A Show of Force

by Ryk Brown

  “Aft shield strength?” Captain Navarro inquired calmly.

  “All aft shields are at one hundred percent,” Lieutenant Rogal replied.

  “They’ll never make it through our shields,” Commander Golan said.

  “No, they won’t,” the captain agreed. “But they can keep our point-defense otherwise occupied while they send gunships to jump within our shields and take out shield emitters. It seems our dear friend Captain Tenore is upping the ante.” Captain Navarro turned toward his weapons officer. “Retarget all main guns onto the Tontakeen’s number six dorsal shield, and fire them all simultaneously.”

  “Retargeting all main guns, aye,” Lieutenant Rogal replied.

  “Prepare a missile barrage for the Tontakeen as well. Twelve missiles, full yields,” the captain added.

  “Aye, sir.”

  “A bit much, don’t you think?” Commander Golan suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Captain Navarro admitted, “but it never hurts to send a strong message. I wouldn’t want anymore ‘misunderstandings’ between us.”

  “All main batteries locked on the Tontakeen’s number six dorsal shield,” Lieutenant Rogal announced.

  “Fire all batteries, single round.”

  “Firing a single round on all batteries,” the lieutenant replied.

  Captain Navarro waited several seconds before issuing another order. “Fire your missiles, Lieutenant.”

  “Firing missiles.”

  “Retarget all main batteries onto the Juda and resume firing,” Captain Navarro ordered.

  “Missile impacts in one minute,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported.

  “Retargeting all weapons to the Juda,” Lieutenant Rogal acknowledged.

  “Tontakeen’s number six dorsal shield has collapsed, Captain,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported. “She’s firing point-defenses.”

  “Lieutenant Rogal, one gun on the Tontakeen’s port point-defense array, if you will.”

  “Targeting the Tontakeen’s port point-defense array,” the lieutenant replied.

  “You’re just toying with him,” Commander Golan realized.

  “A cruiser, against a capital ship?” Captain Navarro replied. “Of course I’m toying with him, Commander. I never much cared for House Tenore, myself.”

  “Starboard ventral gun locked onto the Tontakeen’s port point-defense array,” Lieutenant Rogal announced.

  “Open fire.”

  “Firing.”

  “Long-range cameras on the Tontakeen, maximum magnification. On my screen,” Captain Navarro ordered. The center view screen in his overhead display array switched from the tactical display to the view from one of the Avendahl’s long-range cameras. A stream of energy bolts from the Avendahl’s starboard ventral plasma turret pounded the Tontakeen’s point-defense array, blowing it to pieces as it plowed into her armored hull.

  “Tontakeen’s port point-defense array is down,” Lieutenant Cahnis announced. “Four missiles still inbound to target. Impact in twenty seconds.”

  “Cease fire, Lieutenant,” Captain Navarro directed. “Retarget back to the Juda and continue firing.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Impact in five seconds.”

  Captain Navarro watched the center view screen as their missiles struck the Tontakeen, detonating in brilliant white flashes of light. After a few seconds, the light faded, revealing only portions of the Tontakeen floating harmlessly in space.

  Captain Navarro sighed.

  “A thousand men just died on that ship,” Commander Golan commented soberly. “Takaran men.”

  “Men who chose to serve House Tenore,” Captain Navarro added. “Men betrayed by a leader who decided his own wealth and power were more important than the lives of those who volunteered to serve under him.” He turned to look at Commander Golan. “Let us not lose sight of that fact, Commander.” The captain turned toward his communications officer. “Get me the Juda’s captain.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Captain Navarro turned back toward his XO. “I will offer the Juda’s crew a chance to live. Let us hope Captain Walkly has more brains than Captain Tenore.”

  Major Bellen bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time. At the top of the first flight, he turned briefly and sprayed the staircase behind him with both rifles, sending a shower of energy bolts into the pursuing Ybarans, before continuing up the next flight.

  “Rain on them!” he demanded as he came up the last flight.

  Casimir and two of the major’s men leaned over the rail and opened up on the flight below, striking their Ybaran attackers in the heads and shoulders, but their armor was of Ghatazhak design, and quite effective. A few men fell as energy weapons fire found the nooks and grooves that exist in all body armor, while others were forced to turn back after multiple strikes heated up their armor to intolerable levels. However, their numbers were too great to be held off by only five guns.

  Within seconds, the amount of enemy fire flying up at them from below was too much, and they were forced to fall back from the railing and seek safety further down the corridor.

  Major Bellen and his men continued firing downward over the railing for a few more seconds, allowing Casimir, Deliza, and Yanni enough time to get partway down the corridor. “Fall back!” the major yelled. He turned and headed down the corridor, as did one of his men. The third man tried to continue firing a bit too long, and took an energy bolt in the face, killing him instantly and sending him toppling backwards.

  Major Bellen did not turn and look at the fallen man. He recognized the sound and smell of burning flesh. It was a very different sound when an energy bolt found a soft, human target.

  No longer encumbered by enemy fire, the Ybaran Legion soldiers came charging up the stairs in pairs, moving quickly down the corridor after reaching the top.

  Major Bellen stood in a doorway on one side of the intersection, looking across at his man standing on the other side, both of them out of view of the approaching Ybarans. The major listened, trying to make out the footsteps of the enemy as they advanced down the corridor in cautious yet expeditious fashion.

  Finally, the major pointed one of his weapons around the corner and opened fire, without sticking his body out in the open. His man on the opposite side did the same, sweeping the corridor with bolts of energy.

  Although several Ybarans fell to the enemy fire, some had anticipated the attack, and quickly dropped to the floor to avoid the initial attack. They immediately opened up, concentrating on the edges of the intersection, forcing their attackers to withdraw lest they risk losing both their weapon and their hands to Ybaran fire.

  Major Bellen began backing away from the corner as quickly as possible, both rifles still aimed at the intersection from which he withdrew, knowing that at any moment, the Ybarans would come charging around the corner, weapons blazing. He could see his last man escaping around the far corner at the other end of the hallway, on the opposite side of the intersection, following the same route that Casimir and the others had taken only moments ago.

  The Ybarans did not disappoint. They came charging around the corner, throwing themselves willingly into the major’s energy bolts. Despite all he knew about the Ybarans’ aggressive nature, their willingness to die in battle never ceased to amaze him.

  His first few shots struck true, finding weaknesses in the Ybaran armor that could only be taken advantage of at such close range. Three soldiers immediately fell, leaving a clear shot into the backs of two others who were chasing after his man on the other side of the intersection. They too fell, as his precise fire found the gap between the bottom of the Ybarans’ helmets and the tops of their field packs.

  They were the last Ybarans that the major would ever kill. No less than six energy bolts found Major Bellen’s face, chest, left arm, and abdomen. One moment, he was fighting bravely, the next he was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in agonizing pain as he fought to draw breath. He felt the Ybarans rip his rifles from his hands. He could hear them pass h
im by and continue down the corridor, no doubt looking for the very souls the major would die to protect. In a moment, he had gone from being the Ybarans’ number one priority, to being a mound of smoldering flesh on the battlefield. Ybarans enjoyed leaving enemy combatants to suffer a slow lingering death.

  As he gasped for air, the major heard more weapons fire, but not from the direction he had expected. The exchange became even more ferocious than before, and he could hear the sound of Ybaran soldiers falling to the floor. He could hear the satisfying sounds of Ybarans screaming in the same agony that he felt, but was unable to express.

  Then the sounds ceased.

  There was a rustle of boots, swift and sure. No rattle of chaos, just smooth and practiced motions. The major could feel himself slipping away, his peripheral vision fading. Then a face… someone familiar.

  “Major,” the voice called. “Where did they go?”

  Major Bellen summoned all his strength to move just his eyes… just enough to see Commander Erbe.

  “Casimir and the others,” the commander said. “We must find them.”

  Major Bellen muttered as best he could. “Balcony… library.” After that, his vision faded, leaving only his hearing, distant and faint as it was.

  “You fought bravely, today, Major,” the commander said, “with honor and…”

  “You have already lost, you just have yet to realize it,” Captain Walkly said over the vid-link to the Avendahl’s captain.

  “I dispatched Tontakeen with ease,” Captain Navarro replied with smug confidence, “I had hoped that you would be wiser than the late Captain Tenore. I can see now that I was mistaken.”

  “Your only mistake was in choosing to back Casimir Ta’Akar,” Captain Walkly stated before ending the transmission.

  “Another fool,” Captain Navarro mumbled. “Weapons, target the Juda, all guns. Let’s end this now.”

  “Targeting all guns to the Juda,” Lieutenant Rogal acknowledged.

  “The Juda’s chief engineer was not present that evening,” Commander Golan mused. “The Juda may be more challenging to destroy.”

  “Captain!” Lieutenant Cahnis interrupted. “New contacts! Coming out of the Pallax shipyards! It’s the Crippin and the Astaire!”

  “How long until they are clear of their bays?” the captain asked urgently.

  “Two minutes,” the lieutenant replied.

  “Weapons, cancel last,” Captain Navarro ordered. “Helm, put us in their path, ten kilometers out. Communications, prepare a broadcast on all Takaran fleet channels.”

  “Changing course now,” the helmsman replied. “Jump to intercept in ninety seconds.”

  “Broadcast ready, sir,” the communications officer replied.

  “Open channel,” the captain ordered. “Crippin and Astaire, stand down immediately or be destroyed. You have one minute to comply.” Captain Navarro gestured to end the transmission. “How long until they receive?”

  “Forty seconds, sir,” the communications officer replied.

  “Close enough,” Commander Golan commented.

  “Weapons, anticipate your angles,” the captain ordered. “I want our guns firing seconds after we complete the intercept jump. Be ready for a starboard standard combat turn as we fire.”

  “Twenty seconds to jump point,” the jump master announced.

  “Load ship-to-ship missiles, set for short range, full yields.”

  “They cannot raise shields until they are clear from their ports,” Commander Golan realized, a sinister smile on his face.

  “They could, but they would damage the port’s proximity sensors. Those ports are the property of House Seto, and I’m betting that Captain Seto will not want to damage his father’s prize possession.”

  “Ten seconds to jump.”

  “Captain Yoo may not be as considerate,” the commander warned.

  “Jumping in three…”

  “One can hope,” Captain Navarro replied.

  “…One……jump.”

  “Targets dead ahead, ten kilometers,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported.

  “Open fire, both targets,” Captain Navarro ordered.

  “Astaire is raising shields,” the lieutenant added.

  “Firing guns!” Lieutenant Rogal announced. “Locking missiles on targets.”

  “Astaire is charging her jump emitters!” Lieutenant Cahnis warned.

  “She’s not even out of port yet!” Commander Golan exclaimed. “I thought their jump drives were not yet ready?”

  “Ready, but not tested,” Captain Navarro corrected.

  “Firing missiles!”

  “A daring fellow,” Captain Navarro continued. “Show me the Crippin.”

  The center view screen in the display array overhead switched to the camera tracking the Crippin. Rail gun fire slammed into her hull, sending fragments out in all directions.

  “Astaire is jumping away!” the lieutenant added. “Missile impacts with the Crippin in three……two……one……”

  The view screen became white as multiple warheads detonated on impact.

  “Direct hits!” the lieutenant reported. “Assessing damage.”

  “Continue your turn,” the captain ordered. “Bring us back around to return to Takara.”

  “Multiple hull breaches, loss of life support on several decks,” Lieutenant Cahnis reported. “Two of her reactors are offline, including her ZPED. She can still maneuver, but she’s not going to be jumping anywhere, or offering up much of a fight.”

  “Cease fire,” Captain Navarro ordered. “I believe Seto has learned his lesson. Now, let’s go offer some instruction to Captain Walkly.”

  Commander Erbe and his men moved quickly down the hallway of the upper floor of House Ta’Akar. As they passed each doorway, two men would enter the room and check for occupants, friend or foe. Behind them, they could hear the exchange of weapons fire as the Ghatazhak element guarding the stairwell tried to keep the next wave of Ybarans from ascending, thus buying Commander Erbe and his team the time they needed to locate and secure Casimir and Deliza Ta’Akar.

  “These Ybarans are like rabid pahkta!” the sergeant called over the commander’s helmet comms. “We cannot hold this position for long, there are too many of them!”

  “Orin, Erbe,” the commander called over his comms. “Status?”

  “We’ve made it to the northeast corner of the main house!” Sergeant Orin replied. “Lost eight men getting here, though. Where would you like us?”

  “Work your way around to the service entrance on the north side,” Commander Erbe ordered. “Enter through the kitchen and pinch them in crossfire in the south main stairway. Then blow both the main stairways.”

  “Understood.”

  “Dumont, Erbe. Orin will take them from below. Pinch them in a crossfire. Mow them down. Orin will blow both stairways so no one can reach the second level.”

  “Yes, sir!” the sergeant acknowledged.

  Commander Erbe reached the library door, taking position on one side with his back against the wall. Two more men took up position on the other side, while a third man stepped up and kicked the door in, immediately stepping to his right to avoid fire.

  A dozen bolts of energy came flying out through the open library doorway, striking the opposite wall and sending bits and pieces of debris everywhere, while setting the wall paper on fire.

  “This is Commander Erbe of the Ghatazhak!” the commander yelled from beside the open doorway. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

  “Show yourselves!” Casimir hollered from inside the library.

  Commander Erbe stepped slowly into the doorway, his weapon still held high and ready to fire. His movements were well practiced and precise, with no wasted efforts. As soon as he saw Casimir and the security officer, he lowered his weapon and entered the room. “Sire, we must get you and your people to safety. The grounds are crawling with Ybaran Legion troops. They surround the compound and invade your lands as we speak.” The commander mov
ed across the room, swinging the balcony doors open. As he stepped out onto the balcony, several bolts of energy slammed into the door frame above, and the walls to either side of him. The commander did not flinch, instead raising his weapon and returning fire with pinpoint accuracy, dropping three of the four shooters with three single shots from his energy rifle.

  “The Ybarans are lousy shots,” the commander said as he returned to the library from the balcony, “but they are everywhere. If we try to reach the ground from here, one of them is bound to get lucky.”

  “We can’t go back down the stairs,” the security guard said.

  “No, we cannot. They are filled with Ybarans. My men are trying to hold them at bay, but they have orders to blow the stairs on both sides of the foyer.”

  “How will we get down?” Yanni wondered.

  “The roof?” Deliza realized.

  “Indeed,” Commander Erbe agreed.

  “Or we can stay, and fight,” Casimir suggested.

  “Normally, as a Ghatazhak, I would agree with you,” the commander said. “However, the attack is not against your property, sire. It is against you and your family. The nobles want control, and the only way they can forever be guaranteed that control is through your deaths. The prevention of that is what my men and I are fighting for, this day.”

  “I thought you had several platoons,” Casimir argued, “awakened from the storage array…”

  “Six hundred men added to my own, for a total of eight hundred,” the commander said, “against untold thousands of Ybarans.”

  “There cannot be more than a thousand out there,” Casimir insisted. “Surely your men can take them?”

  “Now there are only a thousand,” Commander Erbe replied, “but there are thousands more still on Ybara. Thousands of trained soldiers who are barely surviving on a world that was marginalized by your brother. Those are the men who the nobles will use to defeat you. If we stand and fight, here and now, those men will surely come by the thousands, and this conflict will escalate into a full-blown civil war, resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands if not more.”