But, the joy of an unprotected enemy under their guns was to be short lived.
The great horde of Flying Devils and Harpoons was rapidly approaching their position. The Flight Controllers aboard the two Fleet Carriers and the Star-Cruisers began to issue instructions to extricate their charges from the combat zone. The Alliance left pincer was withdrawn first, the great right wing of the Bardomil fighter force looming large on the Scanner screens. The Eagle pilots on the left wing, took their chances at one last strafe on the M-Cruisers before opening the throttles fully and beating a retreat from the battle zone. The Eagles of the right wing, with a few more seconds’ grace, took their final shots at the vulnerable M-Cruisers before turning round and heading back to base.
On the War Table, Chulling watched as the right line of the Bardomil formation swung round to try to cut off the fleeing Eagles from the safety of their carrier ships. The Harpoons and Flying Devils failed, but did attempt a half-hearted pursuit before their Flight Controllers pulled them back. The Bardomil had learned that flying into the hundreds of self-defence turrets that mushroomed up on a Star-Cruiser was a one-way ticket to the graveyard.
With the Bardomil breaking off the pursuit of the Eagles, Chulling had bought the Alliance some breathing space. The Flying Devils and Harpoons would have to return to their stations, whilst the M-Cruiser cordon would have to wait for their reinforcements to bolster their ranks for the next assault. Over forty M-Cruisers had been eliminated. And, although the Eagle raid had achieved very little in terms of damage, it had disrupted the Bardomil advance. Both the Alliance and Bardomil forces had halted to draw breath whilst Chulling worked out his next move. It wouldn’t be long before the Bardomil would wish to continue their hostilities and Chulling needed a Plan B. His initial idea of conducting a ‘turkey-shoot’ was in ruins. This invasion force was going to need to be handled with finesse and guile rather than brute gunfire whilst standing behind the force-shielding.
In a straight pounding match, there was a very strong likelihood the Bardomil would win, so Chulling knew that he would have to use the advantage of home territory to weaken his opponent. He decided reluctantly that he was going to have to give ground and abandon his position on the frontier. Turning to the War Table, Chulling called up the three dimensional schematic of the Praxos system. Seven, barren, lifeless planetary bodies snapped into crystal clear view above the War Table. The first two outer planets, Sartek and Demlar, offered no strategic or tactical advantage. The third outer planet, Valnarim, however, was a large gas giant like Jupiter in the Terran system. And, with the realisation of Valnarim’s potential, Chulling began to formulate his plan.
“Are the Eagles recovered yet?” Chulling asked the WATO.
“Nearly, sir,” the WATO indicated that the last squadrons were circling their carrier ships ready to return to their hangers.
“Very well, once they’re back, instruct all vessels to rendezvous at Valnarim,” Chulling ordered, “Engineers status on Ticonderoga?”
“Ticonderoga has just completed critical damage repairs, sir,” the Engineering Officer confirmed.
“Does she have Trion Drive capability?” Chulling questioned.
“That’s an affirmative, sir,” the Engineering Officer said proudly.
The Engineers aboard the Ticonderoga had performed near miraculous feats of repair to bring her main power back to a functional level.
“Good,” Chulling responded, “get those Trion Drives warmed up and plot coordinates for Valnarim, standard dispersal protocol,” Chulling instructed.
The Trionic Web was a constantly fluctuating entity. The frequency at which Trions resonated in any fixed area was far from stable or static. Gravitational changes or radiation spikes could minutely alter the frequency of the Trions in that area. It had always been standard protocol for Alliance ships entering the Trionic Web to exit some one hundred thousand kilometres distant from each other to avoid disastrous collisions on emergence.
Aboard the Memphis, the energy hungry Trion Generators were drawing power from the proto-star reactors to create the Trion field around the vessel. The great loud whirring of the generators manufacturing the specifically-tuned Trion Field warned the crew that they were about to move almost twenty-five million kilometres in the time it took a person to blink.
“The New Thexxia and the Leonidas have entered the Trionic Web, sir,” the Scanner Officer reported that the two Fleet Carriers had moved on to the next location.
On the War Table image, two blinding flashes indicated the departure of the two Carriers.
“Caractacus, Clemenceau, Valiant and Icarus are leaving, sir,” the Scanner Officer continued as four more bright flashes showed the continuing Alliance retreat.
“Sir!” another Scanner Technician called out, “enemy approaching again!”
Chulling cursed softly under his breath as twelve M-cruisers broke out of the cordon that they had been holding. The Bardomil commander, Grattus Darrien, had seen the first of the Alliance vessels moving out into the Trionic Web and had flung his only fully operational M-Cruisers at the fleeing Star-Cruisers.
“They’re opening fire!” the Scanner Technician warned.
On the War Table image, four trios of M-Cruisers fired at the Alliance position with one laser bolt striking the Memphis; which shuddered violently under the impact. The other three bolts struck the Ticonderoga.
“Ticonderoga’s hit, sir,” the Comms Technician called out, “main power lost and the proto-star containment chambers are failing, sir.”
“Get those people out!” Chulling barked, “Navigation, get us between her and the enemy!” he ordered urgently.
With the Memphis immediately beginning to execute a painfully slow turn to try to protect the badly damaged Star-Cruiser, the Ship’s Commander on the Ticonderoga ordered an immediate ‘abandon ship’. The crew members on Ticonderoga dashed to their emergency stations as the Ship’s Commander took over the Navigation Console in his Command Cabin. With every last ounce of reserve power he pushed his doomed ship away from the rest of the Alliance formation and tried to build up some distance.
“Get them out!” Chulling urged the crew of the Ticonderoga to abandon the stricken warship.
But as Chulling willed the two thousand souls aboard the Ticonderoga into their Escape Capsules, the force-shielding around the Containment Vessels for the proto-star matter, finally failed. The proto-star matter, liberated from the confines of the ship, burst free, in a massive cataclysmic explosion that vapourised the Ticonderoga and everyone aboard her. The flash from the liberated proto-star matter was so brilliant that the entire War Room of the Memphis was dazzled. Even General Grattus Darrien, on his flagship, had to shield his eyes from the colossal explosion.
The remaining Star-Cruisers were buffeted by the blast, but had survived because of the Ticonderoga’s Ship’s Commander’s heroism. With his last breaths he had managed to push the doomed vessel far enough away to save the remaining Star-Cruisers. When the blast wave had passed the Memphis, Chulling looked sadly at his War Table image and saw that a new star had been born on the very edge of the Praxos system.
In the years to come, this new celestial body would be called…Ticonderoga.
Chapter 31
The Terran System
“Sir!” the alarmed Flight Surgeon announced “Spearhead One is down!”
“What!?” Marrhus Lokkrien shouted; the news that he dreaded the most finally manifesting to a horrifying, blood-chilling reality.
But, with that news, Lokkrien knew that he had to take charge of the situation and that billions of lives were now in his hands. He had to set his emotions aside and act quickly to avert disaster.
“Over-ride control commands on Spearhead One!” Lokkrien rapidly snapped out the orders, “full power to the force-shielding, everything we’ve got to all sectors,” he barked, “every ounce of power we have…is Billy still alive?!”
“Sir,” the Senior Engineer shouted, “we can’t hold t
his configuration for long!”
“We won’t have to, it’s nearly over!...Flight Surgeon!?” Lokkrien called out his reply over the shuddering and clamour of the War Room.
“Spearhead One is still alive, sir!” the Fight Surgeon confirmed, “but, his vital signs are weak, we have to get him out of there!”
“Engineers can we teleport him out!?” Lokkrien shouted as the Aquarius shuddered once more under the impact.
“Negative, sir!” the Senior Engineer replied, “There’s just too much radiation, and we can’t get through the force-shielding on the vessel!”
Silently, Lokkrien cursed. He knew that he couldn’t teleport Billy Caudwell to safety, and he had to leave the Black Rose in-situ to hold the protective umbrella in place. For the moment, Billy would just have to hang on in there and ride out this particular storm until he could be retrieved. The horrible churning sensation in the pit of his stomach did nothing to make the decision any easier for Lokkrien. They all just had to hunker down and hope and pray that they could weather the super-heated tempest that was being thrown at them.
“We’re at full power to the force-shielding!” the Senior Engineer reported.
“Have you put Aquarius into the grid!?” Lokkrien challenged.
“Yes, sir!” the Senior Engineer responded, “we’ve thrown in everything, there’s nothing in reserve!”
As soon as the Senior Engineer spoke, the buffeting on the umbrella intensified. Whereas Billy had carefully directed the power to the sectors of the force-shielding to deflect the super-heated material away, Lokkrien now had no such control. He could only push full power over the whole of the force-shielding. The violent jolts and tremors of the final waves of plasma striking the force-shielding would now be transferred to all of the vessels in the umbrella. The enormous Star-Destroyers were going to be particularly vulnerable to these hugely magnified shock waves, and Lokkrien quietly prayed that their colossal structures could stand up to the beating. With the plasma waves crashing into the fully powered force-shielding, the concussions began to batter the vessels as they gallantly held their positions in the face of such a fearful enemy.
Inside the War Room of the Aquarius, Lokkrien felt like he was in a tin can that was being pulverised by heavy hammers. Every concussion seemed to be echo around the great cavernous battle centre. The shuddering also seemed to intensify. Yet, the War Room staff all stayed doggedly at their posts. With grim professionalism, they held their stations, monitored their consoles, passed on their vital information and prayed that they would survive this terrifying maelstrom.
Looking round the War Room, for the first time, Lokkrien started to feel fear. For a moment, there was an air of unreality as he watched the Officers and Technicians trying to go about their duties. In those moments, everything seemed to slow down for Lokkrien. Small details suddenly sprang into focus. One female Technician, sitting at her console, was wearing a glittering necklace. An Officer was resting is hand on a colleagues shoulder trying to keep him calm and give him encouragement. Little details, that he normally wouldn’t have noticed, now seemed important to Lokkrien.
However, the reality of the situation quickly imposed itself upon Lokkrien. Time, once again sped up as one of the front row consoles, no longer able to stand the buffeting and shaking, finally gave up and exploded in a great cascade of sparks and flame. The Officer seated at the stricken console caught the full impact of the explosion and was flung backwards from her seat onto the hard metal floor. Before she had even hit the floor, the fire suppressant gas burst upwards from beneath the console to stifle any flames or power surges as the safety protocol shut the malfunctioning station down. The Officer’s supervisor dashed over to the fallen operator and quickly assessed her for injuries. Down on the Hospital Decks, the already overstretched Medical Technicians would be receiving distress calls from the War Room.
“Get her to the Hospital Deck!” Lokkrien called as the Officer’s supervisor started to help the injured operator unsteadily to her feet.
No sooner had she risen to her feet; leaning on her supervisors shoulders than another Technician was at the console trying to repair it. The injured operator, a nasty burn on her face, was led away by the supervisor despite the jostling.
“All vessels are starting to report structural damage, sir!” the senior Engineer reported, “We have to withdraw or we’ll be shaken apart!”
“No!” Lokkrien barked, “We hold this position as long as we can, how long until this is over!?”
“Another two minutes, sir!” the Scanner Technician replied, “We’re just about to hit the tail!”
The Sun, having been agitated by the Bardomil emitter, had thrown out one last intense burst of super-heated plasma before settling back down to its normal, more docile, state. This was what the vulnerable force-shielding umbrella would now have to survive.
“Can you hold us together for two more minutes!?” Lokkrien demanded.
“I don’t know, sir!” the Senior Engineer shouted in response, “I just don’t know!!”
“Well, we’re just about to find out aren’t we!?” Lokkrien added, “Brace yourselves everyone!”
Throughout the War Room, personnel sought what little safety and support that they could find. Most of the Officers and Technicians simply crouched beneath their consoles, like beasts hiding from a great storm.
The impact came a few moments later and was more intense than their original entry into the plasma stream. The massive concussions shook and rattled all of the Alliance craft, throwing personnel from their stations like rag dolls cast around by a petulant child. Lokkrien, flung off his feet by the impact, felt himself being swept across the War Room floor and landing heavily amongst the first bank of consoles. Around him, the War Room personnel were all undergoing a similar ordeal. Trying to rise to his feet, Lokkrien saw another console explode in a shower of dazzling sparks as a Technician was flung backwards into the row behind. A young woman screamed as she too was thrown into the air by an impact. Managing to get to his feet, Lokkrien lurched into the first row of consoles. Trying to impose any form of order and command on the situation, he knew, would be impossible. They would just have to try to survive as best they could. The only thing Lokkrien felt that he could usefully do was try to help those around him.
Stumbling amongst the consoles, Lokkrien caught a stumbling female Technician as she fell towards him. Catching her, Lokkrien felt the impact jarring most of the bones in his body. For a moment, the young woman stared in horror at him. Then, he realised that she was a Thexxian.
“Get under here!” he ordered, pushing the young woman under one of the consoles before moving on to see whom else he could help.
Lurching into the second row, another console exploded showering Lokkrien in sparks as he held up his arm to protect his face. A voice called out in terror as a body flew past.
Aboard the Black Rose, the unconscious Billy lay in the high-backed command chair, his head lolling backwards, whilst in front of him on the centre screen all five sectors were lit up and the power use bars were all deeply into the red zone with the word ‘CRITICAL’ flashing in yellow above the now-static bars.
Then, as quickly as the violent shaking had started, it stopped as the last of the super-charged plasma was cast harmlessly off into space.
On the Aquarius, Lokkrien was one of many who sat in the momentary peace and silence wondering what was going to happen next. Then, real life kicked in. Some of the injured War Room personnel started to groan and yell for help as comrades began to drag themselves, painfully and wearily, out of their hiding places and re-establish connections at their consoles. People were, shakily, rising to their feet once more and trying to restore some kind of normality. Fire extinguishers were activating adding a pall of harmless gas to the dust and debris of the shambles that was once the First Admiral’s War Room.
Amidst the devastation of the War Room, Lokkrien took immediate command.
“Get the injured to the Hospital Dec
ks! Call in the replacement crews!” he began amongst the debris and the groaning.
“Comms, I want back on the network, priority!” he shouted towards the Communications consoles.
“Engineers, get those damage assessments made fast!” he called out as he started to help an Engineering Officer to her feet.
“And, someone get a rescue boat out to the First Admiral now!” he yelled the loudest.
Chapter 32
The Star-Cruiser Aquarius
Having been pulled from the Control Cabin of the Black Rose, Billy Caudwell was barely able to recognise the harsh antiseptic smell of the Hospital Deck that he had been brought to. Strangely, he felt that the radiation burns to his face and hands were giving him no pain or discomfort. The Medical Officers who hovered around his Med-Bed, however, knew that this was the sign of a serious injury. Even the protective force-shielding of the Personal Environment Suit, lying on the floor next to the Med-Bed, had been unable to defend Billy from the full harshness of the sun’s fury. The deep, angry red welts on his face were interrupted by patches of pale waxy white flesh where the tissue had been completely killed off. The gathered Medical Officers had heartily concurred that it had been a miracle that his eyes had not been damaged.
Sitting up on his elbows in the Med-Bed that hovered about a metre from the ground, Billy was only just able to focus on the hive of activity that surrounded him. Medical Officers seemed to congregate like undertakers at a deathbed, whispering and arguing amongst themselves.
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