Chapter 64

HMV Star’s Eclipse

Stariek Orbit

25 March 3303

“Damage report!” Legate Kasen Morgan gripped the rail surrounding the command platform to keep from being thrown about. It felt as if he was back on New Louisiana, on one of his family’s shrimping boats as a child when it passed over a particularly large wave. Even being a larger man, he couldn’t imagine what would have happened if he didn’t instinctively grab onto the railing. At the least, he would’ve ended up like one of the ratings he saw go flying into one of their consoles.

The bridge of the Star’s Eclipse descended into chaos a few minutes prior. Nothing Morgan did or said could have prepared them for what they were experiencing. Despite his best efforts, morale was rapidly dwindling. No amount of patriotism for Hyperia and their society could overcome the overwhelming odds they faced.

Sparks flew from overloaded power conduits. Cables lay unattended on the ground. Beams from the ceiling hung low. Many of the enlisted ratings and even a few of the junior officers lay crumbled on the ground. Others were being tended to by the medical team. Luckily, they still had enough of their crew to put up a fight even in the face of despair. Even if they weren’t able to make their way out, they could at least take as many of the enemy with them as they were able to before the inevitable.

“Decks seven through seventeen are suffering breaches between frames nine and sixty.” General Elin Reichwein sat strapped into her chair. The belts were fastened as tight as they went, digging into her skin. Her console was cracked from a pipe that struck it before clattering to the ground. “Venting atmosphere, but they have been closed off. Damage reports are still coming in.”

Morgan gritted his teeth. The damned Druthagar got the drop on them. Someone had squealed. There was no other explanation for their knowing how much force they needed to attack with at the station. The question was who. However, it was one that he didn’t know if he needed the answer to at that moment. After all, they might not live through the battle. The Seventh Fleet was outnumbered nearly ten to one. Never had the Hyperion Empire experienced such horrible odds.

Still, best to do what he could. Morgan straightened up and pulled his jumpsuit down to remove any creases. He looked at the holoprojector and chose his next target. There was certainly no shortage of those. Over a hundred smaller ships, ranging from frigates to cruisers, surrounded the Star’s Eclipse like a swarm of incessant flies.

“Tactical, target Victors Seven Seven Three, One Two Two Four, and Two Four One Seven with neutron beams and magnetic cannons.” The enormous carrier at least had enough weapons to target multiple enemies at once, which evened the odds ever so slightly. Morgan gave Lieutenant Hyon-Ju a moment to program the firing procedure. “Matching bearings, shoot, neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

On a smaller ship, the rumbling magnetic cannons—four dozen across either side of the ship and each with over a two meter diameter—would have been felt through the deck as they unleashed their payload. On the Star’s Eclipse, it was as if nothing even happened. The tactical plot, however, showed a different pictured as each of the three targeted ships disappeared from the battlefield.

“Targets destroyed,” Hyon-Ju confirmed.

“Ventral shields nearing collapse,” called out Reichwein.

“Roll us to show our dorsal side to the enemy, Navigation.” Though the inertial compensators and artificial gravity made it appear as if nothing happened, the viewport at the far side showed the battlefield rotating in place. “XO, status of our fighter squadrons?”

“All our fighters and bombers are in the void, sir.” Reichwein pulled up a status indicator of the small craft. “The last hundred left the flight deck just a few moments ago. Four thousand fighters, one thousand two hundred bombers.”

“Excellent. Perhaps they will be enough to give us an edge over these infidels.” Morgan smirked. Even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t believable. No one had any inclination they would be successful in this battle.

A rumble ran through the ship, nearly causing Morgan to fall from the command platform. Only his grip on the railing kept him upright.

“Legate, urgent update from engineering,” General Reichwein called out. “Antimatter containment field destabilizing. They are requesting permission to scram it.”

“Shit,” Morgan muttered under his breath. He gripped the railing tighter. If they deactivated the reactor, they’d have to rely on the woefully ineffective in combat battery backups until it was safe to turn it back on. By the time that happened, they’d be dead. If they left it on, it would explode, and they’d be dead. That left only one choice. “Tell them permission denied. Tactical, target all nearby enemies at your discretion.”

“Yes, sir,” Hyon-Ju said.

His hands immediately began flying over his console like a concert pianist. There was no point in micromanaging the officer’s actions in that moment. In a normal combat environment, it would have allowed for more effective targeting of hostile forces. This environment, however, was far from normal. All his orders would have done was slow him down.

His mind went back to when he arrived in the Draconis System, when Legate Zephyr brought up the unofficial moniker others had given him. Apparently, the Unbroken Standard has finally broken. He grimaced at the thought. At least he was giving the Emperor whatever time he needed to escape. That was his duty to society.

Morgan watched as icon after icon in the vicinity of the massive carrier disappeared. A whine began to build from somewhere in the ship. Morgan turned his head slightly towards it. The sound was not one he had ever heard before, though there had been descriptions of it when he first was briefed on the antimatter reactors. It was the telltale sign of it overloading. If it wasn’t deactivated now, it would explode. Of course, the chief engineer would never dare commit such an act without a direct order.

He didn’t give it. Instead, he watched as Hyon-Ju continued destroying ship after ship. A different man at the communications station coordinated their attacks with the the thousands of fighters and bombers in the void. It would have been a sight to behold under any other circumstances. Under these ones, Morgan was devoid of emotion. There was no point. All he could do was his duty to society. That much, he at least guaranteed.

Morgan wished he could see the eruption when the whine built to a roar. As it was, that wasn’t going to happen. The last thing he felt was a blistering heat followed by blissful nothingness.

#

SF-17 Starhawk

Stariek Atmosphere

Luca glanced at the tactical overlay sent to his CAM via the starfighter’s networked connection. Though the transmitter was disabled and prevented communications from going through, it still allowed for it to be linked into the tactical network. A blessing and a curse. He and Amelia would know where everyone else was, but everyone would know where they were too.

Speaking of Amelia, he was concerned for her mental state at the moment. She was smart, that much had always been clear. But she never seemed to have gotten over the loss of her brother. Combined with her hesitation getting to the fighters, it did not bode well.

He shook his head to refocus on the tactical map. There were many more red dots in orbit than he expected. Over four thousand by a quick estimation. That was not the plan. He was told there should be a quarter of that. If there were truly that many ships in orbit, it would make it that much harder to get to the station unscathed.

<Get ready for the sprint of your life, Amelia,> he said over the direct link to her. She sat just a few hundred meters to his right. Her reply came through as nothing more than a grunt of recognition.

Ahead of them was the cloud cover of the upper atmosphere. They flew as fast as they could, their fighters arcing around the planet to keep a low angle. Wisps of cloud whipped past them hardly before they had a chance to recognize them. The ship rattled with the speed against the atmospheric pressure. He was buffeted in every direction. It was all he could do to hang on and keep the ship on track

Then they broke through the atmosphere and into space. All hell broke loose.

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Looking at four thousand red dots on an overlay was one thing. Looking at them as they bore down on what was supposed to be a safe station was another entirely. A rainbow of colors exploded in all directions. Plasma lashed out, melting against the hulls of ships. Some of them took the hits and shrugged them off. Others collapsed, turning into drifting slags before exploding. Neutron beams shot through the void, creating thick holes in the ships. Magnetic cannon rounds splattered against shields and exploded against the sides of the craft.

Nearest Luca and Amelia was a squadron of what appeared to be Arcadian destroyers. Their vertical launching systems let loose missiles every half second until dozens of them ignited their gel engines and sped away towards the station. They hit harmlessly against its deflectors, and the station responded in kind. In no more than a few seconds, over a hundred missiles came soaring out of the station and methodically destroyed half of the squadron. This left a field of debris directly ahead of the pair of starfighters that had to dodge and weave through the tangled mess. Amelia’s heavy breathing was audible over the CAM link. She was panicking again. That much, Luca knew for certain.

<Amelia, you need to stay calm.> If the message was not mental, he would have grit his teeth and shout. <If you lose your head now, we are going to die.>

<S-Sorry,> came the reply. She sounded uncertain. Her speed was wavering. He frowned. If she ruined everything he had been working toward over the last year…

<Stick by my side, and everything will be okay.> Luca narrowly juked away from a large beam of the superstructure from one of the ships. Amelia did the same, though slightly slower. Her wing clipped the edge, sending it off in the wrong direction for a moment before she corrected herself. He bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling at her. She was supposed to be one of the better pilots at the academy. If this was the best Reid Flight Academy had, then it was no surprise the Hyperions were able to take over so easily.

Space Station Vertyn loomed ahead of them. Comprised of large, modular cubes, it was an obviously man-made construction. Parts of it were scorched and broken from where some of the attackers’ weapons made it through it defenses. Others glowed brightly as they returned fire. Dozens of starfighters were streaming from hangar decks on various floors. One of the doors loomed directly ahead of them.

<Okay, here is the plan.> Luca took a deep breath. This was finally the moment of their success. His success. <I am going to turn back on my transmitter and request clearance to land. In the chaos of the fight, it would not be unheard of for them to lose track of a fighter or two.>

Before he had a chance to turn it on, Amelia’s voice cut through.

<I’m sorry.> Her voice was broken. No longer was her speed wavering. Now, it was flat out dropping. She was decelerating. Luca felt rage surging within him unlike any that he had felt before. They were so close, and she was bailing. <I shouldn’t have come. I can’t do this.>

<Amelia!> He shouted her name through the link. He should have known. Nergal warned him she might not be able to handle it. But he had not expected her to get this far, to get just a few minutes away from the station and on the verge of success, then back out. <Imagine what Ethan would say. His little sister got this far then chickened out. How would he feel if he knew you did not care about him enough to do this?>

<Don’t,> she choked out. Luca could tell she was crying. <Don’t you dare use my love for him against me. I would do anything to see my brother just one more time. But I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s too much.>

Before Luca had a chance to reply, her fighter turned around. As it completed its turn, it accelerated again, back towards the surface. Slowly, it grew smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a speck behind him.

Luca wanted to hit something. He wanted to punch every control in the starfighter. His breathing was erratic. He bit down so hard he thought his teeth might shatter. Then he forced himself to take a deep breath and ran both hands through his hair. He could feel it sit at odd angles rather than its usual neat combing. That did not matter now. Nothing mattered besides getting onto the station.

<Flight commander, this is fighter two dash seven seven six,> he said after turning on his transmitter and switching to the general flight frequency used by the hangar bays. <I am in need of rearming and repair. Requesting permission to land in Hangar Bay Guardian.>

<Fighter two dash seven seven six, we have no record of your departure. Request denied.>

The transmission cut off before Luca had a chance to reply. He growled to himself as a neutron beam aimed at one of the Hyperion frigates missed by meters and streaked past him. They had to let him land. Nergal promised they would. He said that it would be easy in the chaos of the battle.

A ball of plasma skimmed his starboard wing. Alarms went off both in his head and through the cockpit. He had not been paying enough attention to the battle around him. Taking a glance at the tactical overlay, he saw half of the Hyperion’s fleet was damaged in one way or another. A quarter of the original force was now gone. Whoever was attacking—the Druthagar was obvious, as were the Arcadians, but Nergal did not say much about the others, and there were far too many ships to be just the two forces—was beginning to surround the station. Careful strikes methodically destroyed weapons emplacements on Vertyn, slowly leaving it fangless.

On one side of the battlefield, clearly visible even through the chaos and wreckage, was the Star’s Eclipse. Luca never saw a larger ship before. It rivaled even that of Vertyn, though it spread its size over a much longer length than the station. From the distance, he could see scars from the battle on it superstructure. Large holes showed where its shields must have failed.

Luca knew he would be a sitting duck in space. If he did not get on the station, his odds of survival were not good. Therefore, it was of the utmost importance was able given clearance to land. Should they continue to refuse, he would just have to force his way through.

<Flight commander,> Luca started, but a new voice cut across the transmission before he could say more.

<All Hyperion forces,> the voice—Nergal’s voice—said, <We will give you one final chance to surrender. Otherwise…>

As Nergal finished, a brilliant flash filled the right side of his viewport. Even with the automatic dimming to protect his eyes, Luca instinctively held up his hand to block out the light. When the light faded after several seconds, his heart leapt into his throat. The Star’s Eclipse was nothing more than wreckage. Most of the several hundred ships that surrounded it—primarily its enemies but also some allies—were incinerated by the explosion.

<Nergal, this is Luca Mendel,> Luca said, attempting to reach the artificial intelligence through the direct link they previously established seven years ago, when the Hyperions first came to Stariek. If he could just get in communication with it, then he would be able to make sure they did not attack him. Then he would be safe. <I am in fighter two dash seven seven six. Please respond.>

He waited several seconds for a response. His heart hammered in his ears. Anything would be welcome. When no answer came, he repeated his message. Around him, the battle continued raging, though it could hardly be described as such. For the first time since he was twelve, he felt entirely alone.

He pushed his throttle to the max, aiming directly for one of the hangar bays. When he was within a thousand kilometers, a warning flashed for his high speed of entry. He ignored it. There was no time. With the destruction of the Star’s Eclipse, the largest carrier and one of the most powerful ships in the Hyperion Navy, he knew it was a matter of time before the invading force turned to simply mopping up the stragglers. And he was a straggler. If he could just make it into one of the hangar bays, he would be safe.

If only Nergal would just fuckingrespond to his messages. Then Luca would know the artificial intelligence knew which starfighter he was in and could tell whoever was with him to not destroy him. As it were, he had to go with his first plan, which really was the second plan after communicating with the flight commander failed. That didn’t make him feel any better about his chances though.

The doors of the nearest hangar bay loomed closer. Dozens of fighters were entering and exiting. Mostly exiting. A blue sheen indicated where the forcefield held in oxygen but otherwise allowed matter through for quick ingress and egress. It served as his one hope of salvation.

Luca’s acceleration maxed out several seconds ago. The high speed of entry warning was replaced by a collision one. Repeated hails came from the flight commander and his stooges. Luca ignored them all. If they did not want him in there, they would have to blast him out of space. Seeing how their point defense in the section was reduced to rubble, that was not going to happen.

Instead, he dodged and weaved his way through the other fighters vying for the opening. Several of them burst into flames from attacking vessels behind them. Luca could do nothing but hope one of those wasn’t going to be him.

The blue shield shimmered as he crossed the threshold. He breathed a sigh of relief for having made it. Then he recognized several things at once. First was the chaos that awaited him. The hangar bay was large, several hundred meters from side to side. Antigrav sleds with missiles and other armaments sat in disorderly rows. Fighters and bombers in various states of repair sat around the floor. Any sense of organization had evaporated in the face of the rapidly deteriorating conditions outside the station. Hundreds of individuals, pilots and engineers and mechanics alike, scurried around the room.

Second was the fact he was flying nearly two hundred kilometers per second in a very tight space. And the opposite wall was a hell of a lot closer than two hundred kilometers away.

Reacting purely on instinct, he activated the emergency deceleration and jerked the fighter to the side. The combined G-forces exerted on him completely overpowered the inertial dampeners. The corners of his vision went black. He fought to not only maintain control but to stay awake. His chest felt as if it would explode. Every breath was a battle. What little he could see through the viewport was a swirl of color. That was good; at least he had not slammed into the wall. The bad was that he couldn’t see much outside that narrow band where his eyes struggled to remain open.

The emergency deceleration deactivated after eight seconds and was replaced by regular deceleration. Its effect was immediately evident as Luca felt he could breathe normally again. He continued spiraling the ship to shave off speed, surprised he had managed to avoid crashing into any of the different objects or people in the space. However, his luck did not hold out.

His starboard wing clipped a hook hanging from the ceiling. The starfighter went into an uncontrollable spiral directly towards a group of hastily landed fighters. He tried to correct his trajectory, but nothing responded to his thoughts. An alarm blared in the cockpit warning him of a fuel leak. Another yelled at him about the proximity—again.

With nothing else to do, he pulled the emergency ejection lever under the seat. An immediate fifteen Gs of force acted on his body with only the gel-filled seat to absorb it. The last thing he saw before his vision went black was the starfighter crashing to the deck in a blaze of fire.