Yukkira
TNPer
- Discord
- An Actual Walrus#6526
Sins of the Imperium Part I: Leviathan Resurgence
"Captain, we will be exiting hyperspace momentarily," shouts the helmsman. "Good, we will arrive on time. Tell Marco to start prepping the drones, tell the Greys to start prepping their squadrons, and tell my Whites to prep for a final war room before we exit into real space." Several crewmen quickly take off in different directions as the bridge slowly starts coming to life. Up until a few hours ago, the bridge crew were all asleep. I step away from my vantage point above the chaos back to my chair. No matter how much padding they put on these damn things, the chair will never be comfortable. The least they could do is somehow figure out how to stick tiny vents on this thing so as to prevent one from overheating just from bloody sitting. "Give me a sit rep on our force recon."
"Forward scouts conclude several hard-point emplacements set up around the planet," reports the intelligence officer, "The spaceport is only lightly fortified. Local militia forces are composed of a few light frigates in addition to a pair of destroyers."
"They are not expecting us then," I say matter of fact. "No... indeed they are not," says a voice. Through one of the cup holders on the chair, a vine crawls through an opening at the bottom of it. Slowly popping out of the chair, a bud forms on the end of it, bigger and bigger, until it parts in the middle and sprouts what seems to be a mouth with no teeth. Ancient textbook writings called such plants "venus flytraps," supposedly because the red within their mouths made them beautiful. Now, such a plant holds a totally different meaning.
"Are you ready, your Majesty?" I say to the creature. The plant head slowly moves up and down. "We will go over the attack plans one last time then before we exist into real space." The plant head nods again. The vine slowly begins to curl around my arm and into my suit through an opening specifically made for it. "Leviathan organism detected," announces my suit through my earpiece. The Leviathan finds the core at my back, and it detaches its vine at where it entered. Instead of withering though, I can feel it retreat into my suit, and instead enter the pathway up to my shoulder where the vine appears again and sprouts another head. For as long as I've grown up with the Leviathan, I will never get used to how easily we've integrated with it. This strange, almost omnipresent organism which helps to feed and provide for us. Helped us advance our technology beyond our wildest dreams. And helped to found the Principality of Avalon.
"I'm happy that after decades of fighting, your ancestors finally decided to stop burning me..." says the Leviathan. "Not my fault you decided to grow the foliage to epic proportions," I say quietly under my breath. "Cheeky," it says as the mouth nips at my ear. I sometimes can't tell if I'm dealing with one of the most dangerous organisms in known space, or a mutated dog which got transmogrified into a plant that learned to talk. "Dogs are the weird organisms," it begins to say as I get to the tactical display, "They've stayed almost the same for nearly two millennia, having not learned how to speak in anything more than grunts, barks, and growls."
Around the table, several men in sterling white uniforms stand at attention, waiting for me. "At ease," I say looking at them all. "Herfeld, begin." The man on the opposite of me in a cloudy grey uniform nods.
"What force recon reported was as we've already known from refugees fleeing through the system. The only thing new to us are these gun implacements, here, here, and here," he says while highlighting them on the holographic display.
"These destroyers as well were not part of our initial assessments. The frigates are local militia. We're not sure if the destroyers are though."
"How can we not be sure?" I ask of the man in charge of our intel-gathering.
"Because had it just been a single vessel, that would've made sense. A single destroyer supported by the local frigate detail would've been more than enough to dissuade the average gaggle of pirates. Two though, is enough to take down the local militia in addition to potentially boarding and taking control of the spaceport," Herfeld states matter-of-fact.
It made sense. "Are you telling me that there might be a VIP on that planet right now?"
"I can't say for sure," says Herfeld, "maybe it's just a coincidence that they're there."
"There is no such thing as coincidence Herfeld. You of all people should know that," I rebuke.
"I'm only being optimistic," he says while putting his hands up.
"Alright then. Two destroyers doesn't change the fact that we need to disable their orbital defenses. How goes our drone preparation?"
This time a beastman to the left of Herfeld responds, "preparations are almost complete. The swarm has been awakened and are ready to deploy. I made sure to check on our escort drone preparations as well and they are also close to ready. We've waited for this day," says the man with a grunt.
I nod. "And the escort captains?"
A man now to the right responds, "The captains are ready to clear a path for our ship to the surface. Waypoints were checked again to ensure we are all on the same page. D-SCAN (Drone Scanning and Acquisition Network) is currently cycling up and will be ready by the time we exit into real space."
"Good. Give me a sit rep on the NAG's preparation."
This time, a White Captain standing to the right of me responds, "I've liased with Black Captain Ronald of the Tenth Army. Their Charion-class heavy transports are standing by at the gate, waiting for us to deploy the gate on our end. The drop pods are being prepped as we speak."
"Dropping out of hyperspace in T-minus 10!" Calls out the helmsman.
"Alright," I say, "here's the plan. Once we exist hyperspace, all ships will fall in behind the Leviathan and our gateship will begin to deploy. Hecate will move on the station while Nemesis and Ceres move to engage the gun implacements and the local militia. Once the station is disabled and the militia dealt with, the Tenth Army will have already gated in with their escorts and move towards the surface. The Leviathan will take point after any surface defenses are dealt with."
"Orders received Black Captain," says a voice from the tactical display. "Lord-Commander Yaer would approve."
"Kind words from one whom isn't qualified to give them, Grey Captain Doza," I remark. The man laughs.
"May your weapons fire true Black Captain," Grey Captain Doza says, probably saluting despite his image not being transmitted over the holo-feed.
"And yours as well Grey Captain," I say while terminating the translation. "Someone raise Grey Captain Quadrano."
"No need to Black Captain, I heard everything," she says. I nod.
"I take it you asked your Majesty about what was being said?" I inquire, already knowing what the answer will be.
"How can you be sure I heard, everything?" says the Grey Captain.
"Play hooky with someone else Quadrano. The Lord-Commander will be looking over this operation personally. I've got a job to do Captain," I say, trying to keep her focused.
"You ever stop to think about why?" She asks.
"We are the first spearhead of many Grey Captain. Of course he'd like to oversee our operation personally. Whatever that means," I say, trying to finish the subject.
"There's a lot more to the Council than you think, Captain," she says cryptically. I know what she's talking about. No one at my rank would get to where I am without understanding that the lines aren't as finite as one might seem.
"What's your point Captain Quadrano?"
"I'm saying that you should keep your head on straight during these next few hours. I will as well. And so will Dolza," she says.
"Are you sure you should be saying what you are over open comms?" I ask.
"Black Captain Yura," she begins, "the only reason why Captain Doza and I are where we are now is because we've followed you. Think on that thought for a moment will you? Now, I must see to finishing my preparations. May every shot fly true Black Captain," she says while terminating the transition from her end.
"I know Captain..." I say, letting my mind wander for a moment, forgetting my Captains currently at the round table. Picking up the slack however, "All Captains report to your stations. T-minus 2 to exit into real space," dictates the helmsman. Over the speakers, announce, "ALL CREW TO BATTLE STATIONS. ALL CREW TO BATTLE STATIONS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ALL CREW TO BATTLE STATIONS. EXIT TO REAL SPACE IMMINENT. CRITICAL PERSONNEL PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR COMMANDING CAPTAIN IMMEDIATELY."
Getting back to my chair, I announce over the intercom, "Alright men, this is it. Today, we make a statement. Not one of hatred or vengeance. But one of definite parity."
"The Syndicate have no idea that we are coming. They have no idea of the force that we're coming with. And until now, we've lived in relative obscurity within their shadow. But now is the time to end our sulking within the opaque mists of our small pocket of space. Now is the time to come into the light; both to the delight and horror to all. They have no expectations ladies and gentlemen. So let's give them a few. Whether or not we all come out of this operation alive is dependent on how well we perform in these next couple of hours. May every shot fly true. And may the gods of the stars watch over us all. That is all."
And with that, the encroaching Avalonian-Leviathan armada drops out of hyperspace.
A fleet with a core of a single Revelation-class supercarrier, supported by three Retribution-class assault carriers. Screening for them are seven Deliverance-class dreadnoughts, a baker's dozen of Avalon-class heavy cruisers, and two dozen Starlight-class cruisers. The main bulk of the Avalonian naval presence was comprised of a several dozen Mako-class and White Sky-class destroyers, Salvation-class fast attack frigates, Praetorian-class heavy frigates, and Sentinel-class corvettes. Within the shadow of the Nyx-class supercarrier were several Charion-class heavy transports and their escorts.
Alas, for as many ships as the Avalonian Navy was committing, their numbers were dwarfed by the creatures accompanying them. A dark-green mass of bio-organisms swarmed around the Seventh Avalonian Expeditionary Fleet.
"Ah," remarks the Leviathan, "the life on this world is ripe for harvesting." Her eyes were an endless sea of black and yellow dots that permeate across the black expanse of space. Her words were the soundless roars of a multitude of mouths keening and screaming into the void. Her fury was her children committed. A swarm of a billion of creatures gathered within and without. Drones of all sizes races between ship and bioship alike. Soldiers hugged up against their motherships both for nourishment and in innate defense. And the largest of spacefaring organisms known as Krakens, slowly but ever so imperceptibly begin to pick up speed, racing towards the planet.
"Grey Haven to Shield of Deliverance," hails Captain Yura.
"Ready to deploy, Captain," says the Knight in charge of the ship.
"Deploy. Deploy."
"Yes Black Captain," confirms the knight.
"All Mako-class destroyers and fast attack frigates, form up on your VIPs. White Captains have impetus until noted otherwise."
Another round of confirmations are said in response.
A civilian freighter immediately swerves to avoid making contact with a Mako-class destroyer, only having to immediately swerve again to avoid nearly being unintentionally eaten by the open jaws of a Leviathan organism.
"What the bloody hell is that thing?!" says the captain of the freighter over open comms.
"All ships do not engage any civilian vessels. We do not harm the defenseless," I say over comms.
"How can you tell that they're civilian ships though?" asks Captain Doza.
"I can't," I say to him while walking back to the tactical display. "Are my drone handlers at their station?"
"Yes Black Captain," says a voice over the tactical display. Marco oversaw all of the drone handlers on the Nyx and would be overseeing all drone operations in the theater.
"Good, start the simulation. Deploy the swarm."
"Yes Black Captain," replies Marco.
Down in the drone hangar below, several individuals sit at consoles arrayed in a half-crescent moon. In groups of three, sat several teams in charge of all of the drones on just the Revelation-class alone.
"Simulation cycling up. The clock as started," says Marco for all to hear.
"Gold division cycling up," begins an operator at one of the consoles.
"Red division cycling up."
"Blue division cycling up."
"Green division cycling up."
"All other drone divisions are confirming ready position," says Marco's lieutenant.
"Confirming all divisions cycling into attack position. Mark," completes Marco.
All across the hangar, drones lift out of their cradles and launch into open space. Many other Avalonian ships also begin to release their drones; the drones themselves coming to form a shimmering silver wave undulating as if part of an ocean.
Back above on the bridge, the helmsman calls out, "We're getting hails from the surface!"
"Put them on the display Captain," I say to the helmsman. There's first static, followed by a cut-off intermission, saying, "-IDENTIFY YOURSELF! ALL UNIDENTIFIED VESSELS IDENTIFY YOURSELVES IMMEDIATELY OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS! I REPEAT, ALL UFOS PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELVES PER THE SYNDICATE SPACE CODE OF CONDUCT!"
"At least he's saying please," remarks the Leviathan.
"Maintain radio silence and continue towards way point Beta Zeta 0-2-4," I order, "no one begins the assault until my mark. Drone handlers, begin target assignment. Give me firing solutions on frigates. Forward batteries only."
"Orders received Black Captain," says Marco. Looking up at his drone handlers, he announces, "begin D-SCAN targeting assignment."
On the tactical display on the bridge, the layout suddenly switches to a simulation of the entire theater of war. A large spherical body lay at the center with two smaller ones orbiting it. Around the closer of the two, a spaceport can clearly be seen in a stationary orbit around the smaller sphere. Around the larger one, several gun emplacements can be seen covering the approaches to the planet. Slowly, targeting specs begin highlighting the spaceport, gun emplacements, and the militia ships, with colors indicating which squadron has locked onto the target with minor details indicating with what that squadron is using to target.
Down below back at the drone handler array, the teams were busy calculating targeting solutions for their drones.
"Knocking on Epsilon-Zeta-2-4-7-3," would call out the first of three.
"Assigning to Box-0-5-2, 0-5-5, and 0-1-9," would say the second.
"Routing via Wilson Lane," would finish the third.
"Confirming assignment 0-4-4-1," Marco would confirm, "D-SCAN is running on all cylinders and is waiting to acquire more targets captain."
"Standby Marco," I say to him while pulling up my Revelation on the tactical overview. The dynamic of the overview shifts to the flotilla with stats coming off of a live feed of all the systems currently active within the fleet while projection indicators begin sighting live firing solutions for the forward batteries.
"Confirm targeting solution lock," I say into the tactical display.
"Confirming," says the White Captain currently overseeing the forward guns.
"All Squadrons hold short at attack positions," I say while looking up from the display, "Grey Captain Herfeld!"
"Yes sir?" replies the helmsman.
"You're back in charge of the squadron. Execute per my orders as you see fit."
"Yes sir!" replies the Grey Captain. Quickly, he gets his lieutenant to captain the wheel and makes his way back up to the tactical display.
"You enjoy being a squadron captain again?" He says to me with a smirk.
"Always a pleasure old friend," I say to him while putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Suddenly the intel-captain calls out, "I'm picking up movement from the frigates and the destroyers. All of the frigates are forming a picket line on our approach route with one of the destroyers taking the lead. I'm picking up enemy spacecraft coming from the station. The lead destroyer of the picket line is also releasing craft. The second is currently firing on all six engines in the opposite direction."
Quickly pulling up the drone overview, "Marco! Give me a quick response force immediately and find me a lock-on with the destroyer breaking for the exit!"
"Reassigning Seabass 0-5-2 through 0-5-9 over to you. York street is your calling card," replies Marco.
"Doza, give me the Pyre of Avalon."
"Reassigning the Starlight over to you."
"Starlight 0-6-6 confirm ready for instructions."
"Awaiting your command, Black Captain Yura."
"Target that destroyer's engines and confirm when ready!"
"Yes Captain."
"All squadrons move to final destinations and bypass the way point! All power to shields! Marco, Greenlight! I repeat, the light is green! Engage the enemy craft at will!"
"Orders received," Confirms Marco. On the tactical display, the large swarm of drones begin moving ahead of the fleet. Outside the fleet deck, the view is suddenly filled by tiny silver tiny fish with streams of green in their wake.
"Confirming solution lock Captain," says the Knight in charge of the Pyre of Avalon.
"Fire!"
Just as the pillars of light would touch the barest tips of the engine blocks, the destroyer is engulfed in a flash of light and disappears.
"Damn it!" I say while pounding my fist like a hammer against the tactical display. On it, the destroyer moving away from the planet blinks out of existence as it executes a jump just in the nick of time.
"Grey Haven! Grey Haven! Grey Haven beacons! Begin lane evaluation and shift gears to four. Green all the way through to the park!" Turning back to my own Grey Captain, I tell him, "Begin the transmission on all open channels."
Across the void, all open radio frequencies begin to sound a muffled noisy static. Followed by a moment of clarity. And then a voice of voices; a single prophet among many. Over and over again the message plays without pause or cause for stop. Clear are its words, vague is its message.
And as the invading fleet engages the picket line, the message begins, "The broken have risen from the grave. That which was lost has at last been found. Time is meaningless and the will eternal. The Leviathan Resurgence has begun."
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