by James Thomas
“Shields?” asked Captain Strata.
“Most of their shields are down,” replied the TAC-O. “They’re ancient and weren’t up to the job.”
“COM, open a channel to Commodore Devlin,” ordered Captain Strata.
“Open Sir,” answered the COM Officer.
“Commodore, what’s your Task Force’s status for jumping?” requested Captain Strata.
“Captain,” replied Commodore Devlin in a weak voice. “Our shields are down. The engines are offline, and the radiation from the flares is across the spectrum. It’s fatal.” He coughed deeply several times over the channel with labored breaths afterward. “Seventy-seven ships have reported the same. Sorry, Captain, it’s hopeless. Everyone is affected!”
ISF Asteria shields provided Captain Strata’s ship with short term protection from the gamma rays. In contrast, the ancient transport ships had only their ships’ skins for defense. The delay caused by Admiral Pearson’s arrival was making the situation worse since the gamma rays had more time to penetrate their ships.
Captain Strata was not sure if the Admiral knew what he had caused or if he had intended it. With all the data passed, there should not have been any doubt of the damage a delay in hyperjump would generate. “Don,” said Captain Strata, is there anything I can do? Can we assist with any ships?”
“Cap . . . tain,” said Commodore Delvin. “Hopeless . . . but thanks,” were his last words before the transmission died. The communication stopped as the power and life support systems failed.
The incoming weapon fired and pounded the starboard side off the ISF Asteria.
“TAC-O,” said Captain Strata. “I thought it was only one vessel from the Grax.”
“Sir, that’s not theirs,” replied the TAC-O. “It’s the Admiral’s Fleet.”
One by one, Admiral Pearson’s ships fired their first salvo, as his ships’ cloaking failed, along with their weapons systems.
“That should buy us some time,” said Captain Strata.
“Sir, I don’t think all the admiral’s ships were firing. You see, the pattern is a standard offensive layout, but if you look here and here at the time of firing, ships are missing. Probably cloaked,” pointed out the TAC-O on his tactical screen.
“Yes, you’re right. Some have remained neutral, not wanting to fire on their own comrades,” said Captain Strata.
“Quick, what’s our shield status?” asked Captain Strata.
“Sir, sixty-six percent and dropping,” replied the TAC-O.
“Transfer fifty percent of our power from our weapons to our shields. Quickly, before they get their weapons back online,” ordered Captain Strata. “And open a COM channel to the admiral. Make sure it’s heard by all of his fleet on an open and unsecured channel.”
“Sir, and the Grax?” asked the TAC-O. “Their weapon seems to be still powering up.”
“Confirm that they have a clear line to the admiral and send them his coordinates just in case. I don’t think he will stand down, but the others might like we did. Now, open the COM,” said Captain Strata, “before it’s too late for everyone here.”
“Opened,” replied the COM Officer with a smirk on her face. The captain was risking it all in a move that left his ship stuck in the middle, between the Grax, Commodore’s Devlin’s Task Force, and the admiral’s fleet, with the Huldra’s star to his back. He had no room to maneuver, and if the Grax fired on him first, he would be star dust. Captain Strata had seen what the last fission weapon did, and his ship was three times smaller.
“Admiral Pearson,” said Captain Strata. “You have fired on your own ship. Stop immediately. Friendly fire!”
It was the same glitch the ISF Asteria had experience during their battle with the Grax. But, once the Admiral had figured out how to bypass the cloak relay directly to their armament systems, he would have his weapons back online to continue the attack. Captain Strata had encountered the same problem and figured out the solution.
Commodore Devlin’s mole’s sabotage disabled the cloak and weapons systems if a ship fired. This would allow their location to be known. However, if the system was bypassed at the core, their weapons would be back online, but not the cloak. Captain Strata had not seen this when he intercepted Commodore Devlin, since he had not fired on him, so the problem was not discovered. However, once the Grax attacked during the rescue, the problem surfaced.
“Captain Strata, no quarters will be given to traitors,” said Admiral Pearson.
“We’re no traitors, sir,” replied Captain Strata.
“You’re aiding traitors,” answered the admiral. “Passing my coordinates to the enemy, too!”
“Okay then, Admiral Pearson, I surrender my ship and all onboard unconditionally,” declared Captain Strata.
“No mercy will be given,” repeated the admiral before jamming the communication channel.
“TAC-O,” said Captain Strata, “do not fire on the command ship, no matter what. All power to our shields. Minimum life support. And get me an open channel that he can’t jam!”
The COM Officer changed the modulation and added a random shifting frequency. “Captain, COM opened. I’m not sure how long it will last.”
“All vessels, this Captain Strata of ISF Asteria. I have surrendered my ship and pose no threat to you. All Tourian ships are full of refugees. I ask you to not fire upon them. The refugees onboard need medical care. Their ships are dead in Space because of the gamma rays.” Captain Strata singled the COM Officer to close the channel.
“Com, prepared to open the communication channel again,” said Captain Strata.
“Ready, Captain,” said the COM Officer.
“Roger, wait for my signal,” commanded Captain Strata.
“Admiral, our weapons are back online,” his TAC-O. “Orders sir?”
“Open fire on that Traitor’s ship and pass to my fleet to destroy the Tourian vessels,” ordered Admiral Pearson.
“Admiral, but he surrendered. The Tourian ships are of no harm,” stated his COM Officer who overheard the order. “Shouldn’t we focus on the Grax ship?”
“You have my order! Now execute, unless you are also a traitor!” yelled Admiral Pearson. “The Grax will do me a favor and target the closest ship to them. Then we will destroy them.”
The COM Officer did not answer the admiral, but made transmission, so the Admiral assumed he got the message loud and clear. He was the hero here and had only needed to clean up these loose ends. The winner writes history, and he was going to make sure it was his pen.
The first shots missed ISF Asteria, passing across the bow of the ship. Admiral Pearson’s ship was the only vessel firing, while the rest of his fleet guns remained silent.
“Wait for it,” said Captain Strata to his COM Officer, who was more than ready to open the communication channel. The ship was buffeted from the hits received by the admiral’s ship, making it hard for the COM Officer to keep her finger at the ready to press the button.
“Wait for it!” said Captain Strata. He remained calm as his ship took a pounding.
“Weapons officer, shield status?” requested Captain Strata.
“Fifty percent and falling rapidly,” answered the weapons officer.
“Now Com, open the channel,” ordered Captain Strata.
The COM Officer nodded in confirmation.
“All ISF ships, this is Captain Strata of the ISF Asteria. Under ISF Regulation 106 of command relief, Admiral Pearson, I relieve you of command due to war crimes. All commanders, I assume command of the fleet. Acknowledge this transmission.”
However, Admiral Pearson’s battle group remained silent.
“Com, did they receive my message?” asked Captain Strata.
“Yes, sir. Loud and clear,” replied the COM Officer. “There,” he pointed. “Several ships have decloaked, but no response, sir,”
“Captain, forty percent and falling. We won’t last long at this rate,” reported the weapons officer.
“Roger, have al
l unnecessary crew prepare to abandon ship,” ordered Captain Strata. He was doubting his plan, and that was before considering what one shot from the Grax fission weapon would do if he was the intended target. It was like being in the middle of a target range, hoping that no one would fire at him, with targets behind him. To the Grax, ISF was ISF.
Captain Strata needed to get the out of the firing line, which had become blurred. “Send a message on an open COMs channel. We do not wish to fire on the Grax ship,” said Captain Strata before adding, “and that we come in peace. Make sure they understand that the command ship is not with us. Surely they can see them shooting at us?”
“Captain, I can’t confirm if Admiral Pearson’s fleet has changed over to under your command, nor guarantee the Grax won’t fire on us. I recommend we target and destroy the Grax ship and return fire on the admiral’s ship,” said the TAC-O.
“No! It’s a chance we must take,” replied Captain Strata. He was not leaving the Tourians to this fate. No way, it was not right. Commodore Devlin, if he still survived, would know what Captain Strata was trying to do tactically. Yes, thought Captain Strata to himself, he was positive that Commodore Devlin would understand.
“This war is over,” said Captain Strata in a commanding voice. His crew was surprised by the abruptness of the comment.
“Captain, the Grax fission weapon has reached a steady state. It’s ready to fire,” said his weapon officer.
“Hold your fire,” replied Captain Strata as he held his breath.
“Captain! We have acknowledgment!” blurted his COM Officer. He took a breath to calm down, then clarified his statement, saying, “I mean all ships, except the admiral’s vessel, have acknowledged your command. Obviously, he’s still firing on us. Should we have them fire upon him?”
“No,” replied Captain Strata. “Send a message on the open channel that acknowledges we’ve received their answer and tell them not to fire on our own people. This war is over.”
The response to the message transmission was quick. A blinding light filled the ISF Maiden screen, rocking the ship. Split in half, the ship’s compartments ripped away from each other.
Admiral Pearson lay in the corner as two officers helped him up. His bridge was in ruins. Sparks of hot metal wires flowed down from the ceiling like a waterfall.
“What hit us?” asked Admiral Pearson in a shaken voice.
“Admiral, it was from the Grax ship,” replied his TAC-O. “The one ship who you ignored, sir.”
“Status of our systems,” shouted Admiral Pearson over the sound of his vessel’s compartments popping outward as air vented to Space, one after another.
“Sir, we’re done. We need to abandon ship,” said the Damage Officer.
“I’m not leaving my ship,” insisted the admiral.
“Sir, the Grax are charging their weapon again,” said his TAC-O who had remained at his station.
“Tell the fleet to destroy that ship, screamed Admiral Pearson.
“Sir, they have abandoned us,” replied the TAC-O. “You’re no longer in command of the fleet.”
The Admiral turned to look around the bridge. His entire crew had run off the bridge; only the TAC-O remained. On the viewing screens, escape pods from his crew could be seen popping from all sides ship—hundreds of them. Admiral Pearson sat back in his chair. A portion of his ship that had been split in half was coming back around, hinged on the bow. The bridge had only survived due to the Grax’s off-center shot.
“Sir, we need to abandon ship,” said the TAC-O. But the admiral just sat there and watched the right half of his ship closed in on him. He did not even answer the TAC-O. Instead, he closed his eyes as the two halves crashed together.
“Captain Strata, it’s worked,” cheered his TAC-O.
“We’re not clear yet. Sir, the Grax are charging their weapon again. They have locked onto us and we are down to life support only. We can’t defend,” said the weapons officer.
“Uh, sir. Captain Strata,” said a short and skinny officer from the side of the bridge. She was a civilian scientist who had been examining the star.
“Yes, speak up,” said Captain Strata.
“That shot! You know the one that took out the ship,” said the scientist.
“Yes, get it all out,” replied Captain Strata.
“Well, the star behind was in alignment, so it, uh, also hit, well, the star. And that’s not good. It’s going to explode,” said the scientist.
“How long?” asked Captain Strata.
“Uh, we don’t have time to get a dinner, if you ask me.”
***
Vi Ryant stepped onto the bridge at the request of her brother, who seemed emboldened by her current situation. She had been defeated by the ISF a second time at their home planet and now more ships were on her doorstep. She had failed her people again and her brother recognized her weakened state as an opportunity to make a power move. He was not about to waste any time.
Behind Vi Ryant followed a guard detail of ten loyal guards armed with both weapons and ceremonial swords. They did not waiver with their commitment to her, and Si Ryant was taken back at the sight of the full detail. Usually, she only had four at her side. Her response to his actions was warranted.
“What do you bother me with now?” questioned Vi Ryant.
To Si’s side stood her council of six, normally spread out among other ships, Now they were all together a sign that her brother was attempting a coup d’état, yet they stood silent. Time was on her side and she was not going to waste it.
Around the bridge, the crew and the council wore shielded glasses, but before Vi Ryant could speak, her brother spoke first. “You asked for a solution, my sister, to our continued defeats,” spoke Si Ryant without using her title of Supreme Leader. The crew of the bridge stopped what they were doing. “I give you one now. Fire!” ordered Si Ryant.
Vi Ryant felt no shot to her body by a weapon, but instead the bridge filled with a blinding white light, leaving her sightless. The blast from the beam hit ISF Maiden off-center of its bow, splitting it in half with one shot. It was only connected at one hinging point. The weapon’s blast went through the entire ship and continued, hitting Huldra’s star.
“Recharge the weapon,” ordered Si Ryant. “Lock onto the ISF ship that attacked us earlier. It’s time to even the odds, don’t you say, my sister!”
Vi Ryant’s hands partially covered her eyes as she tried to focus both physically and mentally on what had just happened. She and her guards had just been blindsided, to say it mildly. Her eyesight returned to a blurry view of an ISF command ship exploding, with one half folded back on itself.
The star was now shooting solar flares one after another, in quick succession. The fission weapon had damaged the star. “You idiot!” exclaimed Vi Ryant. “You hit our star. You know what that means!”
“My sister, it was done anyways. We still have time for a few more shots to get revenge and vacate this doomed planet. Bandor awaits us, and with our fission weapon, they don’t stand a chance,” said Si Ryant.
Si Ryant was overjoyed by the results of his actions, but when he looked at the council for their approval, he instead saw shock. Si had miscalculated their connection to their home’s star. It had been their lifeline to the planet and now there was no chance to fix it. The Space station had been intended to house the Grax while their planet died, but the fission weapon was meant to be a charger for the star. When it was weaponized and miniaturized, the results were reversed, destroying the star’s remaining fuel.
“Guards, arrest him,” said Vi Ryant. “It’s over.”
“It’s not over,” yelled Si Ryant as he looked for a way out. “Your weakness is your downfall. I’m the only chance our people have.” He looked at the council, but one by one, they turned away.
The guards grabbed him, dragging him forward.
“Release me and arrest my sister. I’m the true Supreme Leader,” screamed Si Ryant.
Vi Ryant waved her ha
nd, and the guards muffled Si’s mouth. “Off the bridge with him,” ordered Vi Ryant. “And stop that weapon from charging.”
“Ma’am, the fission weapon is malfunctioning due to dampeners failing to maintain the core’s magnetic field. We can’t shut it down. The system will auto-eject the core after firing again,” said her chief engineer.
“Change the trajectory. So it misses the star this time. And that ship,” ordered Vi Ryant.
“Ma’am, we cannot control the weapon. It’s on lockdown until the core is ejected,” replied the chief engineer.
She sighed openly in front of the crew. The view in front of her vessel was an odd sight. ISF ships that had acted as Tourian transports had fired upon each other and now lay disabled. She had never planned for so much loss of life, or to imprison the Tourians. Her brother has convinced her it was right. Now, nothing could take it back and she had to live with it. However, she still had one slight chance to save her people and help the Tourians.
Her attention turned to her planet’s star. Hundreds of solar flares originating from the star shot out in all directions. The light of the star was dimming. Her brother has ended it all for revenge. The fission weapon had killed the star and it was changing to a Black Dwarf at an incredible speed.
“Eject the core now,” said Vi Ryant. “Computer, override Protocol Si.”
“Ma’am, how did you do that?” asked the chief scientist.
“Sometimes family just can’t be trusted,” she replied. “I made sure I had overrides for anything my brother had his hands on. I just never had the courage to use it before.”
“Supreme Leader, the radiation levels are increasing beyond our shield’s capability,” the chief Scientist.
Vi Ryant could feel the radiation breaking through the shields as she became weak and nauseous.
“Computer, eject the core,” commanded Vi Ryant. Then she turned to her COM Officer, adding, “Send a message to the ISF that we want peace, too, and that we will eject our power core to stop the weapon from firing again as proof. Then ask for their assistance so we can save at least some of our people.”