---
Dials and Van had watched the entire thing in silence and could not believe what they had witnessed. Almost 50 percent of their naval space forces turned to ashes within the first hour of battle. They both stood staring at the monitors, eyes wide, mouths open, in shock. They had seen Radin’s flagship fleeing, but it had gone out of sight behind the ash clouds and debris and they did not know Radin’s fate.
Adamarus was sitting with his head in his hands.
Van whispered more to himself than anyone else, “Battle Groups One and Two gone…just like that…completely gone.”
It was the first words any of them had uttered since the energy wave had hit the last row of the two battle groups—where Nero’s battleship had been located.
Adamarus hands dropped, his head remained hanging.
Dials voice trembled, “If The Bonnet got behind that moon, perhaps she survived.”
Now Adamarus’ head slowly rose. His eyes were red, his cheeks streaked with dried tears. “Radin,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. Suddenly he jumped up, “Van…” he cleared his throat, “we must attempt to contact Battle Group Three.”
“Shit,” Van interrupted, “Battle Group Three!”
“We have to somehow warn them off.” Adamarus said, as both he and Dials moved behind Van who was already at the damaged com station.
“Look,” Dials shouted. They were only the smallest dots, but the 100 battleships and support ships of Battle Group Three had rounded Serena. They looked like 100 small flickering candles. They were moving unbelievably fast.
Van slammed his fist on the console, “We’re still down.”
“What can we do?” Adamarus asked.
There was nothing.
All three turned and looked at the Blackship in time to see it complete the backward wave of its long arms. It was easy to see the energy wave that was emitted against the cloud bands of Serena. It headed straight for the incoming battle group.
Adamarus was suddenly jarred by another thought—one too horrible to consider. Dear God, he hadn’t even considered that the range of the alien’s weapon might be so great that other assets might be in its path and in danger! “Dials, see if you can plot a rough course for the first energy wave and see what’s in its path. Assume infinite range.”
Immediately, she saw what Adamarus was thinking, “On it,” she cried. It didn’t take long. Her response was almost a scream, “Adamarus, if it maintains its expansion and speed, it will impact the LAC Fighter Squadrons—all of them—as well as ASKIN One…”
Adamarus’ heart skipped a beat. The LAC Fighter Squadron was all of Amular’s Light Attack Craft. ASKIN One was the primary Kinetic Asteroid Weapon’s guidance unit.
“…and…” Dials almost broke down, “ASKIN Two will get hit too…if it keeps its current rate of acceleration and expansion. Adamarus, it can’t have that kind of range, can it?”
Adamarus had no answer. He felt sick. ASKIN Two was the secondary Asteroid guidance unit and if that was taken out as well, then their kinetic asteroid weapon was gone.
“Oh no,” Dials yelled.
“What?” Adamarus shouted back.
“Ohhhhhh...no!” Dials was crying now.
“What?” Adamarus asked again even louder.
Dials was staring at her sensor console, her hands over her mouth, her shoulders heaving.
“Dials!” Adamarus shouted.
She jumped, then turned toward him. Her face was white. “The second energy wave...” Adamarus cocked his head. Van was looking at her too. “It somehow jumped to relativistic speed...”
Adamarus realized she was talking about the one moving toward Battle Group Three. His head jerked in their direction. “Time to impact?” he hollered.
“It’s hitting them now,” she said between tears.
---
The Loud Umbrella Ship assigned to Battle Group Three had not had to spend years performing slingshots with battle groups. She had joined them for the last slingshot around Aster.
Battle Group Three, the Umbrella ship in the lead, rounded Serena at relativistic speeds, completely unaware of the fates of Battle Groups One and Two and the weapon the Blackship had used on them.
On the battleship, The Night Hawke, Admiral Richard Willard stood in front of his seat looking at the enlarged image of his target. The damn thing was huge and ugly. “Communications, I need status updates.”
“Sir, we haven’t been able to break through the jamming.”
“I need information, not excuses.” Willard walked quickly to the sensor station, placed a hand on the sensor operator’s shoulder and bent down. “Have you detected Battle Groups One and Two yet?”
“No, sir,” there was both worry and fear in the man’s voice. “I have picked up a large amount of…strange debris where the ships should be.”
A chill creeped up Willard’s neck. “What kind of ‘strange debris’?”
“It’s very fine dust or maybe ash.”
Willard bent in and lowered his voice, “Well, Ron, remember what I said to you about the Loud I-pills…that I wasn’t really sure living forever was such a great thing.” The Ensign looked up, smiling. The Admiral smiled back. “Keep looking.” He straightened and backed away from the sensor station. This is not good, he thought, not good at all. “Communications, establish a ship-to-ship with the Umbrella ship.”
The main screen was on maximum magnification showing the Blackship, but, in the lower left corner, part of the Loud ship’s awning was visible, its complex structures bathed in a green glow. Suddenly the green glow went out and the awning and its structures seemed to go out of focus.
At the same time, the communications officer said, “I’m not getting a reply…” It was the last thing Richard Willard heard as the energy wave struck his ship, turning it to ash.
Battle Group Three had, over the many years of slingshot maneuvers, managed to obtain 2.5 light speed. The Slayer’s wall of energy was also traveling at relativistic speed—1.7 light speed. One hundred battleships, 38 support ships and the one Loud Umbrella ship met with the Slayer’s wall of energy, merged and passed in one one-tenth of a second. All that was left was an immense smear of ash that was traveling at over two percent the speed of light.
---
Like the rest of Amular’s defenses, the 700 space fighters of the LAC Fighter Squadron were in shock, numb and in a total state of disbelief by the disjointed reports that had come out of Echo Charlie Seven.
In Adamarus’ absence, the Sky Blazer was the fighter division’s flagship, Admiral Troy commanding.
Troy had his forces divided into 28 elements of 25 fighters each, aligned on either side of the Blackship’s path. They were all in silent mode so that they could spring into action from seemingly out of nowhere close to the alien. Do it before it could wave its long skinny arms and use that weapon they had watched from the Serena relays before the jamming started.
They had seen the waving arms, then lost contact with the forces at Echo Charlie Seven; then via the dwindling visuals provided by the Serena relay as well as direct Tachyon scans, they’d seen all three battle groups vanish.
What they had not seen nor been informed of was the distortion caused by the energy wave. They did not know what to look for.
The fighters were maintaining communication silence other than direct fighter-to-fighter narrow beam transmissions. Just then, a transmission came in from element Alpha 4.
“Go ahead, Alpha 4,” the first officer replied.
“Flag, there’s something kind of strange going on here.”
Troy frowned and keyed his throat mike, “Alpha 4, this is Troy. Specify.”
“Well, sir, the stars in front of us are kind of shimmering.”
Troy’s frown deepened. “Hold one, Alpha 4,” and he put the transmission on hold. “Danny,” his first officer turned to him, “zoom in on…wait!” As he looked in the direction of the approaching though still unseen alien ship, he could see the stars shimmerin
g…without zooming in.
“What is it, sir?” his first officer asked.
“Danny, look out there,” Troy pointed to port, “do you see…”
“Shit,” Danny saw it all right, “the damn stars are dancing around.”
“You ever see anything like that?”
“No, sir.”
Troy didn’t like this…not one bit. He keyed his mike, “Alpha 4…”
No response.
“Alpha 4, this is flag. Come in.”
No response.
Troy looked at his first officer with the strangest expression. His first officer quickly checked his passive sensors. “What the hell…? Sir, Alpha 1 through 4 are…not showing up. They're gone. Just…Lord God! All four Beta elements just vanished.”
Troy looked to port trying to get a visual on the ships. He could see nothing, but the three ships on that side of him might be blocking his view.
“Admiral, we’ve lost Charlie, Delta, Echo…”
“Impossible. Check your sensors,” Troy said and started to call those ships as he looked to port again. The last thing Admiral Troy ever saw was simply not possible: The outer hulls of the three fighters off to his port side seemed to turn to dust, exposing the framework underneath.
---
The eight crew members of ASKIN One died horrible deaths. The energy wall was much weaker now and when it hit the installation, it first turned the hull into a coarse dust. Immediately, the eight crew members were exposed to the hard vacuum of space, but also the energy beam stripped their skin off. They were all dead in 22 seconds, but it was 22 seconds of hell.
However, the eight crew members of ASKIN Two died the worst deaths of all, for the energy beam was even weaker when it reached them. It riddled the hull with microscopic holes and the atmosphere leaked out very slowly. It also riddled the eight crew members’ skin with tiny holes so that they started bleeding from every inch of their bodies. It took 12 full minutes for them to die.
The thousands of asteroids flying around Iceis at relativistic speeds were now useless.
---
Nero was using a flashlight to check a young female Ensign’s eyes for signs of concussion when the main lighting came on. Consoles started coming to life. He helped the Ensign back into her seat, told her to strap in and dashed back to the captain’s seat.
“Status?” he asked as he strapped himself in. After several long seconds, reports started coming in.
“The computer’s up, but reports all external feeds are offline.”
“Sensors are still offline, sir.”
Nero thought for a moment then said, “Working with the data we last had, extrapolate forward and tell me the location and speed of the energy wave?”
After a moment, “It looks like we’re outrunning it by a wide margin. The nuclear separation should have us moving pretty fast—around .05 cee. That’s much faster than it could have accelerated given its last curve and the timeframe. We should be in the clear.”
Nero sighed. Out of danger—from the alien weapon anyway, “Helm, what’s our course?”
“Our last known course was zero eight seven four zero one—that should not have changed. Sir, we’re not getting any response from any of the thrusters.”
All of the view ports were still off. Nero slammed the restraint release and jumped up. “Damage control?”
“We’re working on it, sir.”
Nero slowly started turning to each station in turn. “Engineering?”
“Our computers are working. We have plenty of power—at least a year’s worth.”
“Communications?”
“It looks like we’ve lost the forward array—we’re not getting anything, sir.”
“Port and starboard bays?”
“The explosion would have crumpled the entire mid-section. Everything there is down or cutoff. Surprisingly even the small wedge bay is offline and seems to be in vacuum.”
Nero was surprised at that one. “Okay. Weapons?”
“Offline.”
Nero looked up again at Damage Control.
“Except for sensors, our feeds are dead.” The two officers unbuckled and got up, “We’ll manually check what we can.”
Nero swallowed then looked at the station to the left of Damage Control, “Environmental?” The low chatter around the room went silent.
Both officers at the Environmental Station looked up—their eyes a little wide, their faces pale. One of them said, “Captain…perhaps you should…” they looked at each other for a second, “…step up here?”
Nero looked around the bridge. All eyes were on them. He looked back up, “Linda, it’s a little late for that…just tell us.”
“It’s our air supply…even with scrubbers, maybe five days.”
Nero was shocked. Normally air supply was counted in decades. He just stared at her for a minute, then turned to the Science Station, “What could have caused such widespread damage?”
“Sir, everything we’re seeing could be explained if the energy wave briefly passed over the wedge and…sanded it down, so to speak. We cut it very close and the wedge is very massive.”
Nero interrupted, “Isn’t massive good?”
“Good for protecting what’s within—bad for getting it moving quickly. Even though the nuclear detonation propelled us with sufficient power, the energy wave was advancing very fast and our departure was delayed by the anticipated buckling of the mid-section and, as stated, by the mass of the wedge. What almost certainly happened is that the energy wave passed over us for a moment, eating away the outer layer of the wedge, taking out the thrusters, sensors, view screen cameras, weapons and external air tanks. And, by the way, we’re probably sealed in with no way out.”
Nero’s shoulders dropped. “So, we’re inside an inescapable hunk of battle armor, speeding out of our star system at high speed, deaf, dumb, blind and running out of air.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, people, this is when the Captain turns to all of you,” he swept his hand around the bridge, “and asks, suggestions?”
Everyone looked back at him with blank stares and closed mouths.
“Yeah…I was afraid of that.”
---
Admiral Radin crouched down trying to get a better look through the complex maze of pipes, metal boxes and wires. Mixed in with all of it were his top ranking engineers. “So, why can’t we move the ship? What’s missing?” he asked.
The two men and one woman, all in dirty white overalls, looked at each other. The woman and one of the men were officers. They looked stressed and a little lost. Although the Loud I-Pills had made everyone around 30 years old, the other man seemed more relaxed and somehow older. He was a master sergeant.
But finally, it was the woman who answered, “Sir, basically all of the main propulsion drives on the other side of that bulkhead,” she pointed to stern, “They’re…well, gone. They are not there anymore—there’s nothing there but vacuum.”
“Okay,” Radin shot back. He looked at the top sergeant who he knew by name. “Kurt?”
“Sir?” the sergeant replied.
“How long before we can get underway?”
The woman looked down at her shoes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to hide her dark amusement at the outrageous question. The other officer rubbed his temples, squinting his eyes at the master sergeant.
The master sergeant answered Radin immediately, “It’ll be at least forty-eight hours, Admiral.”
At this, the two officers jerked their heads up and looked at the enlisted man as if he were crazy.
Admiral Radin said, “Thank you, Master Sergeant.” He got up, brushed off his pants, “Kindly keep me posted.” He then strode away.
The officers both said at the same time, “What? Are you crazy?”
The top sergeant looked at them and calmly replied, “Granted the re-routing of fuel lines, drilling through the bulkhead and securing them to it won’t take too long, but figuring out how to light those suckers
—short of stationing someone out there in a vac-suit with a cigarette lighter—that’ll take some time to figure out and implement.”
The woman said incredulously, “You mean your plan is to just let the rocket fuel flow through some pipe and out the rear bulkhead and then light it up?”
“I don’t see what else we can do,” Kirt replied. “The one thing I do know is that you never say, ‘cannot’ or ‘never’ to an Admiral. So, if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”
The two officers looked at each other and shook their heads in shock. Finally, one asked, “What kind of speed can we expect?”
Kirt shrugged, “The Admiral just said ‘underway’ without further specifications for a very good reason, sir. All I know is that my suggestion will move the ship. At what speed…or even in what direction…well, I’ve personally never tried it before. I don’t think anyone has ever tried it before. But, we will be underway.”
---
Radin strode onto the bridge and sat down in the center seat.
His first officer, Commander Nancy Boshear, turned to him, “How does it look, sir?”
“We’ll be limping along in a day or so, but The Bonnet is out of it. So we have twelve ships that can still follow and fight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Warbird is the closest ship to us if we want to transfer the flag to a battle ready ship?”
“Yes, sir. And doing that would delay her from reaching the target for at least three days,” Boshear said, answering Radin’s main concern before he voiced it.
“That’s just too long.” He sighed, “Okay, I’m sending them on without us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Boshear…”
“Sir?”
“The battleship Angel’s Flight saved herself by diving into Serena’s atmosphere—make sure we let everyone know that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Boshear…”
“Sir?”
“After that…have you had dinner yet?”
“No, sir,” she said, sporting a small smile for the first time in memory.
Chapter Sixteen – Above Amular
“We cannot know the shape of the universe—anything outside the universe is unknowable and, in general, you must be outside to conceive shape. However, we can reasonably assume what shape the universe takes. It’s a shape seen everywhere nature is allowed to take its course. Water takes this shape above a drain. A spiral galaxy forms this shape. The spiral is the shape that gravity takes—ergo, the shape of space-time, which, after all, is the universe.”
Countdown Amageddon (The Spiral Slayers Book 2) Page 34