be useless against, or they simply wish to do this as a show of power. No demands have been made by the Raiders.”

“Surely these accelerators aren’t designed to move asteroids at such speeds though, right?” another pilot asked. “There’s no way they’d be able to output that much power.”

“Not on their own, no. However, based on the data received, multiple overcharged accelerators working in series can provide the necessary force required for velocities estimated between two and three hundred klicks per second. Pilots, these accelerators are now considered super-weapons able to wipe out the population of an entire planet. We cannot allow the Raiders to possess them. Now, recon squads report the Raiders are towing the devices into place for alignment. Argon-Six managed to overload all engines before being overrun by boarding parties. With any luck, this significant delay to the Raiders’ plans may have given us the time we need to put a stop to this.”

Another tactical map replaced all previous images, highlighting several blips that indicated locations of known Raider presence. “At present, we have scouts monitoring the situation here, and here. No activity suggests we have been detected so far. Despite time being against us, we cannot go up against a force that size, so we’ve been instructed to hold here until the Sixth Solar Fleet exits hyperspace near this collection of asteroids. Once they finish engaging the frig line there, the role of Fleet Command will be transferred to their flagship, the supercarrier Solstice, and Ninth Fleet with be under its command. In the meantime, I expect all of you in formation before they arrive. Questions?”

A zebra at the front raised his hoof. “I know civilians tend to exaggerate, but how massive is massive? What do the scouts report?”

“Hard to tell at this point. The sheer number of asteroids makes it difficult to be certain. One Rancor-type command carrier and three Vindicator-type light cruisers patrol Argon-Six’s perimeter”—Virga traced a circle around the relevant location on the map—“each with Dagger escorts. Additional Daggers guard each accelerator, and a line of them patrol the wider area. Additionally, Thief-type ‘vettes have been sighted in large numbers. Our torpedo frigs will keep them at bay to avoid potential boarding parties, but keep an eye out for any generating illusory fields.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know, pilot. I know. Their dual turrets aren’t typically an issue at close range, but their thick armour may keep you busy long enough for Brigand-type ‘vettes to lock on with missiles. This may force you into the asteroids, where illusory Thieves may lie in wait. Expect Rock Rats to be lurking around asteroids, too. What those interceptors lack in agility is made up for in armour and firepower. Teleport when you can, but avoid navigating the asteroid fields if possible. Any other questions? Alright, dismissed.”

---

A golden-eyed pegasus conversed with her co-pilot aboard Solstice, as the pair climbed into their interceptor. “ … Oh, definitely. I love the grand entrance we’re gonna make though. Assuming Belenus’ coordinates are accurate, BOOM! Right in the middle of those frigs, hitting their weapons hard and fast! That ought to get the rest of the Raiders’ attention. Hey, you mind closing the canopy?”

“Sure thing, Lightning,” a chocolate-brown unicorn replied from the back seat, flipping the appropriate toggle switch. A pair of hydraulic actuators proceeded to pull the cockpit canopy down, the fluid in the nearby hydraulic lines audibly rushing through until the assembly fully lowered and locked into place with several clicks. Ensuring his readouts confirmed a good lock and seal, the stallion announced to the pegasus seated ahead and slightly below him, “Canopy secured. So what’s the deal with these accelerator things?”

“Eh”—Lightning Dust shrugged—“sounded like corporate manure to me. The miners didn’t want to pay some expensive license fee to use hyperspace in this territory, so they used some old tech to work around it. These accelerators were apparently early attempts at hyperspace gates, able to accelerate a fifteen tonne ‘vette halfway to light speed in ten femtoseconds, without turning the occupants into liquid. Of course, asteroids would still be much slower, but for the miners, it seems to work just fine.”

“Somehow I doubt they’d agree at this particular moment.”

“Probably not. Okay Streak, since we got a little time, I’m going to do something completely unheard of, and follow the full checklist. Hatches and harnesses?” Lightning Dust began, simultaneously inspecting her harness, tightening two of the straps on her five-point restraint until the rotary buckle was centred low and tight.

“Following procedure? Listen, changeling, I’m on to you!” Streak announced, tugging on his restraints for good measure, before adding, “Secured.”

“Ha! No changeling could replicate me! Circuit breakers?”

The stallion ran a hoof over the circuit breaker panel. “In and un-tripped. And yeah, fair point. Just getting your ego down perfectly would be a challenge.”

“You call it ego, I call it honesty. Best damn fighter pilot, and you know it! Oxygen?”

“Tanks are full, and so is your ego.”

“Gonna have to come up with something more creative, Streak. Instruments?”

“Nav one reference set to Solstice, nav two set to Balcora, radio frequencies set and standby.”

“Lights?”

“Beacons on”—Streak confirmed a soft red flash could be seen as it reflected off the hangar walls, then checked the steady red port and green starboard lights—“nav lights on.”

“Right, let’s get serious. Bringing engines online. Number one …”

Flipping the red guarded switch of the first engine from OFF to SBY, Lightning monitored her engine instruments as the interceptor performed its diagnostics. As soon as the engine readings stabilised, she repeated the process for the remaining three.

“Okay, engines look good. Power bank?”

“Online, charged at capacity.”

Lightning stroked her fiery mane back and slid her helmet on. “Pressurisation?” she continued, while ensuring her BPS made a good seal with the helmet.

“Cabin depressurising to zero decimal one standard atmosphere. System shows our BPSes holding at one atmosphere.”

“Controls?”

“Manoeuvring ports operative. Full, free movement of thrust-vectoring nozzles.”

“HUD status?”

“Target assist software online, combat scanners online, primary flight display online.”

“Weapon systems?”

“Autogun spin-up successful, targeting calibrations complete.”

“Cautions, nil. Warnings, nil. Just in time to drop out of hyperspace.” Holding down a button on her radio stack, Lightning spoke into her headset’s microphone, “Solstice hangar, interceptor Mike Romeo Charlie ready for combat departure, bay six-two, request radio check.”

“Good morning Mike Romeo Charlie, readability four over five,” the voice of a controller cracked slightly through Lightning’s earpiece, while the shriek of ion cannons began reverberating throughout the vessel. “Line up, position niner behind the scout. Call sign four-two.”

“Readability five, niner behind scout, Lightning four-two,” Lightning Dust read back to the controller. The access tunnel sealed around the interceptor’s canopy detached, retracting up and away from the vessel. Decoupling her fighter from the bay, Lightning lined up behind the scout and waited for her turn to launch. “Call sign is a two once again,” she mumbled. “Every single time. I hate twos.”

“Is this about that Wonderbolts wingpony thing again? Because if it is … Dude, you need to let that go already. It’s been how many years now? Besides, I’m sure this is much better than some aerial circus.”

“The whole thing was a load of manure, Streak. It’s the principle! And the annoying remarks about ‘Lightning flying a Lightning’ are really starting to get old,” she seethed. “Oh, and to top things off, got rejected yet again for the Shiry programme, in favour of some higher-up’s cousin, the bucking twat.”

“Okay, don’t rip my head off, jeez.”

“Lightning four-two, cleared for combat departure,” the controller’s voice returned once more. “Be advised, anti-capital hostiles three o’clock low.”

“Hostiles three low, cleared for departure, four-two,” Lightning grumbled. Shoving her throttle fully forward, the irate pegasus sent her interceptor shooting out of the supercarrier faster than permitted for launches. Clearing the launch path, she banked left and joined the delta formation of interceptors marked on her CNS, opening her comms once more. “Lightning four-one, four-two joining formation on your port.”

“Howdy four-two, got a visual on you. Set squad comms to one-six-six and stand by.”

Lightning Dust did so, following the rest of the interceptors until they were well clear of the initial battle. Surveying the scene nearby, several Daggers were already hacked to pieces and drifting lazily, still glowing white-hot where the fleet’s heavy weapons cut through. Only one of the eight frigates managed to fire for a moment, though to no effect, as the shielding crew aboard Solstice had conjured up their protective barriers in time.

“Immediate area secured. Stand by for mission update,” the Fleet Intelligence stallion aboard Solstice announced, soon after the final frigate was destroyed. “Multiple capital ships and their escorts guard each accelerator. In addition, the accelerators are directly controlled from the Argon-Six installation. Marines will be required to storm the complex and disable the accelerators. Ninth Fleet will slip in from behind, using dust clouds and asteroids as cover to capture Argon-Six, while we commence a head-on assault to distract hostiles or eliminate the accelerators. Be advised, estimated time until accelerator alignment: Four-seven minutes.”

“Hey. Hey Streak,” Lightning Dust called behind her, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “Should I say it?”

Streak took a few seconds to understand what the pegasus was talking about. He groaned. “No Lightning, please don’t.”

“I’m gonna say it.”

“Don’t you da—”

“Gonna say it!”

“Stop—”

“This sounds like a simple mission to me!” Lightning blurted out in the most obnoxious tone she could make.

Streak let out a long sigh. “Why must you always tempt fate like this?”

“’Cause I don’t believe in fate. Plus I enjoy watching you squirm.”

Fleet Intelligence’s voice cracked through comms again, “Sensors detect incoming strike-craft emerging from asteroid fields. Stand by for updates …” he paused. “Counting six-nine fighters closing in on attack vectors.”

“Nice,” one pilot replied.

“Nice,” another joined in.

“Nice,” a third added

“Nice.”

“Next pilot that says nice will be on a month-long MRE diet! Rock Rats sighted. Lightning one-one reports visual contact with hostiles. Awaiting orders.”

“Lightning squads one through eight, cleared to engage hostiles, standard spread,” Solstice replied.

“Alright Streak, weapon systems armed. Textbook engagement. Wait ‘till you see their muzzle flashes.” Lightning tightened her grip on the control stick, while Streak’s horn lit up in anticipation as the pair closed the distance. “Firing range in four, three, two, one … go!” she signalled, as Streak teleported the interceptor with a flash.

*BRRRRR*“RRRRR—”

“Streak, shut up!” Lightning yelled, as she unleashed a succession of rapid-fire bursts from directly behind the unsuspecting target, ripping through its engines and causing it to yaw violently to port as she tore deeper through the fighter. “Good hit. No kill.”

“Fighter on our tail!”

“I see it. Defending. Breaking starboard.” Rolling ninety degrees, Lightning pulled the stick back hard, sending her ship into a tight turn. Overturning, the nimbler interceptor drifted radially and returned fire, leaving a trail of holes against the side of the fighter. Seeing atmosphere and debris billowing out, Lightning sped off elsewhere, leaving the disabled Raider to tumble into an asteroid.

Solstice came through comms once more, “Sensors picking up capital ships emerging from the asteroid field. Rancor with seven Daggers, one-six Brigands, and two-two Thieves. Torpedo destroyers Swarm and Hive, engage ’vettes at long range, priority to Thieves. Battlecruisers Equinox and Nighthawk, draw capital ships further away from asteroids.”

While the strike-craft from both sides engaged each other, along with half of Sixth Fleet’s frigates providing fire support from afar, the larger capital ships broke away with their frigate escorts to deal with the newcomers. As the two capital ship groups converged, the ships of Sixth Fleet brought up their individual shields and moved in to close range around the Raider vessels, keeping clear of the carrier’s forward-mounted dual ion cannons.

“Lightning four-four hit. Got three on my tail,” Lightning heard over comms. Her CNS indicated four-two ahead and below, heading across her field of vision. Sliding out in another tight turn, Lightning headed towards her squad-mate, landing multiple direct hits on the cockpit of a pursuing fighter and cutting in front of the remainder to draw fire. Splitting away, the two interceptors took opposing circular paths, each chased by a fighter, until the interceptors found themselves head-to-head on collision courses. At the right moment, both teleported away, causing the Raiders to plough into each other.

The radio chatter began to intensify on the main channel. “Solstice, be advised, Destroyer Swarm observing what appears to be a new type of ion cannon turret mounted dorsally aboard the Rancor. The beam is phased and has penetrated our shields multiple times.”

“Understood, Swarm. What is your situation?”

“No reports of damage so far. We assume our shields mitigate the—wait, what the—we can’t manoeuvre the ship. Our controls are dead!”

“What’s going on over there?” Streak looked out towards the direction of the capital ships. The Raider carrier appeared to be firing an unfocused purple beam at Swarm from a small turret mounted on the dorsal hull.

“No idea,” Lightning Dust replied, returning to formation with her squad-mates. “But I’m guessing that wasn’t an ion cannon. EMP weapon?”

“Solstice, Swarm reporting multiple system failures. Engines are down. Nav systems—hey wha—what is—oh nonoNO!”

Without warning, all twenty-six torpedo tubes burst open, and torpedoes began pouring out. The first few exploded upon impact with Swarm’s shield, until it broke apart and allowed the rest to streak towards nearby targets, which, according to Swarm’s weapons station, were Equestrian.

“Swarm, what the hay are you playing at? Solstice, flak frigate Cumulus reporting both turrets down. Multiple sections vented.”

“We didn’t do anything! The ship is—it’s like it’s acting on its own. Everypony get clear! I think the carrier did this.”

“Brigand on our tail, Lightning!”

“All capital ships within range of the unknown weapon, reposition underneath the carrier. Other nearby vessels to retreat into the asteroid belt,” Solstice ordered. “All torpedo frigs, target the turret at maximum range.”

“Missile lock! Missile lock!” Streak shouted, as Lightning narrowly evaded the weapons of a nearby missile corvette.

“Then bucking flash us out of here!”

“My horn is killing me as it i—”

“Those missiles will do that for us if you don’t get me behind that ’vette!”

“There!” Streak winced with another teleport, a sharp pain shooting through his skull.

“Finally.” Strafing the missile corvette’s engine block, Lightning flew overhead and pierced the cabin from above. “Was that so hard?”

“Fleet, Swarm reporting another salvo loaded. Damn ship is reloading the tubes on its own. Can we get some interceptors to shoot down our torpedoes?”

“Request approved, Swarm. Lightning squads four and five, break off attacks and intercept torpedoes from Swarm.”

“Oh this is going to be fun!” Lightning Dust rubbed her hooves together, a manic look in her eyes. Pointing her interceptor straight at Swarm, she zoomed past formations of Thieves, effortlessly dodging their turrets. Levelling off, she skimmed the side of the rogue destroyer’s hull, and chased a trio of torpedoes headed for one of the battlecruisers. “I call that work of art the Ballistic Ballet!”

“You’re a madmare, you know that?” Streak yelled, as blurs of glowing-hot metal narrowly missed them and ricocheted off Swarm’s hull.

Lightning smirked, as all three torpedoes took a small spray of rounds and ruptured. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Getting more missile locks!”

“Oh come on!”

“Watch the beam! Lightning! Pull up!”