A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  "What's your name, Lieutenant?"

  Vibrations carried through the floor as legs pounded with intention. "Bzbob," came the reply. Most of Krelp names were based on vibrations. The translator could only facilitate so well. Ryan motioned him to view the globe, showing the tactical display of the area around Meghellan.

  "I understand the Krelps are from this region. Are you familiar with the celestial formations in this quadrant Bzbob?"

  "I am... There are white areas," he pointed with a tentacle.

  Ryan moved the positioning image until Bzbob nodded.

  "White areas?”

  Ryan scanned the Par for the translation. Empty space, the absence of all matter, tiny imperfections in the distribution of the universe. The absence of all matter, including the quintessential matrix of dark matter. If anything entered such an area, it would be absorbed to “fill in” the hole as it were. To an outside observer, the approaching matter would simply disappear, literally evaporate.

  “You mean empty space?”

  "Yes. One must not approach empty space."

  "Bzbob, do you know where these white areas are?"

  "The Xi-Empire know few. We know more."

  "Where are they?"

  "The locations are difficult."

  Ryan surmised the meaning. The alien could only provide an approximate location.

  "Could you plug in the coordinates of every known white area into the tactical?" He motioned to the other two navigation officers to review the regions with Bzbob.

  Kanook watched them curiously, "Commander, what do you have in mind?"

  "Just taking advantage of every scrap of information we can collect, Kanook. When you have quicksand in a desert, it is good to know where it lies."

  "Com, pass on the new data to the Nubok ships, have them modify their tracing resonance to verify these areas and get solid coordinates. When we get close enough and open a channel to every ship's captain. We're going to review a new battle plan."

  He turned his attention to the monitors. “I’m intending to take advantage of this civil war, by altering the numbers in favor of the Purists. By taking out a portion of this Zigot League’s Fleet, we will ensure the Purists win this conflict. We will ensure they begin the process of cutting their way through to Xilo and we will be following them all the way in.

  I know that the Purists are not about to attack Meghellan with the fleet parked in orbit. They will do what I would do. They will wait for the fleet to break from the base and start their patrols. If the League fleet behaves as per our previous intelligence, they’ll break into three patrol divisions. We will destroy the 3rd division.”

  When the Purists hit Meghellan, we will move on the League Patrol 3rd division. We will utilize our knowledge of this area, including these pockets of empty space and we will destroy this division.

  “And what of the Purists?” asked McClary.

  “They will have their hands full with the other two divisions.”

  "This plan will work, Commander, provided they do not know where these empty space regions exist,” stated General Lortay.

  "Agreed, but I'm sure that even if they do know about some, they won't know the exact location and shape of everyone in this region. I understand that this empty space is a dynamic phenomenon, always changing. They will have to alter the resonance on their tracing scanners, which means they'll lose long-range focus. I doubt they'll want to risk that."

  “It will work for the first ship at least,” volunteered McClary.

  “They may be five or size times or size, but I am confident we will cut them down quick enough. There's more to this plan yet. I'm hedging a bet that they’ll break off engagement once they figured out that we can hurt them. They’ll try to get back to Meghellan. That’s when we'll hit them again with part of our fleet that will be positioned for their retreat."

  The generals nodded in agreement. The plan was solid enough, even considering the size of the fleet they were about to take on.

  “General Lortay, take three squadrons. You’re the fox in waiting.”

  “So we dispatch our Nubok scouts to Meghellan and track this patrol.”

  * * *

  The Galactic Alliance knew of the Zigot League patrol far in advance. As expected, the massive League fleet broke into three divisions. The third division was on its way as expected. Nubok scouts had picked up their tracings and constantly relayed the activity back to the Freedom.

  The Galactic Alliance fleet accelerated to intercept. They weren’t hiding this time. When the patrol responded to intercept the fleet everyone knew they were committed.

  It was time.

  The Commander had a channel open to every ship. He had one last moment to address them, and he took it. "In a few moments, the true test of our strength will begin. The enemy is not only out there, but also within our minds and within our hearts. Be brave, live free, die free!"

  Ryan closed off the com link. His mouth was dry, his teeth tasted like metal. His officers returned to their tasks, silently, each mind contemplating… something. What they thought, he could only guess - fear they would die today or elation they could exact revenge? He could only hope that those who needed his words found strength in them.

  The tactical was a cornucopia of colors. Ships constantly repositioned themselves as the Xi-League patrol bore down upon them.

  A wisp of a fragrance turned his head. Aviore was there, dressed in full combat gear. Her face was pale.

  But she was stunning.

  Ryan diverted his attention back to the tactical. Time seemed to crawl.

  Then the thunder began. It rolled with the might of a million troops marching in unison. The powerful cannon fired time and time again. Targets winked out of existence. The weapons crew was becoming dangerously adept.

  "Engage all shield plating," Ryan ordered. "Full decompression alert for all decks."

  Thousands of non-combatants scrambled to their assigned quarters sealing their hatches, others working in the more dangerous outer hull, such as the gunners, screwed on the helmets of their suits.

  "In range in T-minus 1 minute," reported Kanook.

  10..9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..1.

  The fleet was hit by a savage volley. Missiles cleaved their way through shields and into ships hulls. But the state of the battle was already changing. New tactics were being employed. The Galactic Alliance rebels remembered their training. Ships began concentrating their fire on shared targets. Vessels rotated, swarmed and moved off in unison. It was a long distance death dance, with each drilling holes into their enemy. As League ships drew in close, where the wide expanse of space shrunk to mere kilometers, dormant Alliance missiles sat ready for activation.

  Another wave of destruction as League ships faltered and crumpled into floating derelicts.

  Then they were within the maelstrom. In what seemed like seconds, the majority of the fleet had passed completely through the patrol, dispersing missiles in their wake. Squadrons pulled together into formation and they began their second phase of the battle.

  But the League patrol was struggling to regain formation, attempting to adjust to heavy losses.

  The Alliance maintained deceleration, then reversed direction. The exchange continued. The Freedom rocked as the helm officers poured over their controls. Power reserves were getting dangerously low. Engineers diverted power from all non-critical systems. Gravity plates fluctuated each time a cannon blasted, bringing with it sickening waves of weightlessness on deck. The engineering crews labored to keep the auxiliary fusion generators online under the chaotic conditions. The new shield generators had been installed at Xeronia as a proactive measure to counter the excessive power drain of the tremendous ship during combat. But the work had been completed quickly and design compromises had been made.

  Kanook moved around the bridge barking out orders in all directions. Ryan remained at the tactical advising the navigation teams. They diverted direction, feinting retreat, the League patrol, familiar with
a fleeing enemy, pursued with a regained confidence. And they were all closing in on an area of empty space. Trajectories were adjusted, calculations made, vectors downloaded into helm control. At the last possible moment, the Alliance ships flipped on their axis and jumped off their original trajectories.

  The League ships attempted to follow, but their acceleration was greater, precious moments lost. The first of the League ships hit empty space, and then promptly vaporized, literally ripped apart molecule by molecule. Two others disappeared before the Zigot League captains were able to react to the new hazard. Many of them managed to maneuver around the deadly area. A few ships collided in their desperate unorganized attempt to veer to safety. The Alliance captains took advantage of their confusion. They moved in again, this time sweeping away ships in a single pass with a merciless barrage of cannon. In seconds what was left of the League patrol was now cut in half.

  The Zigot Commanders reorganized into a tighter formation, but a number of rogue captains broke away, attempting their own attacks, and in the process exposed themselves and others to be destroyed.

  Ryan watched with grim satisfaction as they struggled to pull together.

  He ordered a star dispersal. Concentrated fire would have no effect on a sparsely grouped number of ships. Each point of the star looped around, changing direction, heading back inwards toward the enemy. One by one, each group moved in on evasive attack formation, blasting in at the Zigot fleet, destroying ship after ship. He watched the orchestra of battle, pleased with his captains and crews. They had learned their lessons well, and in an incredibly short period of time.

  A Nubok reported in, demanding the Commander's attention. The Purists were attacking Meghellan base, as expected.

  The tactical revealed that the League patrol was in considerable trouble now. The Alliance ships were in position to crush them in one furious onslaught. But Ryan called off the attack, much to the surprise of others. His captains complied, although reluctantly.

  They watched as the League ships retreated, sharing a quiet moment of amusement. Things were falling into place. Repair teams scrambled, and rescue operations commenced. They had lost 12 ships in all.

  That was 12 too many.

  Lortay’s group hit the retreating patrol a few minutes later. The engagement was quick, yet devastating and precise, tearing the enemy into floating wreckage. It provided the incentive needed for what was left of the fleet to race back to base.

  The Purists were experiencing a healthy resistance from the Meghellan base cannon arrays. The surface cannon were incredibly powerful, inflicting heavy damage to the attacking fleet.

  The fireworks started in earnest with the arrival of what remained of the League patrol. It gave the impression the Purists had been over-confident in their planning. As a result, they suffered heavy losses taking back control of a base they had once already defeated.

  The original strategy of the Purists was the sign of a devious mind. Ryan had studied the Xi-Empire battles too long now not to know who their Commander must be. His amusement escalated to a full-fledged laugh.

  Zorlog had paid dearly for this victory.

  “Commander, do we attack? Commander?”

  Kanook brought him back. His look of perplexed annoyance was clear on his face.

  “No, not yet. Far too many of them swarming that base. I’m estimating the count in the tens of thousands.”

  “Would be suicide, but we would take many of them with us.”

  Ryan chuckled. “Appreciate your eagerness, but they still have the numbers. No, we have to deploy rescue teams, and coordinate boarding parties to hit any of these League ships we can reclaim. They have a much bigger battle to fight, yet. We can afford to wait.”

  The Galactic Alliance fleet pulled back from Meghellan, taking what remnants of useful vessels they had seized with them. Their refuge was within a nebulous cloud, the very same that the Purists fleet had utilized to avoid League detection. Ryan was careful to disperse the fleet over a wide area and move slowly.

  The waiting resumed.

  * * *

  Zorlog was puzzled.

  The League patrol had returned, at two-thirds their expected strength. Some of their ships had shown signs of a recent battle, something that he'd never expected from a prominent fleet so close to Xilo. That fleet had been attacked, that much was certain. The question was, who had they encountered?

  He pulled together a squadron, leaving the majority of the fleet to sack the remains of the base. It was time to investigate.

  They followed the course from which the Zigot patrol had returned, moving cautiously, watching for the tell-tale signs of an enemy in waiting. Precious time passed as the tracing officers scoured the area for evidence of engagement. They found it - remnants of ships, destroyed and scattered - the refuse of war.

  They made a full sweep of the area. It did not take long before one of them found the area of empty space. The Purist ship and its small crew simply disappearing off the sensors as it disintegrated. Immediately, Zorlog ordered the squadron to a full stop. He had seen this phenomenon before. Probes were deployed and tracing scanners modified to ascertain the dimensions of the region. They pulled the constellation archives – this area had been sectioned off to all traffic due to these anomalies. He paced the deck, putting together facts as the reports rolled onto the bridge.

  Scant energy trails uncovered, somewhat loosely, the original course of the ships. Parts of the puzzle fell into place. He knew what had happened. A third party had attacked the Zigot fleet, then retreated to use this empty space to their strategic advantage. It had worked all too well. How many vessels had perished here? One could only guess.

  “My Karvok, we can confirm the fleet broke into three divisions,” interrupted Charvok Gulin. “The one division did not return – at least not fully intact.”

  “Helm, over there, bring us adjacent to that ship.”

  The cruiser Kerbetz eased through the wreckage to stop at the burned out remains of a destroyer’s hull.

  “What is it you think could do that to a class-3 destroyer, Gulin?”

  His Charvok inspected the remains for a moment before replying. “Whatever hit this was far more powerful than our cannon, my Karvok.”

  “Yes, that is impressive,” he laughed. “But we do not know who deserves the credit, do we? Let us leave a surprise for them on Meghellan.”

  These are not the slave rebels. They could not have attained enough ships. This must be a new race. A new enemy to contend with…

  Gulin interrupted his train of thought. They had found some life signs on a wrecked ship. Zorlog ordered the change of course, then personally fired the blast that obliterated the remainder of the ship. He enjoyed the surge of power. His hate for Txtian blood clouded over him, obsessed him. He ordered the squadron back into formation and turned around. This new enemy would have to wait.

  The squadron rejoined the almost twenty thousand strong Purist fleet at Meghellan. With Zorlog's cruiser in the lead, the mass of war vessels resumed course - toward the capital planet of the Xi-Empire.

  * * *

  On board the Freedom, Ryan monitored the Purist fleet with interest.

  He had seen the small squadron backtrack and was sure Zorlog knew of them now. But that couldn't be helped.

  As expected the squadron had turned about and rejoined the Purist fleet. They had a more important agenda to follow, and they were a mere distraction.

  The massive fleet soon mobilized, abandoning the carcass of Meghellan, and disappeared into the heart of the quadrant. Ryan ran a trajectory projection. Straight to Xilo. Zorlog’s intentions were clear now.

  It would not be an easy trip for them. Squadrons of League ships and perimeter stations barred their way. It would be months before they reached Xilo - if they reached it at all.

  He turned his attention to back to his visitors. Alliance generals and captains stood with him on the elevated deck, everyone watching the holographic tactical, whispering qu
ietly amongst themselves.

  "What do you plan to do now?" asked McClary.

  "Like I said - they're our way in. We follow their wake, staying out of tracing range. The Purists will punch a hole in the Xilo defenses for us. We'll even help if we can, by taking out any League ships trying to outflank them. We will either usher them all to Xilo or terminate them."

  "So that is why we helped out those scum-sucking Purists?" exclaimed McClary. "It is little wonder that you are the Commander, my boy, as I would not have the metal to make this call."

  Ryan surveyed the group, consisting of a large portion of the top brass of the Alliance. He addressed them with a sober tone. "There is a weapon that was created by the Xeronians. It is capable of causing a sun to go supernova. It is, essentially, the perfect bomb. If one of those weapons were to be launched into the Xilo sun, everything around it within at least a ten-billion kilometer radius would be obliterated. A number of Nubok ships are being re-fitted with this weapon as we speak, including my ship, the Dancing Queen.”

  The group shuffled about, taking a moment to soak in the news.

  “So, you may have already have guessed our end game. The focus of our efforts will be to centralize all the Xi-Empire's arsenal at Xilo. That means getting every ship they own into that system. The next few weeks will be critical. This fleet will disperse into five main groups. Each one of these divisions will be responsible for obliterating any Xi-Empire presence outside of the Xilo system. If you can’t manage to kill them, at least scare them back home.

  I estimate, on the outside, we are roughly six weeks from Xilo, but the Purists, I expect, will need more time than that. I expect they will be securing each base and each planet as they traverse this corridor. That's barely enough time for us though, as we need to literally circumvent the quadrant, move in and pull the envelope even tighter."

  "Why think you, that all Xi-Empire war vessels move to Xilo?"

  The question came from a familiar Brog - General Gor. He towered above all of them. His voice reverberated throughout the open bridge.

  "That Purist fleet out there is the why. As they move closer, any and all Zigot patrols will be recalled as reinforcements. That will mean the majority of the Xi-Empire warships will have to abandon their posts and head home.”