by Aer-ki Jyr
Same went for the pilots and gunners on all the drones. Paul wasn’t telling them where to shoot each time, but he would tag targets with priorities and they would work out amongst themselves how best to attack each one, when, and where. Paul could pick out an individual gunner and even remote control their turret if he wanted, or he could give them specific orders that their Captain or Admiral did not. The entire battlemap control system made him a god on the battlefield, and whenever a trailblazer or other highly ranked naval Archon was involved the entire fleet performed better, but even Paul couldn’t have fought this V’kit’no’sat fleet on his own. His mind wasn’t powerful enough for that, and it was the fact that his fleet contained thousands of skilled individuals that he was able to guide and organize that was the key to their lethal naval power.
They would all do their part. Paul’s was to keep adjusting strategy to whatever the V’kit’no’sat did…while they were also trying to adjust to him. He didn’t need to know who their commanders were to face them, for he was engaged in a massive chess game that said more about their identities than anything else.
But they were not quite a united fleet. Each race operated semi-independently and while they could work seamlessly together they more often than not split up objectives amongst themselves. This scale of a fight, though, was more of a brawl that looked so chaotic that no one could straighten it all out.
That was an illusion, however, for Paul had fought enemies that operated naval combat that way…and cut them into pieces with ease. A controlling mind overseeing and guiding a mass of ships like this was necessary for higher level naval combat, and it was an advantage that both Star Force and the V’kit’no’sat had over other civilizations and races in the galaxy. And in a fight like this it was a prerequisite, for Star Force was still an infant compared to the V’kit’no’sat who had been dominating the inner galaxy for millions of years.
But that dominance was also a disadvantage in that they only adjusted to the enemy in the rare circumstances where they found themselves, often temporarily, to be inferior. They almost always dictated the flow of battle, but Star Force had been born of their legacy and with knowledge of their strategies, tactics, and technology. Paul had spent almost every year of his life either preparing to fight them or actually doing so and had helped the other trailblazers design a navy specifically for that purpose.
The key, he’d learned, was flexibility and not giving the V’kit’no’sat the fight they wanted. They had a bit of an ego that could be manipulated at times, but otherwise they were the most deadly and formidable opponent known in the galaxy. Paul hated them for what they’d done, but there was always a necessary level of respect for their skills and capabilities. Without that they’d adapt to you and reassert their dominance in unexpected ways.
Acknowledge the threat for what it was, learn from them, and continually try to look for geographical advantages and you could effectively fight them, but Paul knew better than anyone there was no quick or easy way to beat the V’kit’no’sat. They were like fighting a hurricane where your first and foremost priority was simply surviving.
But this time Paul did have an advantage in geography, for he had the star blockaded and the V’kit’no’sat had to bring in ships gradually. One couldn’t shove a fleet of that magnitude along a jumpline simultaneously, for it was like a navigation chokepoint that if guarded held great opportunity or peril, depending on your point of view…and all of which occurred in the vacuum of space.
Right now Paul had them on the defensive and was racking up ship kills mightily, but his advantage was thinning with every additional ship to arrive. They hadn’t all come in together, rather in separate groups. It was a tactic he’d encountered before to make you think that their entire fleet had arrived so you would abandon your ambush positions as the ships already present lured you away so the next group could arrive unchallenged and easily flank you.
That was why Paul didn’t know if more ships were coming or not, but he was keeping the V’kit’no’sat bottled up around the jumppoint and forcing them back against another invisible wall in the vacuum of space. For if they fled the opposite way they could potentially collide with any ships on their way into the system.
He didn’t know if there were more coming or if the V’kit’no’sat simply wanted to fight here because Paul’s fleet was here, but none of them had broken off to head for the besieged planet or anywhere else in the system. The only maneuvering involved was between the front and the rear of the battlefield which saw ships moving around like schools of fish, some darting in to do damage then swimming away before they could be killed so they could recharge their shields and head back in again later.
Paul had been involved in prolonged battles that had taken multiple days to sort themselves out and he expected this one to be extremely lengthy, for whoever the V’kit’no’sat commander was he was keeping his ships on a tight leash. They didn’t have a huge advantage here and Paul’s ship made no attempts to hide its identity, so they knew the trailblazer was present, and while they were eager to engage his fleet they were doing so with just enough cautionary aggression to frame this battle in an endurance grind protocol.
Fortunately the trailblazers had practically invented that approach to naval warfare to counter the V’kit’no’sat’s technological dominance that had been all but mitigated in recent years. So even as ships were being lost on both sides, the majority of the damage being exacted was going to armor damage and shield depletion, the latter of which could be continually regenerated so long as the emitters weren’t destroyed or the power source cut out.
It was like two swordsmen parrying over and over again looking for an opportunity to strike the other with a killing blow…but while not being so reckless to expose themselves to one.
Paul and his crew could switch off continuously, despite the fact that the Archon could go for long periods of time without sleep, so there wasn’t a fatigue issue there. No, the fatigue issue was the number of drones being damaged or destroyed, and likewise the V’kit’no’sat ships. Both sides were being slowly whittled down, and despite the fact that it looked like Paul had less resources to work with, battles of this size rarely came down to starting numbers. It was the trend of how much damage you were doing versus how much you were taking, and so far the computer analysis had Paul’s fleet ahead by a decent margin.
That said, the V’kit’no’sat had far more tonnage and a misstep by either side could skew those numbers considerably, so at this point it was up in the air who could come out on top, with the only certainty being massive damage to both fleets if they continued to keep up this intense level of naval combat.
22
August 1, 4812
Orlero System (Devastation Zone)
Tauntaun
Esna’s speeder came to the end of the tunnel spur the Archon had directed them down, with the ice suddenly disappearing but normal gravity didn’t return. Nor did her environmental sensors indicate the temperature went up. The speeder passed through an artificial doorway and into a large hangar that immediately sent a wave of relief through her claustrophobic mind, so much so that she’d forgotten how much she’d clamped down on those feelings.
The hangar wasn’t part of a base, but just a long box set down in the ice that was almost on the surface. She hadn’t realized it during the trip, but the tunnel had been slowly climbing in altitude and according to her battlemap the hangar roof only had a few dozen meters of ice covering it.
As the speeder slowed to a stop people began jumping off and spreading out, but Esna stayed on until her footing was secure then forced her stiff legs to move in a short hop that took her down to the hangar deck. The pilot of the speeder also got off, making Esna realize he wasn’t going back. But that made sense, because they’d passed the other two speeders going the opposite direction earlier and they had more than enough room to pick up everyone that was left. Still, the lack of urgency seemed odd given the fact that their warriors were running on f
oot to stay ahead of the Zen’zat…or Ari’tat, if they dared to send them against the Archon again.
Esna disconnected her pack and weapons rack, laying them on the ground and stretching out a bit as she went through some calisthenics routines that Rammak had taught her. The size of the hangar was refreshing, but the sight of the long, giant ship sitting in it caused her mixed feelings. It stretched at least half a mile long and was of a shape she didn’t recognize, but the far end was bigger than the front…assuming this was the front that she was standing under, for the exit had led them right up to it and most of the ‘expansive’ room to move around was the gap between the hull and the floor.
Huge landing legs were visible in the distance, as well as a lowered ramp that probably explained where the rest of the techs were, but as she looked at it her emotions couldn’t settle on whether it was their ticket out of here or to a quick death at the hands of a Vik warship, for as big as it was to her eyes now she knew that compared to what the enemy had brought this beauty was extremely undersized.
Then again it probably wasn’t for fighting, and if they could take off all they’d be doing was running with the fleet up there doing the hard work. Still, with Zen’zat tracking them and no other way out of this hangar, Esna much preferred having the option to fly out of here rather than to make this their last stand as probably a lot of other evacuee groups were having to do…or had they disappeared down tunnels the Zen’zat weren’t searching while chasing Esna’s group and others?
That had been the plan when her initial group had split into three, but there was no way of knowing if they’d successfully drawn them away from the others or not. Given how many Zen’zat seemed to be chasing them, maybe they had.
Esna hoped so for the others’ sake, but knew that once the Zen’zat got here the ship would have to leave. Probably before that actually, because if they found out it was here they might call one of their warships out or at least alert them to it. Meaning when the hangar opened they’d be target practice.
With that in mind she picked up her pack and rack and carried them over to the ramp and headed up inside the ship…where normal gravity was restored and her legs reminded her how little real work she’d been doing. She felt so sluggish after having been in low gravity, but the slight burn in her muscles was a good sign. This ordeal was coming to an end one way or another and her body was starting to wake up along with her mind now that she was finally out of those damn tunnels.
As soon as she was up the ramp Esna found herself in a small room that looked like an entry chamber. It had two doors leading out, one of which was already open, so she went through it and found herself in a long, wide corridor that looked like it ran the length of the ship. There was a single person visible in the distance, then a sound to her right caused her to spin around and see a Human tech outside his envirosuit. His name was Gustov, if she remember correctly, and though he was wearing a green uniform instead of an envirosuit as he waved at her.
“Glad you guys made it. How many more are still out there?”
“The Archon, the Commandos, and the Scionate,” Esna said, retracting her helmet and getting a taste of the fresh, warm, and clean air inside the ship. “What can I do to help?”
“How far behind you are they?”
“Hours.”
“Then get yourself cleaned up, some food, and maybe a nap. We’ve got the ship taken care of, so the only thing you could do is stand guard at the tunnel entrance, but I don’t see much point. The speeders will be back before the Zen’zat are, and if they’re coming in hot they’ll let us know. We’ve got anti-infantry weapons on the underside of the ship ready to target the tunnel if needed. I’d suggest you get out of that armor and relax a bit. If we need something we’ll let you know.”
“Alright. Where on the ship do I go?”
“Roam where you like, there aren’t individual quarters. We have bunkrooms designed to accommodate as many people as possible. This was designed as an evac ship. Do you have any injuries that need attending to?”
“No, I’m ok, but there are a lot of hurt Commandos coming.”
“The medics are dealing with them already.”
“No, I mean in the last group. Rammak was hit in several places, as were some others.”
“Calavari are hard to kill. They’ve got a lot of redundancy in terms of organs. We’ve got a regenerator onboard, so as long as they’re clinging to life we’ll be able to repair them. Come on, I’ll get you sorted.”
Esna followed Gustov through a bit of a ship’s tour. It was a lot bigger than the outposts, but nothing like the Ma’kri she’d been on before. This was tiny in comparison and most of the ship was work/equipment areas. The living areas were compact and efficiently designed, but as stated there were no quarters, just rooms full of bunks of varying sizes. Esna found one of the smaller ones and put her gear inside, then the tech left her at the shower room where she got out of her armor and cleaned up quickly.
Putting her somewhat worn but fresh uniform back on after it also got cleaned, Esna went and stashed her armor beside her bunk then took a quick nap, intending to be awake before Rammak’s group got here…assuming they did. But when she settled in to sleep she couldn’t at first, worrying about the others, then the next thing she remembered was hearing feet stomping by her as her eyes resisted her mental order to open them.
Esna groggily swiped the sleep out of her eyes and rolled out of the bunk in time to see a Kiritas coming through.
“Esna. Need your help.”
“What?” she asked, trying to wake up.
“Need more hands. Come,” he said, hop/stepping down the corridor.
“Do I need my armor?” she asked, standing up.
“No, just your hands.”
“Alright,” she said, hurrying after him and finding her body still hadn’t readjusted to the normal gravity yet, feeling like she weighed twice as much as normal but flaking off pounds with every step as she followed him into one of the engineering sections were several other techs were busy working. “Is something wrong?”
“Modular equipment. Need to shift. You hold, I work. Use this,” he said, grabbing a shallow, open topped box and holding it up to her waist…which was about even with his shoulders.
“Sure. What’s the hurry?”
“Need safer transmitter to contact drones without V’kit’no’sat knowing. Have parts, but not in correct configuration. Set up for standard transmission. This will lower range, but allow us to transmit on battlemap signals.”
“Aren’t we already getting battlemap signals from the fleet?”
“Those aren’t stealthed. Combat armor is stealthed, but suffers from short range. Can communicate farther if unstealthed, but that creates risk. Starships don’t use stealthed signals because nowhere to hide, but enough redundancy is included in design to allow for adjustment in cases of special need, such as now.”
“Makes sense. How long will it take?” she asked as the Kiritas pulled out a palm-sized component from one wall and put it on the tray, then proceeded to do the same going down the row with such quick movements that Esna had trouble seeing his hands through the blur.
“Less with more help. We only got order few minutes ago.”
“Order from who?”
“Archon. They are nearly here.”
“They are? How long did I sleep?”
“Bring,” the Kiritas said when the tray was full, then he took a handful of components himself down the workspace that was almost too narrow for her to walk straight on with the wide tray, making her watch her steps carefully. “Up ladder.”
“I can’t climb with my hands full,” she warned as the shorter tech scurried up it with his tail disappearing through a hatch, then his head coming back into view.
“I take tray,” it said, reaching down while its tail was looped around something out of view to keep it from falling.
“Why do you talk like that?” Esna asked, reaching it up to him and managing the pass witho
ut dumping it all on her head. “The other Kiritas don’t.”
“Some do. We prefer to use less words. More efficient. Do you have trouble understanding?”
“I can understand you fine,” she said as the empty tray came back down and she grabbed it.
“Need more,” the tech said, dropping down and landing in an easy hop on his long, powerful legs. “You not learn English in Star Force. You learn different?”
“Some words are different, but most is the same,” she said as he started pulling out more components and piling up the tray again.
“How? Did you have recordings to learn from?”
“No. I just learned.”
“From what?”
“Everyone else. My father, actually. Then words were a little different on For…I mean Mace.”
“800 years is long time. Much lost. How language stayed same is mystery. Must have calibration to keep same.”
“Maybe there was…calibration…on the planet. I lived in a remote part of it. I couldn’t go far.”
“Why? Hunted?”
“I would have been, but I was told to keep away from people. It kept me and my brother alive for a long time.”
“Where is your brother?”
“He didn’t make it off the planet. The people killed him when they found out we were Human. Would have killed me too if Rammak hadn’t been there at the right time to save me.”
“Did not hear that. You did good to survive. Come,” the Kiritas said, with Esna following him back to the ladder and passing the tray up again. They repeated the process dozens of times while talking about a lot of things, all at the Kiritas’s prompting. In a way it made the time go fast and they worked their way over what felt like half the ship, mostly by themselves but in and around the other techs at various points as they were shifting all kinds of portable modules from place to place.