Chapter 39
HMV Oberlander
Nen Dural System
“Shields holding at fifty three percent, sir,” Lieutenant Fleischmann said, a bead of sweat making its way down his forehead. The ship rumbled, not from the Druthagar’s attacks, but from the constant firing of the magnetic cannons. They swiveled to and fro, leaving warship after warship either destroyed or wounded enough to reconsider fighting the Oberlander.
“Too low for comfort, Lieutenant,” General Kindler hissed. A twinge of doubt in the man’s abilities ran through her head. Perhaps it was too soon for him to have been put in this position with his lack of experience. Then again, he had gotten them this far. But she was not about to stroke his ego and cause him to make a life threatening mistake. “It is your societal duty to ensure as many of the filthy Dwarven ships as possible are destroyed. Any less is not just a failure of yours but one of your entire family’s. They will pay the price if you do not improve your performance.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Colonel, what is our range to the station?” Kindler turned to Reinhardt, who studied the tactical board next to her with the utmost intensity. “Approximate time of arrival?”
“Two hundred thousand kilometers. If we continue our current trajectory, then we will swing around the majority of their forces and arrive in approximately fifteen minutes. However, I may have an idea.” He ran his finger across the board, drawing a line through some of the nearest Druthagar ships between them and the station. “There is a larger than normal gap in the Druthagar line here. We can cut through and widen it, halving our travel time.”
“Could that be a trap to lure us in?” Kindler expanded the section of the line, which was soon going to be behind them. “If it were me, I would provide an opening to get them behind my lines just to clamp it shut and destroy them.”
“That is always a possibility.” Reinhardt gestured to the shield level in the corner of the holographic projection. It already was down to fifty, flirting with a red line denoting danger levels. “But if we spend too long in this trench of death, we risk not making it because of that.”
“Very well.” Kindler moved to the edge of her platform and looked down at Lieutenant Mitsuyo. “Navigation, you are receiving new directions momentarily. Follow them to the letter. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied.
“Sir, we have run out of Stalker missiles,” Fleischmann said. “Weapons are reporting they have half a dozen Maelstrom missiles that have been earmarked for a special occasion. Shall we use those?”
Kindler’s neck nearly snapped as her glare locked onto the man at the tactical station. She walked to the section of her platform closest to him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw other analysts and technicians around the room stealing glances at them. She would deal with them later. There was a bigger fish—slightly bigger—to fry, so to speak.
“Lieutenant, if you have any value for your life, you will forget those missiles exist until I afford you the knowledge of them.” She wrapped her fingers around the railing, squeezing the metal until it dug into her palms. “We will get by with just the magnetic cannons and neutron beam emitters until such a time that those missiles are used.”
“My apologies, sir.” Fleischmann buried his head into his console once more.
“Two Druthagar warships appear to be moving to block our entrance, sir,” Mitsuyo said. “Shall we continue on course?”
“Assuming our tactical officer is the least bit competent in his position, we shouldn’t have a problem, Lieutenant.”
Kindler walked to the side of her platform nearest the viewscreen. True to their word, it displayed two of the smaller Druthagar warships moving into a position to serve as a blockade to the Oberlander. As she watched, the magnetic cannons on either side of the battleship turned and blazed brightly as they drove their five hundred millimeter shells into the hulls of the Druthagar ships. Large holes through the warships opened and steadily widened. Before long, both of the vessels exploded with a blue blaze. The flames—if they could even be described as such, seeing how they persisted even without oxygen—radiated in a hundred kilometer circle. A rumble ran through the Oberlander as they reached the hull, though the distance had dissipated the vast majority of the force. Kindler took a step back at the sudden change in color of the eruption.
“Tactical, analyze the composition of those ships. What was in them to cause them to explode like that?”
“It appears to have been tritinium, sir. Their cargo holds were full of it. I speculate they may have been planning to detonate once we got within the blast radius.”
“Where would they have gotten that much of it?” Kindler asked under her breath. The skeletons of the two suicide bombing warships steadily grew closer. Chunks of the wreckages bounced off the Oberlander before disappearing in their wake.
“Perhaps there is a saboteur on Stariek smuggling it off the planet,” Reinhardt replied. “The question is who.”
“It can’t be that simple.” Kindler shook her head. “Our intelligence agencies would have caught them. Not to mention no one in our society would dare commit such treason.”
“Maybe it was someone who has not had the time in our society to realize what is good for them or their comrades.”
“You are suggesting one of the Stariekians did it?” Kindler turned her head slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s a possibility,” Reinhardt said, shrugging. “We may never know the truth. We can only hypothesize.”
“Two minutes until we are within range of the station,” Mitsuyo said.
Kindler took the opportunity glance at the viewscreen. The station was rapidly approaching. It resembled nothing more than a giant egg, though there was an odd sense of grandiose about it. Metallic beams like filigree when from top to bottom. It sparkled with the light from the star they called Nen Dural—Cradle of Life. The juxtaposition between the name and what she intended to do here made her smile.
“General, one hundred and sixty-seven new contacts detected cresting from the opposite side of the planet.”
Kindler’s head snapped in Lieutenant Fleischmann’s direction. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t need to spend the time doing the math. There were no other Hyperion squadrons in the area—at least, none that Legate Zephyr bothered telling her about. Therefore, it was only possible they were more Druthagar warships. No matter what she told everyone else, the battle was always going to be laughably one-sided. There was no point in denying it.
Now, it was going to be nothing short of a massacre.
“Time before arrival, Lieutenant?” Kindler asked, maintaining the indifference she was known for. There was no point in panicking. Little could be done about the new enemies. It only mattered how long she had to wreak as much havoc as possible.
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“Eleven minutes, sir.”
“Plenty of time to carry out our mission then. Assign the new contacts the proper identification markers and repopulate the board.”
“Command,” Lieutenant Wentz said, “a signal just went out from the Celestial Phoenix, followed by a high bandwidth, encrypted transmission directly to the station. Frequency and data size correspond with a video transmission. Signals is currently attempting to decrypt it.”
“As soon as it is, I want to know exactly what they talked about.” Kindler paced from end to end of her platform, her heels clicking loudly with each step. Of course, she had a hunch: Admiral Hayes surrendered. She knew it may come to that. It was foolish to think it might have come later than it did.
“General, I suggest we abandon the mission.” Colonel Reinhardt stepped up behind her and hissed the words into her ear. “We can always withdraw and return another day, perhaps with a larger, more prepared force. If we lose the Oberlander…”
“If we lose the Oberlander, we will have done our societal duty, Colonel,” she snapped. She turned on her heel to look up at her XO, suddenly acutely aware of the fact he was a good head taller than her. “We are not going to surrender like the cowards from Stariek. Honor, bravery, loyalty, supremacy. If we die here, then we will be the spark that ignites a powder keg that ends in the destruction of the Druthagar.”
The ship rumbled with the impact of another magnetic cannon round penetrating their shields. Fleischmann called out the slowly dwindling shield integrity.
“Very well.” There was a glint of comprehension mixed with sadness in the colonel’s eyes. “I shall obey your command.”
“As you should.” Kindler stood above the navigation station and looked down at Mitsuyo. “Navigation, adjust heading to the Druthagar station. Flank speed.”
“Yes, sir.” If they had any concern for the change of course, their voice did not show it.
There was a faint tug as the inertial dampeners compensated for the sudden acceleration. Kindler gripped the railing with just two fingers to keep herself steady before the force was mitigated. She turned and walked ninety degrees around the platform and glanced down at Fleischmann. Even with his back to her, she could tell his brow was furrowed in concentration with the effort of targeting as many of the Druthagar warships as possible. Part of her wondered if she was too hard on him. Another knew, though, it was such severity that allowed her to become one of the youngest generals in Hyperion history.
It was such severity that was about to allow her to become one of the most successful generals in Hyperion history.
“Sir, signals has decrypted the transmission from the Celestial Phoenix.” Wentz cleared her throat, obviously stalling for time. “It appears they have surrendered to the enemy. They are being boarded now.”
“Traitors,” Kindler hissed, gripping the railing around the platform so tight her knuckles turned white. “Order any Hyperion ships in the area to destroy them at once.”
“All of our vessels in the area have either been disabled or destroyed, sir.”
“Very well.” Though she did her best to maintain her calm exterior, she couldn’t help but feel the rage surging through her. “We’re going to do this the hard way then.
“Tactical, continue targeting as many Druthagar ships as possible. Ready six Maelstrom missiles for launching at these points on the Druthagar station.” As she spoke, she sent a preset targeting diagram to the lieutenant. The Maelstrom missiles were aimed for points that would do the most damage: where the reactor was believed to be, the CIC, and areas of high population. “Make tubes one through six ready in all respects and open outer doors. Launch when we are within one hundred kilometers of the station.”
“Tube one through six ready and outer doors open. Current range to target is twenty-five thousand kilometers.”
“Colonel Reinhardt, what is the status of their defensive line?” Kindler was rocked by a rumble through the ship as if it meant to emphasize the question.
“Enemy forces have been diminished by fifty percent, sir.” Reinhardt pulled up a chart in the holographic projection next to the tactical map. “It looks like the Druthagar have captured the Celestial Phoenix and is towing it to a dry dock two hundred thousand kilometers away.”
“What about the rest of our fleet?”
“The Stariekians are completely decimated with the removal of the Celestial Phoenix. Very few escape pods launched, and none of their ships are remaining. The Sixth Squadron is showing ten percent readiness, but the Fifth is still at approximately half of its force.”
“Not good at all,” she muttered, stepping around and in front of him to look at the map for herself. The blue dots representing their ships were almost nonexistent compared to the mass of red for the Druthagar. All it would take, though, is one moment when they got in range of the station. Then she would be remembered forever.
“Entering launch range in five seconds,” Fleischmann said.
“Sir, I would recommend changing course to avoid ramming the station,” Mitsuyo said. They turned their head just slightly to look at the platform, allowing Kindler to see the look of concern on their face.
“Full speed ahead, Lieutenant.”
When the five seconds elapsed, six rumbles ran through the ship, one after the other every half a second. The missiles appeared on the tactical board when they cleared their launch bays. They rocketed forward, closing the short distance in no time. The point defense on the station—the presence of which surprised Kindler—did their best to swat down the missiles. However, the advanced AI in the Maelstroms easily evaded all defensive fire. Soon, they dug into the thick metal of the space station.
Explosions erupted where the missiles reached their targets. A blue wave radiated out from each point of impact. Large swaths of the station, ripped into small pieces, scattered outward, carried by the wave. The egg-like shape seemed to crack up the center with the detonations.
The Oberlander plowed onward. Kindler turned to Colonel Reinhardt.
“It was an honor serving the empire with you, Colonel.”
The battleship rocked violently as it hit the station, crumbling. She and Reinhardt both were thrown around like rag dolls. Screams pierced the air. A pain went through Kindler’s side as a ceiling panel pinned her to the ground. Soon, a white flash filled her vision, and she felt nothing but pure bliss followed by terrible agony. Then, nothing.
#
A ringing filled Thaseas’ ears. His vision swam as he looked around the room. The holoprojector was deactivated. Only the light from the runes embedded in the walls glowed. All other power seemed to be gone. The Astral Lords were thrown away from their desks, scattered across the floor. Pipes and conduits lay strewn across the ground. The floor was spotted by burns from electric arcs and scratches from metal paneling thrown from the walls.
A small metallic dog, recognizable even in his haze, slowly approached him, its footsteps sure and confident.
“What happened, Nergal?” Thaseas managed to hiss out. He tried to push himself to his feet before screaming in agony. Pain radiated through his leg. Looking down, a jagged shard of metal was embedded in his shin. Blood oozed out of the rip in the fabric of his robes, dripping to the ground. “By Khegnir, that hurts.”
The dog opened its mouth, projecting the familiar image of the orb even as Thaseas writhed on the ground and tried to stand. Its voice was muffled from the ringing in his ears. He struggled to make out the words.
“The Hyperion battleship has been assimilated.”
“Don’t you mean annihilated?” Thaseas managed to gasp out, grabbing the shaft of his axe to push himself upright. Pain radiated through the point where the shard dug into his leg.
“No. I do not make mistakes, High King. While the organics aboard it have been destroyed, the vessel itself has been assimilated. Their technology will be used to improve your own. Next time, they will be unable to get this close to destroying you.”
Thaseas took a step towards the door, nearly falling before he put almost all his weight on the axe rather than his legs. With a groan, he let his head fall, his chin touching his chest.
“What of the station? How many casualties after the stupid Hyperions rammed us?”
“The ramming itself was insignificant due to the assimilation process.” The dog stared up at Thaseas. Its head was cocked to the side in an eerie facsimile of the real animal. “The missiles hit relatively unpopulated areas of the station. Total death and injuries are coming in at just over five million. Five million, two thousand, one hundred and ninety five to be exact.”
“That’s unpopulated?” Thaseas tried pushing himself to the door once again but found his legs failing him. Finally, he fell to the ground, kneeling with one hand on the pommel of his upright axe.
“It is approximately zero point four zero four percent of the total population onboard the station. I destroyed many more of my creators in a single attack multiple times during the height of my power.”
“That’s reassuring.” Thaseas took a deep breath and pushed himself back to his feet. This time, his legs cooperated and he was able to walk unaided. His knees still wobbled with each step, but he steadily approached the door all the same. “What’s our next step?”
“Retaliation.” The dog followed in his wake. “The Hyperions have left themselves overextended and exposed. It is time to teach them a lesson.”
“Hopefully one they don’t learn from,” he added with a smirk. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
“Of course, my lord.” The dog brought its paws out in front of it in a bow. “I strive to serve you as a faithful adviser.”
The two walked from the room just as medical personnel rushed in to tend to the still unconscious Astral Lords. Some tried to get him to stay so they could help him, but he refused. Thaseas knew he had lots of work to do. Despite the pain coursing through his body, the thought of having completely routed a force from the supposedly strongest military in the galaxy brought a smile to his face. The Hyperions were not as invincible as they seemed. Not in the slightest.