Real-Time Starcommander 2: Ground Assault: A Strategy Gamelit Novel, page 1
Real-Time Starcommander 2:Ground Assault
A Strategy Gamelit Novel
Tracy Gregory
P.W Hillard Fiction
Copyright © 2021 P.W Hillard Fiction
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Strike fighters pirouetted through space as they tried to avoid the storm of plasma bolts being sprayed towards them. One died, a blast of energy puncturing its main hull and causing its engine to detonate in a brilliant white flash. The others pressed onwards, energy flashing from their cannons as they returned fire. The enemy overseers had been exposed, and whilst pushing the fighters towards them had been a risk, it was one Evan was willing to take.
He allowed himself a smile as one of the overseers split in two, its internal components spilling across space around it. A second followed soon after, gouts of short-lived flame escaping through holes blasted in its hull. The overseers increased the number of ships his opponent could command at once. Knocking them out would force them to stop building combat forces, for a short while at least. They had been evenly matched up to this point, but it would allow Evan to get a small lead on them. These were the things that counted, that made a difference. Having just the slightly bigger fleet meant he could win more fights, grab more opportunities. Everything could snowball his way if Evan kept his wits about him.
He moved his view, the holograms projected on the walls around him shifting with simply a thought. His hands were deep into the holotank, a vat of shimmering silver liquid. Small representations of his forces had risen from the surface, the nanomachines that comprised the shining gloop solidifying into their forms. On the left a plinth was sinking into the pool, a timer showing Evan how long until his next ship would slide out from within the constructor. The beam frigate being built was expensive, but it packed an incredible punch. There was no point replacing the lost fighters, not anymore. The fight had long since evolved past that.
The image settled on what Evan was looking for, the nanomachines within the tank connecting with those in his body, his thoughts transmitting directly to the control system. His frigates were engaging the enemy's, the two groups of ships spitting storms of plasma at each other. Brawling like this wasn't the primary function of this model of frigate, known as a picket. It's scatterplasma turrets were designed to engage strike craft like fighters or bombers, the shots high volume but low damage. They were damaging each other, Evan could tell from the life bars above both groups, but it was slow going. The beam frigate would change the outcome of this fight. Behind the frigate line, waiting patiently, was a squadron of ten bombers. Evan just needed to make a hole.
He quickly moved the view again, checking on his production line. He had two mining ships collecting resources from a nearby asteroid. Blue beams were sweeping out from both ships, and Evan knew that the beams were tractor beams that sent millions of invisible nanomachines onto the surface of the rock to collect minerals with one sweep, before drawing them back with another. The miners didn’t care what minerals they collected specifically, the systems within them breaking everything down into the right elements. Once they were full the miners would return to their mothership, a large boxy vessel called a constructor. The ship acted as a factory, assembling the vessels Evan commanded from gathered minerals. Like most technology within the Kirran Hegemony, it used nanomachines extensively, the infinitesimally small robots building ships layer by layer like a 3-D printer.
The beam frigate’s construction complete, it left the constructor, the ship squeezing through the glowing blue opening at its parent’s front. The frigate was a boxy thing, a grey rectangle with a single massive cannon at its prow. The frigate carried just that one weapon, a powerful spinally mounted energy beam. Evan ordered the ship forward to the front lines. He had split his forces into battlegroups, linking their control together so it was easier on him mentally. He added the beam frigate to the picket group, the models floating on the holotank shifting together into a clump. On the other side of the pool was a cluster of bombers, Evan’s second pre-set group. Even with a reaction time as fast as his thoughts, collecting units together allowed Evan to respond quicker.
It would be all over soon. The beam frigate was nearing the frontline, Evan’s view following it as it flew through space.
“Our constructor is under attack,” said the command assistant, an AI nestled within Evan’s mind.
He shifted his view to his constructor. The AI was right, a squadron of bombers had unleased a salvo of shots at the vessel, the beams from their particle lances taking off a third of the valuable ship's health. The bombers had to have taken the long way around the edge of the battlefield, skirting Evan's sensor range. It was clever, but his adversary had made a simple mistake. There were letting the bombers target according to their AI, they had to be, otherwise, they would have destroyed the miners with the first salvo. Evan had placed his overseers around his constructor to help defend it, the control ships only had a single scatterplasma turret each, but with eight of them in position, it was the equivalent of a picket's guns. There were only five bombers, probably the first five built in the battle launched off as soon as possible. If his opponent had taken direct command of them, they could have crippled Evan’s income, for a short while at least. That might have evened the odds after the destruction of the overseers.
Confident his overseer net could protect the constructor before it was destroyed, Evan switched back to the unfolding battle between the frigates. He mentally selected his beam frigate, opening the targeting information, a pale blue cone appearing from the front. The frigate had a tight firing arc, but a long-range, and the edge of the cone was about to touch the first enemy frigate.
A brilliant beam of pink energy screamed out from the front of the frigate, crossing space in moments. It struck the nearest enemy picket and kept going, disintegrating a massive chunk of the vessel. Its health bar dropped immediately to empty. Evan knew that the enemy health bars were only a best guess, but it was obvious the ship was dead. It would take a few moments for the beam to recharge, but things were already going his way. His frigates outnumbered the enemy fleet now. Even without the help of the deadly beam, we would win. Mathematics was on his side.
A second shot lanced out, destroying another frigate. Evan’s choice of targets had been deliberate, shrinking the enemy’s right flank. Confident he had shrunk the area the pickets could cover effectively; he ordered his bomber group forward. Unlike his opponent he took direct control, watching as the bombers shrieked past the frigates. A few plasma bolts were launched towards the bombers, but they went wide, the strike craft moving quickly out of range of the pickets. Evan ordered them to split up, sending half towards each enemy miner. Like him, they were defending with their overseers, though they had less of them thanks to Evan's fighters. The bombers were disposable anyway, their job to cripple the enemy economy.
The fight between the frigates was nearly over. There were only two enemy pickets left, both on dangerously low health. They were moving away, trying to flee from the onslaught against them. It was too late. Ideally, they should have started moving away when the beam frigate came into sensor range. It would have dragged things out, keeping the fight even for longer.
A face appeared on the viewing hologram, framed in a white box. It was a woman’s, her hair long and flowing, her face framed with glasses.
“You got me,” Byeol said. “I concede.” She held up her hands, the tips of her fingers sneaking into the frame. It meant she had removed them from the holotank, giving up all control of her forces. “It was close though.”
“Closeish,” Evan said. “Letting that group of fighters push past your fleet is what cost you. Should have ordered the pickets to change targets faster.”
“You’re right, but it’s easier said than done in the moment. How many of your replays did you watch after a hard Star Commander match and immediately feel like an idiot?”
“Way too many.” Evan let out a chuckle, Byeol wasn't wrong. Like him, she had been abducted by the Kirran Hegemony because of her skills at Earth's most popular strategy game. The Hegemony was under attack and was losing badly. The millennia-old civilisation simply wasn't equipped culturally to cope with the rapidly changing tactics of the enemy, so they had turned to a species that simulated war for fun. “You've got me there.”
“We should watch this back later,” Byeol said. “We might learn a thing or two.”
“Ugh.” Byeol slumped back in her seat, the bottom half of her face vanishing out of the frame. “I was too caught up between trying to rebuild my overseers and commanding the frigates. I just let the bombers pick their own targets and that whole attack was wasted.”
“Should have hit the miners.”
“Nah, I mean normally that’s a good idea, but I should have had them blow past and hit that beam frigate from behind before it got to the fight. I would still have been able to turn around and knock out one of the miners then.”
“Right, yeah that makes sense. We really do need to watch this back, don’t we? Along with all the other simulation sessions. I wonder when Central Command is going to release more units to us?”
“Who knows. Honestly, it's stupid they've still got us doing all this training.”
“Won’t catch me complaining,” Evan said. Not long after his abduction Evan had found himself commanding his training ship in a real battle, control passed over from Rutax, the dying Kirran commander of the vessel. He had led his small crew to victory over the invading aliens, the first Hegemony win in the entire war to date. His success had been met with suspicion initially, then finally grudging acceptance. Evan and his friends had been given a new ship, the Taibo, a heavily armed command dreadnought, but Central Command insisted they complete the initial training that had been laid out for them. Evan wasn't even allowed to use his shiny new warship in the simulations.
“Meet me in the mess hall for lunch?” Byeol said. “I’m starving.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you down there.”
Evan pulled his hands from the holotank and stood up from his chair, stretching his arms as he did. He had never put much stock into ergonomics until he had found himself living on an alien starship. Everything was just subtly different enough that it got uncomfortable over long periods of time. His limbs sufficiently re-energised, Evan headed for the doors behind him. They opened with a pleasing whoosh, and he stepped into the hallway beyond.
The design of the Taibo was different from the last ship Evan had been on, the Yuushan. That was designed to carry passengers, its habitable section built around a single elevator shaft in the ships bulbous front hull. The Taibo was different, its floors much built in a square pattern. Most of the ship's bulk was taken up by the necessary internal components for its weapons and massive construction bay. The habitable sections squeezed into the front of the ship. The sheer size of the vessel meant that each deck was the size of a city block, with as many rooms as there would be buildings. Evan had gotten lost more than once.
“Ah, excuse me, robot?” he said to a passing repair drone. The machine looked like an upside-down cone with a single ball at the bottom that served as its means of locomotion. The orb wasn't physically attached, instead held to the machine by an invisible force. A pair of flexible arms likewise floated near the top of the cone, with a small head with a single eye hovering above it. “Which way to the command deck lift?”
The robot pointed down the corridor to the right.
“Thank you,” Evan said. He watched the robot turn and trundle off towards whatever task it had been assigned. Despite the Taibo’s bigger crew than Evan’s last ship, the sheer size of the vessel made it feel constantly empty. It was a little eerie, just endless corridors of grey and white patrolled by silent automatons. The quicker he met up with Byeol the better. Every deck had its own mess hall, but the crew gravitated to the one on the command deck. Even the aliens found the empty corridors unsettling.
Following the robot’s directions, Evan stepped into an elevator further down the corridor. A hologram sprang to life by the doorway, a blue circle offering the option of several locations. Holograms were common to Hegemony tech, the glowing circles controlling every possible thing. It was a little annoying at times, trying to manipulate a digital menu to flush a toilet or turn on a washing machine. It was the Hegemony, in a nutshell, they had used holograms to control things for centuries, so saw no need to change it despite there being better options. That the emergency kits scattered throughout the ship had to include small handheld generators to get things working in case of power failure should have been enough to nudge them towards physical controls.
Evan pressed the button labelled command deck. The options were thankfully in English, the system detecting his native language from the nanomachines in his body. It was still odd using the holographic controls, Evan’s finger had gone through the button he meant to press, the image providing no resistance. The elevator began to move, though it made no sound, and Evan didn’t feel the twisting in his stomach he was used to. It was hard not to feel like Hegemony technology wasn’t magic sometimes. As far as Evan was concerned the elevator might as well have been a teleporter. He got in, the doors closed, and when they opened again, he was someplace else without any evidence he had moved.
Taking a moment to adjust his black jumpsuit, Evan prepared to step out onto the command deck. There would be other people here, and since becoming an official commander Evan felt the need to at least look presentable. He inhaled, the deep breath filling his lungs, and stepped out of the Elevator.
***
Byeol was already sitting in the mess hall when Evan arrived. She had even taken the liberty of collecting a meal from the food hatches for Evan. She had gone with a standard cheeseburger and fries, an easy fallback. Evan would have preferred something different, but he wasn't going to say anything, instead accepting the gesture for what it was.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a seat. The mess hall had hovering stools next to tables, simple floating discs of metal. “Have you seen Sandeep today?”
“Not yet, I think Tolax was running him through some drills whilst we practised against each other. You know how he can get.”
“Yeah, probably so excited about the training that he just forgot it's supposed to end.” Evan took a bite of his burger. Like most of the food aboard the ship, it was simply fine. Not awful, but not great. The food hatches created the dishes in much the same way the constructor built ships, assembling it layer by layer on a subatomic level. It was working off the average chemical composition of the ingredients, which meant that it could never rise beyond simply mediocre. It was an improvement over most of the Hegemony dishes at least.
“Well, he does need the training the most.” Byeol took a sip of her drink, a glass of crystal clear water. Sandeep had been snatched up by accident when the Hegemony had collected Evan. Whilst he was a Star Commander player, he was ranked right down in bronze league, the bottom of the competitive ladder. Considering his inexperience, he had acquitted himself well so far.
“I think he’s doing alright.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t.” A fork jabbed into a cherry tomato atop Byeol’s light salad. “Can’t hurt though.”
“Well, that depends on how hard Tolax pushes him.” Evan glanced around the hall. Several Kirran's were eating at the other tables, the same species as Tolax and the dominant people of the Hegemony. To Evan, they looked like the aliens you would see on tacky Roswell memorabilia, though they were the same height as him and with blue skin that ran a dozen different shades. They were wearing the same black jumpsuit as Evan, the Hegemony logo emblazoned on the left breast. A constellation of stars roughly lightning bolt-shaped. The cheap tourist rubbish that Evan pictured always had the alien’s nude, which was weird in hindsight.
Tucked in the corner of the room Evan could see Nira, the other scientist assigned to their training. She was scrolling ideally on a hologram projecting from a small black metal disc, the Hegemony equivalent of a tablet or smartphone. Nobody else was sitting at the table, the crew having already learnt to leave her alone unless asked. Nira was tough, no-nonsense and dryly sarcastic. Evan liked that; you knew what you were getting with her. She wasn’t a Kirran like most of the aliens, easily passing for human if it wasn’t for the mass of orange tentacles growing from her head instead of hair.
“He’ll be fine. Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”
