“Astaros Prime, this is Recon Picket 4-5-0 reporting in.” Echo Squadron’s leader and Commander of the Air Guard (CAG) called in to the battle-carrier Lance of Justice, the commanding ship in the UTFSF Exploratory Battle Fleet Astaros. The fleet was comprised of the Broadsword class Battle Cruiser Kingblade, four Saber missile frigates Centurion, Huntress, Whirlwind, and Radiance, the Apothecarion class medical ship Breath of Jorah, and the flagship, Javelin class Battle Carrier Lance of Justice. Additionally, there was the presence of the Anlace class stealth reconnaissance vessel Night Talon whose official existence was unknown to all but the commanding officers of each ship—and now too, to the Commander of the Air Guard.

     

     “We read you 4-5-0. What’s your status Jos?” Lieutenant Ricard Zhensi, the Coms Officer aboard Lance of Justice replied. Zhensi was a straight-edged man and soft spoken, but was dedicated to his duty and a knowledgeable officer.

     

     “Affirmative Astaros,” Commander Josaya ‘Jos’ Pinoza continued, shaking thoughts of the hidden stealth ship from her focus, “We’re finishing up our sweep. So far, no contact in sector 10.”

     

     “Confirmed. Your orders are to return to Command. Your relief has just been dispatched.” Zhensi replied.

 

     “Roger that Astaros, returning to base.” Jos confirmed.

 

     She turned her attention to her Wing of XTC “Phantoms” who were currently tasked with scouting ahead of Exploratory Battle Fleet Astaros for potential signs of life—or potential threats as the case now seemed—given the loss of two of the fleet’s advanced unmanned probes that served as outriders.

 

     Jos cut all thrust to her Phantom’s engines and drifted for a moment before firing retro boosters to turn it around 180 degrees, facing back toward the fleet. Her Phantom rocked gently as she turned it and looked back against the star speckled black backdrop of space to try and locate the fleet with her naked eye. Failing to do so, she addressed her Phantom’s instruments and began to plot a course back to Astaros.

 

     Her Mark 1 Extra-Terrestrial Craft (XTC-1) Phantom was the UTF’s first take on a single-manned space-craft. A diamond shaped craft designed to offer support and recon for the larger ships, it also boasted significant maneuverability and firepower to engage in ship to ship combat. They primarily served as satellite vessels that flew on rotating flights to provide a constant source of support in any event of a surprise attack while the fleet was in normal space.

 

     The Phantom’s overall flat, pentagonal shape supported by sixteen directional retro boosters, made it a highly maneuverable and capable craft. Its slanted stabilizers in its rear often had many pilots question why it wasn’t named after a big cat of some sort. As standard armaments the Phantom sported two wing mounted pulse lasers that fired superheated photon blasts, as well as two hull-mounted micromissile launchers equipped with an internal feeding mechanism contributing to its mostly flat and stealth like surface.

 

     The XTC-1 also touted the ability to equip additional weapons and instruments which could vary based on the mission; though many pilots took to customizing and upgrading their crafts however best they could, taking into account their individual Wing or Squadron needs, and their personal connections with the refitting and ordinance crews.

 

     Jos’ Echo Squadron was currently serving as reconnaissance and thus was restricted to standard layouts with some supplemental sensory equipment. Jos currently flew the forward-most recon picket with her Wing, Beryl Tigers as her first self-assigned task as CAG. She’d wanted to take the responsibility and show her comrades and subordinates that she was willing to do anything she’d command them to do, despite having just been promoted.

 

     “Fall in and call in Beryl Tigers.” She firmly ordered as she engaged her primary thrusters and started back toward the fleet.

 

     “Speedy reporting in.” Came the first reply. Lieutenant Commander Joshan ‘Speedy’ Alemende was the fastest of the squad of five whose alacrity was only ever matched by his precision.

 

     “Niner reporting in.” Lieutenant Ayla ‘Niner’ Silvan responded. She was a capable and fast flyer and a reliable and steadfast friend to Jos.

 

     “This is Sev.” Lieutenant Commander Flosevan ‘Sev’ Plipaldo replied in his thick Eastern Eurkasyian accent. He was always concise with his words as he preferred to have his skill do all his talking.

 

     “Yeah, I’m here.” Lieutenant Commander Kaivas ‘Fastball’ Kuivon casually replied. He was as sagacious as he was suave but never let regulations dictate his actions, which caused many to doubt his appointment to the Beryl Tigers, until they saw him fly of course.

 

     “All units accounted for.” Jos concluded.

 

     She was supremely proud of her Wing and firmly believed they were the best the UTFSF had to offer. They’d all excelled in their separate squadrons back on Terra, but after months of training in zero gee and countless space ops to prepare for this moment they’d proven that they were among the best of the best for this new cosmic level of flight.

 

     “We’re coming home.”

 

     “Wait Jos! I’m picking up a faint radiation reading, approaching from vector 2, 5, 1.” Niner called in. Niner’s Phantom was one of two in Jos’ squad of five with advanced electronic systems; most notably advanced sensor, detection, and projection systems, as well as electronic countermeasures.

​

     “Sev, can you confirm that?” Jos asked Sev, the pilot of the other modified Phantom.

 

     “Yes I see it too.” Sev confirmed in his stoic accent.

 

     Niner keyed a few controls and logged the radiation spike as a nav marker on everyone’s Head-up-Display.

 

     “You read that Astaros Prime?” Jos relayed the message on the open tac-com.

 

     “Confirmed. Wait one.”

 

     “It’s still on approach, and growing.” Niner persisted.

 

     "Astaros? Your orders?" Jos demanded, her anxiety beginning to build alongside her excitement.

 

     “New orders Tigers: track, identify, and attempt contact.” The voice of CO and Fleet Commander, Admiral Li Kyphese was booming, even over the tight-beam-coms.

 

     Hearing his voice made Jos see the man in her mind’s eye. Admiral Kyphese was a tall man, lean yet authoritative. He more often than not, wore a look of deep consternation on his stern face; as though he were constantly carrying out scenarios in his head, methodically checking move and potential countermove, action and reaction. He was no doubt wearing that look on his face now.

 

     “Roger that.” Jos replied. “You heard ‘em Tigers, let’s check it out.”

 

     “I knew you were gonna’ say that.” Fastball jested, “All y’all can eat my thrust.” He said as he maneuvered toward the radiation spike and gunned the throttle.

 

     “They’re gonna’ be too full from choking down mine!” Speedy countered, matching Fastball’s acceleration and   enthusiasm.

 

     “Can it you two!” Jos commanded, “This is too serious for your stupid games.”

 

     The two readily—and only slightly grudgingly—obeyed their commander and refrained from charging off, as much as their comparative drives spurred them on. Despite their egotistical mindsets, she knew Speedy and Fastball were loyal and dutiful and cut back their thrust to match the rest of the Wing’s, returning to their inverted “V” formation and pursuing the potential threat with caution rather than charisma.

 

     “Wait, check it out…” Niner interjected, “The signal is changing course. It’s deflecting. It’s… turning back?”

 

     “Why did it do that?” Sev asked. “Nothing just changes course like that in space unless it has some kind of propulsion, and—“

 

     “And propulsion could indicate intelligence.” Jos concluded, “Astaros, contact has altered course. Please advise.”

 

     “You’re not far from subsector 10-51a. We lost the first probe in that vicinity,” Lieutenant Commander Zhensi replied, “your orders stand: track, identify, and attempt to establish contact.” 

 

     “This don’t feel right.” Fastball mused.

 

     “You think it’s a trap?” Niner asked no one in particular.

 

     "Sure feels like it." Speedy answered.

 

     "Astaros?" Jos questioned, a feeling of unease creeping into her voice, despite her typical air of confidence.

 

     “Hold fast Echo 4-5-0. We’re reinforcing your squad.” The Admiral interjected, “I’m deploying the remaining five wings of Echo Squadron alongside Saber Missile Frigate Centurion. They’ll be among you shortly. Upon their arrival you’ll resume your post as CAG; keep those Echo Wings in check. Maintain vigilance Echo, you’re deep in uncharted and potentially hostile territory.”

 

     “Confirmed Astaros.” Jos concluded, wondering what her own Wing should do given the recent development.

The Admiral wouldn’t just send in one of the Frigates and the entirety of Echo Squadron if he wasn’t expecting trouble… What are we getting ourselves into?

 

 

***

 

 

Admiral Kyphese stood pensively on the bridge of Lance of Justice and thumbed his chin in thought. He had full confidence in Commander Pinoza and her Beryl Tigers, but the fact that his fleet was chartering unknown territories weighed heavily on his mind.

​

     "Helmsmen, bring us around to the far side of that giant’s closest moon." The Admiral spoke as he deliberated EBF Astaros' next move.

 

     They’d completed their initial jump through the Galaxia and had arrived in system close to a red gas giant where they’d established a holding orbit while surveying for near 96 hours with probes and the Phantom Wings from the different squadrons. Since their arrival they’d oriented themselves toward the sun in system—a yellow sun much like that of Terra’s—and began scanning the surrounding area. They’d immediately discovered the red gas giant, at least six of its surrounding moons, and had completed long range scans that revealed two other planets on similar orbital planes in the system—one further in system, the other out.

 

     Given the habitable range of planetary life, the fleet Navigating Corps elected to investigate the planet closer to the sun and after the fourth day the Admiral decided to leave the giant; leaving the rest of the surveying to an automated probe dispatching Sat-Post and continuing with the fleet further in system toward the other planet. Though given their current situation, the Admiral wondered if it would have been better to have continued with their surveying until additional UTF resources arrived.

 

     Kyphese was a sagacious and careful man, which somehow seemed counterproductive to his mandate as a Terran explorer: Discover and explore our surroundings; take a stake for the Terran dominion, and spread the greatness of all Terrans; that was his mandate.

 

     Now more than ever though he questioned that mandate and the authority of his controllers.

 

     Chief Defense Minister Luca de Gulliss and the ever-ubiquitous Supreme Chancellor Pelantius had ordered him and his exploratory battle fleet out on their current deployment—and of course the lurking presence of Chief Magistrate Dekkun Pikus was pressing on his mind—but ultimately the Admiral questioned his current orders given their dubious motive. Clearly Terran resources had been lost here, but at what cost did the UTF want to know, was it worth the lives of Echo squadron? Was it worth the entire crew of the frigate Centurion?

 

     Unfortunately, the Admiral knew how much the UTF would pay—they would sacrifice the entirety of this fleet to find out what was out there, without second thought. His fleet and crews weren't heroic explorers, they were merely pawns expanding the king’s territory and they were expendable. But it was their duty, and regardless of growing apprehension, Admiral Kyphese would carry out his orders. 

 

     "Astaros Prime, this is Centurion." The acting CO of the Saber Missile Frigate, Commander Kellan Sinjay reported over the open tactical communications channel, "We've completed the rendezvous with Echo 4-5-0, but we've lost the original foreign radiation signal. It's exceeded our scanners' range on a trajectory heading closer to this system's center of gravity. Our long range scanners have detected similar stationary radiation sources closer to one of the inner planet’s moons and we've dispatched Echo Wing 'Snapping Mantis' as a vanguard team to investigate."

 

     "Confirmed." Lance of Justice Coms Officer Lieutenant Commander Zhensi replied.

 

     "Pursue the new signals and keep us posted." Admiral Kyphese ordered, “And Sinjay, keep your guard up.” He added knowing that the newly appointed commander would need the confidence boost.

Prove that you are the right man for the job, the Admiral thought.

 

     His appointment of Sinjay to command Centurion wasn’t altogether unprecedented, he was an excellent officer and Squadron CAG and Kyphese knew that his tactical awareness and battle experience would be invaluable to Centurion given its situation. Still it was a bit of a gamble and Kyphese had to trust that his instincts were right in this unfamiliar environment.

 

     "Aye-aye Astaros. Centurion out." Commander Sinjay replied.

 

 

***

 

 

Aboard Centurion Commander Sinjay turned to his first officer and issued pursuit orders which the officer then relayed to the 5 remaining Fighter Wings that were posted in formation surrounding the missile frigate.

Echo Squadron had thirty Phantoms total; broken into six “Wings” each comprised of five Phantoms, all of which were ultimately commanded by the CAG; the recently promoted Commander Jos Pinoza. Each Squadron had its own commander who reported to the CAG but ultimately reported to Admiral Kyphese—though given the immense task of commanding the fleet, command over the squadrons often fell to the Admiral’s Tactical Operations Officer, Commander Etara Chevez.

 

     Commander Sinjay contemplated his current situation for a moment and wondered whether or not he would have preferred to be in Commander Chevez position. Better yet, in Commander Pinoza's position, as he formerly would have been provided Centurion's captain not suffered a brain aneurism upon exiting Galaxial space and its XO not succumbed to a rare aural condition in which his eardrums ruptured, rendering him deaf.

 

     Their trauma after the emersion into real space still haunted Sinjay, but what truly troubled him was that their two cases were not exclusive.

 

     Upon completing the initial jump from Terra, EBF Astaros had taken immediate casualties. Moments after exiting the Galaxia approximately six percent of the fleet's crews had suffered traumatically from various ailments such as migraines, hot flashes, vomiting, hallucinations, and in several worst case scenarios: psychological brain traumas and aneurisms. Most of which had resulted in moderate to severe hospitalizations and casualties aboard the fleet's Apothecarion class medical ship, The Breath of Jorah. The influx of near 1,400 crew members from various ships in the fleet had immediately crowded the ship and caused an uproar of concerns about their mission, however Admiral Kyphese settled many doubts and reservations and refocused the crews on their task at hand.

 

     Sinjay wished he’d shared the Admiral’s constitution in face of such a chaotic ordeal, one that left both of his predecessors incapacitated.  

 

     Centurion's former captain and first officer, Captain Varwyk and Commander Balios were currently aboard The Breath of Jorah, the former in a coma while the latter was being seen by an auditory specialist.

All of it left the recently promoted Commander Sinjay to presently wonder what it was that could have happened to both of his commanding officers and all those other crewmen.

 

     He turned his thoughts to wishing that the captain were here and that he weren't in his current position but rather with Echo Squadron where he felt he belonged as its former CAG—at least prior to his on-field promotion to commanding Centurion.

 

     As he was promoted to fill a new vacancy, so too was Commander Pinoza, who had become the new Echo Squadron CAG; and as such was now responsible for his former duties. However much he missed his old post, Commander Sinjay was the ranking officer aboard his new ship and as such was required to carry out this task in accordance with his newly promoted duties as CO. Thus he had been the one to order Snapping Mantis to the vanguard; electing to keep his best pilots in Centurion's escort picket.

 

     "Commander!" Came the urgent call from the Coms Officer, "Oh, sorry... Captain. I'm picking up a garbled signal. It, it sounds like it's coming from Snapping Mantis."

 

     "Patch it through." Sinjay replied, too absorbed in his own thoughts to dwell on the officer's slip-up.

 

     "What the... Did yo** *ee that?... We lo*** two more! Whe** the hell are they com*** from? Jorah’s Bane! Arghhh—"

 

     "It's... It's gone dead sir." The Coms Officer stated flatly as all attention on the slightly cramped bridge of Centurion was turned to Commander Sinjay. "Your orders sir?" He quivered as he asked.

 

     The newly appointed captain sat stoically for a moment, contemplating their possible actions. Suddenly, without warrant, a surge of confidence raced through his body, despite his previous reservations. Almost as if his mind was made up for him by some strange presence he gave his orders, suddenly emitting a haughtiness he previously hadn't known.

 

     He gave the command without pause, "Relay that to command and carry on. All wings, all ahead full."

 

​

***

​

 

Admiral Kyphese sat in his command chair with a look beyond concerned, but he wasn't at all surprised when he learned of the garbled transmission from Snapping Mantis. He was still inwardly reeling from Astaros' initial losses—among those Centurion's captain and XO—and doubt now entered his mind over appointing Sinjay to command Centurion and dispatching him to investigate. To add further uncertainty he now faced the first presumable real casualties of war in the form of the disappearance of the Snapping Mantis wing of Echo squadron.

 

     "We've lost all contact with Mantis?" He confirmed with his Tactical Operations Officer.

 

     "Yes sir. Transmissions and vitals on all 5 Phantoms." Commander Chevez replied, her voice subdued with loss.

Etara Chevez had been one of Kyphese’ hand-selected bridge officers as he’d known about her excellent record back on Terra aboard the Naval Guard Regent Carrier Titanus. He respected her professionalism and hoped that her alacrity and experience wouldn’t let her down given their deteriorating situation.

 

     "And Centurion?" The Admiral persisted.

 

     "Last we heard they were pursuing Snapping Mantis, at full speed."

 

     "What the hell is he doing? Sinjay wouldn’t just charge in blindly like that. He’s acting far more recklessly than I'd anticipated. Patch me through."

 

     "No-can-do Admiral.” Lieutenant Zhensi replied, “There's some kind of electrical interference and our long range com systems can't get a fixed contact. There’s too much static."

 

     "Jorah’s Bane!" Admiral Kyphese cursed. "How long until we can reestablish contact?"

 

     "Unknown sir.” He continued. “If we had line of sight we could send a tight-beam transmission, but that radiation spike is disorienting just about all of our scopes. At this point it'd probably be easier to fly to them."

 

     "Negative. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with before we go headlong into anything. We'll just have to wait for their report." Admiral Kyphese sighed and fixed his view on the nothingness of space.

 

​

***

​

 

"Captain Sinjay," Centurion's Ops Officer Lieutenant Lars Lincovic began, "we're coming up on one of the radiated foreign objects. Approximately 12000 kilometers away. I'm not detecting any power readings, but radiation levels are dangerously high. I recommend we keep our distance. At least until we know what we’re up against."

 

     "Your hesitance is noted. Remain on course." Commander Sinjay ordered, a smirk gradually grew on his face and a wild look entered his eye that caused the Ops Officer to feel uneased. Order Echo wing ‘Screaming Raptor’ to secure a perimeter around the object. One thousand kilometers."

 

     “Sir?"

 

     "Do it." Sinjay repeated smugly.

 

     "Sir, what about Snapping Mantis? We've lost all contact; shouldn't we be searching for their remains? And the object, surely its radiation levels are cause for concern."

 

     "Do not question my orders lieutenant!” Sinjay barked, before adding more calmly, “Obey them or I'll find a replacement Ops Officer who will."

 

     Several crewmen on the bridge stopped what they'd been doing to glance up at the new captain. There seemed to be an aura about him that exuded hostility, something was notably off about him, but attention was quickly drawn as the Sensors Officer reported in:

 

     "Multiple contacts originating from further in system, looks like a rough vector from the other planet we discovered. They’re currently at 340,000 Kilometers and approaching fast. I count at least 12—wait, make that 15—wait, 21 new contacts! They're all on an inbound vector."

 

     The crew aboard the bridge began stirring, many unsure of continuing the mission, many beginning to allow fear and paranoia into their minds given the mounting tension of the situation.

 

     Commander Sinjay felt the situation too, but in an altogether different way. His body temperature and heartbeat were steadily on the rise, sweat dripped from his pores, and unusual brainwave patterns began clouding his thoughts as events continued to transpire.

 

     "Centurion actual this is Echo 4-5-0." Commander Pinoza broke in over the ship com. "Contacts bearing down on us at high speed. What are your orders?"

 

     "Maintain the perimeter." Sinjay ordered, beads of sweat building on his forehead. He licked his lips and took in a heavy breath.  

 

     Amidst the increasing tension aboard the bridge Echo Wing Screaming Raptor had approached the strange radiated object as the foremost element of their taskforce.

 

     "Centurion?" Raptor's Wing Commander reported in, "We have contact. Wait a minute… the artifact is emitting some kind of—”

 

     Suddenly in the vacuum of space, a flash of light erupted in front of Screaming Raptor’s wing commander as the artifact emitted a blaze of purple-white lightning that pierced the four spacecraft that flew in formation to either of his sides before instantly piercing his own and ending his existence in a spectacularly colorful yet eerily silent explosion of purple lightning and orange flame.

 

     "Commander, we've lost all vital signs for Screaming Raptor!" The Ops Officer reported, unaware of the blood beginning to run down the side of Sinjay’s mouth, nor the dilation of his pupils to twice their original size.

 

     "Contacts imminent!" The Sensors Officer said just as Sinjay unbuckled the straps from his command chair.

 

     "Attack!" Commander Sinjay blurted suddenly, as he leapt from the command chair and shook his fists in a flurrying rush. “Attack attack attack attack! Kill them! Kill them all! KILL EVERYTHING!"

 

     The Ops Officer turned his head just in time to see the commander lunge for him with his hands drawn to bear. In a flash they were around his throat and beginning to choke the life out of him.

 

     "Commander!" The Coms Officer shouted, unbuckling his straps and rising from his chair, "Subdue him!" He ordered to the two guardsmen on the Bridge.

 

     The bridge guards leapt forward and attempted to restrain the commander but were stopped in their tracks as he caught the first one and threw her into the second, sending them both sprawling to the ground before returning to the Ops Officer. Lieutenant Lincovic had been able to unstrap himself from his chair and dropped to the ground. Sinjay was on him in a flash and grabbed his neck, squeezing as tight as he could for several seconds as Lincovic’s face turned pink, then red, then blue, just before Sinjay tilted it in a jerking fashion and felt a satisfying crack.

 

     The remaining crew aboard the bridge suddenly hurried to unstrap themselves and escape the maddened Sinjay.

 

     "Bring him down!" The Coms Officer said before his commander lunged toward him with renewed vigor.

​

     The first of the bridge guards got to her feet and produced a small stun gun and shot the commander directly in his back. The small electrical projectiles the weapon fired entered Sinjay’s back and emitted 2000 volts of electricity directly into his nervous system. The commander shrieked in delight when he grabbed the dart-like projectiles embedded in him and flung them back toward the firing officer. They found their mark right in her face and neck and the officer fell to a heap clutching her face in agony as her body felt the continued effects of the electric charge.

 

     The second bridge guard then tried to remove his firearm but was stopped as the commander grabbed his arms, quickly twisted to his side and broke them over his knee. Sinjay then removed the weapon from its holster and pressed it to the man's throat before pulling the trigger and watching the guardsmen twitch, cringe, and fall to the ground in a heaping bloody spasm.

 

     Delusional and deranged, Sinjay turned to the Coms Officer in a murderous fashion with a diabolical look in his eyes. By this time the rest of the crew aboard the bridge had taken cover or fled and the few remaining aboard watched as the commander bent down and picked up the flinching Coms Officer by his throat. Smilingly, Sinjay looked into the officer's eyes and just as a twinkle of pure madness entered his own gaze, he leveled the guardsman’s firearm at the officer’s chest and pulled the trigger until it rang empty before erupting in mad laughter.

 

     He tossed the firearm and the Coms Officer's lifeless body to his side. He smeared a bloodied hand across his face before turning toward the open entrance to the bridge looking down the corridor and shouting with pure madness, "You're all next! Hahahaha! The Darkness is darkest in this place." His voice became a guttural sound of torment and agony.

 

     His eyes then glazed over in blackness before he concluded, "ZÏZ will claim us all."

 

 

***

​

 

Outside Centurion the remaining four wings of Echo squadron were fighting for their lives against unknown targets.

"All Wings, evasive maneuvers, try to keep your shapes! Tigers you guys still with me?" Commander Pinoza called out to her own Wing.

 

     "We're here!" Speedy called back.

 

     "Jos," Niner began, "Centurion just went dark."

 

     "What the hell is goin' on?" Fastball shouted, dodging the purple-white laser fire of their unknown assailants. Their silhouettes were like black knives against the blackness of space. 

 

     "Did you see that?" Sev asked incredulously, "that looked like a demon of hell itself!"

 

     “No time for chatter. Echo Wings, fall in!” She shouted to the remainder of Echo Squadron’s beleaguered pilots.

 

     There were only six others now. Six. Four Phantoms remained of ‘Roaring Banshee’ and two remained of ‘Cienfuego’—which after her own squad of Beryl Tigers made their total eleven out of their initial thirty. Three whole Wings under her brief tenure as Echo Squadron CAG had been decimated; Snapping Mantis came first just as they’d received their orders and rendezvoused with Centurion, Screaming Raptor shortly after engaging the radiated object, and most recently all of ‘Laughing Jackal’ and members of Cienfuego and Roaring Banshee in the defense of Centurion. 

 

     Their losses would weigh heavy on her conscience.

 

     But not now.

 

     Their attacker’s ships were dark and sleek and thus hard to follow against the midnight black backdrop of space, but from what Jos and her squadron could see, their attackers seemed spiked and knifelike. All wasn’t totally lost, as they could at least track their enemies’ movements once they’d been identified and marked by the sensory equipment on the support Phantoms, and that was keeping them alive, for the moment.

 

     “They’re too tough to target!” Roaring Banshee ‘Siren’ called out.

 

     "All units engage at will! Pair up and cover your wingman! Niner, I want you to get your ship out of here and broadcast an emergency signal to the fleet! Take those Cienfuego stragglers too, we're spent here." Jos continued,

"Speedy, Sev, you'll go as additional cover."

 

     Niner and Sev's ships were both outfitted as specialty XTC-1B’s and had improved communications equipment along with advanced sensory and stealth equipment. Other wings had the XTC-1B or Phantom-b as it was called, but as it stood, none had survived other than Niner’s, Sev’s, and Cienfuego’s only Phantom-b. They were slightly bulkier and somewhat less maneuverable and thus made easier targets—though Niner and Sev were top pilots and Sev’s mechanical skills proved invaluable as he’d made some customizations to their two crafts that didn’t diminish their maneuverability as greatly as normal.

 

     "You kiddin’ me? You want me to go?" Speedy exclaimed, "I'm the best dogfighter you got! You need me here."

 

     "You are the best I got, which is why I need you covering our only hope of reporting this!" Jos replied, suddenly dodging attacking laser fire before engaging another attacker with two missiles. One of her missiles found a target in the hull of an attacking fighter, piercing its frail knife-shape design and detonating within, silently breaking it into thousands of tiny particles in the vacuum of space.

 

     "The fleet is out of range and their long range tight beam coms are the best chance we have of reaching them! Now go!"

     

     "Roger that!" Sev affirmed the order.

 

     "Copy that." Cienfuego’s XTC-1B pilot ‘Foxtail’ reported, joining up with Sev and Niner, her wingman ‘Hurricane’ following.

 

     “Copy that.” Speedy said reluctantly following as Niner and Sev peeled off from formation. "Don't go gettin' yourself killed Fastball."

 

     "Don't worry, you can catch up to me later." Fastball said, ever intent on continuing their rivalry.

 

     As Niner, Sev, Speedy, Foxtail, and Hurricane peeled off, Jos and Fastball tucked into a tight wingman formation and reengaged the attacking fighters as Jos took point, "Fastball, Roaring Banshees, form up." Jos encouraged, "Centurion's gone dark, and I want to see why."

 

     "Right with you Jos." Fastball confirmed.

 

     “On your six,” Roaring Banshee ‘Harlot’ confirmed, leading her remaining fighters into formation behind Jos.

 

     “Come on Banshees, I want to hear your roar!” She encouraged the remaining pilots in Roaring Banshee as they engaged their assailants around Centurion.

 

​

***

​

 

"Admiral, we haven't heard from Echo Squadron or Centurion in approximately 3 hours, what are your orders?" Lieutenant Commander Zhensi asked, sweat steadily beading on his forehead.

 

     "Steady as she goes lieutenant. They know to get a message out at four hours if we haven’t heard before then. We're not diving into anything until we know what we're getting into." Admiral Kyphese repeated.

 

     He'd been beyond tense for the last 3 standard hours. He wasn't a pessimistic man, and never liked to believe in bad hoodoo, but he now felt a chill crawl up his spine and not for the first time toyed with the idea of plotting return coordinates and jumping back to Terra before his sense of duty overruled the notion.

 

     "Admiral!" Lance of Justice’s Sensors Officer Rayon Rodrigon interjected, "I’ve registered five contacts approaching our position. Range 80000 kilometers, approach vector -5, 9, -4. They're... They're ours! Friend-or-Foe tags indicate Phantoms, they're part of Echo!" He said barely hiding his incredulity.

 

     "Patch us through." The Admiral barked to Zhensi.

 

     “Admiral, it seems we’ve found ourselves in quite a bit of a predicament.” A nasally voice called out from the entry bulkhead to the bridge accompanied by the sound of mechanical servos. “I should like to know why I was not immediately made aware of this situation.”

 

     Heavy metallic footsteps clanged across the bridge and stopped just before the Admiral.

 

     There stood the form of Chief Magistrate Dekkun Pikus, though not the man; but rather his advisory robot. The robotic doppelganger served as a drone for the Chief Magistrate while he was safely aboard Night Talon—the fleet’s top secret stealth vessel—and allowed him to venture between vessels without leaving the secret safety of Night Talon. The drone’s robotic body was roughly human in shape, though its movements were clearly limited in range and speed given its mechanical creation. Its face and auditory systems were by far its most innovative features, as above the robotics of its operating system and its metallic-skeleton structure, its face was covered with a layer of microscopic nanomachines that molded to the user’s exact facial features; furthermore, the speakers and microphone captured the full definition of sound and replicated the Magistrate’s voice and face perfectly—to the majority of the fleet personnel’s dismay. Unbeknownst to the Magistrate, many had taken to calling his doppelganger ‘Pikusbot’ which had quickly devolved into the moniker ‘Pikusbutt.’  

 

     “Pikus, couldn’t you at least have the courtesy to come aboard my ship to reprimand me in person?” The Admiral ignored the Magistrate’s complaint and saw to his returning Phantoms first, “Echo, do you read?”

 

     “Admiral Kyphese, this is Echo 4-5-7. We are returning from Centurion recon outfit. We’ve lost contact with Centurion and the majority of Echo Squadron sir. We were attacked.” A thick Eastern Eurkasyian voice came in, clear and succinct.

 

     “Attacked?” Pikus’ voice sounded incredulous through the voice of Pikusbot, the robotic emissary. “How could that be?”

​

     “There’s someone or something there.” The Admiral replied, irritated that Pikus hadn’t the sense to infer that. “Tell me, pilot.”

 

     “Lieutenant Ayla Silvan reporting in, they came at us all at once, sir.” Niner interjected, “From everywhere. Either their jump capabilities are far more advanced than our own or they’ve got some kind of cloaking abilities. Maybe both.”

 

     Admiral Kyphese recognized the Eastern Eurkasyian accent as that of Commander Pinoza’s fourth wingman Lieutenant Plipaldo as he continued Lt. Silvan’s story, “They appeared right in front of us and took us apart with considerable speed.”

 

     “I see. Chevez, put the fleet on full alert. All crew to battle stations. All pilots to their wings. Zhensi, recall those Echo fighters for refit and refuel. They won’t like it but we’ll need them out there.” The Admiral ordered with a stern countenance, “Rodrigon, log all ships and fighters on our tactical display; prepare to track incoming targets.”

 

     “Yes sir.” Lieutenant Rodrigon began tapping various controls at the 3-D map display centered on the bridge as Zhensi and Chevez set to completing their tasks.

 

     “Admirial,” Pikusbot began in the nasally voice that Kyphese was already sick of hearing, “you must contact Terra immediately.”

 

     “I must prepare my crews for imminent attack. Might you be so kind as to see to that?”

“Admiral!” Lieutenant Rodrigon’s voice broke in, “Contacts detected. I’ve got scores, maybe hundreds of contacts showing up at the edge of our long range scanners!”

 

     “Chevez, deploy current perimeter Phantoms to intercept,” Kyphese ordered as he sat down and strapped himself into his deck chair, the rest of the bridge crew did likewise. “Have our arms teams, prime weapons and prepare for boarding parties. Zhensi, patch me through to the fleet.”

 

     Lieutenant Zhensi keyed a few controls before Kyphese continued broadcasting orders to the entire fleet.

“All ships, we are now on high alert. We’ve lost our forward scouting forces. Prepare for imminent attack. Kingblade, Huntress, Whirlwind to the front: Trident formation. Breath of Jorah pull into Lance of Justice’s wake; Radiance, you have the rear guard. I want all Phantom Wings to prepare for immediate launch; combat squadrons spread out in cross-fan formation and keep enemy fighters off our flanks; all of them. I don’t want anything penetrating our defenses.”

 

     All around the fleet, boots clattered on ship decks, movement and preparation echoed within holds, engines roared to life, missile tubes were primed and exposed, massive building-sized railguns charged up as ammunition lines were cleared and loaded, the fleet’s GDC (Gunner Defense Corps) turned to their turrets, and Phantom pilots donned their flight suits and entered their Phantoms—some potentially for their last time—as flight crews readied the various squadrons. Every crewmember moved with purpose, every mind just as curious and concerned as the next as intrepid voyagers and explorers quickly became soldiers and defenders.  

 

     “Admiral, if you won’t see to it, I will contact Command with a sit-rep.” Pikusbot voiced.

 

     “Fine,” Admiral Kyphese replied with mounting apprehension, “Report our casualties as well and request immediate support. Stress initial post-jump traumas as well. We want them to be prepared for the rude arrival. Make sure they know what we’re up against.” Kyphese then contemptuously added, “And get this damn robot off my bridge. I don’t want my crew tripping over it to do their jobs! And keep that damned stealth ship of yours well enough out of harm’s way. I don’t want it interfering with my ships’ maneuvers.”

“Very well. Rest assured, we will be quite out of your way, Admiral.” Pikus’ smug voice trailed off as Pikusbot exited the bridge.

 

     The Magistrate’s smug satisfaction and enjoyment over his higher modicum of safety aboard Night Talon was palpable even through the robot’s synthetic sound system.

 

     The Admiral had grown all too weary of Pikus’ constant observation and micromanagement. Pikus’ over-the-shoulder method of work dug deep at him, as his previous commanders had a level of trust and understanding that Pikus could never achieve, despite his vast financial resources and political dealings.

A glorified accountant has no place on a voyage such as this, especially one that is now a battlefield. Be gone and let us be about our business.

 

     Exploration and capital gain had been their initial business, but survival now seemed to be the far more profitable choice.

 

     “Admiral, reports indicate that perimeter defenses have engaged with the unknown contacts.” Zhensi reported.

 

     “Confirmed.” Lieutenant Rodrigon added.

 

     Before the Admiral could provide a reply, hundreds of spots lit up along the forward viewport of Lance of Justice. Lightning sparked from nowhere and space everywhere seemed to bend and distort in dozens of purplish-black dots. Everywhere they looked, it seemed a new contact sprouted out of the nothingness. The tiny ripples gave way to hundreds of hostile ships, exacerbating the fleet’s current situation. Space seemed to ripple and rip asunder and the backdrop of black with speckled stars twinkled and distorted all the eye could see as the enemy’s ships appeared from the nothingness.

 

     “I’m reading hundreds of new contacts sir!” Rodrigon reported.

Explosions of orange, yellow, and red light began appearing as the outermost Phantoms began engaging the new enemies.

 

     “Mother of Jorah.” The Admiral gasped under his breath, before regaining his composure, “all units, fire at will!”

 

     “All units, track new targets and engage. Repeat, all units track new targets and engage!” Chevez ordered.

Space around the entire fleet seemed to settle for a moment after the initial Galaxial jumps, but the Admiral’s nerves tightened as the fleet immediately faced these newfound hostile contacts full on. Hundreds of ships of varying sizes occupied their viewports and radar screens. Spiked, malicious looking crafts the size of single-fighter-jets speckled radars and blended in the infinite view of space while larger crafts—sporting notable wheel-like devices on their aft sections—appeared, sporadically throughout their numbers. Beyond these medium sized ships were just over two dozen ships equal or greater in size to the UTF Saber Missile Frigates—of which, only three remained of the initial four in EBF Astaros. The largest enemy ship—although menacing in shape and appearance—was not however larger than the flagship Lance of Justice, and that did serve to bolster the morale of the UTF crewmen, despite their predicament.

 

     Kyphese quickly studied the 3-D radar-imaging device on the bridge to get a sense of their enemies’ positions, “They’ve cut us off from the Trident...”

 

     He saw that their newfound enemies had jumped within his own formation with extreme precision and expertise.

 

     How can this be?

 

     Hundreds of the small contacts began swarming the battlecruiser Kingblade and the frigates Huntress and Whirlwind. Laser blasts and silent explosions could now be seen through the forward viewport and the coms were immediately cluttered with chatter; pilots and crewman screamed in death throes, and shouted orders as the enemies engaged them, though the silent vacuum of space drowned out all sound.  

 

     “Sir? Additional orders?” Chevez questioned.

 

     “All ships engage railgun batteries against the mother ships and fire at will. All Phantom squadrons, consolidate positions; regroup. Squadrons Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, advance and fortify the Trident’s rear position. Foxtrot, Gamma, Helix, Ignus, engage enemy fighters to our dorsal and starboard sides respectively. Jade, Kilo, Lima, Magnus to port and keel-side. Nimbus, Omega, Prima consolidate and cover Breath of Jorah. Launch Wings Quox, Razor, Sierra, and Talon and keep them in holding positions within Lance of Justice’s immediate perimeter. All remaining Wings prep for reserve launch. Keep our phantoms launching and our guns firing. We need to—“

 

     “New contact sir!” Lieutenant Rodrigon broke in, incredulously.

 

     “What? Where?” Kyphese blurted before his eyes grew wide and his jaw slacked open.

 

     Right in front of his eyes the Admiral watched space distort, blackish-blue ripples sprouted from a seemingly innocuous point before a ship emerged from the nothingness. Its tattered form was mangled and broken. It resembled a decomposing skeleton, shedding its skin; a shadow of its former frame. Explosions had ravaged its hulls and small explosions continued to erupt along its exterior while oxygen could be seen venting from many places. One of its two lateral wing-mounted cannons had been completely destroyed, but the other remained, while the dorsal stabilizer and adjoining missile pod had been similarly obliterated. The bottom stabilizer had been broken and bent as if it had run aground. Despite the massive amount of damage, the Admiral could readily make out the beleaguered form of Centurion.

 

     “What the hell?” He said just before Commander Chevez gave voice to the Admiral’s initial thoughts as Centurion entered ‘normal’ space. “Sir, its coming right for us!”

 

     Admiral Kyphese sat paralyzed in his harness, staring in shocked disbelief.

What fresh hell is this? How is this devilry possible? How could we have prepared for any of this… this chaos? This madness?

 

     His constitution wavered as he hesitated with what to do.

 

     Change course! Now you fool!

 

     “Divert course! Evasive action!” He finally shouted, “All available units, target Centurion!”

 

     “Detecting a weapons charge from Centurion sir!” Chevez reported.

 

     As she spoke, the Admiral saw what she had detected. The rail-gun housing on Centurion’s remaining starboard stabilizer had remained undamaged despite the ship’s dilapidated condition, and the Admiral could see it begin to emit light at its base, as the guns were prone to do just before firing.

 

     “No... Jorah help us,” the Admiral said just before Centurion fired.

 

     The railgun fired the Magnetized Explosive Round or MER directly at the flagship and the shot sped through space toward the enormous battle carrier, still lumbering in vain to get out of its way. It impacted directly with the hull, doing precisely what it was designed to do.

 

     Upon piercing the armor of the target vessel the MER was designed to enter, detonate, and inflict maximum damage from within the target. Countless tests had shown that the way the charge was packed and the time on the fuse could make all the difference to the weapons efficacy, as sometimes the swift speed of the projectile meant that it would detonate anywhere before, during, or after impact—depending on the target’s composition.

 

     This time the technology worked perfectly, to the disdain of all aboard Lance of Justice.

 

     The hull rang out with the immediate impact, and moments later explosions could be heard throughout the massive battle carrier. The initial explosion prompted secondary explosions which surged up and down Lance of Justice. Continued explosions erupted from deep within the ship, rippling outward and bursting it at the seams.

Oxygen vented, debris exploded outward, and flames flashed and faded with the escaping air as countless bodies were sucked into the frigid lifeless vacuum of space. The ship listed forward and began to split asunder, it’s thrusters now having varied impact on its ruined husk. Admiral Kyphese reeled in dismay as his ship began to crack beneath him.

 

     “Hull integrity critical!” Chevez shouted.

 

     Their bodies began to float out of their chairs ever so slightly for an instant as the thrust gravity aboard the ship gave out before the pull of their harnesses drew them back. The front of Lance of Justice tilted downward as its midsection cracked and split, leaving the back end of the ship to break off and list backward from the force of the explosions.

 

     “Admiral, we’re breaking up!” Chevez yelled as claxons sounded and sirens flared as Lance of Justice split in half and began to drift apart.

 

     “We’ve lost coms sir!” Zhensi reported.

Struggling against the loss of gravity, Admiral Kyphese could only reel in disbelief as his ship and his fleet disintegrated around him.

 

     “Centurion is still on an inbound trajectory.” Rodrigon continued.

 

     “All units… engage… Centurion!” The Admiral struggled to say, trying to regain any semblance of control.   

Without warning, a hissing screech crept up and throughout Lance of Justice, with it came a blackness alien to all aboard. “SSSSSenturion! I will be the death of you all! Ahahahahaha! Kill all Terrans! Kill kill kill!” a voice reported over the coms, amplified and horrible.

 

     “Was that… Sinjay?” Admiral Kyphese asked incredulously.

 

     “No admiral!” The voice of the corrupted Sinjay replied. “It is your doom!”

 

     Centurion suddenly and jarringly accelerated toward Lance of Justice with a powerful boost from its engines—clearly a sudden overload of its reactor, the Admiral presumed.

 

     A rash move that ultimately cripples the user, though suicidal in this sense. Sinjay means to end himself too.

 

     The ship loomed ever closer and began to rapidly expand in their viewport, all the while rapidly approaching catastrophe.

 

     “Sir, shouldn’t we abandon ship?” Zhensi asked, fear dominating his voice.

     “There’s no time…” The Admiral replied in resignation.

 

​

***

​

 

Centurion was mere seconds away from collision and sirens and claxons blared aboard it and its target. Commander Sinjay sat alone on the bridge wailing a hysterical laugh of menace and corruption. He imagined the look of terror that must be accompanying the Admiral right now, as his mind was ultimately consumed by the horror and malcontent of a darker presence.

 

     “I am the harbinger of the destroyer ZÏZ! Now embrace oblivion!”

 

     Saber missile frigate Centurion impacted directly with the fore-half of Lance of Justice. The flash of light and subsequent shockwave could be seen and felt many miles off in space by the few remaining elements of Exploratory Battle Fleet Astaros.