Interlude Battle of Xeros (Patreon)

April 4th, 064 SDE:

The figure leaned over his console, studying the new ship entering the system. It was different from all known hull configurations, entirely alien. He’d never seen a ship so lacking in features, it had no emblems, no markings of any kind, its surface entirely smooth and featureless. The hull was merely painted a dull utilitarian grey. It was so featureless in fact that he could discern no weapons, no engines, or well, anything. Just a plain grey sphere with an indented trench dividing her upper and lower hemispheres, floating in the depths of space. If it hadn’t arrived via some kind of wormhole, he might have assumed it to be some strange art piece or something. Yet it was clearly a ship of some kind, just he had no idea whose.

He’d much rather a Rykoni ship arrive, at least then he’d know what he was dealing with, and what to do about it. They were a common thorn for young colonies, outposts and trade routes. The damn bastards were well known for their tendency to raid any target that looked even half juicy. 

That’s why his cruiser was here, the largest ship defending the newly founded colony of Xeros. A promising world on the frontier with sweeping forests, rich oceans, and fertile grasslands that might one day become a major commercial center or a major agricultural exporter. Today however it was home to scattered settlements and hardy young folk seeking new lives.

Turning from the alien sphere on the monitor, he inquired, “Anything?”

“No response to our signals sir.”

“Energize deflector screens. Tactical?”

“Hard to say, the alien ship doesn’t conform to known technologies. No discernible method of propulsion but beyond that I can say little, our sensors can’t penetrate the hull. It’s made of some kind of neutronium-laced alloy I’ve never seen before.”

“Neutronium!?”

The officer nodded and brought up a display, “They’ve processed it into a thin lattice structure, very unusual. Hard to say what kind of protection this might offer.”

He didn’t know what to think, the Union had experimented with neutronium before. In its raw state, it was far too dense and heavy for any practical application, but when processed it produced an expensive yet potent silver-gold colored metal. That was still rather dense, but it was much lighter than raw neutronium. Most important was its incredible resilience and structural properties. In theory, a ship made of pure neutronium alloy, not to be confused with raw neutronium, would be virtually indestructible. Using it in ship construction, however, wasn’t something they could do. The material was too difficult to produce in any meaningful quantities. Yet here was a ship that contained that very metal laced throughout its outer hull. Worse, she wasn’t small, they’d previously noted that she had a diameter of forty eight hundred meters. Meaning she dwarfed his modest ship, which was only fifteen hundred meters long and half that wide.

They were just a standard patrol cruiser, Valshor Class. Armed with two maser beam arrays, six triple heavy maser turrets, thirty-two dual light maser cannon turrets, and two hundred and forty distortion missile silos, paired with another sixty ion missile silos. They could reload each silo in six seconds and carried enough warheads to fire six volleys. They also carried sixteen heavy torpedo launchers, which could carry either distortion torpedoes or ion torpedoes. Finally, he had two hangars that gave him a total of twenty fighter squadrons.

He was currently carrying sixteen squadrons of Vorpal interceptor fighters, and four squadrons of Kralpa Bombers. The former was a light fighter frame noted for being agile, outfitted with a deflector shield and light armor. She carried four maser bolter cannons and was armed with short-range air-to-air distortion missiles. Meanwhile the Kralpa was heavily armored, and equipped with a fairly powerful deflector for a fighter. Her weapons included a pair of heavy bolter cannons and antimatter torpedoes.

Fighters were indispensable for modern warfare, there was a time when they were considered obsolete. Back then the advent of sustained beam weapons had led to highly accurate long range gunnery that could pick off fighters before they could get close enough to do their damage. The development of the deflector shield changed all that. Deflectors work by attempting to redirect incoming fire, the stronger the shield the greater the degree of deflection. These shields were also more effective during long range gun duels. The result of high powered deflectors becoming commonplace was that engagement ranges shrank dramatically, as deflectors were less effective at close range. That factor allowed fighters to return to the stage.

Turning he said, “Alert the fleet about this. Tell them to send reinforce...”

“Fighter launch! Alien hostile is launching fighters!”

He turned back to the screen and saw dozens of grey spheres being disgorged by the larger one. Each one was tiny, only a few scant meters across, six to be precise. Each one as featureless as the mothership, in fact they had even fewer features. Their smooth exterior didn’t even have a trench to break it up.

“We are being signaled!”

“Let’s hear it.”

The speakers crackled, “Your chaotic existence has come to an end, we are the Cylovans and we are here to bring Order to Chaos. Lower your shields or be destroyed.”

He didn’t hesitate for his next orders, “Scramble all fighters! Tell the fleet that we have been engaged. All hands to battlestations!”

Alarms rang, the hangers opened as pilots launched into the void. Forming up in defensive positions to protect the cruiser. He settled at the command station, his eyes on the distances. The alien vessel was well outside standard engagement ranges. They’d be entering weapons range soon however, and the alien ship didn’t appear to have raised her shields. That would let him score some early hits. “Arm all tubes, stand by to fire missiles on my command.”

“Missiles ready!”

He glanced at the plot, watching for when the Cylovans crossed an invisible line. Time seemed to stretch on from a second into an eternity. Until finally they crossed the line, he shouted, “Fire!!”

The ship hummed as a loud cascading roar reverberated through the hull, the missiles arced as they fired out of the silos and joined into a large volley heading right for the alien ship. “Lock beam cannons on those fighters and fire at will!”

The beam arrays lit up, sending high-intensity maser streams into the void. His view screen highlighted them by painting them indigo, letting him tell which ship was being hit and where. 

Several alien fighters exploded on impact with the beams, but the next barrage proved less effective as they were suddenly protected by some kind of energy field, but it wasn’t a deflector shield. It was something else. He gave the order to keep firing.

Moments later the alien fighters entered range of his own and the two fighter fleets clashed. Missiles and maser bolts slammed into shielded spheres who returned fire with steady green beams that sliced through hulls with deadly accuracy. It only took a moment to realize his own squadrons were being slaughtered.

Tactical interjected, “Missile impact in three... two... one.. Impact!”

He watched the distortion warheads slam into the Cylovan warship. Space itself seemed to distort as the powerful chaotic energies of the special warheads were unleashed. Yet rather than vaporize large chunks of the alien ship, several exploded against a shield. Some pierced that, but left only pockmarks on the hull.

Chatter from his remaining fighters was coming in, asking to withdraw. “Permission granted!” he turned to the helm, “New course! Three one six, mark two eight, ahead flank. All batteries reload, and where are our damn reinforcements?”

“En route! ETA, two minutes.”

He glanced at the plot, watching several more fighters get torn to shreds as they tried to withdraw, but the alien ships proved faster. They couldn’t make distance. On screen, a sphere came up behind a Vorpal fighter, her beam cannon lanced out and cut through the wing of the Vorpal before slicing into the main hull across the main engine. The ship exploded a second later. A second later that same alien fighter took a direct hit from his beam array and detonated as well. It was nice to see he could hurt them, but it didn’t feel like enough. There were too many alien fighters. He swore, when he noted the sensors were counting thousands of the things.

Space opened up in swirling blues and purples just moments before several ships emerged from hyperspace. His reinforcements!

Before he could open his mouth to order a channel, the alien ship vanished in a flash of light. A star showed where it had been for just a second before a second later the ship appeared in weapons range of the response force. A green ray shot from her spherical hull and struck a battleship. Despite the rugged, heavy armor the beam cut into her bow as if it was nothing more than thin paper, slicing a line clean down her frame from bow to stern. Several explosions could be seen from inside just moments before the entire hull went up in flames.

Before he could process that, the alien ship turned her terrible weapon on a second ship. The green ray ripped through everything it touched, leaving great rents in the ship even as she tried to return fire. Her maser batteries spat deadly bolts at the alien sphere yet failed to penetrate the defenses. The other ships joined in, firing on the alien vessel with equally minimal effect. The alien vessel simply launched more of her fighters and cut into each vessel in turn.

He paled at the sight, even as he gave new orders to the crew. Then alarms brought his attention closer to home as the other fighters caught up with his ship, their deadly green beams slamming into his hull. Armor buckled as each strike cut deep into sections across the ship. Damage reports poured in with each passing second. 

Tactical opened fire on them as quickly as they could. Running the masers well into the red, trying to kill enough of the swarming little spheres to save the ship but there were far too many. He glanced at the tactical, the reinforcing squadron was in tatters already, a couple ships were trying to open hyperspace windows. He didn’t blame them, he turned to helm, “Get us out of here! Emergency jump!”

“Aye sir!”

His heart felt heavy, they were abandoning the colony but he had no choice. It was either die here in vain or retreat and regroup. The fleet needed to be briefed; they were outgunned and outmatched. Smoke billowed into the bridge as space itself distorted, a strange charge passed through him as they entered hyperspace. Moments later they were underway, heavily damaged, down their entire fighter complement, and who knows how many dead.