by Z H Brown
Minos turned slightly to acknowledge Ansaria’s arrival. “At last the day has come, eh, captain?”
Ansaria’s only response was a silent nod. She stepped up to stand next to the admiral, the master control console before them both.
As if sensing her unease, Minos turned to look at her fully. “Just remember, Ansaria, I’ll be right beside you to help in any way I can. Don’t worry; I won’t let you smash the fleet into each other.”
Ansaria laughed, and though it had only been minutes ago with her friends that she had last laughed, it still seemed like it had been a lifetime since she had done so. She took another steadying breath.
“All right. Let’s get started.”
The carrier ship Mountain Storm had been the primary fighter carrier throughout the war against the Imperium. The capital ship had been deployed to dozens of systems, and had been involved in more battles than could be listed in an afternoon. That they were now serving in a unified fleet with the enemy that had tried to destroy them for nearly forty years was not lost on its crew. But they were loyal to their emperor and their empire, and they would serve both faithfully. The ship (which was massive compared to most of those around it though was still dwarfed by the Throneship parked in orbit at the other end of the system), was ovoid-shaped with four, mutli-tiered launch bays, two on the top and two on the bottom. A smattering of long range weapons was positioned near the bow of the vessel, but most of its armaments were close-ranged, defensive weaponry, meant to destroy enemy fighters and missiles.
Deep within the center of the vessel, Sergeant Tread was plugging himself into a special chair that connected to the control system of his remote fighters. The crafts were all waiting silently in a hangar far ‘above’ him, their basic electronic brains unsusceptible to the dread gripping the soldiers of the Empire. As the last connector was inserted, fully linking him with the system, Tread patiently waited to switch over from his viewpoint aboard the ship, to the twelve craft that he would operate like a dozen limbs at once. The technicians assisting him would tell him when to make the switch, so for now, all he could do was wait.
Far below where Tread was connected aboard the vessel, Critter was on the flight deck of the mobile weapons bay, testing his pilot suit to make sure everything was in order. Around him, the deck was abuzz with activity as mechanics and crewmembers worked fervently to ensure that every machine was in working order, every ammo counter reading full, and every pilot present and accounted for. Critter watched impatiently as organic, synthetic and automated workers went over every inch of his battle suit, their reverence for the pilot and his squad making them work all the more diligently.
Finally, he got the go-ahead, and the tiny soldier lifted off in the low gravity of the hangar, flying like a small, furry projectile towards his suit. Two crewmembers assisted in strapping him in and triple-checking the safety straps. Once they were satisfied, the cockpit closed, and Critter was plunged into near darkness, the dim glow of his powered-down readouts his only light. He activated his TIG and set it to the frequency broadcasting from the Throneship. When the moment finally came, he would hear about it personally.
Compared to the Mountain Storm, the Firestorm was a much younger vessel. Designed and constructed during the latest lull in battle between the Empire and the Imperium, the ship’s youth did not equate to inexperience. The Firestorm, and its unique primary weapon, had been used successfully against both insurgent forces and Imperium fleets.
Similar to the Throneship and its Lancer, the Firestorm had been constructed around the massive, three-pronged plasma cannon. The command bridge was located between the two top prongs of the weapon, leaving the front half of the ship comprised purely of the special weapons barrel, with the rest of the ship and its interior comprising the back half. The vast majority of Imperial vessels were gray, white, or silver, and the Firestorm was no different; however, it did have one design flare to signify its unique status: a long stripe of blood-red color running down the middle of each prong and along both sides of the ship.
As soon as he appeared aboard the bridge, Slog saluted Captain Krum the Crag, who had commanded the vessel throughout its entire deployment, before making his way to his gunner spot. He slid into the large seat, shifting slightly to find the comfortable rut he had formed for himself during long hours of simulated and live-firing exercise. As he wrapped his hands around the controls, he waited somewhat impatiently for the final diagnostic run to finish. When it finally ended and announced that all systems were at one-hundred percent, Slog set his jaw, stretched his robotic arm, than began syncing the targeting sights with the helmsman.
The lift doors opened and Alvara found herself on the familiar bridge of the Throneship. While the Gorgonian had been expecting a veritable cadre of officials to be standing by for whatever reason, the bridge was occupied by only the usual bridge crew, Xandarius in his throne, and Guard Captain Fornost and Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest standing on each side of their lord. Administrator Epsilon had been ferried away by the speediest Z-space capable ship in the fleet. She was remaining in constant contact with the defenders after establishing a dedicated technological and telepathic link with the thankfully-recovered Communications Officer Diamond. Queen Zira and Shield Fleet would be receiving a real-time relay of the events.
As Alvara slithered over to her place beside Weapons Officer Tantius, who had the same sour look on his face he’d had since he’d been told he would not be firing the most powerful weapon in the Empire, her eyes were locked on Xandarius. The Emperor was staring out into space, with a look of such intensity that it seemed like he was trying to peer across the billions and billions of light-years to see the Star Eater in its own, hellish galaxy. She finally looked away when Tantius informed her that the targeting apparatus was securely installed.
Alvara was calibrating Tantius’ work to better suit her own firing technique, when Diamond announced to the bridge:
~Your Majesty, we are receiving an incoming signal from the Bronze Network.~
“Display it,” commanded Xandarius, his voice tense and clipped.
As it had before, the trapezoid-shaped image of the red and black eye of the extragalactic A.I. BRONZE appeared on the dome displaying stars in nearly every direction.
If BRONZE was in anyway apprehensive or excited about the culmination of a plan millennia in the making, it did not reflect in its voice, as it spoke in the same unchanging synthetic manner it had since they had met it in the asteroid.
“Xandarius of Xenlong, by my calculations, the warp-gate will arrive at its destination in one-hundred and fifty seconds.”
The eye of the A.I. had been replaced by a timer, the numbers rapidly ticking down towards zero.
“Officer Diamond, broadcast this countdown throughout the fleet, and transmit it to the Imperium as well.”
Diamond tipped the pinnacle of its top half toward the Emperor, before whirling around to complete his task.
Alvara found that her lips had gone dry, and she licked them absently as she watched the numbers dwindle.
Aboard the Mountain Storm, Tread watched the timer with unblinking optics, ready to transfer his full attention to his fighters the instant it hit zero. In the hangar of the same ship, Critter watched the countdown on his TIG projection, his sharp, little fingers tapping the arm of his seat in anxious anticipation. On the Firestorm, Slog’s eyes were locked on the shrinking time limit, his robotic hand gripping his controls so tightly that the light material began to groan, while from the bridge of the Stormfront, Ansaria watched the same, her stomach tightening into a tenser knot every second, and her mind desperately wondering if it was counting down towards victory…or death for them all.
The moment the display hit zero, BRONZE’s eye reappeared on the screen.
“Warp-gate destination reached; activation imminent. Prepare for the arrival.”
As soon as he finished, Diamond spoke up again.
~Sire, we’re receiving a transmission from the Rose Th
orn.~
“Display it, and broadcast it as well.”
A screen twice the size of the one BRONZE appeared on appeared in the middle of the dome. The image was identical to the stars that it now blocked out, save for a very large, very important difference. A massive sphere of white light, its size hard to distinguish against the blank void, but to those on the scene in Attack Group Meteor, looked to be the size of a small planetoid, had burst into existence. As the combined armada of the Xenlongian Empire and the Golden Imperium of Infinite Starlight watched, the pulsating sphere began to peel backward, revealing a dark mass in its interior, its features impossible to discern against the intense light of the sphere. The orb continued to peel backwards until it reached the opposite side of the sphere, at which point it winked out of existence; at last, the defenders of this galaxy could see the enemy they faced.
What shocked Ansaria the most was that under any other circumstances, the creature would have been revered amongst the Xenlongians. The Star Eater resembled nothing less than a massive dragon. Its serpentine body was twisted and curved, and if Ansaria could make heads or tails of its size, she would guess that the creature could have wrapped itself around the Throneship in three tight coils and still leave its tail and neck free. It had two arms and a pair of wings that stretched out to either side, and to Ansaria, they looked massive enough to completely encompass its thin, elongated body. Its tail had a mass of bony protrusions and sharp spines, while a row of horns stretched from along the length of its body up to its neck.
Its color was stunning. The Star Eater, from tail to snout, was varying shades of gold. Its underbelly was slightly paler, while most of it was a darker, burnt orange-gold. Its powerful wings were a more normal gold, and slightly translucent; Ansaria could only imagine what they would look like with the light of a massive star streaming through it as the beast fed. She wondered if the Golden Emperor was more excited to kill a living symbol of his hated rival, or disappointed at having to destroy a potential golden trophy.
The image zoomed in to get a good look at the monster’s face: its head was smooth, with no horns or spines anywhere near the top of its cranium and its eyes small and narrow, the eyes of a hungry animal. Four thick fangs, two on top and two on bottom, protruded out of the creature’s mouth. As the soldiers watched, the Star Eater opened its maw in a way that even in the void of space was recognizable as a roar, and a gout of golden fire erupted from its mouth.
“Behold the scourge, terror and master of my galaxy: The Star Eater.”
The silent image of the extragalactic monster displayed the creature stretching its wings and body, repositioning itself before it began to move toward the camera. The image zoomed out to show the wide expanse of space separating the creature and Attack Group Meteor. Despite the gulf, the creature’s speed would put it within attack distance in mere moments.
Alvara was unable to look away from the screen, even when Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest, his artificial voice, still somehow gravely, said:
“Admiral Lanta reports all vessels ready.”
The occupants of the Throneship’s bridge watched the creature approaching the first defensive line for a few tense seconds before:
“Scimitar fleet reports all vessels ready.”
Alvara watched the creature drawing closer to Meteor, each second filled with hope, fear, and apprehension.
Finally, Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest issued the order.
“Attack Group Meteor, engage!”
Chapter XXVIII
Meteor Shower
~Your Majesty, the creature has arrived on schedule, and Attack Group Meteor has been cleared to engage.~
--Administrator Epsilon, updating Queen Zira in Shield Fleet.
The combined ships of Attack Group Meteor and Imperium Fleet Scimitar hovered in the vacuum of space, every vessel putting the weeks of training into practice as the long-awaited battle finally began. The combined fleets were split cleanly along faction lines, but despite the enmity between the two empires, the commanders at least knew enough about strategy to put aside their differences in order to (hopefully) achieve a victorious outcome. The two fleets had assembled into a crescent shape, with the bulk of the ships making up the middle of the formation, with warships stationed above, beside and below one another. The formation thinned out as the edges curved around, creating an overlapping field of fire powerful enough to obliterate a small moon; silently, hundreds of thousands of beings prayed that would be enough.
The Star Eater, its wings spread out wide, its body twisting and turning, its maw open in an un-hearable roar of hunger, raced toward its next meal. As it drew closer to the outermost planets, its powerful eyes began to make out the smattering of specks that were blocking its way. This was not the first time lower creatures had tried to impede its feast, but no ship, no weapon, had yet prevented it from feeding.
As both Meteor and Scimitar finished powering up their weapons, their operators waited breathlessly for the creature to enter into the firing threshold. Every eye and sensor not engaged in something critical was watching either live footage of the creature approaching, or an alternate readout showing the oncoming attacker in some form or fashion.
The extragalactic beast altered its course slightly: it was now heading directly for the heart of the defense line. A gout of gold flame poured from its mouth, reaching twice as far as the first one.
The Star Eater moved closer into firing range.
Closer…
Closer…
A single, digital ‘beep’ sounded the start of utter destruction.
The order to attack was broadcasted throughout two different fleets, to two hundred ships of a dozen different classes. A rainbow of energy beams blossomed from thousands of cannons, projectors and emitters. Plasma beams of purple, red, pink, yellow, gold and orange raced toward the Star Eater, a single golden point in the black and white expanse of space.
But the energy weapons were just the opening salvo. The instant the gunners fired, tens of thousands of missiles were launched at the creature. Most were simple explosives of varying yield, but others were more unique or destructive. Some of the projectiles had a piercing tip of dense metal, meant to penetrate deep into a ship before detonating. Others were tipped with an incendiary that burned white-hot and could eat through the hull of a ship in moments. A few had warheads that produced a small lightning-storm of energy, dispersing bolts of electricity that arced from one target to another. Last, but not least, came the atomic weapons: Imperial Nova bombs, some twice as powerful as the one Oasis squad had used against the King of the Jukai on Brakka, and the Golden Wrath nukes of the Imperium, with their distinctive gilded explosion.
On the heels of the light-speed energy weapons and the powerful thrusters of the rockets and missiles came the solid projectiles. A number of ships were equipped with rail guns and mass drivers, capable of launching massive bullets of heavy, dense metal at a target, each one impacting with the force of a small nuke in their own right.
The plasma and energy beams converged on the Star Eater in a blinding white explosion. The beast was swallowed up in a superheated burst of energy that accidentally destroyed some of the quicker missiles that got caught in the edge of the explosion.
Just as the light of the first attack began to dim, the second wave struck. The place where the Star Eater had been became a storm of explosions one after the other, a dozen missiles impacting every second overwhelming the target. Fire, burning plasma and electric bolts added tinges of color to the otherwise yellow and orange blasts.
When the nukes hit, every vessel automatically activated their emergency tinting to prevent the bridge crews, and anyone else looking on from one of the ships, from going blind. For a moment, a micro-sun bloomed in the outer edge of the solar system. Had the creature been closer to the gas giant, it was possible the onslaught would have spread to the planet, igniting it into a muddy-colored star. Instead, the white-yellow explosion hung silently in space, occasionally expanding
as another atomic weapon detonated.
Just as the inferno began to die down, the magnetically accelerated projectiles struck. It was hard to see with the smoke, debris and lingering afterglow of the myriad of explosions, but some of the bullets hit their target perfectly while others sailed passed into the depths of space, their target having moved just a fraction out of place.
The combined fleets of Meteor and Scimitar waited tensely to see what their attack had accomplished. Likewise, every member of the combined fleets was waiting breathlessly as the footage from Rose Thorn continually transmitted throughout the other attack groups.
As the obstructive detritus of the opening salvo finally began to clear, a dark figure could just barely be seen. The gunners of every ship present double-checked their weapons, ready to open fire once more at the first order.
Suddenly, within the cloud of debris, the mighty golden wings of the Star Eater swung out, scattering more of the clutter blocking everyone’s view. The beast stretched its long body and splayed its wings out as wide as it could. Its mouth was wide open in a silent howl of pain, rage, hunger and challenge. Another stream of golden fire emerged from its jaw.
At first glance, it appeared as though the creature had gone through the first attack completely unharmed. However, some of the more sharp-eyed and observant defenders noticed patches of scales that had been scorched nearly black. From some of these wounds were unfurling tendrils of smoke, indicating some of them were at least still smoldering. A bloody-red and raw streak on the attacker’s neck showed where a strip of flesh had been seared off.
The Star Eater immediately resumed its course, now snaking through the empty vacuum like a venomous eel in the dark depths of a cold, alien sea. Gold fire continued to pour from its throat, stretching out before it as it rushed to destroy the microbes that had harmed it.
Orders were sent throughout both attack groups: break formation, take evasive action, and fire at will. Immediately, the crescent array of the combined fleets began to dissolve. In any lesser fleet, the sight of the coming monster, virtually unharmed after such a cataclysmic show of power, would send the crewmembers into a panic, causing ships to collide as the crews desperately tried to get out of the beast’s way. Not so for these fleets; the soldiers of the Xenlongian Empire and the Golden Imperium of Infinite Starlight had spent centuries engaging in conquests and decades fighting each other. While it was true that the current turn of events had shaken morale, the defenders of Attack Group Meteor and Imperium Fleet Scimitar weren’t ready to call it quits yet.