“Is that right?” The captains were being chased by returning fire, enemy assault ships joining the spray of mines . Cfadiss, of course, also had work experience on a ship’s bridge , so he could imagine how bloodthirsty they were. Even the training exercises were so intense that he’d forget to breathe, and now they were embroiled in actual fighting.
“See, my dream was to be a patrol ship captain and square off with the enemy that way. But when I was a captain, there was no war, and now that there is a war, this is the boring role I’m stuck with. I can’t even retire until the war’s over. I wonder if I’ve any luck at all.”
Cfadiss sighed in his heart. I knew it. This IS a hobby to her.
“I believe I told you that look is insubordination,” she charged, wise to him.
A fresh supply of troops came bolting for them. One assault ship fused with the Hairbyrch ’s space-time. A brief alarm claxon sounded in the Commander’s Bridge , followed immediately by the tremors that came with the firing of the EM cannon .
The assault ship burst and shattered in an instant, bathing the Hairbyrch ’s sensors with a spray of charged particles that dwarfed any mere mine blast’s. It was akin to a solar wind at point-blank range.
Next to a scowling Cfadiss, Sporr hid a slight yawn with the back of her hand. “Ugh, it’s just so dull,” she muttered.
Tlife extolled her to high heaven. “A magnificent display, Associate Commodore Sporr!”
The enemy vanguard had split into two, scrambling the core of the enemy line into a tumult. At the center of that confusion, the Ftuné maintained its massed battle formation, and slowly continued flying straight ahead.
“Shoot every mine you’ve got right here!” Tlife pointed at the rift in the enemy vanguard with his command staff . “You can’t let them close back together again. Don’t leave the Ftuné to die!”
“Enemy space-time bubbles , azimuth: 010. Distance: 30. Will intersect with our course. Around 300 in number!” The assembly of space-time bubbles that appeared behind the battle-line warship unit attempted to immobilize the head of the Ftuné .
“They’re likely the enemy’s main force!” Cfadiss could virtually hear the blood drain from his body. “They’re pouring all of their backup forces at us. Commence evasive maneuvers at once!”
“Please, senior staff officer , I’ll ask you not to raise a fuss on my bridge .” She pointed to the space behind the map of flat space with her command staff . “Crunch the numbers. I want to know if we’ll make it in time.”
Countless blue dots — allied mines — came hurtling at maximum velocity.
“Yes, ma’am.” Nobody’s raising a fuss, least of all me! Through his anger, he input the directives into the computing crystals .
Red dotted lines appeared from the enemy lines, while blue dotted lines appeared from the herd of mines . They intersected with the front-right area of the Ftuné ’s future position.
“Stay the course,” Sporr commanded.
“Yes.” Though Cfadiss nodded, he’d not been made at ease just yet.
Allied mines flew past the Ftuné from its right, slamming into the enemy ships. The Ftuné ’s front-right had turned into a swinging dance hall, with mines attempting to fuse with the enemy ships playing hard to get. The enemy lines were in disarray as space-time bubbles floundered in their death throes, touching off localized high-density sectors all around.
Phew... Relieved, Cfadiss relaxed his shoulders. It was only then he realized how tense he’d been.
The enemy ships that had slipped away from the dance floor were hot on the Ftuné ’s heels, but they too were made to scatter one after the other. The center of the high-density sector was close now. The enemy unit of battle-line warships was before their very eyes.
“The enemy battle-line warship unit is making every effort to obstruct the Ftuné . They pose almost no threat to the main units,” said Cahyoor, analyzing the situation.
“All right. All ships prepare to attack,” said Tlife. “The Rocérh will wipe out their vanguard on the right. The Üacapérh will exterminate it on the left. The Byrdaimh and Citirec , they’ll follow me. And no dallying! Otherwise you’re gonna let the Ftuné take all the good bits!”
The enemy battle-line ships were beginning to retreat.
“You’re too slow,” Sporr murmured pityingly. Then she stood up. “Let’s go crush those ships on half-squadron units. Senior staff officer !”
“Yes.” Cfadiss took a step forward.
“I dislike toiling over the little details. I’d like you to point each squadron to their target.”
“Yes.” If you’re so dreadfully bored, then why don’t you do it yourself? But Cfadiss bottled those thoughts up and set about allotting each squadron to the enemy battle-line warship space-time bubbles .
“That’s right, we don’t need any to ourselves,” she said.
“Understood.” Having finished the task he was given and routed the designated targets he’d input to the communications staff officer , he had a question for her. “Have we become backup forces, too?”
“No. I’ll be taking that .” She gestured toward the map of flat space . It was a space-time bubble that had been stamped with the provisional number “661,” and situated all the way in the back of the battlefield.
Cfadiss referred to the course of the battle, and soon discovered that Space-time Bubble 661 had yet to fire a single round of mines . “That is believed to be a large transport freighter or something in that vein. Might it not be advisable to ignore it for now?”
“It could be yet more reserve forces using that as camouflage. It might be passing itself off as harmless, only to come for our heads at the very end. And we can’t have that, so I’d like to strike their front lines.”
“Yes.” That may very well be the case, Cfadiss thought.
“Just received confirmation: All squadrons have received respective target instructions,” said the communications officer.
“Excellent.” Sporr nodded, raising her command staff overhead with evident mirth. “All ships, fan out! The real party starts now, and you’d better brace yourselves for some fireworks! We are the Ftuné (Goddess of Dance), so show them how you command the stage!”
The rectangle that was the Ftuné came untied. Units of three patrol ships formed triangles, vertical columns, even diagonal columns, each prowling after its own prey.
If they strayed too far from each other, inter-bubble communication would become unavailable. As such, from here on out, Associate Commodore Sporr would fight as the joint commander of the flagship and its two attendant vessels.
“Relay the following to the captains . Veer to course: 015. Maintain complete mobile-state .”
The patrol ship Hairbyrch led two other patrol ships, zooming down from flat space from the high-density sector to the low-density sector where Space-time Bubble 661 idled.
“Space-time Bubble 661 now retreating,” said the casariac rilbicotr (navigation staff officer). “No other readings. Space-time fusion possible at 07:18 by ship’s time.”
“Shall we assume assault formation?” asked Cfadiss.
“No need. We’re just going to keep moving forward,” said Sporr, tapping her cheek lightly with the command staff .
A while later, the navigation officer had a report. “Ten minutes until space-time fusion .”
“Prepare for battle in normal space .” She issued her command almost as though she was talking to herself. Then she looked at Cfadiss. “What do you think?”
“About what?” said Cfadiss, confused.
“The enemy hasn’t transmitted an agac rétgacotr (signal of surrender). If it were really just a large transport freighter , they’d be surrendering about now. Looks like my hunch was right on the mark.”
“But they still haven’t fired any mines , not even now. How do you interpret that?”
“Beats me,” said Sporr, dismissing it in so many words. “They must be dealing with their own set of circumstances.”
“See? Here it comes,” Sporr nodded with a smile.
“Six assault ship space-time bubbles . Course: 345. Distance: 16. Approaching from in front. Relative speed: 375 astro-knots .”
“What did you say!?” Sporr’s smile stiffened. “They’re not mines ?”
“No, ma’am.”
Sporr bit her lip; something had her less than pleased. “Casariac tlachotr (gunner staff officer), tell me how many mines we have left.”
“This ship contains four; the Baugbyrch , four as well; and the Hasunbyrch , five. Thirteen in all, ma’am.”
“Thanks, I can do simple addition. Commence anterior mine battle . Fire all rounds and mow them down!”
The three patrol ships fired their mines out, and they split off from their time-space.
Thirteen against six. They had more than twice the number advantage. The enemy’s space-time bubbles didn’t stand a chance. Those bubbles were likely to be assault ships, which were quite weak to mine offensives.
The three patrol ships kept cruising as though nothing had happened.
“Senior staff officer ,” said Sporr.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“What do you think is the greatest sin a starpilot can commit?”
“Insubordination against a superior officer, I would think.” Cfadiss had answered in an ingratiating way without even meaning to, and he tumbled into a bout of self-loathing over it.
“No! The greatest sin is stupidity,” she said, surprising him. “Think about it. You can feel a great sense of responsibility, and you can carry out orders faithfully, but if you’re an idiot, then there’s nothing to be done. And what kind of fool would send six assault ships to bat away a trio of patrol ships ?”
“I see.” His commander understood the reason behind the glum mood, and Cfadiss nodded.
“I may be glib, but I’m no fool. I will never send my subordinates to meaningless deaths.”
“Yes.” But everybody operates under that same belief , he thought to himself. That being said, Sporr’s command style was indeed outstanding. Partly owing to his inexperience aboard a patrol ship unit, he hadn’t yet carried out much of any of his work duties as senior staff officer .
“My headquarters doesn’t need any idiots. This here Great Duchess of Laitpanh chooses her playmates. She just can’t choose who she plays against.”
Stared at by the crimson eyes of the Sporr , Cfadiss broke into a cold sweat. “I’ll work on becoming a more competent playmate.”
“You certainly have the potential.” Sporr’s lips curled into a faint little smile.
“One minute until space-time fusion !” said the navigation staff officer .
“Still no signal of surrender ,” added the communications staff officer .
“Navigation staff officer !” Sporr looked away from Cfadiss’s face. “Make it so that all three ships fuse with them at the same time.”
“Roger that.”
“Transmit the following to all ships. As soon as our space-times fuse, fire the EM cannons .” She was already immersing herself in her frocragh spatio-sensory perception in anticipation of the battle in normal space . Her eyes closed, Associate Commodore Sporr smiled, as though expecting some auspicious turn. “Now then, what’s waiting for us inside? I’m getting excited!”
“Ten seconds to space-time fusion . Eight. Seven. Six. Five...” the navigation officer counted down. “Four. Three. Two. One. Space-time fusion !”
The warning sound that accompanied the firing of the EM cannon reverberated through the ship’s bridge.
Cfadiss greatly expanded the scope of his frocragh . Now he could sense the enemy ship in front. It was giant, but it was alone.
“The signal of surrender !” shouted the communications staff officer . “It’s coming in via droch daimr (electromagnetic communication)...”
“Cease the offensive!” Sporr didn’t bother hearing out the rest. Her eyes flared open, and she stood up. “Call all ships to cease the offensive! Firing at a ship that has surrendered will dishonor the name of Sporr!”
Could’ve said it would dishonor the name of the Empire , or the Star Forces , even of the Abh, Cfadiss mused.
But her orders hadn’t made it in time. The Hasunbyrch fired its EM cannons . However, the shell self-destructed before it could reach the enemy ship.
“For heaven’s sake, why didn’t they send it out via inter-bubble communication . Did they really think they could get away?” she grumbled. “Transmit the following to the Baugbyrch . Raid, inspect, and take the enemy ship. Then have the Hasunbyrch follow me.”
The resident of Space-time Bubble 661 was a single large transport freighter. After confirming that, the flagship Hairbyrch split off from this space-time alongside the Hasunbyrch .
“The enemy battle-line warship unit has been near-totally wiped out,” reported Cfadiss.
“Oh.” Sporr seemed to think little of that news. Yet he could clearly tell she was concealing her disappointment.
“Your orders with regard to our course, ma’am,” asked Cfadiss.
“Course: 160, at complete mobile-state . We’re going back to where my ships are.”
“Yes.” Cfadiss relayed the orders to the captains .
He felt as though his opinion of his commander had improved considerably in a short space of time... but then he rationalized that as a momentary temptation by some dark force. Cfadiss had two, no, three things to get off his chest.
“That look is insubordination against a superior officer,” she said, her command staff pointed at his face.
“Yes, ma’am.” Cfadiss concluded that at this juncture, he’d better keep quiet.
Sporr was lost in thought, but when she noticed that he was still casting an interrogative gaze her way, it seemed she succumbed to the urge to explain herself, albeit only a little. She ruffled up the scarlet-blue hair that had been so diligently braided. “My hunches are off the mark sometimes, you know.”
The battle was over now. The only agents left on the battlefield were either allies, or surrendering enemies.
“A connecting vessel has arrived from the Ftuné ,” reported Kilo-commander Cahyoor.
“Oh?” Tlife nodded. “So, what’ve they got for us?”
“It seems they’ve taken the enemy’s bureaucrats prisoner.”
“Superb! That’s fantastic... but, why exactly were there bureaucrats on the battlefield?”
“It appears to be customary in the United Humankind for bureaucrats such as media spokespersons and battle cheerers to accompany soldiers into battle. They were in a large transport freighter near the Sfagnoff Gate .”
“Hm...” The way the UH did things was totally inscrutable to him. Tlife was pacing the bridge, but he halted in place once he realized no amount of contemplation would clear up their mysteries. “Oh well, whatever. We won.”
“Yes. Our victory was assured.”
“Too assured to take any thrill in it, but I’m glad in any case. Order all units to amass.”
“Roger.”
“Plus, let’s have the Ftuné do one last thing. After resupplying, they’re to leave for the Sfagnoff Gate at once. If there aren’t any forces left to contend with, they are to annex control over the marquessate ’s astrospace. Who’s worked the least throughout the battle?”
“Each half-fleet has fulfilled their responsibilities admirably...”
“I know that. I don’t mean to reprimand anybody, so just tell me.”
“If I’m forced to say...” Cahyoor cocked his head. “The Byrdaimh ’s kill rate was quite modest.”
“I see. Then leave the Byrdaimh to do all of the cleaning up.”
“Understood.”
The main casualties of the Tlife fleet that were ascertained at the end were as follows:
Ships sunk:
24 escort ships
17 assault ships
1 patrol ship
Serious damage:
51 escort ships
47 assault ships
5 patrol ship
Slight damage:
95 escort ships
117 assault ships
19 patrol ship
7 battle-line warships
Counting only sunken and heavily damaged ships, there were 145. Since the ships that were only lightly damaged could be repaired by daüsiac (construction ships) even while mobilized, these 145 ships were the only ones recorded as lost in the Tlife fleet ’s register of vessels. Though these were by no means minor figures — especially to the people aboard those ships and their families — they presented no impediment to the fleet’s overall martial power.
By comparison, of the 900 ships in the UH Peacekeepers’ Dispatch Fleet A, only 27 were operable, and all 27 had surrendered, to be plundered and looted by the Star Forces .
It was an overwhelming victory for the Imperial Star Forces .
The heavily damaged ships received temporary repairs, ships that could no longer sail under their own power were towed by construction ships, and they all left for the imperial capital , with the captured enemy ships taken there as well.
When the first stage of battlefield processing was complete, two rounds of mines were fired from the flagship Cairhdigh . Instead of antimatter bombs, however, these contained bouquets of flowers.
The moment their space-time bubble engines ran out of fuel and the mines turned into space-time particles and scattered, Commodore Tlife ordered a moment of silence for the dead, both allies and enemies.
As the majority of the dead were enemy soldiers, this gesture was as good as a declaration of victory for the Abh.
Chapter 4: Ïucrabh Frybarer (Battleground of the Empire)
“You think we’re delusional, don’t you?” said Marca.
“Huh? What makes you think that?” said Jinto, playing innocent.
They were on a mountain a thousand or so üésdagh from the city of Guzonh. Bill wasn’t present, as he was on the job, and if he up and disappeared in the middle of a delivery it’d raise some eyebrows. Besides, he had a living to make. With Bill absent, it was the four remaining members of the Clasbule Anti-Imperial Front (Marca, Undertaker, Min, and Daswani) who joined Jinto and Lafier on the side of the mainline as they all transferred onto the mechanical walker that was now climbing up the mountain.
The Return to Strange Skies (JNC Edition) Page 5