by Aer-ki Jyr
And the fleet’s Magicite wells were all full to the brim.
The DinoThunder moved to the head of their central formation, with the other ships flaring out around it and going backwards in a spiral to form a column, and staggered behind it would eventually be 8 other columns. The trick to fighting the Hadarak was not letting them surround you entirely, so the columns’ circular width always had friendly ships on one of your sides, and if the enemy minions or larger vessels tried to get inside the column, they’d be surrounded by weapons batteries that had no line of sight other than into the hollow center…and in that environment they would not survive more than a few minutes at best.
Those hollow centers also allowed a fallback position for damaged ships on the exterior of the column, allowing them to rotate in as other ships took their place on the front lines. All of Mak’to’ran’s columns were at least three lines deep, except for the primary, which was 9 deep with the DinoThunder at the head. He wasn’t going to nip at the edges of the Hadarak swarm as combat normally played out. He had the strength here to force melee range combat on their largest units immediately, and the minions would not be able to stop their advance with all the tonnage he had to bring to bear, let alone the DinoThunder’s primary weapon.
There was a reason only one had been built to date, and that reason was the Nova Incinerator Matrix, or NIM, that the entire forward half of the ship was covered with, and in fact designed around. The NIM was designed to destroy biological mass and stone-like armor, and could be countered easily by strong shields…but the Hadarak had none. The DinoThunder was not a match for a Borg vessel. Not even close in a head to head, but against the Hadarak, the amount of damage that could be inflicted on the enemy was unmatched in the rest of the Star Force arsenal, and he took a significant amount of pride in that. But never had he had a moment of opportunity such as this to hit the enemy so hard and so fast…and he wasn’t going to miss it.
As soon as the last ships in his convoy arrived and moved into formation, Mak’to’ran had his fleet make a soft microjump towards the jumppoint the Hadarak were exiting on…and he left the command deck for the rear stairs that led him down several levels to the solitary firing station that was a gigantic spherical chamber with a single walkway extending out into the center.
As he strode down it the walls of the sphere lit up with images of the exterior of the ship, then tactical markings were added on top of them. No neural interface could be used here, despite its increased accuracy. Mak’to’ran or one of the other few Hakja onboard that were cleared to operate the weaponry had to have their mind firmly grasping reality rather than a simulation, for the weapon couldn’t fire anywhere near full power without an Essence enhancement, and that had to be done manually.
Other Essence weaponry on the ship only required a filled Materia and a button press, but the NIM was radically advanced Ysalamir technology blended with Essence techniques that were only a few hundred years old. Mak’to’ran was going to have to extend his Essence out into the primary firing chamber, which was directly around the sphere he stood, and manipulate it to get the necessary tuning. If he failed the weapon would still work, though not as well, and the 9x multiplier was something that they couldn’t afford to miss out on when there were that many Hadarak so tightly grouped together.
Mak’to’ran had skilled commanders onboard his vessel, enough to fill a fleet of warships, so he wasn’t worried about personally directing the combat. They could handle it well without him, but they could not take his place here, for he was the most skilled Era’tran or V’kit’no’sat when it came to Essence techniques, and not by a small margin. He’d dedicated a significant portion of his life to learning and growing his personal power, and the NIM’s effectiveness scaled off it, meaning that in the future that 9x effect would raise to 10…then 11…and so on as he grew stronger.
That meant the most damage he could do to the enemy was standing on this elevated platform in the center of this holographic chamber watching the battles take place under others’ direction as he gave them the necessary power to obliterate any Hadarak formation they were passing through.
And therein lay the catch. The NIM was not a ranged weapon, at least not in the visual sense. The ship was so large that the range of the NIM was greater than the long range weaponry of lesser race’s ships, but general close proximity was required…which was why the V’kit’no’sat fleet made up of 32 of their races’ ships wasn’t going to fully brake and stand toe to toe with the Hadarak exchanging fire.
They were going to dive into their ranks and pass through them enroute to the jumppoint, then circle around and make many more passes. This was not an evasive maneuver designed to get them to the PanNari system. This was to cut through the heart of the swarm as many times as the enemy would allow before disbanding and fleeing the system.
And given the stubbornness of the Hadarak, Mak’to’ran expected at least a dozen such passes, though he hoped for more.
The elder Era’tran finally reached the center of the chamber, which the V’kit’no’sat referred to as a De’shor’nak, which was an alteration of an old word that meant ‘focal point.’ He planted his feet into two imprints in the floor that vaguely matched them, then the silver material in the floor melted slightly and crept inward so that it perfectly matched his feet, which would not move through the entire battle.
Three armatures raised from the floor, two going to just in front of his short arms where he placed his hands on them, and the third rose up near the tip of his tail but short of it, allowing Mak’to’ran to settle it into the groove that likewise lightly bonded to it, supporting his body as well as allowing a physical connection to the equipment that would act as conduits for his Essence so he didn’t have to try to expand it through the air out to the hidden ring beyond the walls that he had to connect to. Tethers running through the platform made of specialized Essence-insulative material did so much better, but he did not make connection now, knowing his limits with using the technology. Instead he waited as the view outside had the enemy clouds ahead of them gradually expanding to cover all of his vision, then that expansion slowed greatly as the final braking maneuver was made and the command deck signaled him to make ready the weapon.
Mak’to’ran stirred the Essence within him, pushing it out of his body down the channels provided by the armatures, but he did not relinquish control of it as he would when releasing it into a weapon blast or healing aura. It felt like he was pushing a piece of himself out of his body, stretching his Core and mind beyond his physical boundaries, though that wasn’t really what was happening. That was the sensation though as he became intimately familiar with things beyond himself along the connective lines until his Essence reached the ring that surrounded his position hidden behind the walls of the De’shor’nak.
There he had to work to get it all incorporated into his possession, and once he did his Essence settled, though it took a considerable amount of will power to control so much beyond himself. One lapse and his personal Essence beyond his body would evaporate and he would have to start over. That was one reason why he could not be mentally connected to the battle computers or exterior sensors. He had to focus on his task and his task alone, while allowing his eyes only to see what was occurring outside.
The ring he now possessed was the head of the primary firing chamber, with the other rings further back feeding through this one last of all before being released to the hull. The Materia that was the NIM would create the weapon effect in the other rings, then this last one was when Mak’to’ran would enhance it by manually altering the weaponized Essence in a way that no machine could…at least not at present. Perhaps one day it would be possible, but then again Star Force might design even greater weapons using harder techniques.
None of that mattered now. The NIM was here, and Mak’to’ran’s skill was going to determine how much final alteration he could make to the weaponized Essence. 9x effect was the best he had managed to date, but it wasn’t easy nor
automatic. He could try hard and only get 7x, so he had to focus all his attention and inner might on giving the DinoThunder the most lethal augment he could, but right now he was waiting as he signaled the command deck that he was primed. When they pressed the buttons to fire the weapon, it would pass through Mak’tor’an’s extended Essence in the ring and that was when he would have to work his powers on it not once, but as many times as the ship fired.
If he lost his strength another Hakja was standing by to replace him. In fact four were waiting, for once you exhausted your willpower on this weapon you could not use it again for days. The strain was that great, but also dependent on how deep you pushed. And in this first pass through the enemy swarm Mak’to’ran was not going to hold back for longevity’s sake.
The view before him sent a spike of adrenaline through his body. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. Battle against the Hadarak had become routine for him, but he had never been in the targeting range of a fleet such as this, and he could already see their weaponsfire mounting as it rained out towards the V’kit’no’sat in such a density that no living being in the universe could survive it.
But the analytical part of Mak’to’ran’s mind disagreed with the obvious, knowing the strength of his fleet and the temporary window they had to sustain such an energy rainstorm…and at the speed they were moving, they wouldn’t be out in the clear for very long. And once inside the Hadarak formations, they’d have to more carefully focus their shots or risk hitting their own units. Out here in the clear they had no such limitations, and Mak’to’ran was glad he could not see the shield strength on his ships start to decline. All he had was the magnificent view beyond him, and a sense of the Essence building in the rest of the primary firing chamber.
He also got a warning indicating the ship was going to fire, though he didn’t need it. He could feel the pressure building and the glowing Essence contorting into unnatural forms that could not persist long. But a weapon didn’t need to persist long, only long enough to get to the target, and the screeching of the Essence being wound up ever so tightly prickled down Mak’to’ran’s back, but he grit his teeth and prepared for it, for it was going to hurt his own Essence as it passed through and fight for dominance.
His had to be the stronger in order to make the alteration, which was why most Essence users could not operate this weapon. Only the most advanced could even attempt it. And only he had truly mastered the ability to fire it with regularity, and today was no exception.
The coiled Essence spun forward, contorting more with each ring it passed through, then it spun into the final one and Mak’to’ran felt it hit him even though his body was not contacted. It was as if he was in the ring as much as he was in the chamber, and when his focus had to go there he lost nearly all contact with his body…but the armatures kept him standing upright and in connection to the conduits, otherwise he would have stumbled and broke physical contact without realizing it.
The amount of Essence passing through the ring felt like a controlled flood, and he had to push hard to make it bend to his will. He could not stop it though. That was impossible, for he didn’t have the strength. He had to divert it along its path in such a way that it made slight alterations, constrictions, weaves, and so forth. It could not be accurately explained in words, only in feel, which was why he had to teach the other Hakja through memories and their own battlemeld psionic that superseded the natural telepathy of the V’kit’no’sat by leaps and bounds.
But Mak’to’ran was not connected to the others now. It would have been deleterious for him. He was locked inside the De’shor’nak where none could reach him physically, and it was also shielded telepathically so he could not be sabotaged during this critical moment.
It took a great deal of effort, but the Essence passing through the final ring gave way and predictably altered under his pressure, enhancing the effect by a personal best 10.2x effect as the continual surge passed through his invisible grasp and headed out to the thousands of emitters covering the front half of his knife-like ship, and from there the visibly orange/pink energy bathed the front of the ship in a sheath that obscured all view through it, including sensors, which was why there were several protrusions above the sloped hull to give the ship view ahead from the rear half.
Arcs of errant energy escaping the capsulation leapt up and circled back around, reminiscent of prominences seen in stars. The Nova Incineration Matrix filled the entire front half of the ship, with Mak’to’ran having to continue supplying it with energy as it bled off heavily in to the vacuum of space, but the pool contained over the ship moved with it into the dense Hadark swarms and disappeared inside a moment later, along with the other ships in the lead column following along the edges of the expanding fireworks that rippled out in a cone many times the length of the DinoThunder.
For upon coming into contract with the pent up NIM energy, every Mainline ship and minion that got within range acted as a conduit for it, with the orange/pink energy leaping out to the mass, incinerating it, and then leaping out to the next and next so long as there were enough objects in range for it to pass through.
And in this densely packed enemy swarm, there was no limit to the possible jumps…meaning the full power of the weapon was able to discharge, and that was something that Mak’to’ran nor anyone else had ever witnessed before…
6
July 21, 154959
Gordara Buen System (Hesphatus Region)
Attachiak
“Are you sure this is accurate?” Rajamal asked, holding up the message cube that the Zen’zat courier had just brought him.
“I confirmed it before I brought it,” Theodral said firmly. “I ran it by my contacts in Star Force. Zen’zat that I know would not lie to me. They confirmed the content as accurate.”
The rebel Zen’zat looked down at the cube in his hand, weighing the significance of this moment.
“How can we be this lucky?” he demanded.
“Perhaps it is not for us to dictate the future, only to fight in the present, and this is our reward.”
“Those are not your words,” Rajamal noted.
“They are those of Hamob, an Era’tran I once served.”
“Is he still alive?”
“I do not know. He was a reclusive power behind the Yaern’ek, and if he managed to survive the war he most likely would have returned to that role, or something similar to it, within the Star Force Era’tran.”
“And what would he have said about this?” Rajamal asked, holding up the cube.
“That our primary obstacle was removing itself, exposing the two lessers.”
“Yet our primary enemy is leaving. It is they who issued the Deathmark upon us.”
“And it is the Oso’lon and J’gar that carried it out amongst their own ranks. Did you ever envision our limited forces overwhelming the Zak’de’ron?”
“I wanted to do more damage than we did,” he admitted, leaning back on a countertop as he stared at the message cube that he’d gone over 5 times in the past hour. “Now they’re going to be beyond our reach.”
“But the others are not.”
“It seems too fortuitous,” Rajamal admitted. “Our fight has been long and hard, and only the most bitter of us remain. The others have let go of the past to build a future in Star Force, and those foolish enough to do so beyond its territory are now dead. Our war never ended, but those inside Star Force were insulated from it. The Zak’de’ron would not strike them, and perhaps they finally saw the inevitability of that conflict and were unable to assume a less than dominant role in this galaxy.”
“That is what some of my sources told me.”
“But to have them all leave this galaxy and turn over their servants to Star Force…it sounds too good to be true, Theodral. It sounds like a trap.”
“That is why I made sure it was not before bringing it to you. Star Force has already assumed limited command of all their servant races. The Zak’de’ron ordered the transfer, so there was n
o need for combat. They simply transferred them, and are now deconstructing their worlds in preparation to leave.”
“Deconstructing?” Rajamal asked, not having read anything about that in his report.
“I could find no records of it, but I am told they do not intend to leave any trace of their existence in this galaxy for others to claim. It is said Itaru itself is being washed clean of all technology before it is turned over to Star Force.”
“That does sound more like the Zak’de’ron, rather than this capitulation.”
“Capitulation or relocation?” Theodral asked. “They are not actually surrendering, just cutting their garbage free and moving to a location beyond Star Force’s reach where they can rebuild.”
“And one day return?”
“Possibly, but that would be so far into the future it isn’t worth considering now. My point is, they are beaten, but not defeated. And soon they will be beyond our vengeance. Once they leave we must let our war with them disappear as well. But not with the others that remain.”
“I will never let it go, Theodral. Never. Not if they run through a thousand galaxies before crawling into a hole and hiding for all eternity. I will never forget or forgive the Deathmark they placed on us.”
“I meant in terms of future planning. Soon we will not need to consider them at all, and as such they will disappear from our lives and eventually our dreams unless they return, which is highly unlikely. We must focus on the vengeance before us. The vengeance we could not achieve while the Zak’de’ron protected them. The original V’kit’no’sat still exist in three. The primary is traveling beyond our reach. The other two are still here, broken and now unshielded. We have an opportunity, Rajamal.”