"The Cicadas Cry"

The heavy destroyer HDS Haruno coasted at low speed midway between the system’s sun and the outer gravity well limit. The Haruno was in effect the flag ship of the Higurashi Space Defence Force with its hundred and ninety thousand tonne weight and its modern and efficient sensor suite which gave it the sharpest eyes and ears of the entire Space Defence Force. Calling her a “destroyer” was a bit silly, Lieutenant-Commander Jennifer Reese thought as she watched the computer generated image of the ship on its bridge viewscreen.

The Haruno had been one of the first vessels to raise the flag of the Higurashi Separatists and was the command vessel of Task Group 1, which was composed of all combat effective ships in the Higurashi System under Separatist flag. There weren't that many of them, as Higurashi had never needed many warships. Their neighbours had for the most part left them in peace, and no odd pirate raider had ever dared enter the system, the simple prospect of meeting a dozen or so destroyers and frigates made the most daring pirate turn around and head for home. The Haruno was much larger than most heavy destroyers and carried an impressive array of weapons, including sixteen railgun batteries, four plasma cannon batteries and even two Medium Mass Driver Cannons. She also carried several missile launchers and had impressive storage space for missiles with which she could deal some serious damage at long range if it came to that.

Jennifer had come on board the ship only three weeks back after getting her orders from the esteemed Lordships of the Admiralty. She was to be the Star Kingdom’s military attaché and liaison officer to the Higurashi Separatists until which time they established their own government and their own official space navy. She hadn’t been too happy about the orders, as any sane person would agree. Very few would jump at the chance of sitting on a foreign starship in such a backwater place as Higurashi. Higurashi was a tiny speck of dust on the map of Human Space, and with a population of only about seven hundred million and settled "only" three hundred years back. The original settlers were almost exclusively from the country of Japan on Old Earth, but it wasn't the primary colonial venture made by the Japanese. Most human colonies had been settled by people from many countries on Earth, and only a few more unusual examples such as the Star Kingdom itself, Jericho, Afridi and Neu Brandenburg had been settled by a specific ethnic or cultural group. Higurashi was the third system settled by large numbers of Japanese settlers, and Japanese culture was the predominant one, with Shinto and Shinto-Buddhism being the major religions. Something had been fouled up over the years however, as Higurashi's political system had over time become more and more corrupt and misguided. Which was the primary reason for the current uprising.

Jennifer had been very skeptical at first, but she found that she liked her posting to the Higurashi Separatist SDF. The Haruno was a powerful and large ship and the crew was efficient and helpful. Jennifer had just given up her position as tactical officer on board the heavy cruiser HMS Westmoreland and knew a ship was only as good as its crew, and if the crew of the Haruno was anything to go by, the ship would be the equal to any Royal Navy ship of same class and size.

“How do you like her?”

Captain Isomoto Akage had a nasty case of ‘silent feet’ and Jennifer jumped as he suddenly spoke in her ear. The captain laughed and walked past her to look at the bridge viewscreen.
The Haruno, like virtually all military vessels, had a very formally arranged bridge organization. The captain’s chair was more or less in the centre of the bridge with the XO’s chair just to its right. These were usually elevated over the other stations of the bridge which ran either in parallel lines or in a semi-circle around the captain’s chair. The main viewscreen was directly to the front of the captain’s chair so he or she would have total control of the tactical situation at any time. Sub stations would be placed either on the side or on the rear wall, opposite of the viewscreen. The largest warships, such as Royal Navy dreadnoughts or Alliance Superbattleships could have up to sixty bridge crew operating at the same time, with another thirty/forty on the flag bridge which was the dedicated command centre for admirals and flag officers. The Haruno was much smaller than that, but for a small space navy such as the Higurashi Space Defence Force, it was impressive in Jennifer’s eyes.

She turned to the Higurashii captain. “She’s a beauty, sir. She’s larger than any of the RN’s destroyer classes by far, and I’ve been on heavy cruisers with lighter armament.”
Akage nodded, and gave a small smile, apparently pleased with the feedback from the foreign officer. He walked up to the main screen and studied it for a few moments before turning back to the Lieutenant Commander.

“It appears that our guests have arrived, at long last.” The captain’s accent was heavily influenced by his first language of Japanese, his tones clipped and vowels strange in Jennifer's ears. She'd had a lot of difficulty adjusting to the local accent when she first had come on board, and admitted to herself that she still struggled with it.

“We have been expecting them for some time," the captain continued "but they sure took their time getting here. They’ll probably spend a few more hours dealing with the minefield while we pull back our ships and prepare to defend the inner system. Even though they outnumber us, we should be able to deal some serious damage to them, and hopefully knocking out that aircraft carrier and at least some of their destroyers.
We don’t have the most powerful task force assembled here, and we probably won’t be able to stop them even if we got lucky. We’ll just have to limit ourselves to damaging them as much as possible before pulling back, and harass them at a later stage. We have a lot of ground troops on both Akatsuki and on the home planet itself, which our enemies will have a tough time rooting out.”

Jennifer nodded and wondered if she should address the fact that he had called the Alliance and the Higurashi Loyalists, “our enemies”. The Star Kingdom was, officially at least, uninvolved in the civil war and fervently maintained a neutral official line. Jennifer’s own presence was not an indication of Auroran support to the Separatists, per se, but it showed that the heads of both government and military in the Star Kingdom were inclined to support them if the current situation improved, or if the Loyalists proved to be less of a proper alternative. Jennifer knew the current leadership of the Higurashi System was not exactly the stellar and innocent bunch of guys which they continued to claim they were. Independent journalists and human rights’ groups had uncovered many cases of political corruption, imprisonment of political opposition groups and censorship of news. The Separatist Movement had started as a hidden opposition group on Akatsuki, formed mainly by students and mine workers, before rapidly expanding late last year, and included the majority of the satellite city’s adult population. When the government had sent in the Army to dissolve the organization and arrest its ring leaders, the city had risen up in revolt. Over two thousand people had been killed in the riots and the fighting between the military and the militant parts of the Separatist Movement, but the government had been forced to pull out the troops and all government officials from the city, leaving the Separatists with their first victory.

They hadn’t rested on their laurels, and started to spread their message of unity against the government of Higurashi. More and more people had answered the call, and large parts of the Space Defence Force had defected, eventually taking with them every single warship and the vast majority of equipment and trained personnel.
In reaction, the so-called Loyalist faction requested the assistance from the Alliance to suppress the rebel forces which threatened to overthrow the legitimate and rightful government of the Higurashi System. The Separatists, which was a motley collection of most political ideologies and convictions, sought support from the Star Kingdom, which the majority, though far from all, considered to be their closest ally in regards to politics and ideology. And the Star Kingdom had responded with sending a certain Lieutenant Commander Reese as both military and political liaison and observer. A job she now believed she would have been better off without.

She folded her hands behind her back and walked up to the captain and studied the viewscreen for herself. The Separatist Task Group 1 was composed of seven destroyers and a dozen frigates, arrayed against a fleet carrier, three light cruisers and about fifteen destroyers, though the Alliance ECM made it hard to be certain. They wouldn’t be able to hold long in a traditional engagement, which was why Admiral Nagushi, the senior naval commander of the Separatists had suggested the Grant minefield, to use them as a protective screen, while the Separatist warships bombarded the Alliance with every long range weapon they had available. It was, in theory, a good plan. Jennifer just prayed she would come through it intact.

*

“Prepare for launch, repeat, all fighters of the 118th Wing, prepare for launch. Demon One through Fourteen will launch from Launch Bay One, Fifteen through Twenty-Two will launch from Launch Bay Two. Remember, we’ll be in range of both the enemy mines and their escort class ships. I don’t want any of you going after the ships, just focus on the mines. The big boys will take care of the enemy ships, once we clear the mines for them. Got it?”

Twenty-one lights blinked green on Dervish’s M46 fighter HUD, the pilots of 118th Wing confirming their commander’s orders. Endeavour’s Flight Deck 1 was divided into two launch bays with three linear catapults each. Each linear catapult could sling a small craft away at a whooping 500 km/h, reducing the necessity of using immense amounts of fuel for the initial launch and take-off, giving the craft a high initial acceleration. The catapult then reset itself as the next craft entered the launch cue before locking on with magnetic tractors and slinging the next plane out into space.

The first fighter lined up on the catapult in Launch Bay 1 and Dervish watched as the hangar doors shut and the Flight Deck launch doors opened, the artificial gravity shut off and the air cycled out to avoid an explosive decompression. The planes’ landing gears were fitted with magnetic locks which held them to the deck, while they waited for the launch. The flight controllers ran through their pre-launch checks with individual pilots, scribbling down notes and ticking off fields on their old style paper clipboards. Then the launch bay lights switched from bright orange to bright green, and the first fighter shot forward and disappeared through the launch doors. Then another, and another, and another until it was Dervish’s turn to launch. He braced himself in his seat, preparing for the sudden g-forces which would have crushed him to a pulp if he had been in a planet’s gravity. He still felt the gravitational forces crush down on him, but not enough to harm him or make him sick. Still, it was very uncomfortable, and he held up his right hand and brought his thumb and forefinger together in the ancient sign for “all okay”. The flight controller gave him a thumbs-up and pressed a button on his keyboard.

The next thing Dervish knew, he was already several kilometres away from the Endeavour and still accelerating, his engines having started automatically when the on board computer understood it had been launched into space. Dervish collected himself and looked around on his HUD. Space was way too dark and large for pilots to trust their own eyes when regrouping or looking for the other members of their squadron, and therefore they were totally dependent on the on board computers and the advanced sensors most small craft were equipped with.

His HUD showed the enemy minefield as a large belt of red dots, with the other members of 118th Wing as small dots of light blue against the purple hue of the HUD itself. He pressed down his left middle finger, activating his com set, which was programmed at an inter-squadron frequency.

“All Demons, form up on me, box formation. We’ll do this by the book, and everyone’ll get home in one piece. Demon Sixteen, I don’t want any heroics today. Just because you graduated top of your class at flight school, doesn’t mean you get to play the hero today. ‘Cause remember, people; heroes are someone who gets other people killed.”

Confirmations and complaints rattled in, but Dervish cut through the radio chatter.

“That’s final, so shut up and stay of the net unless you have something constructive to say. We’re coming up on the RZ mark; one-point-seven k clicks out. Time to target, thirty-two point seven-seven minutes, mark. All Demons, proceed with operational com silence.”

Dervish flicked off his com and settled back in his seat. He watched his HUD as the twenty-one other fighters closed in and formed a loose box around and behind him, with his plane forming one of the “corners” of the box, going diagonal-wise. He gave more power to his primary thrusters and watched the countdown until contact with the minefield and the countdown (in ominous red) which marked the time until they would be within firing range of the mines’ weapons. He watched it go down to twenty-eight and flexed his hands on the stick. Time for the fly-boys to shine, possibly like small stars of expanding gas and debris, he though with a wry grin.

*

“The enemy has launched, repeat, the enemy has launched small craft!”

Lieutenant Shiro Takahashi, the tactical officer on HDS Haruno, called out into the bridge and sparked a flurry of activity. Every officer, technician and enlisted personnel on the bridge sprang to action, bringing up sensor data, reading over enemy numbers, trying to discern correct info from the garbage the Alliance ECM kept feeding their sensors, and informing the gun captains and bringing the ship’s weapons online. Captain Akage span on his heel from where he stood watching the main viewscreen, and sat down in the captain’s chair. Jennifer suddenly felt very much like the proverbial fifth wheel on the wagon as she dodged a First-Class Technician on his way to the communications station, and she considered making her way off the bridge and down to the Combat Information Centre where it possibly was a bit calmer. Akage saw her spinning on her heels without anywhere to go and beckoned for her to sit by him, on the XO’s chair. She blushed as she understood her disorientation was so plainly visible, before trudging up the small flight of stairs and sat down in the comfortable chair. Commander Hinata Wakashi was currently walking around on the bridge deck, shouting orders, her khaki and gold uniform standing out against the khaki on black uniforms of most of the bridge crew. The myriad of strangely coloured uniforms, made Jennifer conscious of her own uniform and appearance.

The Royal Auroran Navy was very precise about the use of uniforms on different occasions. The Nr.1 Service Uniform had long black trousers, a grey tunic with black shoulder pads and high neck. A dark blue beret with the RAN emblem topped it all off. The Nr.2 Dress Uniform was essentially the same as the Service Uniform, except for the tunic which had an open neck and a long skirt which went down to one’s ankles. The skirt was mandatory for both men and women, along with a black necktie. The Nr.3 Parade Uniform was very similar to the Dress Uniform, except that it was white and black and had an obscene amount of golden cords and trimmings and even an anachronistic “mess sword”. There were more uniforms as well, such as the Nr.4 Utility Uniform with hardened elbows, knees and back with a toned-down colour palette and the Nr.9 Funeral Dress Uniform which was entirely black and dark grey.

Right now, Jennifer was wearing her Service Uniform, as per regulations on normal duty. Captain Akage and the other command personnel’s uniforms were a dark khaki with golden trimmings and details, with dark green trousers. They all also wore heavy peaked caps, which, Jennifer surmised, must cause terrible neck ache. They were certainly much heavier than the light beret she wore. The other personnel on the bridge wore less sparkling versions of their officers’ uniforms, though no headgear which Jennifer found very strange and alien compared to the RAN’s practice.

Appearance-wise she couldn’t be much more different from the Higurashii personnel. She was, firstly, about ten centimetres taller than the tallest local on the bridge which made her stand out quite dramatically. Secondly, she had hair like the star of Higurashi itself, and she wore it long around her shoulders. Thirdly, like most of Caucasian heritage, she had large, oval eyes with a shockingly green iris, where the majority of the Higurashii was black of hair and had dark brown eyes.
She mentally shook her head, cleared her throat and looked back at Captain Akage.

“Sir, what’ll happen now? Will you move to engage?”
He stole a glance at her before concentrating again on the viewscreen.

“Probably, in a short while. It’s really up to Admiral Nagushi, who’s down in CIC, and he’ll send up orders to the squadron when he’s made his mind up.”
“Why is he down in CIC? Wouldn’t it be better to have him up here, where it would be easier to confer with his command staff and the other CO’s in the squadron?”

The captain smiled while still looking at the viewscreen.

“You most certainly know that we don’t have ships large enough to incorporate flag bridges which you in the Royal Navy use, and yes, it would perhaps be more prudent for the fleet commander to have access to the command bridge and the sophisticated equipment found there, and the communications equipment and com pick-ups here would make it easier to coordinate with the rest of the formation. But our fleet CO’s are normally down in the flagship’s CIC for the same reason your fleet CO’s have their own flag bridges. To keep them from meddling in with the operation of the flagship, which is the responsibility of the ship’s CO, and vice versa, to keep the flagship’s captain from meddling with fleet-wide affairs, which is the fleet CO’s responsibility.”

Jennifer opened her mouth to protest, to say that RAN flag bridges actually had better communication and sensor data output equipment to facilitate the fleet CO’s tasks, when she heard Commander Wakashi shout out loudly.

*

Simultaneously, about 900,000 kilometres away, HDS Natsu, a hundred-and-ten thousand tonne destroyer coasted and prepared for battle. The crew on board the ship was coming to battle stations, running to their designated posts and putting on EVA suits just in case the ship took a direct hit and air could escape. Captain Tomoe Morita sat down in her captain’s chair and read the sensor data. The enemy had launched just short of two dozen small craft, most likely fighter or interceptor class, which currently were just short of the minefield’s firing range. The mines would be dangerously exposed to the fighters’ missiles and would probably be reduced to piles of slag in space in just a few short minutes, unless the Separatist fleet did something about it.

“Captain, orders from flag. All ahead flank speed. We are to come about to two-five-zero-zero-nine and prepare to open fire on the enemy fighters with light missile launchers.” Ensign Mio Tsukehara’s voice cut through the din of the bridge’s operations and Morita nodded.

“Helm, come about to two-five-zero-zero-nine. Flank speed. Tactical, tell the gunnery crews to get their arses in gear and get those anti-aircraft missile launchers up and running.”

Like almost all modern ships, the Natsu carried a number of light missile launcher designed to combat small craft. Unlike missiles intended for anti-ship combat, these missiles were much smaller and used a heavy cluster warhead which spread several hundred smaller bomblets in a large radius when the warhead detonated. These would then explode, and (hopefully) take with them any small craft within their not-inconsiderable range.
The Natsu sped forward, the drives coming up and pushing the ship forward through sheer brute force. Her division mate, the Ieyasu, started forward as well, preparing to combat the Alliance fighters and anything else which came into range.

Captain Morita leaned back into her seat and steeped her hands under her chin, going over the plot data as it became available. Suddenly she heard a crash behind her, and she spun the chair around. A First Rating stood in the bridge doorway, with something which looked ominously like blood all over his hands and chest. By his feet lay what had been one of the communications techs, just a few short moments ago. His back was a sodden, bloody mess and the dark fluid stained the floor and his uniform. Morita’s brain stopped working and she looked around. A figure with the uniform and markings of a Senior Technician stood by the wall, close to the sensor control station... with a pistol in her hand. Before Morita could even open her mouth to say something, the Senior Tech fired again, and the First Rating flew backwards and hit the bridge door with a heavy thump, before he hit the floor, leaving a smear of blood against on the door.

Ensign Tsukehara cursed violently, and sprang on her feet. Like all of Higurashi Space Defence Force personnel, she was trained in martial arts, and particularly in judo and taekwondo, and she bolted forward. She never got within an arm’s reach, as the gunman span around and fired again and the ensign’s throat disappeared in a cascade of blood and flesh. She stopped midstride, gasped and clawed at the bloody mess between her shoulders and head, before she fell face forward onto the deck sole. Suddenly, another person sprang up with a weapon in hand, this time Ensign Ichimonji, who operated the astrogation station, and he started to shoot around him indiscriminately. Morita looked on helplessly as people she had known and worked with for nearly five years, died around her. The guns didn’t produce smoke, but when the proverbial smoke settled, Morita was alone with the two murderers. She’d known Ichimonji for three years, and she looked at him with an expression of disbelief, the shock of events preventing her from making even the simplest sentence.

The ensign simply smiled, levelled his gun at her and spoke softly.
“For Higurashi and its people.”

Then he pressed the trigger. Again and again.