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The Reaver fleet returned to reality over an idyllic blue-green planet, its distant promise of peace covering up the civil war raging across its surface. In orbit around the planet, several arrow-shaped Thaurian corvettes waged a running battle against each other. Reaver picket ships moved ahead, followed by destroyers and cruisers, and swept the Thaurians from space. As the remnants of the corvettes re-entered the atmosphere in long firey clouds of condensation, the Slax pij Pikthid and its attendant destroyers took holding stations around the planet.
"Sir, the fleet reports that it is in attack pattern."
Pikbuuv bowed his head. "Excellent. Coordinate and target all concentrations of military assets. Prepare for orbital bombardment." We don’t actually need this world’s resources now, anyway… we must only ensure that our attack on the shipyard goes as planned, without any Thaurian annoyances on our rear.
The fleet began expelling distortions of reality upon the planet, their heavy gravitic cannon blazing into the planet’s atmosphere. Space could be seen to waver as these packets of gravity tore apart all they came across.
"Sir, we have entered the Terrapa system. Thaurian resistance seems nonexistent."
Xonmik stood in thought. "No, they are probably hiding. There is no point in diversion when there is nothing to divert. Fleet, enter dispersed formation and send out our scouts into the asteroid fields here"-he pointed at blotches of green in the situation holosphere-"and here. We know that the Thaurians like to hide their ships when they aren’t being used."
The Oomlok creeped forward, nestled in its protective sphere of destroyers, as the bulbous scouts plied into the asteroid fields. Their high-powered sensor arrays rotating slowly, the scouts peeked through the unusually dense concentrations of asteroids. Suddenly, the side of one of the scouts opened up in a jagged hole of melted plating, venting gases and crew into space.
"Sir, scout three reports that they’re taking fire… we’ve lost contact."
"The Thaurians are there. Move the fleet to coordinates"-he poked in the holosphere exactly where he wanted the fleet to be-"and enter Gripping Hand formation. Engage the enemy, then fall back. Pull them out of hiding."
Seventeen ships, with three thousand kilometers between them, cautiously approached the asteroid field indicated, their turreted gravitic cannon traversing into position. Two destroyers moved ahead and passed through the field in parabolic arcs, firing their lighter cannons almost at random through the field. Glowing lances of high-powered fusion plasma cannon barely missed the destroyers as they emerged from the field. Three Thaurian cruisers, tetrahedrons bristling with turrets, pursued the destroyers into the open.
"Evasive maneuvers, keep them at distance," Xonmik yelled over the noise of his crew. "Annoy them long enough for them to call for reinforcements. The moment we detect their distress calls, go for the throat."
In a conference room in an armored bunker, Fleet Admiral M’sharra looked over the assembled command staff of Sector Twelve Defense Command, Adjutant Corporal Halzek standing at parade rest to her left and slightly behind her. The Kzroth turned to look at her new adjutant. "Corporal, please brief the staff on the situation."
Halzek nodded curtly, and immediately moved to the conference table’s display controls. He felt out of place, briefing a room full of brass-there wasn’t anyone else who was under the rank of Colonel or navy Captain-but as it was ordered, so shall it be done.
"Thirty minutes ago we received reports from an automated sensor station that a large Reaver fleet went superluminal in Threat Sector Xavier Five, destination unknown. This fleet consisted of at least three vessels of superbattleship-scale, and an unknown number of smaller vessels, although readings indicate that the fleet is on the heavy end of the scale.
"Five minutes ago reports poured in from Intelligence Services, Military Intelligence, and more automated stations that Reavers are entering sublight across Sectors Green Twenty-Three to Green Sixty-Two in the Thaurian Concordat. Combining the signatures we have, they estimate to approximately the size of the fleet that left."
A human colonel at the far end of the table in charge of Exploratory Services deployment spoke up. "Gee-Twenty-Three to Gee-Sixty-Two? They’re spreading themselves rather thin, aren’t they?"
Halzek looked up at the colonel. "Yes, sir. It appears that the Reavers are taking advantage of the complete breakdown in command and control of the Thaurian navy and are launching large diversionary raids over a large area of space to draw away firepower from their primary assault."
Fleet Admiral M’sharra took her seat at the head of the conference table and twitched her tail nervously. "Probable primary assault vector?"
Halzek’s fingers danced across the control panel, bringing up a strategic indicator board showing the "eastern" end of the primary Thaurian galaxy. "As you can see, all reported Reaver incursions are indicated in red"-a group of red icons flashed across the borders of the galaxy, narrowing inward like an axe slice-"with relative strengths shown by the size of the indicators. Moving to a gradient image"-the indicators changed into a shaded wedge, bright in the middle and increasingly dark along the edges-"you can see that they’re taking the traditional ‘weak sides and strong center’ approach. We can see plainly what they’re doing, but the Thaurians don’t have the CC to figure out even this much.
"As to targets along their line of travel, these green indicators"-several green triangles flashed on the display-"show the most strategic locations in the area." Halzek moved from the control console and began pointing at the holographic display. This one"-he pointed at a triangle at the tip of the red spear-"is the regional directorate. Last intel reports were that it was covered in civil conflict caused by… recent events. This one here"-he pointed at one just in front of the spear-"is a major centralized military-industrial complex, but it’s almost as well defended as Earth is. Reaver military modus operandi doesn’t really help us right now, because their doctrines have always been erratic-only way we’ve managed to beat ‘em so often. As for this one"-he pointed at another triangle a bit to the right of the spear-"is the regional shipyards."
Looking at the display, a Koltrop Navy rear admiral snapped its fingers, its translator box buzzing. "It looks like they want to splash down on that fortified planet. If they managed to take it intact, the Thaurians would have no chance to retake it in their current state."
An Army major general shook his head. "The losses they’d incur in doing that would be ludicrous. The Reavers have done some stupid stuff before, but I have a hunch that this isn’t one of their blunders."
M’Sharra scanned the board intently, her slitted pupils looking intently at the red wedge. "Corporal, please zoom in on Green Forty-Seven."
Returning to the control console, Halzek punched some controls and the display zoomed in several thousand light years to show the red wedge in more detail.
"Set the display from gradient to fractal, please."
The red wedge disappeared to be replaced by the indicators showing force strength again, connecting what appeared to be the main thrust with the diversionary raids splitting off in a branching tree-like structure.
The fleet admiral pointed to one large indicator branched off from the trunk of the fractal assault tree, to the right of the main assault. "Do you see that right there? It’s just as big as the main assault, but it looks like it’s on a diversionary raid."
Colonel Halzek checked his datapad. "That’s Contact 070, ma’am; strength is estimated at…"
"At?"
"Superbattleship squadron, ma’am." How could I have not seen it before?
The console beeped, and Hazek read the message displayed on its small screen. "Intelligence update, ma’am. Contact 070 has returned to superluminal."
M’sharra looked at the map; the fleetyards were on the right side of the line of advance, as was Contact 070. "It’s heading for the shipyards. Those facilities will have everything they need to maintain a fleet for a limited period-long enough to hold out until they take more."
She turned back to the command staff and leaned out of her chair, arms spread across the table. "Collect all non-vital ships with any sort of military capability and deploy them to Failsafe Kilo in the demilitarized zone."
The Exploratory Services colonel looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Ma’am, that’s in violation of the Neutrality Pact of 2485. Only the Supreme Emperor has the authority to break it."
Fleet Admiral M’sharra sighed. "I know that, Colonel. However, as I see it, the nation we made that pact with has ceased to exist for the moment, and we cannot allow the Reavers to gain a foothold in the Thaurian Concordat and open a second front on us. If we do not strike them now, it will take far more resources to stop them later.
"I will inform the Supreme Emperor of the situation personally. Work on creating that task force."
"Yes, ma’am."
A communications technician called down from the upper deck: "Incoming orders, Captain. Sector Twelve Defense Command."
Captain Stonozka swiveled around, got out of his chair, and walked to the balcony as the tech kneeled down and handed him the printout through the railing. The captain turned back to the center of the bridge and read in a clear voice: "The WZS-LCR Brisbane is to proceed post-haste to Failsafe Kilo at the predetermined coordinates. There it will rendezvous with the Weirdo Zone task force forming there, designated Task Force GLAIVE. The WZS-SBS Ares, under the command of Fleet Admiral Phillip Nibnumber, will be the flagship of this force. The WZS-LCR Brisbane is hereby transferred to Military Services command for the duration of its assignment to Task Force GLAIVE and is expected to follow all lawful orders of the WZMS."
I thought for a moment… the Fleet Admiral Nibnumber, hero of the advance? Via his commands of the superbattleships Sagittarius and Aries, the Weirdo Zone’s advance accelerated dramatically from the late 90’s onward. He was almost a god to us mere mortals, having led not only many charges into battle but also the covert operation that extracted the defector Mind Queen Shh’ret from the RBC and the diplomatic efforts that had begun the recent détente between the superpowers. Even I, the pacifist, respected him, the warrior.
Captain Stonozka grimaced. I knew him by observation; he hated the idea of killing. Still, he adored the concept of duty more. "Brisbane, we have our orders! Communications, acknowledge orders and make sure all sections are ready for action."
"Acting, sir."
"Helm, set in preprogrammed course, Failsafe Kilo. Get us out of the system, full GDD, and be prepared to fire up the IID as soon as we safely can."
"Acting, sir." There was a barely perceptible hum as the Brisbane began distorting spacetime in a sphere around itself and initiated its acceleration out of the system.
Supreme Emperor J’hnsen sighed as she looked into Fleet Admiral M’sharra’s face in the communicator’s holodisplay.
"This is pushing the envelope of the definition of ‘allowable initiative,’ Admiral."
"I apologize ma’am, but I felt the decision needed to be made. Also, it may put you at ease that Fleet Admiral Nibnumber is leading the task force."
"Nibnumber? How’d you engineer that one?"
"The Ares was passing through Sector 12 from the front to an exploration assignment. I pulled rank as DEFCOM head and pulled him in. He was none too happy about it, either."
"Good, good. Still… Next time Admiral, please just take the five minutes to ask first, okay?"
Captain Val Kordont chuckled, his eyes swirling orange with bemusement. "Job never ends, does it, sir?"
Fleet Admiral Nibnumber sighed. "No, Val, no it doesn’t. We get rotated out of the front lines, and now we’re getting rotated into the new front line."
Rear Admiral Ka-Ri punched his commanding officer lightly, very lightly, on the shoulder. "It’s what we get for being so damned good, right, sir?"
Nibnumber brushed his hand through his brown hair, then set the hardcopy of orders into the "To Do" box he had welded to his command console. "Yes, I think you’re right."
The admiral’s face changed grimly. "Sal, confirm our orders. Liogas, immediate jump to Failsafe Kilo. I want to be there before everyone else so we can make sure the area is clear."
Commander Sallis Fremount, the communications officer, and Lieutenant Commander Liogas Elesi, the helmsman, announced their acknowledgement in turn and began doing their duties with the finesse of long training and hard experience.
"Onri, dedicate additional power to sensors. Val, I want to know everything inside a hundred-thousand light year radius within three-tenths of a second of the time we reach our destination."
Flag Chief Master Sergeant Jessica Onri, the chief engineer, and Captain Kordont, the science officer, voiced their understanding and began working.
Phillip punched a button on his console that patched him into hangar command. "J’rath, put all fighter wings on full standby alert."
Captain J’rath responded from the other end with a "Wilco."
Phillip looked with a steely gaze into the situation display. "Put the ship at Threat Condition One."
Klaxons blared as the ship’s lighting took on a definite red pallor. The condition lights along the meeting of the ceiling and floor glowed yellow.
Liogas announced, without looking from his console, "IID aligned, sir. Ready for jump at any time."
Nibnumber nodded. "Understood. Jump… now."
A push of a button and they were gone.