Ordinarily, sound didn't transmit at all through space. So the sound of Half-Measure's primary guns opening fire should be in complete silence. But apparently, Lancer, as a setting, thought that having all the dazzle without the sound effects was quite droll. So it came up with a reason to include them.
'I' had learned in my naval academy crash courses that apparently, folks just found it super weird and disconcerting to witnessing such happenings without any form of feedback. Situational awareness or something. It had engineers scratching their head, then shrugging to make adjustments. Now as a little quality of life feature, helmets or other sort of audio equipment like ship intercoms would actually have a 'mimic' background layer that would play appropriate sound clips for what was going on in the vacuum.
Far be it for me to claim I understood the actual specifics, nor did most people. Probably the only people who did were the sound technicians, but I found myself grateful to them all the same despite the lack of understanding. Because it definitely made sure that my uninformed brain could go 'ah, so that is what a space cannon sounds like.'
Loud.
Half-Measure had an all ballistic-loadout, something that I hadn't exactly picked myself but was just what the frigate was built with. Maybe Feng had a word in outfitting it so but given he was just a captain, probably unlikely. So my guess was just that whichever admiral commissioned the vessel in the first place liked the idea.
Guess I'll blame them if we lose, but for the moment, we seemed to be winning. Not that one could tell with how the escorts broke off to engage their own, the standard procedure to make sure neither side was swarmed by the other without some destroyer leader or corvette breaking through. In this setting, it was what allowed the capital ships to simply duel with one another without interference.
"Turret Alpha requesting more ammunition."
"Minor barrel warp in Turret Gamma, deploying subaltern team for replacement."
"Impact confirmed!" another shouted, quite eagerly from where they watched glued to their monitor. "Rounds connected, rounds connected!"
There was a brief moment of cheer that we permitted, then Feng cut through sharply. "Back to your stations. Sensors, report observed damages."
"Sir. I'm seeing upper decks ripped open and exposed by our kinetics," they snappily reported. "Might even be into their hanger. John's Widow, marking medium damage."
"Very good. I think our opening strike's done good work. Time to force them into a chase, or be picked off by us. Helm, set a course to put some distance. Engineering, fire up those retrogrades!"
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Lieutenant Sieg gritted his teeth as officers worked frantically at glitching systems, minding the sparks that the electronics occasionally spat out. That hit to their systems had damaged a power line or transformer, whatever engineering was babbling hurriedly about. But the more serious damage was to their hanger bay.
It was bad. Their citadel was exposed. If they took another hit there, it actually could light up the supply of ammunition and fuel. Subaltern teams were hurriedly trying to clear the area, but it was slow going and they hadn't been expected to be put in danger so soon. In fact, more than a few officers on the bridge still weren't in protective hardsuits, Sieg included.
As much as it would be a smart idea to do so, his focus was wholly fixated on their opponent on the scopes. One that soon left it even, putting distance with its sudden maneuver burn. It was a tactic that made him scowl in realization of what they were doing.
They knew his ship only had missiles, ones that would surely deal considerable damage if they were to hit- but by putting distance between the two vessels, that delayed then how long before those projectiles would strike! His fist slammed against his chair and he yelled at his subordinates. "Full burn ahead! Engineering, overclock the reactors!"
"S-sir, with our level of damage, the power plants are already unstable-!"
"It's our only option! Remember, we just have to buy time for Lieutenant Aoba to secure her prey!" he thundered, pointing ahead. "All ahead full! Gunnery, launch missiles as soon as they're ready!"
"They're ready now, sir!"
"Fire!"
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"Alert: Missile launch detected."
"Thank you, Veronica," I murmured as John's Widow chased after us, making good time and closing the distance. Looks like they realized our tactic and were moving to counter it by narrowing the range, something that ordinarily would have been foolish given the Bakunawa's preference for long-range combat. But now with with supporting wing nowhere to aid them and nothing else to screen them like another capital ship, the miniature carrier was lashing out best it can.
"Enemy ship in collapsing range!" called out the gunnery and Feng snorted.
"Is that all? Helm, evasive maneuvers, pull us back one. Gunnery, swap to interdiction fire."
"Yes sir. Prioritizing anti-projectiles duties."
"Engineering, cycle the reactors. I want another hard burn coming up as soon as we can risk it."
"Might be difficult, but we'll do our best."
"That's all I ask. In the meantime, look alive! Missiles incoming!"
Unlike when I had gotten shot at on the ground, this time I knew what was coming and could brace myself appropriately. The screen at my seat helpfully provided a demonstration of the missiles attacking Half-Measure, not that I needed such a visual aid when I could see it with my own eyes too. They were streaks of orange that painted against the starry backdrop, like wild lines that then blossomed into entire splotches of paint as our turrets tracked and hit.
But there were just too many for them to all shoot down.
The ship rumbled as a few missiles struck glancing blows and the captain was immediately on it. "Damage control, report."
"Sir! Minor damage to lower decks, compartments seven through nine showing hull breaches! Deploying damage control teams! Half-Measure, light damage!"
"A good exchange," I commented aloud to Feng and the man nodded.
"It is. Especially when now, they are too close. Engineering?"
"Sorry sir, we're still cycling!"
"Hmph. Very well, we'll settle for remaining at this scope range then. Main batteries, fire!"
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There was screaming on the bridge of John's Widow when the rounds impacted and the front of their ship began to burn. Klaxons wailed and everything flashed red inside, a sure sign that the wise sailor is one who begins to recall evacuation procedures. But even then, there were those still committed to the fight, despite dire news.
"Fire! Fire in our missile batteries!" screamed gunnery, turning with wild eyes at their commanding officer. "Crews are reporting that we can't load more missiles than what we've already put in!"
"How many is that!"
"Barely half, sir! They're trying to repair, but damage control is stretched thin-!"
"Sir! Incoming transmission from Half-Measure!" babbled comms and before Sieg could even choose, they'd already frantically put it up on the main screen. It was the traitor.
"Lieutenant Sieg, you have fought admirably and done what is expected of you. But the lives of your crew needn't be wasted. Surrender."
"Fuck you!" he exploded, leaping out of his command seat. At the man's unimpressed eyebrow raise, Sieg angrily stalked over to the shivering comms officer and forcibly disconnected the call. "What the hell was that for?! I gave you no such order to engage diplomacy!"
"We...we should strike colors…"
A backhand strike sent the mewling individual away and the inflamed lieutenant snapped at them. "When Aoba is still out there, fighting for the sake of her life?! You are dismissed from your station. The same goes for all of you!" he roared at the rest of the uncertain bridge crew. "Get to the escape pods if you wish. But I will never abandon my friend, so long as she fights-!"
Loud beeping from the now-unmanned communications station interrupted his rant, one that pulsed with an apparent message from La Azul. He stared at it for a few moments, then hesitantly accepted the connection to numbly listen in to the news. As he did so, his subordinates took the apparent offer to begin surreptitiously escaping the bridge, wincing at the snippets of bad news they overhead on their way out.
The fight within the orbital facility had not gone their way, not by a long shot.
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When Sieg's wing arrived to reinforce their position, Lieutenant Aoba roared in triumph within her mech. Now they had the metal to drown the defiant flesh in. "We have the numbers now!" she blasted, raising the morale of her forces in the moment. "Draw your blades and ignite them! We'll charge them!"
A wordless roar erupted from her forces as they readied themselves. Everests holstered their guns and took out what looked like ordinary cylinders at first, until they toggled them on to create charge blades made of pure light. Some even drew out sidearms like beam pistols to accompany their impending assault while, below them, marines excitedly racked shotguns.
Their commander was already moving ahead of them first though, charging at the closest army Everest there was. The Chomolungma still clutched the customized rifle in its own two hands but drew it back like a spear now, for good reason as, beneath the superheated barrel, an attached canister flared to produce an elongated charge blade. A bayonet which was used to slash into the defending mech, cutting down at the shoulder.
"With me!" urged Aoba, turning to raise her extended rifle to the rallying attack. "Come on-!"
Beams of light suddenly traced a shape around her mech and then slammed into the rising charge, immediately stopping in its tracks and at the worst possible moment. The building momentum abruptly collapsed and the push forwards stumbled, man and mech alike cut down by the...lasers?
Yes, lasers that fired brief concentrations of energized light to cut through flesh and metal. Wait, but those lasers were-!
New shapes had emerged among the defenders, coming out from the direction of the carrier. Soldiers in very similar gear to the army, but recolored. No, those were the original colors that the armor had rolled off the factories in, for those who used them were the manufacturers themselves. It was only confirmed by the mechs which debuted now, their tanky and bulky form unmistakable.
Shermans, a competitor to the Everest mech. Now working side by side with them.
A product of Harrison Armory.
So the locals had been working with the megacorp, all this while! The lieutenant was right, they were sheltering their prey! But she didn't have time to rejoice in being proven correct, not when they were killing her soldiers with their laser rifles and shoulder-mounted cannons. Her troops fired back in return and yet those Shermans took the blows solidly on, almost totally unbothered by the hits.
They just had to dance around those bulky frames- no, they couldn't! This enclosed space, the artificial gravity, they couldn't escape! Horror dawned upon Aoba as she realized, finally, that this entire space station was a trap. One that they had warned about, but she still fell for- and even openly triggered by opening fire!
No, wait, calm down. She almost unconsciously boosted her mech to make a rapid withdrawal, landing back in friendly lines. Or what could be generously called it so after the shocked collapse. "Get up! Reform!" she tried to rally, slowly reforming the front. "Support wing, get in here! Plug the holes!"
The mechs from John's Widowhesitated, torn for whatever reason. It was then that Aoba received a most shocking update from her bridge, a message from her friend transmitted to La Azul which was passed to her through the long-range jamming. A local capital ship had showed itself?!
Commander Moores' ship! It was moving to engage John's Widow at that!
No wonder why the wing looked torn! But Sieg had probably told that he'd buy as much time as possible, for her to take over the orbital dockyard and hold the place hostage. If she could capture the carrier at least, it was a valuable bargaining chip! Aoba wanted to scream at the idiot, tell him to just turn to escape- but the long-range jamming was still in play.
And knowing her friend, he'd never dare to leave her behind. Fucking moron.
Okay, change of plans. Forget trying to win, evacuation was in order. Secure the escape route back to her ship. Yell at her friend and get him to disengage. Then report back to the Vice Admiral and pray he saw this information as valuable enough to not press them for retreating.
It should be doable. Especially because the defenders seemed keen to remain in place- hang on.
There...there should be more of Harrison Armory. There was maybe only half of the expected force here.
Where were the others-?
A new incoming transmission from Aoba's own ship, La Azul. The bridge comms officer was panicked. "Ma'am! We're being boarded!"
Warmth flooded out of all her veins. Her forces, they...they didn't sweep the station. They'd been so focused on trying to get to First to Draw that they hadn't done the proper checks to clear it section by section. They'd rushed to the carrier.
And now they paid for it now with what sounded like the other half of the Harrison Armory force attempting a boarding action.
Ordinarily, it still was something they could repel. Ordinarily, it should be still possible to fend them off with just those left on the ship.
Ordinarily, her comms officer wasn't screaming that there was what appeared to be a Lancer among them.