by Chris Fox
His dreadnoughts pivoted from the station to face the enemy, main cannons warming up to fire.
34
Feint
"Admiral, the enemy is warming up their guns," Juliard called from her terminal. Fizgig nodded, rising anxiously to her feet as she studied the enemy's tactical disposition.
"Order all vessels to cloak and disperse." She watched as, a moment later, her forces did exactly that.
Every ship moved to at least a hundred kilometers from its neighbors, all engaging the improved cloaking drives they'd been refitted with. One by one they winked out, the last disappearing even as the dreadnoughts began their barrage.
Scarlet beams sliced into the void, carving a path of destruction that found nothing to destroy. The beams passed harmlessly around them, the closest still forty kilometers away.
Fizgig gave faint, rumbling purr. "Any damage reports?" she asked, moving back to her chair. She sank gratefully into the mound of cushions, rubbing absently at her leg.
"Negative, sir." Juliard's tone was triumphant. "They didn't land a single shot."
"And the status on that dreadnought?" Fizgig gestured at the holo, which zoomed in on the wounded vessel.
"It's falling into the planet's gravity well, and Kay thinks it would take too long to repair her engines. There's no saving her, unless the other ships can somehow tow her out."
Fizgig was pleased. One of their massive warships was already out of the battle, though that still left eleven capital ships--not to mention the horde of smaller ones. She zoomed back out, studying the enemy's position. The battle would grow more difficult now that she'd sprung her initial trap.
How would this enemy commander react? Her previous encounters hadn't taught her enough, but her gut told her this Ganog was an impatient sort. He was used to quick victories, and she hoped that drawing him into a prolonged conflict would cause him to make mistakes.
"Sir, the enemy has turned their attention back to the station," Juliard announced. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. "Orders, sir?"
"Have the Void Wraith engage. Target their smaller vessels. Frigates, corvettes, and cruisers." Fizgig adjusted her posture, struggling to find a comfortable spot atop the mound of cushions. Her claws itched, and she wished she had access to her post.
Metallic blue vessels began decloaking, dozens in rapid succession. The sleek Void Wraith ships appeared in a rough wall between the Ganog and the station, but they quickly broke into smaller groups and began converging on enemy targets. They maneuvered closer, like wasps diving in to fight a larger spider.
Seeing the fleet of Void Wraith harvesters still tugged a shred of dread loose. She'd learned to fear these ships in the last war. They'd torn apart most of the Tigris fleet--and the humans had fared even worse.
Yet this time the Void Wraith worked for them, for now at least. Part of Fizgig understood Dryker's horror, his desire to throw away such a potent tool. The Void Wraith made wonderful shock troops, and spending their lives conserved that of her own forces.
"The Void Wraith are suffering heavy losses, sir," Juliard said, though Fizgig could see for herself.
Harvesters swarmed the enemy, but the enemy was ready. Their fighters harried the harvesters, and their capital ships picked off a dozen with another salvo from their main cannons. She counted a total of twenty harvesters disabled before they'd even really engaged their foes.
Unfortunately for the Ganog, that left eighty harvesters still firing. Blue energy crackled around the tip of each wing, pooling into a single ball of supercharged plasma. The harvesters flung those balls at their targets, a flurry rushing out into the enemy ranks.
The smaller ships were devastated, explosions blossoming all over the fleet as they detonated. A second wave of explosions began when wounded harvesters rammed their opponents. The cloud of debris thickened, slowly drifting toward the planet's gravity well.
Fizgig tensed as the Ganog fleet counterattacked. Another volley shot from the enemy's main guns, and the fighters had finally gotten within range to engage the remaining Harvesters.
"Sir, the Void Wraith are buckling." Juliard's voice wavered. "We're down to twenty-two active vessels."
Fizgig had expected the Void Wraith to fare better, but given the Ganog's superior technology she wasn't surprised. If they'd had time to outfit the Void Wraith with theta cannons this would have been a different fight, but right now the harvesters simply couldn't inflict enough damage to threaten the enemy's capital ships.
"Have the Void Wraith retreat, then regroup for another pass. Focus on any ship that has already suffered significant damage," Fizgig ordered.
She watched as the handful of Void Wraith zipped away from their opponents, each V-shaped ship flickering out of sight as they retreated behind the orbiting factory. She folded her paws in her lap, waiting patiently until the surviving ships returned.
The Void Wraith came around in another pass, suiciding into enemy vessels, one after another. Juliard turned to Fizgig. "Looks like we took out another fourteen smaller vessels, but the enemy still has over twenty cruisers, and eleven dreadnoughts."
"I can see that, Lieutenant," Fizgig snapped. She rose and stalked to the hologram, watching as the enemy fleet turned their attention back to the factory. It was too soon to allow them to destroy it, but neither did she want to risk her fleet in a direction confrontation. Not yet anyway. "What's the situation on the surface?"
35
Ground War
When he'd been a kid Edwards' father had beaten into him that he needed to find a way to live a good life. Unfortunately, dad had been maddeningly unspecific about what that meant, exactly.
Edwards had finally figured it out. Right now, he was living the good life. There'd been a time when he thought being a mech was cool, but controlling Rex was about seventy-two levels beyond awesome. Not only could they blow up much larger stuff, but he'd also made a friend. Maybe a best friend.
Sure, Rex wasn't much of a conversationalist, but he seemed to like hanging out with Edwards as much as Edwards enjoyed hanging out with him.
"Edwards, what's your status?" Juliard's voice came over the comm. Edwards had always had kind of a thing for Juliard, though he knew she'd never look twice at some dumb Marine. Now that he was a disembodied voice living in a cube it was even less likely he'd ever get her out on a date.
Eh, at least he had Rex.
"Uhh, looks like six--no, seven enemy planetstriders. They appeared about fifty clicks south, and are marching in this direction. Some of them look pretty nasty. Whoah, check out the one with whip arms. It's got, like, nine of 'em." Edwards zoomed in on that one, then panned back to look at the rest. "Doesn't look like they have any support with them, but I don't think they need it."
"Okay, the admiral wants you to stay alive as long as possible, while inflicting heavy damage," Juliard said. "Sounds a lot more fun than being up here."
"You ought to come down some time, Lieutenant. We could go for a joy ride," Edwards managed. He wasn't exactly asking her out.
"I'll take you up on that, if you can kill let's say...three of those enemy planetstriders," Juliard teased. "Good hunting, Sergeant."
"Oh, it's on. Rex, give us a battle cry."
The planetstrider stopped, its chest swelling as it sucked in a tremendous amount of air. A bellow like a deep horn rolled out over the city, shattering every window with miles. A couple of the enemy planetstriders didn't seem to much like it, and lurched into a run toward their position.
Rex was standing two clicks south of the factory, which sprawled around the base of the space elevator. The tallest buildings didn't quite reach the planetstrider's waist, so they weren't going to work as cover. Edwards turned the external camera toward the elevator itself.
"Yeah, that'll work." Edwards nudged Rex. "Hey big fella, keep that elevator between us and your pissed off buddies, all right?"
The planetstrider broke into a lumbering run, every gargantuan step crushing smaller buildings.
They circled the space elevator's thick cable, using it to shield Rex from the other planetstriders. Two were quick enough to re-establish line of sight, so Edwards paused and raised the cannon arm.
The first enemy planetstrider slowed, but it was too late. Edwards released a beam of scarlet, burning a thick, black scar in the planetstrider's chest. This strider looked like Rex, but was taller and had a pair of missile batteries mounted to his shoulders. Both batteries fired a swarm of missiles, but the planetstrider's balance was off and the shots zoomed into the sky over Rex.
The next enemy collided with the first, and both went down in a tangle of limbs. They crushed dozens of buildings, and Edwards was thankful the city had been evacuated. This was doing trillions of dollars in damage, but people could find new homes.
Edwards maneuvered the cannon into line with the the missile boat strider, then he fired. The barrel vibrated as scarlet energy built within, finally discharging in a sixty-meter-wide beam. It slammed into the missile launcher on the strider's first shoulder, punching through and into the second. Both detonated.
A wave of flame and debris enveloped both the planetstrider carrying the missiles and the buddy he was still lying on top of. Smoke and dust swept out for thousands of meters, whipping the debris into a hurricane that shredded those buildings still standing.
"Well, look at that. I think we actually killed one." The top planetstrider was missing everything above the shoulders. The one on the bottom was still moving, trying to wriggle its way out from under its dead buddy.
The other planetstriders were closing in, and his orders were clear. "Run away Rex, fast as you can. Get on the backside of that hill over there."
Rex lumbered into an awkward run, leaving a shattered city in his wake. Edwards still couldn't believe no one was going to yell at him for that. They'd said not to worry about blowing stuff up.
Any level of destruction is acceptable. The president had said that.
Rex's rear sensors showed the pack of planetstriders, most clustered around the body of their fallen companion. They weren't chasing him though.
"Hey, Lieutenant Juliard?" Edwards commed. "Rex and I managed to down one, and wound another. We're falling back until the rest of our boys get here."
"Acknowledged, Edwards. You still owe me two more planetstriders."
"Oh, don't you worry about that." Edwards watched the enemy planetstriders recede into the distance, knowing he and Rex could get back just as quickly. "You just let me know when Alpha Company advances, and we'll blow the shit out of those bastards."
36
The Beacon
Utfa was thankful for his voluminous robes, for they covered his fur. It had gone muddy yellow, streaked through with brown red--nervousness and the worst flavor of fear. He pulled his hood lower, stepping onto the broad disk to join his dozen best adepts.
He'd never been this nervous, but then never had this much been at stake. The next few minutes would determine his fate, the fate of the Kthul, and possibly the fate of all Ganog.
"Begin," he murmured, clutching his arcanotome to his chest as he stepped to the center of the platform. The adepts made way, bowing deferentially as the disk began to rise into the air. Three similar disks followed, each containing a cluster of his best warriors. They numbered fifty-six in all, a small but potent force.
Normally, it wouldn't be enough to attempt what he was now daring, but Zakanna had pulled her forces back to protect herself and her precious Adepts. She expected Utfa to come for her, and it wasn't a bad plan.
Zakanna's forces still outnumbered his own, but Utfa wasn't attacking her directly. Not until he'd found and activated the beacon. Then, if the dream fragment were true, he'd have access to the guardians. The arcanotome's oldest archives mentioned them, but were unclear about what that meant exactly. They did indicate that it was a sizable and nearly unstoppable army--one that would serve the controller of the beacon with absolute obedience.
The platforms continued to rise, and Utfa tensed as they passed the first of the empress's islands. Her cluster was large, and it took many seconds to pass. Only one island was still lit: the prime temple. Zakanna was readying herself for battle, her forces no doubt lurking inside the grove of spires.
Utfa looked up, giving a pleased smile as the apex island came into view. He'd only seen it a few times, and even then only on the twin holidays, when they refreshed the wards to keep the Imperium from the gaze of the Nameless Ones.
From below, the Apex island was deceptively unadorned, a simple ivory island that would have gone unremarked even at the lowest levels of the Royal Spire. Their disks came even with it, rising high enough to provide a look at the island itself. In the center of a grassy field, a titanic blue cube bobbed up and down. That cube blazed with a bonfire of white circuitry. The cube rotated slowly, thrumming with deep power. Around the cube knelt four adepts. Only four. Utfa smiled.
"Protect the Emissary." Oako called, removing his hood. He moved to the edge of the island, and the adepts lined up to follow him. Oako turned to face Utfa. "By your word, Emissary."
Utfa opened his lower nostrils and drank deeply. He lowered his hood, his fur now a placid brown. "Kill the adepts, then form a ring around the Beacon so that I may perform the will of the Nameless Ones."
Oako led the charge, the forces from the other disks joining the howling horde as they surged toward the cube. All four adepts leapt to their feet, moving smoothly to support each other. Seeing that grace slid tendrils of terror around Utfa's heart, especially when he saw the last of the adepts.
Master Yulo's snowy fur ruffled under the breeze as he glided into formation with his brothers. His gaze finally found Utfa, and his mouth tightened into a line. "Utfa, I see you lurking back there. Stop this madness. There is nothing to be gained for your here."
"Kill them swiftly!" Utfa roared.
Yulo's eyes hardened. He sprinted forward several steps, then leapt into the air. As he neared the apex of his jump, his body rippled and changed. He grew larger, almost the size of a full elite. His corded muscles thickened, and when he slammed back into the disk, cracks radiated out around him.
Utfa's warriors hesitated, fanning out to ring the defenders. Even Oako seemed reluctant to engage, and Utfa couldn't blame him. No one wanted to be the first to die.
Yulo adopted a comfortable combat stance, his companions standing back to back behind him. "We are sworn to protect this place, and you must know your numbers are meaningless. But before we cut you down, I must know. Why, Utfa? This place is sacred, even to the seekers. Why defile the Beacon?"
Utfa finally stepped from the transport disk. He began his breathing as he walked slowly forward, willing his cells to accelerate, and change. Power surge through him, strength, and speed, and grace. It had been a long time since Utfa had felt the flow, and he welcomed it now.
"I would never defile this place, Yulo. You of all people know me better than that. How many times did we debate the whispers together?" Utfa reached up to his temple, hesitating as his hand settled around the thick black cable. There was no other choice. He gave the cable a sharp twist, and yanked it from his temple.
The flow of data stopped, leaving his mind in troubling silence. Utfa set down his arcanotome, then removed his outer robe. He dropped the heavy black fabric atop his tome, turning to hear Yulo's answer.
"I see. You do not consider the murder of your former brothers a defilement. Is that it?" Yulo asked mildly, his fur remaining perfectly white.
Utfa strived to keep the envy from showing in his fur, but the best he could manage was a dirty grey. Yulo's pristine white made mockery of it.
"I do not. You and I shared many ideas together, but we never agreed on the most important. You seek to avoid the Nameless Ones, praying that their gaze will not find you. Knowing that someday, if you do not face their terrible wrath, your grandchildren will."
Yulo's face hardened, but the snowy white remained. "And you believe that we have a responsibility to our c
hildren, to accept the Nameless One's will, knowing that after we have enacted it they will once again journey into the cold. Yes, we've had this argument many times before. What is different now, Utfa?"
"I prayed, and the Nameless Ones answered. I have spoken to one, and learned its will. The day we debated has arrived, brother. The Nameless Ones have returned, and their gaze lands upon Imperalis. It lands upon you." Utfa adopted a combat stance nearly identical to Yulo's.
"Once, you were my equal, but that day is a hazy memory. You turned away from your body, away from unity. The arcanotome has been a part of you for too long. Even now, its dark knowledge twists you. If you seek to battle me, you will die." Yulo stalked back and forth, moving with disquieting grace. His mind and body were truly one, something Utfa had never achieved.
"If I battled you alone, I have no doubt you'd be correct. Kill him," Utfa roared. He sprinted forward, deepening his breathing. His body grew denser, his muscles bulging to compensate. He wasn't as impressive as Yulo, but it would be enough.
Utfa launched a flying kick at Yulo, a kick the master easily parried. But it didn't matter. The battle had begun, and now that every seeker knew they weren't the focus of Yulo's rage they were willing to join it.
They surged forward in a wave, crashing over the adepts. Yulo batted aside a seeker, then shattered a warrior's face with his knee. The other adepts were nearly as skilled, each felling multiple opponents. Then Oako planted his axe in Kokru's chest, driving the adept to the grass. His blade crackled and hummed as he forced it deeper into the adept's body. The adept twitched once, then was still.