by Z H Brown
Ansaria watched all of this from the bridge of her command ship. As soon as the nightmare had inflicted catastrophic losses, it bugged out and continued toward its goal. A few moments later, it encountered another defensive line, repeating the process and killing hundreds of Imperials and Imperium personal in the span of seconds. With every battle group it destroyed, it brought itself closer and closer to the final defensive line.
Ansaria’s throat went dry and her stomach twisted into knots as she watched the last collection of ships separating the Star Eater from the leaders of Attack Group Lightning.
“All hands, prepare for battle,” came the call from the steady, deep-voiced admiral. Alarms sounded throughout the vessel, informing every one of the approaching danger. Ansaria tried to get a hold of Alvara to find out her status, but the sergeant refused to answer. Just as Ansaria was beginning to get frustrated, she received an incoming message.
“This is Captain Dormus, go ahead.”
“Captain, this is Chief Weapons Officer Tantius. Sergeant Alvara asked me to contact you on her behalf.”
“Very well; go ahead, Officer Tantius.”
“The Throne Lancer is charged and ready to fire, and Sergeant Alvara is awaiting the target.”
Ansaria had lost count how many times extreme tension had been replaced by temporary relief toady; all she knew was that she was exhausted.
“Copy that, Officer Tantius. With any luck, this nightmare is about to end. Captain Dormus, out.”
As she terminated the transmission, Ansaria noticed that the view from the Stormfront had changed. Before, it had showed a collection of Imperial ships obscuring the black and white of space. Now, the vessel was arrayed in a loose bunch centered on the Throneship; tight enough to allow for concentrated fire to be brought to bear, but loose enough to allow all the ships maneuvering room for the inevitable retaliation.
If Ansaria had been in a different vantage point, she would have seen the blade-like bow of the Throneship split in two, sliding apart to allow a short muzzle to protrude. If she had been able to see clearly, she would have seen their last, best hope for survival beginning to glow with a steady, yellow energy.
“Direct from the admiral: ‘all ships, fire at will,'" came the order from Supreme Admiral Eve'Rest.
Captain Minos nodded in recognition before bellowing: “Open fire!”
The ships of Attack Group Lightning and Sunstorm fleet unloaded every weapon they had. Ansaria’s eyes watered at the light show before her; explosions of pink, purple, red, gold, orange, yellow and pure white filled the bridge viewscreen. Missiles and projectiles burst into blossoms of varying color, some closer than others. Even the Throneship opened up with its powerful forward guns, sending streams of indigo energy meant to go toe-to-toe with the strongest ships in the Imperium, soaring through space.
What Ansaria’s bare eyes couldn’t see, the powerful cameras of the ship picked up. The Star Eater, so close to its goal, driven by rage, pain and hunger, was flying madly through space, moving as erratically as an annoying insect refusing to land and be swatted. Energy blasts that should have been on target lanced through empty space as the monster changed direction at impossible speeds. Rockets and missiles that flew to converge on their target changed course to follow the agile horror, only to fly straight into energy blasts that caused the payloads to detonate far from their goal. A few attacks managed to connect, but as with so many offensives before, it simply wasn’t enough to stop, or even slow down the invader. Its blitzkrieg brought it closer with every breath.
Closer…
Closer…
Ansaria closed her eyes to offer a brief prayer:
'Whatever power there is in the universe, please give my friend a steady hand and a perfect shot.'
Alvara followed the erratic path of her target with her special firing apparatus, her heart beating steadily, her breath only the slightest bit faster than normal. Her years of training and recent experience since getting caught up in this nightmare with Ansaria and the others gave her an almost supernatural focus. The drone of noise that permeated the bridge- status reports from the gunners, the Supreme Admiral getting updates from Imperial ships and relaying instructions- faded into an indistinct static that Alvara was able to ignore, pouring her focus into the task at hand.
The Star Eater closed the distance between itself and the allied forces, weaving this way and that. Explosions of light briefly obscured the target, but the computer helped filter some of the harsh brightness.
Alvara tightened up on her apparatus as the beast came closer. The readout showed that the Lancer was charged and ready to fire. All she needed was a clear shot.
Alvara’s finger tightened on the trigger as the creature briefly flickered into the center of her sights before swooping away. Silent explosions continued to fill her vision.
Alvara held her breath as she prepared to fire…before she loosened her grip on her weapon stalk and pulled her gaze from the digital targeting system. Ignoring the look of bewilderment from Tantius, she activated her comm.
“This is Sergeant Alvara, I do not have a clear shot. Repeat, the shot is a no-go.”
Ansaria’s head swam as she received the message from her comrade. The communique had gone out to her, Admiral Minos and Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest. She and the Createn officer exchanged looks of concern and bewilderment.
On board the Throneship, half the assembled crew was staring intently at the Gorgonian woman. The other half kept their minds on the battle, but they had heard her as well.
The heavy, rock-solid footfalls of Admiral Eve’Rest shook the deck as he came over to Alvara’s position, with Guard Captain Fornost on his heels. The top commander of the Imperial Navy came to a stop before her and drew up to his full height. His stony face was blank, and the electronic voice that addressed her belied the admiral’s emotions.
“Explain yourself, sergeant.”
Alvara looked into the face of her superior with a steady, unblinking gaze. “Admiral Eve’Rest, sir, given the current evasive actions of the enemy, and the recharge time on the Throne Lancer, it is my tactical opinion the firing now would do nothing but waste the shot and potentially deprive us of our best advantage when we do have a chance to fire.”
Eve’Rest regarded her silently as updates from the battle continued to pour in; Colonel Fornost’s face was as unreadable as the blank visage of the Supreme Admiral. Finally, he replied.
“If this was any other situation, and if your recent accomplishments had not given you special preference from His Highness, I would have you court-martialed and imprisoned for insubordination.”
Alvara continued to regard him steadily, waiting for the admiral to finish.
“Since Emperor Xandarius placed you in charge of this weapon, I will defer to your ‘tactical opinion.’” With that, he wheeled around and trundled back to his previous position to continue observing the battle.
Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest activated his TIG to inform the commanders throughout the fleet of the current situation. “Attention, all Imperial ships: the Throne Lancer is not currently usable. All craft are to break off their attacks and rendezvoused with the royal flagship to regroup and strategize.”
Acknowledgments came in from throughout the ships of Attack Group Lightning. However, not all of them accepted the order willingly.
“Supreme Admiral, I’m going to need you to clarify why our best hope for ending this nightmare is being shelved.” The voice belonged to Admiral Venrius, and while his tone was restrained, it was clear that the order was fraying what remained of the Xenlongian’s nerves.
“Our specially appointed gunner of the Lancer does not feel confident in being able to hit the target, and with the weapon’s recharge time, a wasted shot could be the final nail in our coffin.”
“If the sergeant is not confident in her abilities, then perhaps the Throneship’s designated Weapons Officer should be given his position back.”
“Negative, Admiral Venrius.
The sergeant was given her position by the Emperor himself, and I do not have the authority to remove her, or the desire to oppose his orders. Now order your ships to break off and regroup.”
The other end of the line was quiet for a few moments, and the tension between the two officers could be felt even through the terror of the life-or-death situation that they were in.
“Acknowledged,” came the curt reply before the line went silent.
Imperial ships began breaking off from the battle. The Throneship continued to fire with its powerful weapons, but was now coming about to seek the safety of the other side of the planet they were stationed over. The ships at the front of the assembled attack group continued to provide cover fire as the vessels at the rear of the formation began to follow the Emperor’s personal craft.
The Star Eater noticed the decrease in the amount of fire coming at it. The beast decided to press its advantage, ending most of its evasive moves and shooting straight toward the retreating vessels that stood between it and its meal. It unleashed a burst of flame, catching two ships in its unbearable heat. Seeing the bulk of its adversaries moving toward the opposite side of the planet the insects had clustered around, it weighed its rage and desire for revenge against its gnawing hunger and decided on its next course of action.
It let loose more bursts of flame, destroying ship after ship as the attack group continued its retreat. As much as it wanted to tear into more puny vessels with its claws, it adjusted its flight so as to use the planet’s gravity to slingshot it closer to its goal.
On the day side of the planet, the ships of the Xenlongian Empire and the Golden Imperium of Infinite Starlight clustered around the Throneship of Xandarius. Despite the minuscule distance between the ships, the masterful piloting skills of the experienced soldiers kept them from colliding, with only the occasional flare of a shield showing exactly how close the vessels came to scraping against each other.
Aboard the Throneship, Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest was being assaulted by a cascade of communication coming from captains, commodores and admirals asking what their next course of action would be. All of them had to wait, though, as the admiral was currently engaged in a heated discussion with the highest ranking member of the Imperium left.
Minor Stellar Admiral Dargol was one of many sub-commanders assigned throughout the Imperium forces. The Star Eater had killed the majority of the Imperium’s leaders, with some having tried to mutiny before being put down by loyal forces, while others retreated in order to save their own hides; the Minor Stellar Admiral was the highest ranking officer eligible to speak on behalf of his fallen masters.
“You had the creature dead in your sights and you let it go!? We should have known better than to trust a rabble of upstarts that have spent the last four decades trying and failing to defeat us! Our glorious leader gave his life to stop that monster, but the mighty Xenlongians can’t even be bothered to pull the trigger!”
As the Imperium commander paused to draw breath, Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest replied. “Admiral Dargol, I understand your frustration and I sympathize with you and your losses, but our strategy was approved by our Emperor, and we will not jeopardize our empire or our galaxy by firing wildly. This battle is not yet over, and we are preparing for another attack on the invader; an attack that your forces can either join us in or the lot of you can turn tail and run home to await your destruction.”
The other end was silent as Admiral Dargol digested the reply. Finally, he spoke up. “I hope your faith in your emperor is well founded, admiral, or we shall all wish that we had died here with our golden savior.”
“Noted, admiral, now prepare your forces for the next attack. Eve’Rest, out.” With that, the Supreme Admiral terminated the comm. before turning to address the bridge of the Throneship.
“Our initial plan has proven less than successful,” said the artificial voice. Every eye, optic and telepathic sensor was fixed on the officer. The only sounds were coming from the stations and communicators of those present. “But even though that deplorable beast has gotten past us, and killed countless comrades and…allies, our efforts have not totally been in vain; the beast is wounded, and we still have the most powerful weapon in the Empire to use against it,” the admiral brought his massive, stony fists together, which produced a crack that reverberated across the room. “Let the beast feed while it can, for the last thing it shall taste is the bitterness of death! For the Empire!”
Eve’Rest’s rallying cry was repeated by all those present, before they turned back to their stations to prepare for the final battle.
“Helmsman, take us out of orbit,” said the Supreme Admiral, his blank visage turned up toward the dome above him, filled with a dozen-plus vessels of various types. Officer Ranyor skillfully maneuvered the massive dreadnought up and around the lifeless planet below them. Alvara watched as the ship crested the planet, before the dome turned slightly opaque to diminish the strong light of the star that they were heading towards. There was no sign of the opponent, but between the bright light and the Star Eater’s astonishing speed, that wasn’t surprising.
From her place on the Stormfront, Ansaria likewise watched as the battered fleet advanced toward the distant sun. Her ship was flying close to the Throneship, slightly above and behind it so that Ansaria could see the bridge-dome, but couldn’t make out anything inside. To Ansaria, it felt like she was a passive observer, hovering outside her own body. Everything felt disconnected, from the grip she had on the console in front of her, to the slight vibration of the deck beneath her feet, to the murmur and babble of the crew as they informed their leaders of the fleet’s orders and readings. Part of her felt like she was still in shock after Alvara’s refusal to fire. She trusted her second-in-command completely, and so she didn’t think the decision was due to cowardice or lack of confidence, but even those facts couldn’t improve her spirits. She felt like she had passed through a scorching desert and came upon a fountain of cold water, only for the liquid to disappear in a hazy mirage.
As the ships made their way closer and closer towards their final battle, she began to recover. Eve’Rest was right; even if the beast had gotten by them, they still had the Lancer, and Shield Fleet was still lying in wait. However this all turned out, a part of her was confident that even if they all died here, her civilization would survive. Releasing her iron-grip, straightening her back and drawing a calming breath, the Xenlongian captain steeled herself for the climatic confrontation.
The Star Eater’s mighty jaws opened and closed absently in hunger. Its vision was completely filled by the celestial furnace before it, but heat and light wasn’t a deterrent, it was a spicy aroma that drove its appetite to new heights. The battered form of the alien apex predator continued to close the vast distance between itself and its meal. It continued to fly closer despite the mounting increase in heat; if anything, the increase in temperature seemed to invigorate the creature.
The beast continued its dive toward the sun, moving closer than any ship with an organic crew would be able to stand. It drew close enough that its powerful eye could see the destructive ribbons of solar flares lashing out from the massive sphere of boiling hydrogen. Then, despite the indescribable gravity of the star pulling it closer to its fiery, crushing embrace, the monster slowed its advance until it drew to a quivering halt. The mighty wounded wings of the leviathan flipped forward, like they had when it shielded itself during its rampage, but not quite covering it; the beasts organic solar sails were now keeping it hovering close enough to finally feed and not be consumed in turn.
Following at a respectable distance were the remaining two-hundred-odd warships, starships and interstellar vessels of the Xenlongian Empire and the Golden Imperium of Infinite Starlight. Every long-range camera was trained on the target hundreds of thousands of miles ahead of them, barely perceptible against the overwhelming light of its prey, which the computers were only barely able to make tolerable with filters.
On the bridge of the Thronesh
ip, a dozen different screens showed the same image of the Star Eater poised on its feast. The eyes, optics and sensors all present were locked on the most convenient screen, except for Alvara, who was straining out through the dome overhead, which had darkened partially to protect its occupants from the blinding light. Even her well trained eyes couldn’t pick out the minuscule form of her opponent through the glare and dark material, but she continued to search as they closed the distance.
Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest was broken from his preparation of the coming final confrontation by a ‘beep’ from his TIG.
“Report.”
“Admiral, sir,” it was the teleporter technician. “Our increasing proximity to the star is causing interference with our instruments. In short, our lock on His Royal Highness is becoming sporadic.”
That was the last thing Eve’Rest needed to hear. The Emperor’s safety was paramount, even if the current predicament was his own fault. And yet, he also knew that the Emperor would place the defeat of this abomination above his own safety, and would possibly demote the admiral for putting the safety of one being above billions.
He was aware of Colonel Fornost’s gaze boring into him. The Emperor’s safety was his highest priority, and currently, that was all but impossible for him. The monarch he was sworn to protect was currently half a solar system away from him, hovering in the remains of a destroyed enemy fleet with a limited air supply and grappling with an unknown, volatile energy, and suddenly the best means they had of quickly rescuing their sovereign lord was becoming unreliable.