Barbarians

We held the coastline

They held the highland

And they were sharp

As sharp as knives

They heard the hum of the motors

They counted the rotors

And waited for us to arrive

Billy Joel - “Goodnight Saigon”

Admiral Fujimoto’s eyes glittered in satisfaction as the two task forces merged, with the HK’s in the center and the Comets covering the flanks. The two fleets eyed each other, circling in opposition around the planet as they sized each other up. Part of her wished to make a hard run in, using the HK’s to smash her way through and settle this, once and for all, but she stayed her hand. Every engagement against the Khonhim fleet had ended badly for the Triumvirate, and she didn’t dare squander the chance she now had.

So...if she wasn’t content to just sit there in the system, and a full out assault wasn’t in the cards just yet, what did that leave? A probing attack, perhaps? Tempting, but given the disposition of the enemy any advance forces sent in would be hammered to pieces.

That left a passing engagement...assuming the Khonhim didn’t strike first. If she ordered her fleet to sweep past the enemy, engaging each other like two ancient galleons firing broadsides it still gave her the ability to break off. She could evaluate the new ships in action, and more importantly...give the Khonhim a taste of what was to come.

“Dhyaksh, the enemy fleet has changed course!” his tactical officer announced.

Jiyazh stared at the plot, nodding as the Triumvirate fleet began their run. It seemed they wished to test their mettle, before committing to a full engagement. That suited him as well, for these new ships were an unknown quality, and until he had a better sense of what they could do he too was leery of pressing an attack home.

“Bring the fleet about,” he ordered. “We will indulge the enemy. If they wish to touch blades, it would be dishonorable to refuse the challenge,” he said with a thin smile.

Hélène had wondered how the Khonhim would respond to her challenge, and it seemed they were just as curious about her as she was about them. They could have broken off or moved to intercept, but instead, they were mirroring her movements as they closed the distance. They were like two ancient knights on horseback, their lances leveled as they charged one another in a jousting tournament. It was almost as formal as a duel...but a thousand times bloodier.

The HK’s swung their turrets starboard, tracking the Khonhim fleet as they closed the distance, while the Comets stood ready to intercept the inbound missiles. It was this type of engagement that was all but impossible to forecast, for each ship class had its pluses and minuses. The Khonhim ships were massive, far more able to soak up damage while spewing out wave after wave of missiles in return...but were also filled with thousands of living beings. A punctured hull meant death to anyone nearby if they were not suited up, but even that was no guarantee. It was as if their enormous size brought with it a vulnerability of its own.

The HK’s held exactly one crewman, and since the Ronin did not require atmosphere to breathe a hull breach did not mean an automatic fatality. But they were also much smaller craft, and if the enemy managed a good solid hit that penetrated their armor, it would likely destroy the ship.

Even as they neared weapons range, both fleets still had the ability to break off the engagement if they so choose...but neither side showed any intention of doing so. Unless something unexpected took place, it committed them to follow through. Minute by agonizing minute, they closed the distance, entering extreme weapons range, but Admiral Fujimoto held back. She wanted to make each shot count, and the closer they got the better the odds.

They passed through long-range with neither fleet firing, each side boring in as they both held their fire, conserving their ammunition. Entering medium-range Hélène was tempted to give the order, but still, she held back, waiting to see if the Khonhim would be the first to blink. It was a game of chicken now, as they raced towards one another...but as their vectors began to converge, she could wait no longer.

“Fire!” she ordered...as both fleets unleashed hell.

Jiyazh had to admire the human’s intrepidness. It was tempting for any commander to open fire the instant they had the range but doing so would deplete one’s magazine chasing low probability hits. As they screamed towards one another, it became a source of fascination for him, wondering just how close the humans planned on getting before bringing their weapons into action. Would they wait until they reached point-blank range? He found it unlikely, for he had no intentions of waiting that long, robbing himself of opportunities to inflict real harm on the enemy fleet. There was a perfect moment to fire...he did not know what it was, just yet...but he would know when the time was right, of that he was certain.

And then, it came.

His first missiles were just clearing the fleet when the enemy returned fire...or perhaps they fired first, it was hard to say. Hundreds of guided projectiles arced away, seeking the enemy ships, bobbing and jinking to avoid destruction as they bored in. Jiyazh watched with satisfaction as the Triumvirate craft began to die...but for every missile that struck home half a dozen others found nothing but space. It was a game of numbers, how many of them could one kill, before they did the same to you?

But then it was their turn, and with quiet despair Jiyazh watched the enemy’s deadly antimatter rounds blast through his ships, tearing into their hulls and exposing whole sections to space. His own flagship Oathkeeper shuddered as half a dozen rounds ripped into her flesh, seeking the soft meat within. Whole sections of his display turned bright orange, signifying damaged systems and blasted compartments. Alarms blared on all decks as his engineers raced to repair the damage, while others carried their wounded cohorts away from the shattered sections to safety. Requite and Vindication disappeared in balls of flame, and a dozen more staggered out of formation with heavy damage.

...including Oathkeeper.

Admiral Fujimoto gripped her armrests as the Comets and HK’s began to disappear. The weapons were flying too fast and furious for anything other than a computer to keep track, but keep it track it did, updating her as the two fleets tore at each other. The HK’s were performing even better than she’d hoped...as small as they were compared to the Khonhim ships they were hard to lock onto, and being heavily armored they were difficult to kill.

Despite all that, they weren’t invulnerable. The HK’s might die hard...but they still died.

But even as her own ships perished, the enemy was getting hammered hard. It was far too early in the engagement to declare a victory, but as they continued to sweep past the Khonhim fleet Hélène began to feel a sense of cautious optimism. They were holding their own, which considering their previous battles was cause for celebration...and as the two fleets broke apart and peeled off in opposite directions, she could finally let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

Death and destruction lie in their wake, but the bulk of her fleet was still intact, still able to fight, and as she ordered the flotilla to regroup and assess their losses, she was already planning their next engagement. This first battle had been a test, as both she and her counterpart gauged each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Their next encounter, however...would be a bloodbath.

Klaxons screamed on Oathkeeper’s bridge as the ship shuddered yet again. One of the enemy’s rounds had burrowed its way into Engineering, tearing into the power plant that was the ship’s heart. Jiyazh gripped his console as she began to buck and shake, as his harried and frantic engineer gave his report.

“It is no use, Dhyaksh,” he informed him, “we have suffered too much damage to save the ship. We must abandon, before we lose the crew.”

It was the last thing in the universe that Jiyazh wished to hear. Oathkeeper was not just any ship, nor even from where he led the crusade, but something far more important. Her very name carried their promise to their forebears and losing her felt as if they were betraying the cause itself.

But flesh and metal had their limits, and no matter how mighty Oathkeeper once had been, she was no more. “Very well,” he said, “I will shift my command to Wrath, while we...”

A massive explosion knocked them off their feet, as Oathkeeper broke her back. Her hull buckled and screamed in agony as her death throes threatened to take the rest of her crew with her to the grave, as Jiyazh clawed his way back to his console.

“...Abandon ship!” he gasped, as the sound of tearing metal filled their ears, “All hands, make for the lifepods!”

Reports were still coming in from the fleet, and Admiral Fujimoto grimaced as she read the Butcher’s Bill. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, but it had been bad enough, though by the looks of the enemy they had taken the bigger blow. Even as she watched yet another Khonhim vessel bled out, shedding escape pods as it began to disintegrate.

And then something odd happened.

The rest of the enemy ships began to move, altering their formation, forming what appeared to be a protective shell around the dying craft. Hélène’s eyes narrowed as she watched them take their positions...but what was the point? That ship was dead, it was as obvious to her as it had to be to them, so why on Earth would they…?

A sharp gasp of air betrayed her realization. There was only one reason she could think of, and if she was right...

Hélène thought furiously. If they somehow had taken out the Khonhim flagship, then they had a golden opportunity before them. Command would be confused, disjointed...but it would not last long. If she did this then she dare not hesitate even for an instant, but was the risk worth taking?

Her jaw hardened as she decided. Admiral Fujimoto stabbed the com button on her console and snarled into the mic, “All ships, come about! Back at them, boys...straight into their teeth!”