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...I blame FlyingDebris.
*Ahem* A while ago I began brainstorming a rather lengthy storyline focusing on the social and civil issues of a race spread across the stars and the fight to rule one's self when outside authority becomes a mere idea instead of a fact. Something filled with a large repertoire of varied characters who don't always see eye to eye but often gun to gun. Something with an excess of glorious battle without ignoring the gravity of every life lost. Familiar names will be portrayed in a respectable light without the limitations of reality placed upon them.
The first few installments are going to be a bit scattered in setting, but that's required to show the state of the galaxy without just telling it like it is.
Oh, and as always I welcome feedback. Don't be afraid to post ideas, suggestions, or even requests.
Without further ado...
_________________________________________________________________________
“Hey, what’s wrong cap’? Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?”
Captain Fulke Demir relaxed when his partner in crime walked into the room with just as big a grin as possible. Or usual. Odis practically jumped onto the next stool, ignorant of it’s audible complaint at the sudden weight. He knocked on the smooth stone-like bar surface with a metal hand and ordered a pair of drinks from the stoically wordless barkeep.
“I’ve already had drinks and something to eat. It would be irresponsible for me to have any mo- Wait…” Fulke’s glare increased in intensity, “Shouldn’t you be helping with the gravitic sensors right now?”
“Hah, man, that was finished up an hour ago! Ran a scan on every rock in the system jus’ to make sure.”
“Hmmmm… Good…” The captain received a mug full of whatever insanely strong drink Odis ordered for him and took a sip followed quickly by a swig.
His attention focused on the display screen mounted on the wall in front of him, beaming him information and false-3D video clips from the Trading Guild’s various news sources... New terran planet discovered and a gate being activated in it’s system; not necessarily the most exciting news but a planet that doesn’t require massive ongoing terraformation is better than any alternative...
More backroom political dealings between the Perseus factions; they’re always getting into trouble with each other in one way or another. Everyone who has even a single enemy is forever in an arms race to see who can make the largest and shiniest gun, even if they never plan to use it...
Another possibly revolutionary building material discovered growing within the tissues of an alien race recently cataloged. Engineering moves too fast for anyone to keep up. Even with signals being relayed between the Human Sol's gates, information can take years to reach the outermost regions of Humanity's domain.
Fulke’s daze was interrupted by his technician friend, who was still smiling despite the concern etched into his words. “No, really, cap’. What’s wrong?”
“I uh… I guess I am just a little bit more bored than usual. Bored and restless. F***ing patrol duty.”
Odis laughed away a little bit of Fulke’s depression. “Far as I’m concerned we’re gettin’ paid to do nuthin’! If you’re really that bored just ‘cause you’re not getting shot at, you need to get into some sims.”
“”No thank you, I don’t want-”
“Your brain frying? Man, that’s flabberjockey and you know it!”
The captain downed another few gulps of drink under Odis’ sidelong smirk. “I’ll see if I am interested in a while. Not right now though.”
“Good enough for me.” Odis sighed, as is his habit when lying.
Silence fell between the two as they slowly worked towards finishing their glasses. Odis emptied his first, the silent barkeep already there to pick up the mug just as he pushed it forward. His mechanical hand rubbed at his temple. “I came here to cheer ya up, cap’. If you keep frownin', you’ll end up makin’ me miserable too.”
“Y- Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m going to head to the front and indulge myself. Some fool at the local station has been tryin’ to topple the scoreboards on me. Next time you’re too bored to sleep, meet up with me.”
With that he thanked the bartender and waved himself out of the room, still with his unending smile.
The universe allotted Fulke a few minutes of quiet thought before the chip in his right ear gave off a sharp warning beep. A synthetic female voice chimed in immediately afterwards, emanating from his earpiece. “Captain, your presence is required on the command deck immediately.”
His fatigue was forced away as he jumped up, nearly knocking over his mug. He gave a quick ‘thank you’ to the barkeep, who bowed and mutely mouthed the same words in reply. With renewed vigor he strode across the room and through a doorway that silently opened at his approach.
“Finally. On my way.”
The atmosphere changed drastically when the lounge door slid shut behind him. Shining and rounded surfaces were replaced by industrial shapes and dull metallic hues. Personnel tread a grilled floor in the five meter wide hallway in a perpetual rush. The fifty one men and women serving aboard the Guild’s Alleon all seemed to mobilize at once, the telltale sign of impending excitement.
“Give me a sitrep.”
“The Guild has alerted us to the presence of an unknown quantity of hostiles identified as belonging to a pirate group relocating through the area. The G.S. Ridgeback is stationed at the other end of the gate but is lacking comprehensive fighter screening or heavy sensor arrays. While pirate vessels are usually incapable of damaging Guild capital ships, the G.S. Alleon has been asked to make up for the Ridgeback’s lack of fighter screen by providing a net to catch any enemy craft nimble enough to make it past the battlecruiser. Intelligence on the hostiles is limited. The Guild expects heavy use of electronic warfare suites and sensor dampening. Recommendations: Use of low-energy radiation scanners and drone interceptors.”
Fulke grunted his agreement and pushed past a particularly crowded section of the hallway where everyone nodded to their captain in respect. He continued, silently cursing the Alleon’s lack of on-board transportation. The vessel wasn’t immensely large; measuring an even 400 meters from bow to stern. Only 120 of that included habitable space and much less of that was hallway, where intersections tend to be the human equivalent of a four way stop nobody stops at.
The command deck was darkened, lit only by a holographic display of the sector emanating from a large glass-topped table littered with colored and labelled buttons. A ‘window’ screen relayed optical feed from cameras located on the hull, giving the deck a clear view of the soft red nebula, lit by a cacophony of dying and newborn stars. The ominous black torus of the warp gate refused to be affected by the ambient light.
The usual assortment of officers was present at the table, pointing and discussing. Fulke joined them and excused himself. “Apologies, I was in the lounge.”
The ship’s communications officer jumped on the opportunity. “About damn time you gave that stick a break!”
“Your timing could use improvement yourself.” He despised distracting humor on the command deck. Doubly so when there was a possibility of lives being at stake. Erika had wiles and a knack for getting her point across to people who perhaps didn’t always enjoy their work. On a Guild ship where the crew changes as often as the mission, Fulke respected one of the two merits.
“Back to the routine, I guess…” She turned to the tactical officer across from her and leaned in towards the holographic display. “Iki, lets fill in the captain.”
Erkki ran his hand back through his hair, completely unnecessary due to recently having it cut to a glimmer of it’s former glory to fit within Guild regulation. His hair was not the only thing he had to give up to secure a stable home and life with the Guild; he was the last of a long line of ‘family business’ bounty hunters finally put out of business. “You mean just me? Fine… Comp, reset the tacmap and follow my lead.”
“Affirmative, sir.”
Fulke leaned forward over the table. Towards the center of the display was the largest object, a colossal ring that measured almost four kilometers in diameter; a warp gate. The monolithic structure was placed there half a century ago by the Human Sol to facilitate Humanity’s expansion. When they were opened, the frontier gates were abuzz with activity… But as asteroid fields were mined out and planets cataloged, the nearby star systems began to lose value. Now the only use that the gates received was the occasional traveler, researcher, or trade hauler bringing supplies to sell to those who choose to live in the sleepy area.
The display turned 90* and focused on the gate.
“The gate is the only choke point available to us, so m- our plan is to turn the gate’s exit into an impassable crossfire.”
The screen zoomed out and panned to the right, refocusing on another large object; the local station, a half-abandoned asteroid mining base where the majority of those who legally remain in the system live. It was shoddily built, and shows. Gravity generators regularly break, half the turret defenses were ‘out of order’, and the AI core was non-existent.
“The nearby mining base overlooking the exit area of the gate is more of an asset than it looks. It’s defenses include a trio of kinetic ‘push’ pulsed beam weapons and a pair of long range sensor-guided missile launchers. Excellent for disrupting the flight path of fleeing hostiles. Acting commander Andres Hughes has given us the go-ahead on linking our fire control center to their weaponry. We will have total control of the beam and missile hardpoints and will use the station’s weaponry to disrupt the enemy formations long enough to make use of our other resources.”
Fulke nodded. ‘At least this Mr. Hughes is willing to cooperate.’
The screen panned wide to the left, past the gate. It focused on the Alleon, Fulke’s vessel. It stood in stark contrast to the dark gate and decrepit asteroid base; newly built with recent modular technology that allows large portions of the ship hull to be separately built and put together without a major reduction in structural integrity.
“Our own anti-capital cannon systems should be sufficient to deal with smaller craft due to their emergence from the gate at a predictable location. Never the less, our turret systems are already networked with local IFF readings due to our lack of intel. We only have two flights of drones available for dispersion, but if we keep their formation tight and our opponent’s loose they should be able to intercept enemy craft as they try to dodge the Alleon’s larger weapons.”
The map zoomed out and Fulke looked over his shoulder. The gate stood silent, a ring of nothing. A shiver ran down his spine, even with the gate as lifeless as it has been. There was going to be combat on the other side of it. People dying. Granted, it would be pirates biting it…
Captain Demir moved between the table and the window, where the lighting was best. He looked over the holographic display that showed the projected positions of his forces. Mock enemies emerged from the gate into the full firepower of the Alleon, the base within the mined-out asteroid, and two wings of drones in a tight shield formation.
Erkki vainly smiled at the graphics. “Anything to add, captain?”
The response was instant. “Yes. Murphy is our opponent. What is the plan when a commandeered Ridgeback jumps through the gate.”
He lowered his eyes from Fulke’s intent stare and back to the table. After a moment’s silence he responded, his tone more serious. “Even with… Yes, even if they somehow catch wind of our formation before the jump, the Ridgeback wouldn’t have the tools to deal with multiple angles of attack. They would be shredded.”
“Excellent.” Fulke turned and began to watch the gate intently. “Inform the guild that we are starting the operation.”
“Roger!”
The officers began inputting commands to the crew, both by voice and through the buttons splayed across the surface of the table.
The space behind the Alleon was colored a calming blue as unstably high numbers of ionized particles flooded empty space. The Alleon’s massive thrusters began to put out force and the four-hundred meter hulk of high-energy particle shields, armor plating, and weaponry began to accelerate.
“We are nearing position, now beginning a hard to port maneuver.” The computer’s emotionless voice warned the captain of the maneuver, and the gravitic stabilizers worked overtime to make up the difference in momentum. The only thing the crew felt was a slight change in gravity strength.
On the tactical display a pair of rack-mounted drone wings launched and zipped across the center to take up a position diagonal to the Alleon.
“We are now in battle formation. All weapons aligned with point of target emergence” The computer’s synthetic voice gave no hints of eager anticipation or worry. Everything else did.
Several moments passed in silence broken only by the occasional statement or inquiry from the command officers working their stations.
‘C’mon’ Fulke bit his lip. It wasn’t often that pirates moved through this backwater region, and the ones who did were just using this route to get to more populated areas. If any managed to get past this choke point it would be difficult to hunt them down.
The computer’s sudden “Contact.” caused Fulke to jolt himself from thought.
The red space within the gate’s grasp began to shimmer and darken, the once static nebulae perversely twisting into each other. The gate was active.
...
...
...
A final ripple seemed to make the space behind the gate disappear completely. A blackness consumed the area and strained against the frame of the gate that imprisoned it.
Erika cleared her throat. “...Late, but we have received a high-rad’ comms burst from the Ridgeback. It’s highly distorted, we can’t make out m-”
The gate finally materialized it’s trespassers.
“Target IFF confirmed; hostile-”
“Shit!! GET US OUT OF HERE!” Fulke jumped away from the screen in terror and tripped onto the table. The weight of his elbow broke the display, and the floating 3D image of the battlefield distorted itself around the captain, surrounding him with-
Erkki nearly panicked, screaming “Engines flank speed NOW!”
“-reading, allegiance ID: Verduran Lance; ship ID: Verduran Free Ship, dreadnought, ‘Regent Draconis’-”
“No! Shut up! RETREAT! That is not a pirate ship!”
“-estimated support vessels: 58 frigate, eight destroyer, five cruiser, two battlecruiser, one battleship, one carrier.”
Back on his feet, Fulke swore, “FUCK YOU COMPUTER.”
“Please restrain yourself during battlefield operations, captain. Brace for impact.” The computer droned back.
He punched the screen in front of him and looked the beast in it’s eye just long enough to see it look back at him.
A winged angel of red, grey, and black came into existence. At it’s front was a serrated blade of glowing white; a ram meant to pierce and skewer a beast of metal much like a knife would a beast of flesh. The glowing edge of the blade splits over the top and bottom of the vessel’s vaguely triangular front hull section, which widened as it lead backwards to the ship’s extensive rear. At both sides and angled downwards were a pair of forward-swept wings. The leading edge of each portion a razor sharp reminder of the Regent’s predatory status. Black recesses patterned across the thicker grey armor, both layers perfectly smooth, and occasionally housed a tiny orange dot of light. Behind the Regent space is tinted an alien purple from the Mitzi drives that forced the 900 meter long dreadnought forward at an alarming pace.
The Alleon’s computer controlled cannon turrets belched particles as 2-ton metal slugs were propelled to a significant portion of the speed of light. The slugs impacted against the shield barrier covering the Regent, their mass torn to subatomic shreds and dispelled by the layer of excited particles held in suspension just above armor plates. The only evidence of the Alleon’s volley was the fading glow of the shield’s heat.
But a few seconds after the Regent Draconis entered the system it collided with the smaller capital ship. The shields of both vessels sparked violently as the Regent’s prow-blade pierced the Alleon through the abdomen and ground inwards steadily for a few seconds more before finally stopping over fifty meters inside the enemy vessel. Lit by thousands of electric outburst as shield particles smashed against each other, the wounded Alleon leaked fuel and atmosphere into the space surrounding the stab... But would not have to endure the pain for long.
The metal plating around the prey’s wound began to sizzle and deform as the Regent’s spinal beam charged and then fired in a blinding stream of white light. The beam weapon punched through the Alleon and nearly hit the asteroid base behind it, flooding everything nearby with errant radiation. The Trade Guild battlecruiser gave one last sputtering cough of escaped gases before detonating, still skewered to the front of the Regent.
The Alleon’s midsection nearly atomized, the only evidence of its existence was a cloud of raw elements and the occasional chunk of metal or worse. The rapidly expanding cloud glimmered subtly, reflecting the deep red lights of the Regent’s reactor radiators into a faint halo of blood.
The mining station launched a pair of missiles, but was only a token resistance as they impacted harmlessly against the barrier of hyperactive particles shielding the dreadnought. The turrets were quickly vaporized by the Regent’s own, nearly invisible in their black-on-black mountings on the vessel’s wings. High energy beam weapons melted through the decrepit station’s defenses and detonated it’s missile munitions, rendering it harmless as the predator approached the now silent stone hamlet with the remains of it’s past prey reflecting upon the Regent’s glory.
*Ahem* A while ago I began brainstorming a rather lengthy storyline focusing on the social and civil issues of a race spread across the stars and the fight to rule one's self when outside authority becomes a mere idea instead of a fact. Something filled with a large repertoire of varied characters who don't always see eye to eye but often gun to gun. Something with an excess of glorious battle without ignoring the gravity of every life lost. Familiar names will be portrayed in a respectable light without the limitations of reality placed upon them.
The first few installments are going to be a bit scattered in setting, but that's required to show the state of the galaxy without just telling it like it is.
Oh, and as always I welcome feedback. Don't be afraid to post ideas, suggestions, or even requests.
Without further ado...
_________________________________________________________________________
“Hey, what’s wrong cap’? Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?”
Captain Fulke Demir relaxed when his partner in crime walked into the room with just as big a grin as possible. Or usual. Odis practically jumped onto the next stool, ignorant of it’s audible complaint at the sudden weight. He knocked on the smooth stone-like bar surface with a metal hand and ordered a pair of drinks from the stoically wordless barkeep.
“I’ve already had drinks and something to eat. It would be irresponsible for me to have any mo- Wait…” Fulke’s glare increased in intensity, “Shouldn’t you be helping with the gravitic sensors right now?”
“Hah, man, that was finished up an hour ago! Ran a scan on every rock in the system jus’ to make sure.”
“Hmmmm… Good…” The captain received a mug full of whatever insanely strong drink Odis ordered for him and took a sip followed quickly by a swig.
His attention focused on the display screen mounted on the wall in front of him, beaming him information and false-3D video clips from the Trading Guild’s various news sources... New terran planet discovered and a gate being activated in it’s system; not necessarily the most exciting news but a planet that doesn’t require massive ongoing terraformation is better than any alternative...
More backroom political dealings between the Perseus factions; they’re always getting into trouble with each other in one way or another. Everyone who has even a single enemy is forever in an arms race to see who can make the largest and shiniest gun, even if they never plan to use it...
Another possibly revolutionary building material discovered growing within the tissues of an alien race recently cataloged. Engineering moves too fast for anyone to keep up. Even with signals being relayed between the Human Sol's gates, information can take years to reach the outermost regions of Humanity's domain.
Fulke’s daze was interrupted by his technician friend, who was still smiling despite the concern etched into his words. “No, really, cap’. What’s wrong?”
“I uh… I guess I am just a little bit more bored than usual. Bored and restless. F***ing patrol duty.”
Odis laughed away a little bit of Fulke’s depression. “Far as I’m concerned we’re gettin’ paid to do nuthin’! If you’re really that bored just ‘cause you’re not getting shot at, you need to get into some sims.”
“”No thank you, I don’t want-”
“Your brain frying? Man, that’s flabberjockey and you know it!”
The captain downed another few gulps of drink under Odis’ sidelong smirk. “I’ll see if I am interested in a while. Not right now though.”
“Good enough for me.” Odis sighed, as is his habit when lying.
Silence fell between the two as they slowly worked towards finishing their glasses. Odis emptied his first, the silent barkeep already there to pick up the mug just as he pushed it forward. His mechanical hand rubbed at his temple. “I came here to cheer ya up, cap’. If you keep frownin', you’ll end up makin’ me miserable too.”
“Y- Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m going to head to the front and indulge myself. Some fool at the local station has been tryin’ to topple the scoreboards on me. Next time you’re too bored to sleep, meet up with me.”
With that he thanked the bartender and waved himself out of the room, still with his unending smile.
The universe allotted Fulke a few minutes of quiet thought before the chip in his right ear gave off a sharp warning beep. A synthetic female voice chimed in immediately afterwards, emanating from his earpiece. “Captain, your presence is required on the command deck immediately.”
His fatigue was forced away as he jumped up, nearly knocking over his mug. He gave a quick ‘thank you’ to the barkeep, who bowed and mutely mouthed the same words in reply. With renewed vigor he strode across the room and through a doorway that silently opened at his approach.
“Finally. On my way.”
The atmosphere changed drastically when the lounge door slid shut behind him. Shining and rounded surfaces were replaced by industrial shapes and dull metallic hues. Personnel tread a grilled floor in the five meter wide hallway in a perpetual rush. The fifty one men and women serving aboard the Guild’s Alleon all seemed to mobilize at once, the telltale sign of impending excitement.
“Give me a sitrep.”
“The Guild has alerted us to the presence of an unknown quantity of hostiles identified as belonging to a pirate group relocating through the area. The G.S. Ridgeback is stationed at the other end of the gate but is lacking comprehensive fighter screening or heavy sensor arrays. While pirate vessels are usually incapable of damaging Guild capital ships, the G.S. Alleon has been asked to make up for the Ridgeback’s lack of fighter screen by providing a net to catch any enemy craft nimble enough to make it past the battlecruiser. Intelligence on the hostiles is limited. The Guild expects heavy use of electronic warfare suites and sensor dampening. Recommendations: Use of low-energy radiation scanners and drone interceptors.”
Fulke grunted his agreement and pushed past a particularly crowded section of the hallway where everyone nodded to their captain in respect. He continued, silently cursing the Alleon’s lack of on-board transportation. The vessel wasn’t immensely large; measuring an even 400 meters from bow to stern. Only 120 of that included habitable space and much less of that was hallway, where intersections tend to be the human equivalent of a four way stop nobody stops at.
The command deck was darkened, lit only by a holographic display of the sector emanating from a large glass-topped table littered with colored and labelled buttons. A ‘window’ screen relayed optical feed from cameras located on the hull, giving the deck a clear view of the soft red nebula, lit by a cacophony of dying and newborn stars. The ominous black torus of the warp gate refused to be affected by the ambient light.
The usual assortment of officers was present at the table, pointing and discussing. Fulke joined them and excused himself. “Apologies, I was in the lounge.”
The ship’s communications officer jumped on the opportunity. “About damn time you gave that stick a break!”
“Your timing could use improvement yourself.” He despised distracting humor on the command deck. Doubly so when there was a possibility of lives being at stake. Erika had wiles and a knack for getting her point across to people who perhaps didn’t always enjoy their work. On a Guild ship where the crew changes as often as the mission, Fulke respected one of the two merits.
“Back to the routine, I guess…” She turned to the tactical officer across from her and leaned in towards the holographic display. “Iki, lets fill in the captain.”
Erkki ran his hand back through his hair, completely unnecessary due to recently having it cut to a glimmer of it’s former glory to fit within Guild regulation. His hair was not the only thing he had to give up to secure a stable home and life with the Guild; he was the last of a long line of ‘family business’ bounty hunters finally put out of business. “You mean just me? Fine… Comp, reset the tacmap and follow my lead.”
“Affirmative, sir.”
Fulke leaned forward over the table. Towards the center of the display was the largest object, a colossal ring that measured almost four kilometers in diameter; a warp gate. The monolithic structure was placed there half a century ago by the Human Sol to facilitate Humanity’s expansion. When they were opened, the frontier gates were abuzz with activity… But as asteroid fields were mined out and planets cataloged, the nearby star systems began to lose value. Now the only use that the gates received was the occasional traveler, researcher, or trade hauler bringing supplies to sell to those who choose to live in the sleepy area.
The display turned 90* and focused on the gate.
“The gate is the only choke point available to us, so m- our plan is to turn the gate’s exit into an impassable crossfire.”
The screen zoomed out and panned to the right, refocusing on another large object; the local station, a half-abandoned asteroid mining base where the majority of those who legally remain in the system live. It was shoddily built, and shows. Gravity generators regularly break, half the turret defenses were ‘out of order’, and the AI core was non-existent.
“The nearby mining base overlooking the exit area of the gate is more of an asset than it looks. It’s defenses include a trio of kinetic ‘push’ pulsed beam weapons and a pair of long range sensor-guided missile launchers. Excellent for disrupting the flight path of fleeing hostiles. Acting commander Andres Hughes has given us the go-ahead on linking our fire control center to their weaponry. We will have total control of the beam and missile hardpoints and will use the station’s weaponry to disrupt the enemy formations long enough to make use of our other resources.”
Fulke nodded. ‘At least this Mr. Hughes is willing to cooperate.’
The screen panned wide to the left, past the gate. It focused on the Alleon, Fulke’s vessel. It stood in stark contrast to the dark gate and decrepit asteroid base; newly built with recent modular technology that allows large portions of the ship hull to be separately built and put together without a major reduction in structural integrity.
“Our own anti-capital cannon systems should be sufficient to deal with smaller craft due to their emergence from the gate at a predictable location. Never the less, our turret systems are already networked with local IFF readings due to our lack of intel. We only have two flights of drones available for dispersion, but if we keep their formation tight and our opponent’s loose they should be able to intercept enemy craft as they try to dodge the Alleon’s larger weapons.”
The map zoomed out and Fulke looked over his shoulder. The gate stood silent, a ring of nothing. A shiver ran down his spine, even with the gate as lifeless as it has been. There was going to be combat on the other side of it. People dying. Granted, it would be pirates biting it…
Captain Demir moved between the table and the window, where the lighting was best. He looked over the holographic display that showed the projected positions of his forces. Mock enemies emerged from the gate into the full firepower of the Alleon, the base within the mined-out asteroid, and two wings of drones in a tight shield formation.
Erkki vainly smiled at the graphics. “Anything to add, captain?”
The response was instant. “Yes. Murphy is our opponent. What is the plan when a commandeered Ridgeback jumps through the gate.”
He lowered his eyes from Fulke’s intent stare and back to the table. After a moment’s silence he responded, his tone more serious. “Even with… Yes, even if they somehow catch wind of our formation before the jump, the Ridgeback wouldn’t have the tools to deal with multiple angles of attack. They would be shredded.”
“Excellent.” Fulke turned and began to watch the gate intently. “Inform the guild that we are starting the operation.”
“Roger!”
The officers began inputting commands to the crew, both by voice and through the buttons splayed across the surface of the table.
The space behind the Alleon was colored a calming blue as unstably high numbers of ionized particles flooded empty space. The Alleon’s massive thrusters began to put out force and the four-hundred meter hulk of high-energy particle shields, armor plating, and weaponry began to accelerate.
“We are nearing position, now beginning a hard to port maneuver.” The computer’s emotionless voice warned the captain of the maneuver, and the gravitic stabilizers worked overtime to make up the difference in momentum. The only thing the crew felt was a slight change in gravity strength.
On the tactical display a pair of rack-mounted drone wings launched and zipped across the center to take up a position diagonal to the Alleon.
“We are now in battle formation. All weapons aligned with point of target emergence” The computer’s synthetic voice gave no hints of eager anticipation or worry. Everything else did.
Several moments passed in silence broken only by the occasional statement or inquiry from the command officers working their stations.
‘C’mon’ Fulke bit his lip. It wasn’t often that pirates moved through this backwater region, and the ones who did were just using this route to get to more populated areas. If any managed to get past this choke point it would be difficult to hunt them down.
The computer’s sudden “Contact.” caused Fulke to jolt himself from thought.
The red space within the gate’s grasp began to shimmer and darken, the once static nebulae perversely twisting into each other. The gate was active.
...
...
...
A final ripple seemed to make the space behind the gate disappear completely. A blackness consumed the area and strained against the frame of the gate that imprisoned it.
Erika cleared her throat. “...Late, but we have received a high-rad’ comms burst from the Ridgeback. It’s highly distorted, we can’t make out m-”
The gate finally materialized it’s trespassers.
“Target IFF confirmed; hostile-”
“Shit!! GET US OUT OF HERE!” Fulke jumped away from the screen in terror and tripped onto the table. The weight of his elbow broke the display, and the floating 3D image of the battlefield distorted itself around the captain, surrounding him with-
Erkki nearly panicked, screaming “Engines flank speed NOW!”
“-reading, allegiance ID: Verduran Lance; ship ID: Verduran Free Ship, dreadnought, ‘Regent Draconis’-”
“No! Shut up! RETREAT! That is not a pirate ship!”
“-estimated support vessels: 58 frigate, eight destroyer, five cruiser, two battlecruiser, one battleship, one carrier.”
Back on his feet, Fulke swore, “FUCK YOU COMPUTER.”
“Please restrain yourself during battlefield operations, captain. Brace for impact.” The computer droned back.
He punched the screen in front of him and looked the beast in it’s eye just long enough to see it look back at him.
A winged angel of red, grey, and black came into existence. At it’s front was a serrated blade of glowing white; a ram meant to pierce and skewer a beast of metal much like a knife would a beast of flesh. The glowing edge of the blade splits over the top and bottom of the vessel’s vaguely triangular front hull section, which widened as it lead backwards to the ship’s extensive rear. At both sides and angled downwards were a pair of forward-swept wings. The leading edge of each portion a razor sharp reminder of the Regent’s predatory status. Black recesses patterned across the thicker grey armor, both layers perfectly smooth, and occasionally housed a tiny orange dot of light. Behind the Regent space is tinted an alien purple from the Mitzi drives that forced the 900 meter long dreadnought forward at an alarming pace.
The Alleon’s computer controlled cannon turrets belched particles as 2-ton metal slugs were propelled to a significant portion of the speed of light. The slugs impacted against the shield barrier covering the Regent, their mass torn to subatomic shreds and dispelled by the layer of excited particles held in suspension just above armor plates. The only evidence of the Alleon’s volley was the fading glow of the shield’s heat.
But a few seconds after the Regent Draconis entered the system it collided with the smaller capital ship. The shields of both vessels sparked violently as the Regent’s prow-blade pierced the Alleon through the abdomen and ground inwards steadily for a few seconds more before finally stopping over fifty meters inside the enemy vessel. Lit by thousands of electric outburst as shield particles smashed against each other, the wounded Alleon leaked fuel and atmosphere into the space surrounding the stab... But would not have to endure the pain for long.
The metal plating around the prey’s wound began to sizzle and deform as the Regent’s spinal beam charged and then fired in a blinding stream of white light. The beam weapon punched through the Alleon and nearly hit the asteroid base behind it, flooding everything nearby with errant radiation. The Trade Guild battlecruiser gave one last sputtering cough of escaped gases before detonating, still skewered to the front of the Regent.
The Alleon’s midsection nearly atomized, the only evidence of its existence was a cloud of raw elements and the occasional chunk of metal or worse. The rapidly expanding cloud glimmered subtly, reflecting the deep red lights of the Regent’s reactor radiators into a faint halo of blood.
The mining station launched a pair of missiles, but was only a token resistance as they impacted harmlessly against the barrier of hyperactive particles shielding the dreadnought. The turrets were quickly vaporized by the Regent’s own, nearly invisible in their black-on-black mountings on the vessel’s wings. High energy beam weapons melted through the decrepit station’s defenses and detonated it’s missile munitions, rendering it harmless as the predator approached the now silent stone hamlet with the remains of it’s past prey reflecting upon the Regent’s glory.
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