Chapter 38: 38-Battle of Lothal, Part 3
On the Infinity's command bridge, Admiral Arnet stood at attention, his eyes fixed on the holotable projecting the battlefield. Beside him, Serina, the ship's AI, scanned the enemy positions with surgical precision.
"Confirmed, Covenant fleet consisting of 17 cruisers, 8 destroyers, and multiple troop transports," Serina reported. "No signs of vitrification. It appears they are prioritizing surface bombardment."
Arnet nodded, his voice ringing with authority. "Prestone, take command of the fleet. I want coordinated fire on their orbital positions. Neutralize their bombing points. I will send ground forces to reinforce our positions. This planet will not fall, not today."
On the holotable, the face of Prestone Cole, fleet commander, appeared from the bridge of his flagship, the UNSC Las Vegas. His voice was calm but filled with determination.
"Understood, Infinity. Mobilizing escort frigates to flank your destroyers. Halcyon- and Marathon-class cruisers will focus on your capital cruisers. We will keep your big ships busy while you clear the terrain."
The Infinity charged straight toward the Covenant formation, its shields at maximum. As they approached, a CCS-class cruiser attempted to maneuver to fire its plasma beam, but the Infinity cut through its hull like a hot knife through butter. The resulting explosion lit up the void as the cruiser's remains scattered in all directions.
"Infinity to fleet control, one down. We continue with the plan," Arnet communicated coldly.
From the Infinity's launch bays and escort ships, squadrons of F-41 Broadswords and GA-TL1 Longswords emerged at full speed, forming tactical formations that fanned out to cover the Pelicans and Falcons ferrying reinforcements to the surface.
"Bravo Squadron, this is Alpha 1. Hold your positions and cover the transports on vector 3-9-2. Don't let the Banshees get close."
"Roger that, Alpha 1," the Bravo Squadron leader replied as a hail of Covenant fighter shells approached. "We open fire. Keep wings closed and fly low."
The dogfight erupted into a deadly dance of evasive maneuvers and precise fire. The Broadswords demonstrated their technological superiority, shooting down the Banshees with homing missiles and autocannons. However, the overwhelming numbers of enemy fighters forced the UNSC pilots to fight with every ounce of skill.
Meanwhile, the Pelicans began their descent toward Lothal's surface. Inside one of them, a platoon of Marines checked their weapons with steady hands. Among them, Sergeant Johnson supervised his team.
"Listen up, boys," Johnson roared over the roar of the engine. "We're not just fighting for Lothal today. We're fighting to show that psycho Covenant queen that we're not her fucking playthings. We're going to go down, secure positions, and sweep those aliens off the map. Understood?"
"Understood, Sergeant!" the Marines responded in unison.
The Pelicans broke through the atmosphere, their shields withstanding Covenant ground cannon fire. As they approached the designated landing zones, the Marines jumped out of the ships, quickly taking up positions.
"This is Pelican Sierra 8. Ground reinforcements deployed. Requesting air support in quadrant 5-Golf-4," a pilot reported as his ship ascended to avoid enemy fire.
On the Infinity's bridge, Serina reported, "Multiple transports confirmed on the ground. Covenant positions on the surface are being progressively neutralized, but they remain holding strong in the northern and eastern sectors."
Arnet nodded, his eyes fixing on the hologram of the battle. "Serina, prioritize Archer strikes on their anti-air positions. If we maintain control of the air, the battle will be ours. Inform Noble Team that reinforcements are on the way. We will not allow another Tatooine."
The vast blackness of space was a chaos of lights, explosions, and desperate maneuvers. What had once been a silent firmament now vibrated with the fury of a pitched battle. On the bridge of the UNSC Las Vegas, Commander Prestone Cole stood motionless in front of the tactical holomap, a three-dimensional display that projected every detail of the battle. Though alarms blared constantly, his expression remained impassive, focused. Every decision he made would be decisive, and the slightest mistake could doom the entire fleet.
"Damage report," he demanded, his voice firm but controlled, his eyes following the constantly shifting positions of the Covenant fleet.
A tactical officer, beads of sweat on his forehead, responded quickly. "Sir, Covenant destroyers have focused concentrated fire on the escort frigates. UNSC Strident Dawn has lost shields and is suffering significant hull damage. She is maneuvering to stay in formation, but her offensive capabilities are compromised."
Prestone nodded slightly, gauging the response as the bridge vibrated with another nearby impact. "Have Strident Dawn reduce speed and resume defensive position. Prioritize covering fire while we adjust formation."
Another officer chimed in from the communications console. "Sir, Covenant cruisers are reinforcing their centerline. They appear to be anticipating a direct attack on your transports."
The commander gritted his teeth as his mind analyzed every enemy move. The Covenant cruisers and destroyers formed a solid defensive line, shields and plasma weapons ready to disintegrate anything that came close. But Prestone knew that formation had a weak point: it depended on perfect coordination between his larger ships. If he could fracture that line, the transports would be left vulnerable.
"Send the UNSC Resolute and UNSC Pathfinder frigates to the right flank," he ordered with surgical precision. "Have the Paris-class corvettes maintain constant fire on the destroyers on the left flank to distract them. The Las Vegas and Marathon-class cruisers will direct concentrated fire at their center line. We do not seek to eliminate them all, only to break up their formation."
The bridge shook again as an enemy plasma bolt passed dangerously close, illuminating the cockpit in a greenish glow. Prestone did not flinch, though the sound of sparks and alarms filled the air. He had studied the Covenant his entire career. He knew that their strength—their overwhelming firepower—could become their greatest weakness if he could force them to fire without a clear line of sight.
The frigates Resolute and Pathfinder moved determinedly toward the right flank of the Covenant formation. Their engines at full power left incandescent trails in the dark space, while the enemy plasma blasts drew deadly arcs around them. These two ships, though small compared to the colossi of the battle, advanced like a pair of daggers seeking the weak point in the enemy's armor.
On the bridge of the Resolute, Captain Wardley leaned over his tactical console, assessing every enemy move. His voice was steady, laden with the experience of countless engagements.
"Maximum power to forward shields! We need to hold until we can charge the MAC. Paris-class corvettes, hold the line of fire on the destroyers. We cannot allow them to flank us."
All around them, the bridge was a hive of activity. Officers shouted orders, warning lights flashed, and the constant vibrations of nearby impacts shook the ship's structure. Wardley stood unwavering, an anchor amidst the chaos.
From the Archer missile bays of the Resolute and Pathfinder, a storm of missiles emerged in perfectly timed waves. Each shell cut through the void with devastating speed, heading for the Covenant cruiser blocking their advance. Explosions lit up the battlefield as the missiles slammed into enemy shields. Despite the blinding flashes, the cruiser's shields glowed brightly, absorbing the punishment with relentless resilience.
"Multiple hits, but shields still active!" the gunnery officer reported.
Wardley didn't blink. "Never mind. Keep up the pressure. We need to open an opening for the Marathons to exploit."
Suddenly, the Covenant cruiser's plasma turrets swung precisely toward the frigates. A shower of greenish and purple energy beams launched toward the Resolute, slicing through space like snakes seeking their prey.
"Evasive maneuvers, now!" Wardley roared.
The helmsman responded with precision, tilting the ship into a risky turn that allowed him to dodge some, but not all, of the shots. A plasma bolt struck the Resolute's bow squarely, piercing through its weakened shields.
"Critical hit in sectors two and three!" the chief engineer shouted. "Mass depressurization in forward compartments!"
Alarms blared throughout the bridge, and emergency lights flickered with an ominous tone. Wardley glanced at the tactical readouts: the enemy cruiser was vulnerable, but his own ship was on the verge of collapse.
"Captain, MAC is 80% charged!" the gunnery officer reported.
"That's enough. Direct fire at the core of that cruiser!" Wardley ordered.
The magnetic cannon roared with a deafening boom, releasing a tungsten projectile at hypersonic speed. The shell tore through the Covenant cruiser's shields like a hot knife through butter, piercing the hull and exploding from within. The enemy ship split in two, sending fiery fragments in all directions.
The bridge officers briefly celebrated, but their jubilation was cut short by a new threat. A Covenant destroyer, having observed the Resolute's vulnerability, quickly maneuvered and unloaded a concentrated plasma salvo. The bolts struck the frigate's already damaged hull, ripping off metal plates and depressurizing additional compartments.
"Emergency in the reactors! We've lost control over the power systems!" the chief engineer shouted.
Wardley looked at his crew, his eyes filled with determination. He knew the Resolute would not survive, but he also knew they could still be useful.
"Transfer all remaining power to the Archer turrets," he ordered in a firm voice. "I want every missile to find its target. Evacuate personnel now! Those who can, take the escape pods. The rest, with me. Let's give them something to remember."
The remaining gunners loaded the final Archer salvos. A storm of missiles shot towards the Covenant destroyer, hitting its shields with such intensity that they finally collapsed. Without defenses, the destroyer took direct damage to its hull, beginning to lose stability.
Meanwhile, Wardley remained on the bridge, observing the scene with a mixture of pride and resignation. The Resolute, unable to endure any longer, began to fall apart. With a final tremor, the main reactor exploded, unleashing a shockwave that disintegrated the remains of the frigate and finally destroyed the Covenant destroyer.'
From the bridge of the Pathfinder, Captain Foley watched the destruction with clenched fists. The explosion of the Resolute lit up the battlefield, a reminder of the price every victory exacted.
"May your sacrifice not be in vain," he muttered, his voice subdued. Then, with renewed determination, he gave new orders.
"Divert all power to shields and prepare a full Archer salvo. We will finish what you started. Move forward and keep the pressure on those destroyers!"
The Pathfinder sped toward the enemy line, leading a charge that inspired nearby corvettes and frigates. The comms filled with messages of support as UNSC ships coordinated precise strikes against the most vulnerable targets.
The Covenant's right flank began to collapse under the combined pressure of the UNSC forces. The Resolute's sacrifice had weakened their formation enough for the Marathons and Infinity to concentrate fire on their capital ships. Though the loss weighed on the hearts of all who had witnessed it, the Resolute's name would go down as a symbol of bravery and sacrifice.
On the bridge of the Las Vegas, Prestone Cole watched the tactical data. As he saw the enemy's right flank collapse, he allowed himself a slight sigh. In a firm voice, he relayed a message to the entire fleet.
"The Resolute gave everything she had for this victory. We will not let her sacrifice be in vain. All ships, hold formation and finish the job."
Chaos reigned in the space above Lothal. The UNSC and Covenant faced each other with everything they had, and the battle grew fiercer with each passing second. Blinding explosions lit up the blackness of the void as forces from both factions fought for every inch of advantage. The UNSC fleet, led by the Infinity, maneuvered with surgical precision, but the Covenant held firm, their numerical superiority putting them in a position of advantage.
The Infinity, a colossus on the battlefield, led the main assault. Its Archer turrets and MAC cannons fired relentlessly, sending shells tearing through enemy lines. Each shot was a ray of hope for the human forces, but the Covenant responded with brutality. Their cruisers and destroyers fired waves of plasma that crashed into the UNSC fleet's shields, weakening them with each impact.
On the Infinity's bridge, Admiral Arnet remained at his post, assessing the battle as his ship absorbed enemy fire. The ship's AI, Serina, coldly analyzed the situation.
"Admiral, we've lost three frigates on the left flank. Covenant destroyers are reinforcing their centerline. I recommend a shock maneuver to break their formation."
Arnet nodded, his eyes fixed on the tactical display. "Tell the fleet to keep pressure on the flanks. We'll take the center."
The Infinity's engines roared to full blast as the ship accelerated straight toward the Covenant's centerline. Two CCS-class cruisers attempted to block their path, firing a shower of plasma that made the flagship's shields sizzle. But the Infinity didn't stop. Its reinforced bow slammed straight into the first cruiser, cutting through its hull like a hot knife through butter. The impact unleashed a massive explosion that sent metal shards flying in all directions.
The second cruiser attempted to maneuver to avoid the same fate, but was too slow. The Infinity, still shrouded in the wreckage of the first cruiser, turned sharply and activated its emergency thrusters, ramming the second cruiser from the side. The resulting explosion was even more spectacular, lighting up the battlefield in a fiery glow as both ships disappeared in a cloud of fire and debris.
"Admiral, the hull has taken severe damage, but we are operational," Serina reported. "The Covenant centerline is in disarray. I suggest seizing the moment for a massive attack."
"Have the Marathons load their MACs and fire at will. The Broadswords will cover the advance," Arnet ordered.
Meanwhile, in nearby space, UNSC Broadswords fighters fought off endless waves of Covenant Banshees and Seraphs. The aerial maneuvers were a spectacle of skill and desperation. Human pilots weaved through enemy plasma bolts, their homing missiles and autocannons wreaking havoc on the ranks of the Covenant fighters.
"Raptor 6, I've got a Seraph on my tail!" one pilot shouted as he performed a spiral maneuver to try and shake off his pursuer.
"I've got it, Raptor 6. Hold your ground," his wingman replied before firing a salvo of missiles that reduced the Seraph to a pile of glowing rubble.
A full squadron of Broadswords, led by Commander Phantom 1, formed a wedge and launched a beeline for a group of Covenant transports escorted by Banshees. The transports, filled with reinforcements bound for Lothal's surface, were prime targets.
"All fighters, concentrate fire on the transports. Don't let them reach the atmosphere!" Phantom 1 ordered.
The Broadswords unleashed a barrage of missiles, destroying several transports in a series of spectacular explosions. However, the Banshees responded with fury, diving into the human fighters. One by one, the Broadswords began to fall.
"We lost Raptor 2 and 4! We need reinforcements!" a pilot shouted as he narrowly dodged a plasma bolt.
"Hold formation! We're almost there!" Phantom 1 responded, leading a suicidal attack on the larger transport. His Broadsword struck the enemy ship directly, destroying it in an explosion that left a momentary void on the battlefield.
On the bridge of the Las Vegas, Commander Prestone Cole watched the chaos on the tactical screens. The UNSC fleet was gaining ground, but at a great cost. With a firm voice, he gave his next order.
"Deploy the Paris-class corvettes to the left flank. We need to reinforce that line before it collapses. Have the remaining frigates maintain covering fire for the assault ships."
The corvettes accelerated to the left flank, firing their Archers at the Covenant destroyers attempting to surround the UNSC. One of the corvettes, the UNSC Gallant, charged directly at a destroyer, firing its MAC at point-blank range before being destroyed by a plasma salvo. Its sacrifice allowed the larger ships to maintain formation.
Back in the thick of the battle, the Marathons launched a coordinated barrage of MACs at the Covenant flagship. The shells tore through the massive ship's shields and exploded in its main reactor. The flagship, a massive Assault Carrier-class cruiser, began to disintegrate, its frame splitting in two as a massive explosion consumed it.
"The Covenant flagship is down!" Serina announced.
At that moment, the Covenant fleet began to fall into disarray. Without their lead ship, the enemy forces began to fall back, but not before launching one last desperate counterattack. A group of destroyers launched themselves at the Infinity, attempting to destroy it before retreating.
"Divert all power to forward shields and prepare to engage the MAC," Arnet ordered.
The Covenant destroyers opened fire, their plasma bolts striking the Infinity's shields with devastating force. The UNSC flagship responded with a final salvo from its MAC, destroying two destroyers before the last plasma bolt tore through the shields and struck the aft section.
"Critical damage to main engines!" Serina reported.
"All remaining ships to focus on protecting Infinity," Arnet ordered as alarms blared throughout the bridge.
With the last of its strength, Infinity turned its turrets toward the remaining destroyer and destroyed it with a final explosion. The battlefield fell silent for a moment, littered with the floating remains of destroyed ships. The UNSC fleet had won, but at a heavy cost.
End of Chapter 38.
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