by M. D. Cooper
Though the enemy ships lay down withering point-defense fire and jinked to new positions, many of the missiles found their mark, and nuclear fireballs bloomed bright, obscuring the battlefield.
The ARC-6s sped through the enemy’s formation, their stasis shields flaring brightly as they took beamfire, though not as much as Tanis had feared. Once through, the ISF fighters described sweeping arcs around the edges of the Hegemony fleet, coming about for another assault.
Angela commented.
Tanis replied.
Angela said.
Now there were just five seconds until the capital ships were in weapons range.
Tanis noted that the enemy fleet had responded, but not against the ISF fighters. Instead, another wave of RMs appeared on scan, once more snaking toward the vulnerable TSF ships.
She gave a mental nod to Priscilla, and the avatar altered the composition of the I2’s massive electrostatic ramscoop—a field over ten thousand kilometers across—to operate as a molecular decoupler. It was not a new trick, but one that was so far beyond the technical capabilities of their enemies, few opposing commanders seemed prepared for it.
Half the RMs disintegrated and spun off course as the field swept over them, though many survived the wave and approached the TSF ships. Countermeasures and grapeshot filled the space between the two fleets as they neared the maximum range of their primary beam weapons.
The ISF ships shifted their protective bubbles around the TSF vessels, utilizing the same tactics that had been successful in the last two volleys of relativistic missiles.
Then, something unexpected occurred.
Tremendous flares of light and energy filled the battlefield, obscuring both fleets. Scan was blinded, and communications with the rest of the fleet cut out. Tanis winced as her mind, spread across the fleet’s ships, snapped back into her own head.
She only managed one word, “What?” before understanding dawned on her. The missiles had carried antimatter warheads. The Hegemony had just committed a grievous war crime—likely in response to the Transcends’ use of antimatter weapons against their fake fleet in Ascella.
The antimatter detonations disappeared from scan in less than a second as the ships of Fleet Group 1 sped past the expanding clouds of radiation that were traveling in the opposite direction.
Four hundred milliseconds later, the ships nearby reconnected to the combat net and Tanis cried out, The message retransmitted to the rest of the fleet as the ships re-Linked.
Damage estimates rolled in and Tanis saw that one hundred and eleven TSF ships had been destroyed or disabled, and forty-two ISF ships had suffered shield failures and taken damage from secondary explosions.
There were still fifty-six hundred undamaged ships in Fleet Group 1. The holodisplay finally resolved to show the seven divisions of Fleet Group 1, looking like insects travelling toward the fly-swatter that was the Hegemony fleet.
But these bugs were prepared to sting.
The capital ships were now in weapons range, and the two fleets exchanged intensifying levels of beamfire with one another. Tanis once more stretched her mind out, guiding ships and aided in target selection, feeling her mind swell as she encompassed the entire battlefield.
Her primary goal was to get her ships through the web intact—or as intact as she could—with a focus on disabling the enemy’s maneuverability and weapons systems, rather than total destruction of their vessels.
And, over the fourteen seconds during which the capital ships exchanged fire, her Fleet Group 1 disabled seven hundred nine Hegemony vessels.
The enemy commander, for their part, had changed their tactic. Rather than focusing on the TSF vessels, they targeted the smaller ISF ships, likely testing the stasis shield’s ability to withstand concentrated particle beam attacks.
Something Tanis now knew that they could not. The larger AST ships—their cruisers and dreadnaughts—fired proton and atom beams, the heavy particles and atomic nuclei striking the ISF stasis shields at near-light speed. A few, even a dozen of those beams could be shrugged off by the stasis shields, but hundreds of beams struck each targeted ship, and one by one those vessels saw their shields fail as reactors overheated and shut down.
The I2, for its part, delivered its own waves of high energy particle beams, tearing through the AST ships like they were paper. A thousand beams at a time arced from the massive ship, pulverizing shields, destroying engines and weapons systems. Even the AST dreadnaughts were unable to withstand the I2’s high-energy salvos.
Then, the fourteen seconds were past, and Tanis drew her consciousness back into her mind and looked around her at the bridge of the I2.
Most of the personnel were drawing deep breaths, their expressions grim, yet glad. Captain Espensen gave Tanis a relieved nod as scan slowly pieced together a picture of what had happened.
The I2 had taken no damage—a fact which did not surprise Tanis. The ship’s shields were the most powerful in the fleet and drew energy from CriEn modules, something that Bob would not allow for any other vessel.
The risk of the smaller ships creating localized imbalances in the base quantum energy of the universe was too great. He did not even extend his trust to the AIs of the other ships—fearing they would draw too much energy in a bid to survive.
Two hundred thirty-five. That was the number of ISF ships which were now little more than drifting hulls—if they were lucky. Only seven additional TSF ships had taken critical damage, though a hundred more ships across the fleet group had suffered some damage from the engagement.
But they had given as good as they got. The vector at which the fleets had intersected gave Fleet Group 1 consistent firing solutions on Hegemony ships. However, due to the enemy’s formation, they had suffered three entire seconds where the majority of their fleet could not fire without risk of hitting their own.
Tanis had made the most of those seconds with another barrage of double-impact RMs.
Now, Fleet Group 1 was past the Hegemony ships on their continued race toward the Trisilieds fleet. To their rear, many of the Hegemony ships were already boosting to catch up. As they did, the Scan team finished their tallies.
The enemy had suffered what would normally be a crippling amount of damage, with over three-thousand ships disabled or destroyed. However, when that still left twenty-six thousand ships intact, it was a different story.
Tanis imagined that the Hegemony commanders must have been rethinking taking on a fleet that could destroy three thousand ships in less than a minute—even when pitted against a far superior enemy. The math didn’t favor either side.
In a slugfest, they would wear each other down to nothing.
Captain Espensen let out a long whistle. “That was some crazy strategery you did there, Admiral.”
“Thanks,” Tanis said, concentrating on the ARC-6 fighters, which were still making a second pass through the Hegemony fleet. She directed them to target the engines of the ships which had lowered their rear shielding as they boosted after Fleet Group 1.
“I can’t believe the Hegemony would call the use of our picobombs a war crime and then turn around and use antimatter on us.” Captain Espensen shook her head.
“They opened the door,” Tanis nodded. “They may not like what they find inside.”
“Captain, Admiral,” Scan called out. “Our fighters are coming back in for resupply. The Hegemony ships are boosting hard. They’ll be back in weapons range in sixty-two minutes.”
“That‘s a lot faster than we can repair and resupply all those fighters,” Captain Espensen commented, before casting an appraising
glance at Tanis. “Fleet TAC must have anticipated this. We’re trapped between the Hegemony and the Trisilieds ahead now.”
“Well,” Tanis began, “We didn’t exactly plan to be invaded like this, but our Hegemony friends back there are about to find that we can fire grapeshot to the rear with enough precision to slow their pursuit.”
“Even so,” Espensen replied, “they’ll catch us before we get to Carthage—which is where it looks like the Trisilieds fleet is headed.”
Tanis reviewed Fleet Group 1’s position relative to Carthage, plotting out their approach. She looked at the remaining ships, clustered around the disabled vessels, which were still traveling at the same velocity as the rest of the fleet.
“FCO,” Tanis called out. “Get every ship in this fleet on recovery duty. I want every disabled ship emptied in twenty-five minutes. Scoop everyone up, pods, everything. No one left behind. In fifty-five minutes, we’re dumping to the dark layer.”
“Tanis…we can’t…not so close to the star…” Captain Espensen whispered.
“Captain,” Tanis turned to Espensen. “You have your orders.”
A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS
STELLAR DATE: 04.01.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: ISS I2
REGION: Near Roma, New Canaan System
Sera found herself in awe of Tanis’s tactical abilities. The way she could direct the ships of her fleet with a single, precise intent was a wonder to behold. A wonder that made her consider her place in whatever was to come.
Finaeus should be the true heir to the Transcend, and Tanis was by far the most capable commander she had ever seen; as the Transcend’s Field Marshal, she would be the one in charge of every military action the TSF would take against the Orion Guard.
Sera was passable as Director of The Hand, but many of her successes there had been with Helen’s assistance—and now Greer and others wished her to take her father’s place? As what…queen, tyrant?
Her father had—deliberately, she supposed—placed weak provisions in the Transcend government’s constitution for a transfer of power. It was just like him. She imagined that if he had been able to speak his last words upon some exalted deathbed, he would have imitated Alexander of Macedonia with his ‘to the victor go the spoils’ utterance.
Sera shook her head, trying to clear all thoughts of her father from her mind. Thinking of him inevitably brought her back to the bridge of the Galadrial. The place where she had learned that everything in her life had been a lie, where every friend—save Tanis—had betrayed her.
A part of her mind chided her, reminding her that many friends had not betrayed her. Normally, Helen would have offered consolation here, but now that was gone, too.
It was insane to think that her mother—or a shard of her, at least—had been in her mind all these years. The things they had talked about, experienced, supported one another though—they were all shrouded in the lie. Everything about her was a lie.
Sera moaned inwardly. This perseveration was going to be the end of her. She needed to ground herself somehow, but the conflict they were in the midst of precluded that. How could she find stability in her own mind while everything around her balanced on a knife edge?
Her eyes fell on Tanis.
Now there was a woman who lived up to the legend—and then some. She stood, arms akimbo, before a holotank, surveying the battlespace they would soon enter, assessing her fleet’s strengths and weaknesses, adjusting her tactics as damage reports rolled in.
The air of confidence she exuded strengthened those around her. Everyone operated at their best, gave their all, overcame any obstacle, because they knew Tanis would do no less.
It would have emboldened Sera, if she had a purpose here.
Going with Sabrina on their mission was out of the question—even if her body wasn’t still healing, she would have thrown off their dynamic. Commanding a TSF or ISF ship was off the table, too. No one would let her take such a role now that she was the President of the Transcend. She had to be kept safe on the I2 like one of Nance’s porcelain dolls.
Sera looked at the countdown hovering over Tanis’s holotank. There were still forty minutes left before their next maneuver. She decided that a walk would help clear away the negative thoughts and get her back in the right frame of mind. Perhaps one of the ship’s parks would give her some peace.
Priscilla waved to her as she passed through the foyer, and Sera returned the gesture.
She walked through the administrative corridor connecting the bridge to the nearest maglev station and thought about how different it was now than during her first visit.
Then, the ship had been a civilian vessel—sort of. Most of the corridor had been given to offices of members of the colony leadership, their staffs, and the various departments that were focused on the ship’s destination.
Now, it was a hubbub of military personnel, the men and women of the ISF—a force that had gone from a couple dozen ships to one of the most powerful militaries in human space in less than a generation. How did they do it? Sera wondered, immediately feeling the pain of Helen’s absence once more. There was no one in her mind to talk with, no one with which to discuss her hopes and fears.
Sera wandered aimlessly, or so she tried to tell herself, but her feet moved steadily in one direction: to the I2’s brig.
As she drew near, she couldn’t hide it from herself anymore. There was one person who had betrayed her, in whom she had placed absolute trust, that was still around. Someone she could talk to, someone she could ask why?
“I’m here to see the prisoner, Elena,” Sera announced to the Marine sergeant at the duty station outside the brig.
The man looked up at her and his tired expression disappeared as he realized who she was. “Yes, ma’am!” he replied before glancing down at his screen. “Admiral Richards has you on the list of people who may visit Elena, but the prisoner will remain behind a stasis shield. No physical contact is allowed.”
“Suits me fine,” Sera muttered. “Probably better for the both of us.”
The sergeant gave her a puzzled look before nodding. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve passed you the route. Your conversation will be recorded, but immediately encrypted and saved. I will not have access to its content. However, Admiral Richards will.”
“Understood,” Sera replied and loaded the sergeant’s directions onto her HUD before passing through the security arch and into the brig.
The I2’s brig was, in a word, massive. She guessed that it could house ten thousand people—or maybe even more. She didn’t think that it was for misbehaving ISF military personnel, this was a POW camp inside the ship.
But right now, it only had two occupants: Kent, and Elena.
She only had directions to Elena’s cell, and that was just as well. Sera had deliberately avoided any contact with the Orion Guard colonel. Not that she feared the outcome of any contact, but because in her current state, she worried he would learn a lot more from her than she from him.
The same would certainly be true for Elena, but she needed to see if there were any explanations to be had, any closure.
Sera approached the cell and saw Elena sitting on a white cot mounted to the wall on the right within the grey, featureless cube. The only other item in the room was a small san unit.
Her former lover sat up as Sera approached and took a deep breath. “Time for our chat, is it?”
“I suppose,” Sera replied with a rueful smile. “It had to come eventually, right?”
“Yes, I suppose it did,” Elena nodded slowly. “I honestly thought you’d come sooner—back on the Galadrial. When they moved me here I began to wonder if I’d ever see you again.”
“At the very least, you’d see me as a witness at your trial,” Sera said as she summoned a seat to rise from the deck.
“Oh! I’m going to get a trial?” Elena smirked. “I guess that’s something. I half expected a summary execution at some point.”
“No, that’s your game,” Sera
scowled, ready to tear into Elena, but then she stopped, considering once more what Elena saved her from. “I’m sorry. That was unfair. I was about to do the same thing. You did save me from patricide—though I know in my heart I still would have killed my father—so you only saved me from other’s recriminations. Though you also robbed me of the answers I sought.”
Elena leaned back against her cell’s wall, pulling her knees up, a position Sera knew was intended to get her to trust her former lover, to remind her of happy times past.
Shit, Sera, she chided herself, do you have to analyze everything like a fucking spy?
“What do you think those answers are, now that you’ve had time to consider things?” Elena asked.
It was stupid, Sera knew it, but she wanted to confide in someone. Tanis was too busy to listen; her former crew was out in the black; Elena had been her comforter for many years now. It was too easy to slip back into that place.
“I think he suspected Airtha—he must have. I mean…Finaeus warned him,” Sera began. “If father did know, then maybe Airtha was too strong for him to take on, though it doesn’t explain why father tried to kill Finaeus on Ikoden station back when Jessica found him…what purpose would that have served? For everything to make sense, father must have exiled Finaeus for his own protection. Who was behind that assassination, then…?”
Sera’s head snapped up and her eyes drilled into Elena, who raised her hands defensively. “It wasn’t me! I knew Finaeus would strengthen you against your father, and that Praetor Kirkland was open to working with Finaeus—something he would not even entertain with your father.”
“Oh, so you’re in Kirkland’s inner council now, are you?” Sera’s tone grew caustic and her lip curled into a snarl. “What was your price, by the way? What did they offer you to betray me?”
To Sera’s surprise, a tear formed in Elena’s eye and drew a path down her cheek.
“You.”
“Me? What do you mean by that?” Sera asked, even though she suspected what Elena would say next.