by Z H Brown
Every eye and optic on the bridge was locked on the two leaders above them. Ansaria couldn’t tell if the sweat creeping along her skin was from the heat suffusing the bridge, or the reality that their last hope at stopping the creature… had come up short.
Admiral Minos was deep in thought beside her, his eyes closed, one large hand cupping his bovine chin.
Ansaria, bereft of anything to look at for any particular reason, returned her attention to the screen displaying the nightmare of her reality.
The sun beneath the Star Eater had increased in its pre-eruption convulsing. The xeno beast, which for a few moments had been distracted by the new wound, snapped its attention back to the meal at hand. Once it had repaired the damage to its glorious form, and annihilated the specks that remained to defy it, it would be able to tear into the sun with its own power, gorging on the fiery matter that sustained it.
The beast rapidly moved to prepare for its next feast. It flared its wings to move back to where they were before the attack. The star was now close to erupting, the surface of the life-giving giant a boiling cauldron of energy.
Seeing the stellar event about to occur, a wild, desperate, last-ditched thought barreled across Ansaria’s mind. Given the life and death circumstances, the thought came out as a shout.
“Ramming speed!”
Her command was meet with only a few, half-comprehending looks; even Minos was unable to enforce or countermand the order before two things happened one after the other.
First, the star that so many had fought and died for, oblivious to the sacrifices made that day, continued with its natural course and emitted another solar flare. A destructive burst of radioactive plasma was expelled into space, towards the waiting jaws of the hovering predator from another galaxy.
However, before the feast could reach the leathery lips of the giant reptile, a fleet of sleek, sharp edged, jet-black ships appeared in a flash of blue light. Their arrival was lost on the sensors of the Imperial and Imperium forces, overwhelmed as they were by the flood of hot noise and energy from the star. Only a few sharp eyed beings noticed the sudden appearance, but none of them moved to inform the others, engrossed as they were by the perverse feeding about to be undertaken by their foe.
Just as the first fiery morsel passed into its gullet, but before the beast could become infused with cosmic energy, the mystery ships unleashed their own attack. Each of the fifteen ships fired a half-dozen thin beams of brilliant blue energy. The multitude of cerulean beams flew toward their target, zipping along so closely together that they almost appeared to form a solid shaft of blue.
The bright, thin beams converged on the still gaping wound on the Star Eater’s chest. The force of the blast, as well as the destructive energy of the beams, collided with the solid mass of the monster.
One moment, the beast was just a heartbeat away from another meal.
The next, it was sent tumbling end over end, the solar flare it had intended to consume instead flying off free into space.
At a reasonable distance away from the star, and some ways beyond the fleet of ships still fighting the creature, was the Throneship of the Xenlongian Empire. The mighty dreadnought had been shadowing the attack force from a distance, keeping a close watch on their comrades and their adversary. After receiving the tight-beam communication concerning improving the targeting system, the technicians throughout the vessel had worked diligently to enact the plan.
As she waited once again for Tantius to recalibrate the Lancer, Alvara was steadying her nerves, quieting her mind, and controlling her breathing. During her life as a mutant outcast, she had been taught the virtues of patience and control by those few that would associate with her, virtues she had put to good use in the Xenlongian Imperial Army.
She was aware that she had probably created some enemies throughout the fleet for not taking the shot last time, but she had lived nearly her whole life with the entire population of her home planet hating her, so that was nothing new. Her instincts had told her the moment was not right. Now that the situation had changed, she was preparing herself to finish what so many had given their lives to achieve.
An electronic ‘beep’ announced that the recalibration was complete. Tantius dutifully stood back from the firing mechanism, a familiar look of longing in his mismatched, synthetic/organic eyes.
As Alvara settled back into the familiar position she had been training in for weeks, hoisting the firing apparatus to her shoulder and looking into the digital scope. The Throneship’s position allowed her to see the Star Eater far off, as well as the ongoing eruption of the solar flare, but the beast’s location prevented her from seeing the bulk of the black ships that suddenly arrived. She saw a few dark objects appear near the creature, only visible thanks to the computer enhancements blocking out some of the overwhelming light.
However, the appearance of the mysterious objects paled in comparison to the surprise she felt when a flash of blue briefly flared to life, only for the extragalactic monster, just an instant away from feeding once more, was sent tumbling away from its prey. Alvara was almost too flabbergasted to properly grasp the opportunity before her. She watched as the dreaded horror was sent flying away from the star, tumbling end-over-end in a nearly comical fashion that felt completely at odds with the horrors they had witnessed today.
After a moment, Alvara’s training kicked in and she rededicated herself to the only thing that mattered: getting the perfect shot and eliminating the target. Alvara watched with timed blinks as the stunned monster continued to tumble through space. A few breaths later, the targeting system changed from red to green: target in range; clear to engage.
The digital crosshairs jittered as the star’s emissions and gravity caused it to jump around, only to be returned to the center a millisecond later as the improved targeting system compensated.
She inhaled.
The crosshairs hovered unsteadily over the Star Eater’s spiked tail.
She exhaled.
The nightmare completed its revolution, bringing its head into view; its remaining eye was staring wildly into the distance, its mouth open in a silent shriek of rage, pain and surprise.
She squeezed the trigger.
From the split, receded bow of the Throneship came a burst of bright, yellow energy. The blast was conical in shape, its pointed tip widening out into a thick beam, nowhere near as large as the Golden Flagship’s attack, but was still large enough to swallow up anything smaller than a destroyer.
The distance between the weapon and its target meant that the Star Eater had time to make another rotation before the beam reached it. Just as it was beginning to get feeling back in its limbs, it became aware of a rapidly increasing yellow glow. As its head turned, it had a split second to see the incoming energy blast with its one remaining eye, before its vision was completely subsumed by yellow light.
From aboard a dozen different ships, the eyes, optics and sensors of every defender were glued to the onscreen transmission. The lance of energy swept over the head and three-quarters of the neck. The beam continued on uninterrupted, until the sun’s crushing gravity caused it to explosively disperse. When the long body and tail of the beam finally followed along after the rest of it, the result of the attack was plain for all to see.
The cauterized stump of a neck sat atop body of the Star Eater twitching in its death throes. Its previous tumble was altered by the attack, instead sending it back towards the sun.
Ansaria watched all of this, waiting for the other boot to drop. Any moment now, she expected the thing to suddenly halt its free fall toward the star, its missing parts spontaneously regenerating, missing eye and all.
After everything it's shrugged off, she thought anxiously, after everything we’ve thrown at it, can this really be it?
The assembled warriors continued to watch in silence, waiting and hoping and praying to see the ultimate end of the cruel drama they'd been living.
The beast’s corpse continued to be pull
ed towards its intended prey, its body slowly being consumed by the oppressive heat.
As it drew closer and closer to the star, the creature’s remains started to smoke as the already charred pieces re-ignited. As it continued to plummet, its nearly-impervious hide finally succumbed to the nuclear inferno and its cadaver completely burst into flames. Its wings burned away like dry leaves, before its weakened chest crumpled inward and the Star Eater was reduced to an ashen blob. A moment later, and even its black remains were disintegrated into nothingness; the predator had been consumed by its indifferent prey.
Ansaria watched, completely enraptured by the final destruction of her nightmarish enemy. The bridge around her was silent, but the energy was entirely different. Throughout the battle, chatter amongst the bridge crew had been only related to their positions, the rest of the time spent in tense silence, waiting to see what insane new direction the battle would go. Now, the silence was one of stunned disbelief for some, while others felt the iron grip that had clenched their hearts for days if not weeks finally loosened, giving way to quiet, and grateful, relief.
Ansaria was the first to break the silence, aware that there was someone who deserved her congratulations.
Alvara’s comm. beeped, startling her from her transfixation on the blazing sun, the final resting place of the ashes of the Star Eater. She answered it.
“Great shot, M! That was one of your best!”
Ansaria’s words seemed to break the spell that had gripped the defenders. On the bridge of the Stormfront, the command staff let loose a collective triumphant shout, with some adding the clacking of claws or the stamping of heavy feet. On the Throneship, Alvara was mobbed by Tantius, Dr. Redavere, Herodotus and even Colonel Fornost. Ranyor shook his clasped upper hands above his head, while his lower arms continued to keep the Throneship steady in the turbulent area. On the Firestorm, Slog was pulled from his chair by the non-essential staff and hoisted above them, while Captain Krum slumped in his chair, one hand covering his weary eyes, but a small smile on his tusked lips. After a few moments of well-deserved revelry, it was Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest that reined them in.
“Back to your stations, people; this situation isn’t completely wrapped up yet, and we’ve still got an emperor to recover.”
The bridge members moved quickly to comply, but the electric, triumphant buzz of victory still permeated the air.
Ansaria’s reverie aboard the Stormfront was interrupted by her beeping comm.; seeing it was the Supreme Admiral, she motioned for everyone to be quiet before she answered.
“Admiral Eve’Rest, sir,”
“Captain Dormus, I’m ordering the Throneship to return to the Lightning staging ground in order to reestablish contact with the emperor, and I would like you and Sergeant Krunkle to join us in going on ahead while the rest of the ships catch up.”
“Of course, Admiral. Will I be teleported aboard?”
“We’re still too close to the star to attempt long range teleportation, but once your ships are closer, we will be able to safely transport you.”
“Understood, Admiral.”
The line went dead and she informed Minos of her new orders.
“I see,” he said, while the assembled ships received their command to rendezvous back with the rest of the fleet. “In that case, captain, allow me to say that you and your friends performed admirably today. I know many sacrificed to bring us victory, but I honestly do not believe we could have succeeded without any of you…or those newcomers with the impeccable timing.”
Ansaria mentally chided herself for forgetting about their puzzling savior. While their ships were closing the distance with the Throneship, their rearward cameras were keeping a close watch on the black ships, which were following at a respectful distance, but undoubtedly shadowing them.
“Maybe…Xandarius will know what to do about them.”
“Perhaps,” he lowered his voice and subtly indicated for her to come closer. “And regarding the order you gave before those ships arrived, I just wanted you to know that I would have done the same thing if it had just been me here.”
Ansaria wasn’t sure what to say. Her order had been a last, suicidal gamble, with likely little chance of success. She honestly wasn’t sure if she had wanted to go down fighting, or end the nightmare quickly.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Minos nodded sympathetically. “Indeed; desperate times, desperate measures and all that, I just want you to know that I think you made a sound call.”
The conversation was ended with the announcement that they had reached the teleportation range.
Ansaria looked around the bridge, aware that this would be the first time she was leaving it, and would likely not be coming back. She held out her hand.
“Thank you for lending me your ship, your crew, and your wisdom, Admiral Minos. I hope we will get to fight alongside you again someday.”
Minos took her hand and firmly grasped.
“It has been an honor to have you aboard my ship, captain. And don’t worry, I doubt this will be the last time we face overwhelming odds together.”
They broke the handshake, and Ansaria offered a crisp salute, which Minos returned. A moment later, a familiar white light filled her vision, and the bridge of the Stormfront disappeared.
While Ansaria could have immediately gone to the bridge from the teleport chamber, she decided to wait around for Slog.
When the bright flash of light subsided and the heavy footfalls of the Crag corporal could be heard, Ansaria unshielded her eyes and saw her friend strolling towards her. His smile doubled in size when he saw her, but he was taken aback when Ansaria quickly closed the distance and swept the stocky soldier up in a tight hug.
“You’ve got some timing, cap’n,” said Slog, shocked slightly by the embrace. “Did you have to wait until after I met a girl to show me how you really feel?”
Ansaria laughed and released her hold on Slog. He dropped a few feet to the ground, but landed solidly on his feet.
“I’m just glad to see you in one piece, Krunkle,” said Ansaria, playfully shoving her comrade. “I doubt Alvara’s gonna have time to collect more of your limbs now that she’s an even bigger war hero than me.”
Slog laughed and they set out for the bridge. Their elevator ride was mostly spent swapping tales about what moments they had each found most frightening.
When the doors opened revealing the bridge of the Throneship, they saw Alvara standing next to Eve’Rest and Fornost. The two commanders were staring out into the void, looking at what appeared to be a particular patch of nothing.
Alvara saw them first and gave a beaming smile that Ansaria couldn’t help but return. Guard Captain Fornost noticed their approach and alerted the Supreme Admiral, who turned to acknowledged them.
“The admiral has decided to open communication with the new arrivals. We’re awaiting their reply.”
Ansaria waited with trepidation, waiting to hear how they would respond. After a few moments, the Communications Officer telepathically spoke.
~I’m sorry sir, but they just keep sending the same message: ‘Our leader shall speak with your leader.’~
“Very well, than let us recover him. Depart.”
As soon as the rocky being spoke, the view of starless space was replaced with a purplish-black whirlpool. Ansaria was surprised that they were using a Z-Space jump in-system; apparently, the two ranking officers were that impatient to reestablish connection with the Emperor.
The trip through Z-Space lasted the blink of an eye. In a split second, the dome above her was filled by a dull brown planet and a mass of ships not far off.
Ansaria knew why they were there, but she still felt she needed to ask about the rest of her squad.
“Supreme Admiral, forgive my interruption, but I was wondering when the rest of my squad would be recovered.”
“The Mountain Storm is en-route to rendezvous with us. As soon as it arrives, we shall teleport the serg
eant and the corporal over.”
Ansaria accepted the news with a gracious incline of her head before falling silent. Truthfully, she was just as curious about the Emperor’s status as the rest of them.
The bridge fell silent as Supreme Admiral Eve’Rest opened a communication line with the teleportation team.
“Teleportation team, report.”
For a few moments, there was no response. Just as Eve’Rest was about to repeat his statement more harshly, the technician replied.
“We do have a solid reading on His Majesty, but…we cannot get a lock on to return him to the ship.”
“Why not? Is something blocking it? Is it the Imperium? Do they have a means to do that?”
“No, Admiral, sir, the signal isn’t being blocked, nor is it any kind of interference that I can explain.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Once again, the reply was a few moments in coming. “The signal is moving, sir… directly towards us.”
Ansaria saw looks of confusion that matched her own plastered across the face of nearly everyone present. The admiral’s blank visage meant that it was impossible for Ansaria to tell what it was feeling, but she had to imagine that even the experienced officer had been thrown through a loop.
“Explain, technician.”
“The Emperor is moving towards us at a speed that would suggest he is aboard an advanced vessel. Given his current velocity, he should reach us in the span of a few minutes.”
The Supreme Admiral digested this for a moment or two before replying. “Inform me immediately if anything changes,” said Eve’Rest before terminating the line. He turned to Fornost. “Do you think one of the black ships picked him up?”
“Possibly,” said Colonel Fornost quietly. “They could have sent a ship to pick him up, or one of them could have been shadowing the whole battle, observing, and when the rest appeared, it made contact with His Highness.”