by Z H Brown
The admiral asked the obvious question.
“If we continue on our present course, will we lose contact completely?”
“I’m afraid so, sir. We do still have a fix on the energy he went after, but if we try to teleport that aboard, it could bring along who knows what kind of debris with it. We could potentially ‘port an exploding bomb into the belly of the ship.”
More bad news, but then, the ships couldn’t get much closer to the star anyway. Most of the ships in their fleet had only standard heat shielding; much closer and they’d start to cook before they’d even started the battle. He had only a broad knowledge of the Imperium ships, but he knew that only a handful of those present would have above-average protection. The Throneship had better heat shielding, but if they wanted to be able to fight and not overheat after the first volley, they’d have to stop at a strategic distance.
“Technician, if we draw to a stop, and you get a lock on the Emperor, can. You. Hold it?”
“If we stop before getting closer to the star, it would increase our lock by fifty-five percent, so yes; I believe that if we hold our position, we can safely retrieve his Lordship.”
“Very well, keep me informed if any other problems develop,” he terminated the communication before turning to address the comm. officer.
“Officer Diamond, send a message to all ships: full stop, and prepare for long-range engagement.”
The massage was broadcasted to Xenlongian and Imperium ships. The multitude of vessels came to a stop, aside from the thrusters straining against the gravity of the nearby sun. The Star Eater continued to hover motionless above its prey.
Before Eve’Rest could announce his next order, he received a new message from Minor Stellar Admiral Dargol, demanding to know what was going on. The Supreme Admiral explained the situation, before adding:
“However, if you decide to lead your forces in for a closer attack, you may do so at your discretion. We shall continue to aid you, but from a distance; this ship must remain in range of our Emperor.”
The line was silent for a moment. “Your admiration is commendable.”
Eve’Rest’s stony face was incapable of showing the shock he felt within. “As is yours,”
To a degree.
The line went dead, and outside the tinted dome the ships of the Golden Imperium resumed their forward assault. Eve’Rest watched as the gilded vessels began attacking their distant target.
The results were less than stellar. The vast distance between the warships and their target meant that most shots went wild, on top of the distortion caused by the intense gravity. Those shots that did hit were simply too small to have any real affect. If the beast even noticed it was under attack, it did not display it, as its gaze remained fixed on the ripe prize before it. A volley of missiles fared little better, as some were sent on wild courses, while some collided and exploded. A few that happened to be within distance of the invader inflicted minimal damage.
After making sure that Sergeant Alvara was using this time wisely and lining up a shot, which she was, Eve’Rest prepared to relay an order to the fleet to deploy into attack formation. Before he gave the order, a single thought crossed his mind as he gazed upon the distant visage of his foe.
What in blazes is it waiting for?
It was prophetic. The surface of the sun beneath the creature suddenly roiled and convulsed, before a truly massive solar flare erupted into space.
Watching from the Stormfront, Ansaria’s mind grappled with itself; on the one hand, she hoped that some divine being had interceded and launched a lash of stellar destruction at the creature, obliterating it once and for all. On the other, she knew that to this nightmare, that was probably its version of a dinner bell.
Plasma, solar matter and radiation rocketed toward the extragalactic monster. In the blink of an eye, it had reoriented its body so that its massive jaws were parted and pointed directly at the incoming conflagration. Before the eyes of thousands of defenders, the incoming expelled plasma twisted into a cyclone of energy, the tip of the tunnel heading straight toward the maw of the beast.
The huge jaws swallowed the firestorm and stretched wider to accommodate the rapidly approaching tail end of the inferno. As the energy raced down its gullet, a golden glow began to suffuse its entire being. The united imperial soldiers watched, transfixed, as against the light of the star, a new light began to shine. The energy covered the Star Eater from tip to tip, glowing brighter as it swallowed more of its first course serving.
And as they watched, those with eyes naturally or artificially enhanced enough to pierce the blinding light gasped, as pieces of the creature began to convulse and boil, new skin replacing charred, seared, blackened flesh, healthy scales replacing those blasted, burned or smashed off, gaping wounds slowly closing. Tatters in the wings sutured themselves closed, while the disintegrated claws the beast had lost returned, healthy and strong.
As all those present watched as their victory was rewinding right before them, Ansaria was the first to recover, ordering her communications officer to transmit her message throughout the fleet.
“What are you all waiting for!? Shoot it!”
Chapter XXXIII
Destiny of the Stars
~I’m afraid we’ve lost contact with the Throneship. I’m receiving word from another Prizmid that the Star Eater is still alive, and both fleets are leading their forces in pursuit of it towards the system’s star. The last word I received said the Emperor had still not been recovered from his personal mission. All we can do now is hope…and wait.~
-- Administrator Epsilon updating Queen Zira in Shield Fleet.
Ansaria’s command unleashed a frantic flurry of activity throughout the fleet. Gunners and targeting systems began firing on the distant, regenerating form of their enemy. Attacking at an even greater distance than the Imperium had, ninety-nine out of a hundred shots warped, curved and twisted into random directions; the rare few that struck seemed to be of no more consequence to the Star Eater than a leaf slapping against an armored breastplate in a high wind.
The Imperium, which had been stopped in its nonexistent tracks by the unexpected regeneration, also began firing again. Most of their shots went wide, but more of them struck the leviathan than the previous barrage.
The beast, meanwhile, seemed to be finishing with its first morsel. The healing glow that had covered it had faded, leaving its solar prey the only source of light before them. Ansaria cursed under her breath as the long-range cameras revealed just how much of their efforts had been undone: more than half of the holes in its wings had been repaired, although the bottom of one was still jaggedly ripped. Its gaping chest wound had shrunk somewhat, the outermost ring of seared flesh replaced by new, healthy skin and scales. Its missing claws had been completely replaced, though it was still absent an eye.
Even with the redoubled bombardment, the creature paid no attention to its one-time obstacles. It stretched its wings, testing the somewhat healed membrane, and flexed its new, untested claws. It threw back its head and unleashed a scream of triumph that went unheard by any being in the galaxy.
For a moment, Ansaria felt certain that the creature would suddenly whirl around and charge them, unleashing more of its cursed flame breath. Instead, it did the last thing she expected it to do.
It retreated.
With a burst of speed from its slightly repaired wings, the Star Eater rocketed away at an angle, moving to a different part of the star to hover in wait for its next meal.
While the Imperium vessels altered course to give chase, the Imperial fleet was momentarily paralyzed. Admiral Minos was asking for orders, while on the Throneship, Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest was trying frantically to find out if following the target would mean losing their teleportation lock on the Emperor.
Finally, they had a plan. The Xenlongian fleet accelerated towards the enemy, while still remaining far enough from the star’s influence to be able to snatch up their leader when the time came.
As they closed the distance between themselves and their extragalactic adversary, a message went out from Eve’Rest, calling on all ships that were willing and able to get closer to the beast and attack it along with the Imperium ships.
Ansaria fixed Admiral Minos with a determined stare that was so intense, it caused him to cut short a series of orders he was in the middle of delivering.
“I know that look: speak your mind, captain.”
“Admiral, can our ship get any closer than this?”
“We have more shielding than most in this situation, but not by much,” the commanding officer rubbed his large chin absently. “I’d say, at most we’d get close enough to increase our accuracy by thirty percent without compromising the ships integrity or fighting ability immediately.”
Ansaria continued to hold his gaze as she steeled herself for what she was about to say next.
“Then, admiral, I respectfully request we send the Stormfront on the offensive.” Admiral Minos searched her gaze; wisdom and experience trying to fathom youthful determination. He had seen battle countless times on a hundred different scales, but nothing like the slaughter he had seen today. He had witnessed experienced Imperial officers crack up in less stressful situations and order suicide charges on the enemy, but this young woman didn’t have the look of someone ready for the nightmare to be over. No, she had the look of someone who knew she could never live with herself if she survived this apocalypse without doing absolutely everything within her power to save the lives of countless innocents.
Without breaking his gaze with her, Minos spoke into his TIG. “This is the Stormfront, preparing to attack.”
Another voice suddenly emerged from the unit. “And the Firestorm will be right beside them.”
One after another, voices spoke up, declaring their intention to join the attack. A dozen vessels had volunteered to break formation and engage the enemy along with the Imperium.
“All attack vessels, permission to engage granted. For the Empire!”
Eve’Rest’s battle cry was echoed throughout the meager fleet, as the offensive forces accelerated to close the distance even more.
Ansaria, despite the thrill of battle thrumming through her veins, could still feel the cold fist of terror grasping her insides. She wasn’t sure if this last charge would accomplish anything, but it sure beat hanging back and waiting.
Far, far ahead of them, the Imperium fleet began to show its exhaustion. The ships were moving so slowly that the Imperial vessels closed the distance between them in moments despite their gilded rivals' head start. Some of the propulsion drives of the vessels were flickering, as though their engines were struggling to keep going. One ship, a tri-horned cruiser, lurched forward in little bursts has its drives flared and darkened. Before their forces had completely caught up with them, one of the ships suddenly altered course and struggled to move away from the star, but did not get far before it suddenly exploded, a victim of critical overheating.
As the Imperial forces took the lead, the Star Eater once more hovered stationary above its pray, waiting for the next course to be served. It continued to ignore the approaching ships, either unaware or indifferent of their existence.
Ansaria began to become acutely aware of the raising temperature on the bridge. Being used to patrolling a blazing desert meant that she was no weakling when it came to dealing with the heat, but even she was beginning to get uncomfortable with the warmth. The bridge crew was constantly wiping sweat from their eyes so they could see their readouts, and Minos had produced a large handkerchief that he was mopping across his horned forehead.
When an amphibian crewmember suddenly keeled over, attended to quickly by a pair of its friends, Admiral Minos spoke up.
“This is too close; bring us away from the star a bit, but continue moving in the direction of the enemy.”
Ansaria watched as best she could through the sweat dripping over her eyes as the exterior view shifted somewhat, and the flotilla put some distance between themselves and the sun, while continuing to close the distance.
Thankfully, the minor shift away caused the ship to compensate for the heat, and she could mercifully feel the bridge starting to cool down. Unfortunately, as though he could read her mind, Minos said.
“We’ll need as much cool air as we can get at the moment. Once we start firing, it’s gone get real warm, real fast.”
Ansaria took the information with grim silence, wishing in her heart of hearts to be in a crowded bar, with another chilled Indigo Lantern in her hand, and maybe Eberius with her, too.
She shook her head; this was no time to be thinking about a one-time meeting when the fate of her entire civilization was at stake.
As the warships closed in on the enemy, a thought occurred to Ansaria. She quickly strode across the bridge to a console occupied by an orange-hued reptile.
“Weapons Chief…Agua, yes?”
The young crewmember saluted sharply. “Aye, Captain Dormus.”
“Is there any way for us to combine our targeting computers' calculations?” The reptilian warrior rubbed his scaly chin with stubby claws. “It is possible to network all of the targeting systems together, but the only way to make that effective would be to limiting the number of weapons to get the most out of the linked array.”
“So, if we network the targeting system, and linked them all to the forward batteries, would our accuracy improve enough to do some real damage?”
Weapon’s Chief Agua’s face brightened as Ansaria’s plan fully came to him. “Captain, I’ll have our weapons linked and ready to fire by the time we get in range!”
With that, the young officer turned back to his console to begin his task. Satisfied, Ansaria next moved to the Comm. Officer.
“Are our communications reliable at the moment?”
“The emissions from the star are causing massive amounts of interference, but with our line-of-sight, tight beam communications, we can speak with the ships accompanying us.”
“Good. Send a message to all ships: network all targeting systems and sync them to their ship’s forward batteries. We need every ship ready by the time we reach the creature; better inform the Throneship as well.”
The Comm. Officer saluted before hurrying to carry out the order. Ansaria returned to her spot next to Admiral Minos.
“An excellent plan,” said the hulking fleet commander. “I just pray that our increased accuracy will make up for our diminished numbers.”
Ansaria nodded solemnly before once more turning her attention to the enemy. It continued to hover motionless as it awaited its next meal.
As the ships continued their advance, one vessel after another announced that their recalibrated targeting systems were ready. Just as they came within range of the most powerful weapons, the last ship called in their status. The enhanced targeting systems zeroed in on the Star Eater. The reticule, displayed for the benefit of the organic crew members, hovered over the dark obscuring shape. It twitched and jerked wildly due to the stellar interference, but the computer compensated almost instantly, meaning the targeting system never left the enemy for longer than it took to blink.
Ansaria shot a sideways look at Minos, who once again seemed to read her mind; he nodded. Ansaria nodded in return.
“All ships, fire!” she said.
Her order was carried out across a dozen ships. The recalibrated systems proved their merit, as the dozens of pink, purple and red energy beams converged on the dread monster. Not every beam struck the target, though, as some went flying off at odd angles before they could reach the enemy.
The Star Eater was stirred from its singular focus by the searing sting of the barrage. The blast had struck its exposed side; painful, but not debilitating. However, that pain paled in comparison to the all-consuming pain of the brilliant white sphere of plasma that struck it in the same spot a moment later.
The Firestorm’s main weapon had been synced along with the rest of the weapon systems. It had also increased its
accuracy, but it had calculated that the only way to take advantage of the precision was by reducing the power to two-thirds. Slog had grumbled about firing with less than full power, but was eager to but Ansaria’s plan to the test.
When the order came to fire, the vessel unleashed its orb of destructive plasma. The projectile was rapidly passed over by the rest of the volley, which struck the beast a moment later. But this just meant that the sphere was the star of its own little show, with the eyes of everyone in the small task force focused on it, rather than the extragalactic invader.
The ball of boiling, white-hot plasma did not fly in a straight line toward its target. Instead, it corkscrewed through space; flying in a tight spiral, the playthings of the true monster of plasma close at hand.
The beast, distracted by the pain of the rest of the attack, and still keeping some of its attention on the star, did not see the final, resounding sucker punch that struck it in the same spot as the others.
The creature roared unheard in the vacuum, the surface of the star beginning to boil as if sympathetic. The beast was knocked off course by the force and unexpectedness of the attack. Clutching its seared side where the scales had been melted away to leave a swath of raw, bloody skin that was cauterized at the edges, the massive brute managed to prevent itself from falling into the sun, but was no longer precisely positioned.
The mood was dangerously close to approaching jubilant among the native defenders. As much as she didn’t want to, Ansaria asked the most pressing question.
“How soon ‘till we can fire again?”
The inquiry quickly silenced the hum of excitement that had permeated the bridge after the successful attack. The relevant bridge officers conversed quickly in hushed tones before the weapons chief answered.
“Several minutes. At the absolute soonest.”
The statement killed whatever feelings of triumph the soldiers had felt.
“Our heat diffusion system is already working at maximum to combat our proximity to the star…” continued the weapons chief, as if the explanation would somehow lessen the blow amongst his shipmates. “If we fire before the weapons have fully cooled, they could wind up overheating and exploding.”