Star Clusters: New Arrivals

by Dalo Lorn

  “Yes, sir. It was. Frankly, if we hadn’t been attacked by Poteran’s forces first, we’d never have gotten out of there - the poor fool got caught between us and the Xargans.”

  The admiral stared at him. “Really? That’s not what I heard. You’ve made a terrible mistake, Woren, and it’s time to pay the price,” he said.

  One of the larger objects in the area transformed into a Xargan.

  *** Bridge of the I.P.S. Hippasrus, one hour later ***

  “Sir, we’re receiving an encrypted transmission from Petra,” the communications officer reported. “Audio only - it’s Captain Woren.”

  Surprise and concern were clearly visible on the captain’s face as he turned towards the young lieutenant. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put it through.”

  “Poteran, we’ve been spotted! My forces are taking heavy fire - if we even created a window of opportunity, you have to take advantage of it now! You were right about the Xargans; Jelon’s one of them, I barely got out of his office when he attacked me.”

  The transmission ended there. “Helm, how soon can we reach Petra at maximum speed?”

  The fleet had been lying in wait near the Petran system for some time now, just outside the Petrans’ sensor range. “Fifteen minutes, sir,” the helmsman reported.

  “Should I signal the fleet?” the communications officer asked.

  “Yes - take all ships into hyperspace, maximum speed towards Petra. Prepare all drop pods for insertion into Melraas. We have to win this fight.”

  The entire fleet jumped into hyperspace; fifteen minutes later, they emerged into a low orbit above Melraas, raining drop pods towards their mission objectives. “Kellas, I don’t think we can do anything here anymore,” Rotgen said as their assault shuttles raced to the surface. “We should jump to Hemreus, try to save Woren’s fleet instead of sitting here and getting shot at by the orbital defenses.”

  “Won’t they start firing at our forces if we do that?” Boller asked.

  “No, Jalno’s right. They won’t bombard the city from orbit because of the collateral damage. All ships, jump to Hemreus as soon as possible.”

  Down on the surface, a sizable portion of the reinforced crystalline drop pods crashed into a park near a military base not far from the targeted broadcasting station. Each of the pods formed several legs, raising themselves out of the holes they made in the ground, then opened, revealing squads of Petran soldiers as well as vehicles. Unfortunately, though the Petrans could just as easily drop entire command centers in this fashion, there was no suitable location to make such an insertion at; Poteran’s troops would have to make do with the equipment they brought with themselves and anything they could capture. Loyalist forces opened fire from several sides, pinning Poteran’s men down.

  Suddenly, the loyalists blocking the path towards the base were attacked from behind. Within minutes, the street was cleared, and Poteran’s forces hurriedly withdrew from the park, meeting up with their rescuers. “I’m sure Captain Woren’ll appreciate your coming here so soon,” their leader said, “but you’ve walked right into a trap. The broadcast tower you’re trying to hit’s heavily fortified, and more reinforcements are on the way. I’m Major Lurvat, and I think we have a common ally.”

  “Major, I didn’t expect to see any backup here. What’s going on?”

  “It’s a long story, but all that matters right now is that you’re not alone. We’ve managed to take control of the base nearby; with your help, the equipment there should be enough to take the tower and maybe even push through to the Palace.”

  Meanwhile, the Klern and its fleet were being boarded by loyalist security teams as Poteran’s ships approached Hemreus. The orbital weapons platforms turned towards the incoming fleet, opening fire while loyalist ships emerged from the shipyards and assumed an offensive formation.

  “What are they doing?” Boller asked. “They don’t have the firepower for this maneuver!”

  “The Xargans don’t care; besides, those weapons platforms are the real threat here,” Poteran answered. “It doesn’t look like we can do much for Woren’s fleet, though. All ships, fall back. Execute micro-hyperspace jump back towards Petra, duration one second, distance thirty light seconds. Let’s see if they’re dumb enough to follow us out of the platforms’ range…”

  “As much as I admire your choice of tactics, Kellas,” Rotgen said as the fleet turned around and executed the jump, “what are we supposed to do if they go after us? We can’t just blow up a perfectly good fleet in this situation.”

  “One problem at a time, Jalno,” he objected. As Rotgen feared, the Hemrean defenders pursued, making a similar hyperspace jump to find themselves just outside firing range of the fleet. “All craft, target the enemy flagship; aim to disable.” The two groups moved into firing range of each other. “Fire.”

  A concentrated volley quickly pierced the flagship’s shields; much to Poteran’s dismay, the ship was obliterated. “I said ‘disable’!” he said; the loyalists were taken aback by the ease with which the attack had been executed, and stopped.

  “There were just too many of us, sir.”

  Poteran sighed. “Open a channel to the enemy fleet,” he finally decided.

  “Channel open, sir.”

  “Loyalist fleet, this is Captain Poteran of the Hippasrus. We’re not here to kill you; attacking us on your own would achieve nothing other than wasting lives and ships, which is exactly what the Xargans want,” he explained. “If you really must attack, then at least wait for your reinforcements to arrive. Even if we aren’t gone by then, there should be fewer casualties, which would give the survivors a fighting chance.”

  It was a welcome change of pace when they did as he asked. Unfortunately, mere moments after that, the opening of hyperspace windows signaled the arrival of the loyalists’ reinforcements. “You just had to say that, didn’t you…” Rotgen commented as the new arrivals moved into an attack formation.

  Poteran frowned. “I didn’t think they’d be here so soon.”

  “Well, they’re here now, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to hold them off long enough…”

  “We have to try,” Poteran answered. “All ships, engage the enemy - try to minimize casualties on both sides.” The two fleets dissolved into the typical chaos of a space battle; as was the case with the last one, the outcome of this confrontation near Petra would likely decide the fate of the known galaxy.

  In the meantime, Rear Admiral Jackson took a sip of his coffee.

  The Orion would reach the Centauri wormhole soon, but until then, the admiral had more free time than he could handle; it had been quite some time since he last had any meaningful amount of it. Part of him hoped he could resume his normal duties soon, while another part was trying to figure out what to do while he waited.

  As the ship slid silently through hyperspace, its deposed captain - a stranger to Jackson, though he understood that no single officer knew everyone in the Navy, so this was nothing unusual - entered the room. “Sir,” he started with an uncharacteristic amount of respect, “you don’t have to go to Earth.”

  Jackson put down his cup. “What are you suggesting, Captain?” he asked suspiciously.

  “We have just received a transmission - somebody found proof of your innocence.”

  The admiral turned towards him, still in his chair. “Really? Or was it handed to them on a silver platter?” he said, pausing to let the confused officer pick up on his thoughts. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. About what you said, and about what it meant. I don’t know who your masters serve or who they even are, but I know what they’ve done.”

  Suddenly, the expression on the younger man’s face changed from a baffled one to a curious, almost challenging one. “What, then? What have they done?”

  “Falsified reports of rebellion. Sabotaged the Menlon militia’s ships. Attacked Cartha. Framed me. What I can’t figure out, though, is why you’ve done any of it. I thoug
ht you were with the Xargans, but if that’s the case, then why let me go free?”

  “You’re not as alone as you may have thought, Admiral,” the captain said. “But for now, we must remain a mystery to you. You should go to Aphis - should its fuel production be impaired, the war effort would be significantly weakened.”

  “No argument there. Let’s not keep the Aphians waiting...

  ******

  “Major, we’re pinned down! They just won’t move!”

  “Keep fighting. My reinforcements should be here shortly,” Lurvat said.

  “If they don’t, there won’t be much left to reinforce! Everybody, target that tank!”

  ******

  “All remaining ships, prepare to jump into hyperspace!” Poteran ordered. The space battle wasn’t going any better than the ground one, and the fleet was falling apart at the seams.

  “What about our ground forces?” Boller asked as a damaged fighter slammed into the Piluams’ right flank, exploding against its shield bubble.

  “There’s no--”

  “Kellas, look! The orbital platforms!” Rotgen suddenly said, drawing their attention to Petra. Indeed, something was wrong; the weapons platforms above Melraas were turning their cannons on the city. Once they had locked on to their targets, the turrets fired - raining death and destruction onto the planet’s surface. The orbital strike brought down a large portion of the streets the battle was currently taking place in, obliterating most - if not all - of the troops on both sides.

  Multiple loyalist ships started broadcasting their defection as their guns turned on the rest of the fleet. However, even with this new reinforcement, Poteran’s forces were losing. “Transmit rendezvous coordinates to the defectors! Break off on my mark!” Poteran commanded.

  “We won’t have another shot at this!” Rotgen protested as the bombardment continued. “Keep pressing the attack - we have to get rid of this fleet and take down the weapons platforms!”

  “Our fleet simply isn’t strong enough, Jalno - we don’t have a choice.”

  “They’re about to destroy the capital!”

  “I know!” Poteran yelled back. “At least we’ll be alive to keep fighting if we pull back.”

  “Kellas, I’ve respected you for a long time. You’re an excellent tactician. But when you make mistakes,” Rotgen said, “you make them big. The Soscut makes its stand here.”

  A substantial portion of the fleet acknowledged and joined the Soscut’s formation; only the Hippasrus and a few smaller pickets kept preparing to retreat. As the battle raged on, the Hippasrus’ powerful weapons kept bombarding the loyalists as the ship turned around. “Helm,” Poteran reluctantly started.

  “Sir, we’re picking up more hyperspace windows opening,” the sensor officer interrupted. “It’s the Manev!”

  The Petran captain couldn’t believe his ears. “What?!” he asked surprisedly. The Meerte Manev and the four missing ships from its group emerged from hyperspace at the edge of the system, quickly jumping to the edge of the loyalists’ firing range, all weapons tearing into the nearest enemy ship.

  “Loyalist forces are withdrawing!”

  “We’re being hailed.”

  “On screen. Form up on the Soscut.”

  “Captain, I trust we’re not too late?” the Manev’s captain asked.

  “On the contrary, your timing couldn’t have been better. We’re heading to engage the weapons platforms firing on Melraas - fall into formation under the Soscut.”

  “Actually, Kellas, seeing as you’re still with us, you can take control of the fleet again. All craft, reform under the Hippasrus.”

  The fleet formed up around the Hippasrus, then jumped towards Petra. The satellites bombarding Petra turned around to face the new arrivals; squadrons of fighters weaved past the enemy weapons fire, shooting their small guns into the shield bubbles encircling the turrets. After a short while, the shield around the first satellite failed; the sustained fire from Poteran’s forces tore it apart in a fiery explosion, and they moved on to the next.

  Finally, after twenty minutes, the battle was over. Several districts of the city below had been reduced to rubble, most notably the broadcasting towers the entire operation was intended to seize. However, very few loyalists remained to protect the palace. The High Council had made its final move, proving its Xargan-controlled nature in the process. Multiple shuttles from the orbiting fleet landed throughout the city. One headed into the palace courtyard, where Lurvat, Woren and a small group of soldiers waited to welcome them back home.

  The ramp emerged from the seamless lower hull of the shuttle, revealing Poteran, Rotgen, Boller, two more captains - one being from the Meerte Manev - and their guards. “Major Lurvat,” Poteran started once everyone had disembarked, “I hear we have you and your men to thank for our survival.”

  “I would not thank myself if I were you, Captain,” Lurvat said, revealing a small remote switch and activating it. “Goodbye,” he added smugly; a massive hyperspace window opened, engulfing Petra and the orbiting fleet. Before anyone could react, the rift destabilized, scattering its contents within a two light year area. Nobody survived.

  The culmination of the Xargan infiltration of Petra had now obliterated billions and dealt a considerable blow to the Petran Empire. Even if the Xargans were stopped, this strike had the potential to vastly change the political situation in the galaxy; whether the change would be good or not had yet to be seen.

  For the moment, though, the ships docked above Hemreus departed, their crews - and their former loyalist boarders - united by a thirst for revenge.

  Several hours later, as the Tarhedia departed towards the Vaanle system, it finally received a transmission from the Arcamil. Lossuh had only heard the news himself at that point, and it was his disturbed face that Lanis, Hatos, Zeshaira, Barnes and the others saw on the holoviewer in the ship’s briefing room.

  “I have… bad news,” the Arcamil leader said. “Those foul creatures… They destroyed Petra with some sort of hyperspace ‘bomb’. Poteran’s entire fleet was destroyed along with all of its personnel.”

  Something in Fanra just snapped - the sheer emotional impact overwhelmed the already sensitive Petran scientist. She simply got out of her chair and ran out of the room in tears. Herrun, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be doing anything.

  Hatos and Zeshaira remained silent, remembering the end of Tarhedia while Barnes quietly tried to calculate how many people were killed. Lanis was the first one to break the silence. “How did they manage to build something like that?”

  “We don’t know yet. We suspect the Lurvat impersonator blinded us to the plan; it would have taken them some time to assemble the device, let alone power it, suggesting that the major has been compromised for quite a while. It makes me wonder what other surprises the Xargans have in store for us.”

  “As tragic as this is,” Hatos observed, “I do not believe it has any negative effect on our immediate plan. Now more than ever, Vaanle will need us - and with their homeworld destroyed, the Petrans may be more receptive to outside assistance.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right, or this will have been the last nail in our coffin,” Barnes said.

  “Either way, the Xargans’ll need a lot of coffins when I’m done,” Herrun coldly added, his fury just barely visible in his voice.

  “And I think Fanra’s going to need a lot of tissues,” Lanis said. “One of us should go check on her once we’re done.”

  “Yes, I’ll be brief,” Lossuh answered. “Some of our scouts have found debris near the Petran border corresponding to the Unieais. There’s not enough of it for the whole ship, but it is entirely possible that the rest was taken by the Xargans or destroyed at another location. As of right now, we should act as if the Tarhedians weren’t coming, even if the ship really did get through.”

  “Can’t we just send another ship?” Herrun asked.

  “Even if we got a second ship through the blockade right now, it’s extremely
unlikely that the reinforcements would arrive in time to make a difference. Either we break the Xargan offensive before the Tarhedians could be summoned, or we get broken ourselves.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising…” Lanis said.

  “No. It doesn’t. Needless to say, your performance here will be vital. Lossuh out.” The holoviewer shut off.

  “So, who’s going to see how Fanra’s doing?”

  “A very good question,” Hatos answered. “Tarhedians may have experience with such annihilation, but she seems to react quite well to you for some reason.”

  “Right. I’ll go, then.” Having said that, he walked out of the room - a few minutes later, he was outside Fanra’s quarters.

  The door opened; she was sitting on her bed, crying. “Leave me alone,” she weakly told him. “I just need some time...”

  “We might not have that time,” Lanis answered. “Just…” he paused, trying to find something helpful to say, “don’t let it break you, okay? Don’t let them get to you.” After saying that, he turned to leave the room.

  Several hours later, the Tarhedia dropped out of hyperspace in the Vaanle system. The battle wasn’t going well - Xargan and Petran forces were fighting each other throughout the system, with the latter hopelessly outnumbered at each location. A portion of the attacking fleet broke off and headed towards the Tarhedia.

  “Divert power from non-critical systems to shields and launch all available fighters,” Hatos ordered. “Transporter control, stand by to transport explosives into the approaching formation.” The Xargans continued their approach, the larger creatures lagging behind the swarm of fighters. Meanwhile, the Ivory Eagle and several squadrons of fighters darted out of the hangars, forming up into a formation resembling an arrowhead. “Transport when ready.”

  From the Eagle’s cockpit, Lanis saw multiple bombs materialize just in front of the incoming swarm. Before the Xargans could react, the bombs exploded, decimating their fighters with a cloud of shrapnel. “See? I told you it’d work!” Lanis exclaimed. “Now that we’ve evened the odds a bit… All fighters, head for the center. Let’s see how these things hold up against Xargan swarmers…”