The Black

-2 weeks earlier-

Commodore Gregory Burgoyne stood on the bridge of the escort Carrier Tours. He was in command of Pathfinder Task Force Echo comprising his flag, the Terran Eros-class Cruiser Kyle, and the Martian Corvette-class Destroyers Gale and Valles .

Gregory was still getting used to his command. He tugged on his tunic and crossed his arms, absent-mindedly running his thumb over the Martian Flag on his arm. Commanding a Terran vessel had been an interesting experience so far. Commanding a hybrid fleet from a Terran flag ship you had been given 3 weeks before departure into the ‘beyond here, there be dragons’ part of the galaxy; even more so.

“Destination coordinates 2 minutes out, Sir.” Captain Andretti Franco mentioned, walking up to him.

‘Artificial gravity, another first’ Burgoyne mused turning to the Tour’s Diminutive but intense Captain, “Very good, we don’t know what we are dropping into. Clear for action if you please but keep Fire Control on standby for now.”

Captain Franco nodded and returned to the captain’s chair pressing a button on his armrest. The main Coms station started transmitting the orders fleet-wide, and the Commodore tapped his wrist pad on his uniform and mentally chuckled as the helmet on his combination uniform/vacuum suit assembled itself about his head.

One of the first exchanges between Delmar and Sol had included medical GU nanotechnology. The eggheads in Sol had quickly reappropriated the little miracle machines into all sorts of new and interesting directions, including uniforms. During the GSW, crew and officers had to change into bulky ‘exo suits’ before battle so that the ship could be depressurized. Not so anymore because of nano tech. The first of the hybrid uniforms had been issued to the Expedition forces. As such the very slightly bulkier than it should be uniform held not only low-profile armor, but an entire sealing and rebreather system. The war for Sol had taught both sides that keeping a starship pressurized during battle was suicide. Thus, standard practice had become to suit up and depressurize as part of “clearing for action”.

Burgoyne nodded in his helmet at the board flashed green, indicating every crew member aboard Tours was sealed up. This was quickly followed by a faint and fading hiss of depressurization.

“Point defense and main guns reporting in Captain.” the man at Tactical barked through the bridge intercom.

“20 seconds to arrival.” came the report from the Helm.

“Take us out on the mark Mr. Sikorsky if you please.” came the calm tones of Captain Franco

——————————————————————

Ami sank to a knee once more as another blast rocked the GHO station.

“Where are our escorts!!!!” Bellowed a nearby crewman frantically.

They had been knocked out of subspace less than 10 ‘minutes’ ago and had been immediately taken under fire by 5 cobbled together scrap Barges that were the standard fare for Piracy inside the Unity. The three Frontier Brigs of the UGN had not followed them out into real space. Luckily the weapons on the pirate capital ships were as unrefined as their hulls. While a GHO Orbital Distribution Platforms had no weapons, their shields were legendary in their ability to take punishment. They could not last forever however, and the barges were preventing a run for subspace bodily.

She checked over her console. 3 hours, they had 3 hours until their shields failed.

She keyed up the Unity Emergency frequency once more, “This is Coordinator Aminaira, aboard the ODP 871459. We are under pirate attack! I repeat we are under attack! No escorts present. Shield failure on 3hours. Request immediate assistance! I repeat, we are under…”

——————————————————————

“Jump complete, fleet reports green” the Con of Tours reported.

“Captain, Energy signatures 084 mark 007. They match weapons fire signatures from our Data.” The Tac station reported.

“At us?” Asked the Commodore

“Negative sir, we have sensor image now” came the voice of the combination sensor/fire control station.

“Put it up” Franco barked.

An image of a massive egg-shaped station/ship thing being bombarded by several floating junkyards spitting laser and plasma

“Captain, we are receiving a transmission. It matches the emergency frequencies given to us for the Galactic Health Organization.” Came a report from the con.

“On the overhead” Commodore Burgoyne commanded, and Ami’s message rang out through the speakers.

“Tactical assessment.” Gregory turned to the Tactical station.

“Danger close fire mission sir, I recommend against using the Kyle. I like Gale and Valles for this.” Came the Terran's response before he gave his commodore a grin, “You red dirt Rambos always did love building for close-in and surgical, keep Tours and Kyle in support to pick off any stragglers.”

Burgoyne gave him a toothy grin, “Very well,” he turned to the Com “Signal Gale and Valles: Danger close, PAC’s and Harpoons except for emergency. Kyle and Tours to open order support. Launch a close support fighter screen to cover the Corvettes. Execute.”

Organized chaos exploded around him as his orders were carried out. He glanced at the observation window to see the two Martian destroyers surge away toward the battle under hard burn.

——————————————————————

It took 40 minutes for Ami to get to the bridge. Gravity had stuttered twice and failed entirely, once. She had landed hard on her Right knee from the fall and was limping badly as she entered the command deck of the Station.

“Report!” She grunted through the pain.

“No response. I’m not even getting a standard signal from the UGN. It’s like we don’t exi…..” A massive flash of light erupted as the barge furthest from them detonated and began to break up.

“Gods!! We have contact!! 311 by284 how the hell did they get so close!! Hulls do not match anything in the computer!” A crewman howled. The Lycan man had his ears pinned back in shock as two small craft, barely half the size of the pirate barges came screaming down toward them under hard deceleration burn. They were long for their size a roughly oval central hull with massive main drives, 3 at the rear and two more in swiveling pods amidships. The lead ship released 4 little puffs of smoke from its dorsal section. These turned into a trail of white as Ami looked on in shock. These white trails CURVED from their initial path and began CHASING one pirate barge that tried to dodge. Two of these puffs made for that barge as two more ended in a flash of explosive light. The first flash overloaded the barge's shields and the second literally blew the barge into 3 pieces. The second strange vessel shut down its rear most engines and its mishap engine pods swiveled to oppose each h other and fired. Swing the blunt prow of the craft to bare on the last barge. Ami threw her hands up to cover her eyes as a yellow-orange column of light erupted from use below the centerline of the strange ship’s prow, cleanly bifurcating the last remaining barge stern to bow.

It was over in a matter of seconds. One clean strafing pass and the two spun again and began a ridiculously hard burn back toward the two contacts on sensors that had not engaged. The command deck was utterly silent for several minutes. Before the Comm station began beeping.

“Uh… Coordinator… we are receiving a hale. 2D only.” the crewman stammered.

“Well, this should be enlightening… put it on the main viewer.” She stated trying to regain some composure herself

The main viewer descended over the observation window and activated. Ami’s eyes widened as a bipedal being in a perfectly pressed almost black, blue military uniform trimmed in silver appeared before her. He was standing in a strange command center with several of the same beings bent to various tasks. She caught a quick strange look on his face and the hair patch over one of those dark brown piercing eyes raised for a moment. He unclasped his hands from the small of his back and gave a slight bow.

“Galactic Health Organization vessel, I am Commodore Gregory Bergoine of the United Sol Federation Navy at your service. Whom do I have the Honor of addressing?” he offered, in perfect Galactic Common.

——————————————————————

-2hours before-

Mac was looking over the linked chains of ammunition being fed into Concord’s loading doors. Concord spun her feeder palls as she inhaled the long belts of the first Delmar-made 34GAU ever produced. The fab units were able to duplicate the weight, design, dimensions, and quality of the Terran made projectiles; however, Tungsten was not available as a resource here. Instead, Dura Steel had proven to be an a worthy replacement. These new projectiles had no core, encapsulated in the 4mm Sabots was a 100 percent Durasteel dart, retaining the balance, conductivity, and weight of the original darts so that Concord was tested to not be able to tell the different or even need a targeting recalibration. At 1% of the speed of light, these would do nicely.

Concord had spent 80 percent of her GAU’s magazine capacity since Mac’s arrival. Now, she was returning to her 10,000 round fully loaded state. She was still down 3 normal Phoenixes and 2 Sparrows; this would have to do.

He smiled as he felt Lyri come ‘into range’ as he called it.

She wrapped her arms around him from behind and gave a squeeze, keeping her hands free of the rapidly moving belt Mac was feeding into the ship.

“Hey, luv” he said over his shoulder “You sure you want this? No one survives their first taste of war. The ones that come home, they aren’t the same people…”

“If this fleet is as big as we suspect… and they are V.R….. I can’t afford not to go with you.” she turned him around just as the last of the ammunition flowed into Concord, locking his eyes in her’s, “We do this. Together… I’m making sure you come home to me, you hear me.” she whispered as she laid a head on his shoulder.

“You need a moment?” A familiar voice called from across the Hanger. Ivar sauntering in with the rest of Himar’s wing. They had moved their Rangers to Mac’s airfield after the news broke. concord had been attached to the wing, and Mac had had to explain why he started chuckling when he had learned that Himar’s wing was technically officially designated 303 wing. They had brought food, and everyone settled into the folding chairs and tables to chow while on alert. Mac had opened his home to the boys, and they had spent the last week dueling with each other in the sim, working out on the home gym. Or seeing who passed out the fastest in the back seat of Concord.

“That was fast. Where’d lunch from thi….”

——————————————————————

Jakruth stood on the bridge of his flagship barge studying the readouts.

“1 ‘minute’ to arrival” the navigation station’s occupant announced.

“Set manual subspace drop. 1.03 seconds” Jakruth decided.

This was a deadly gambit. Strict adherence to the beacon points was the safest way. Changing any variable could end in dropping into normal space inside a planet, or a Star, or an asteroid field. It mattered not to Jakruth. They were already dead, after all.

They dropped from subspace at 1.03 into the welcoming party of Delmar Defense frigates. It would have been four of them… would have…

Jakruth’s plan had worked. The Void’s Revenge Armada dropped out of subspace too close to avoid. The three Brigs slammed into the Delmar frigates, tearing each other apart in a brutal collision. The Delmar ships had been waiting in ambush a 1 hour burn from the traditional arrival point. They were not ready for action. The combined pieces of six destroyed ships hammered into the final Delmar frigate, ripping gaping holes in her side as she vented her guts to the void.

The 6 Barges had been ordered to prepare shields and weapons. Their defensive fields flickered and sparked as they plowed through the debris. Firing on the remaining Wounded Frigate to ensure its destruction. They were two hours from Delmar at full burn.

“Make for the planet, launch fighters... kill…” Jakruth began…

“EVERYTHING!” The crew around him chanted in response.

——————————————————————

-45 minutes before-

Tranquility, Hathcock, Holden, and Jezero flashed into normal space at their destination beacon. Their voyage was over as the plasma whisps of prolonged travel on the border of real space and subspace e trailed off of their hulls.

“Jesus….” Captain Brian Willows exhaled as a graveyard of freshly murdered starships greeted him through the sensor viewer.

“Get the admiral! I want a full long- and short-range scan!” He bellowed.

The Terran ambassadorial fleet had to burn hard subjectively ‘up’ to avoid crashing into the expanding carnage of metal and organic remains.

“REPORT!” The Admiral barked as she followed her Chief of staff, who had beaten her there, through the door.

“Scan complete Captai… I mean Admiral, unknown design mixed with components of reported Delmar designs. It was a collision followed by a short firefight. Long range reports a second engagement already joined. 40 Delmar signatures… and a Terran Beacon. Reading ‘Cobra224’. They appear to be trying to screen the planet. Three small Delmar capital ships on the Star side of the battle. 6 unknown designs all being painted as hostile. Captain. It’s bad.”

Admiral Gwen didn’t have time for sentiment. She had to act. “Tranquility and Hathcock, hard burn on present course. Holden, and Jezero make for the battle at maximum acceleration. Hathcock you are cleared to fire when solution does not include the planet as a backstop. Holden and Jezero, focus on remaining capital ships upon arrival. Execute!” She turned to Clint, “Commodore, get to a shuttle. Launch search and rescue. 5 fighter escorts. Find anyone still alive then burn for the planet, or the nearest Delmar ship. Go!” she commanded.

The fleet split as ordered, it would be 40 minutes until her Eros could engage without risk of killing millions on the planet.

The Eros class Dreadnoughts class, named as a backhanded nod to the Greek god of passion’s skill with a bow, were a legitimate threat to most celestial bodies. Traditionally named after famous or infamous Terran snipers, Hathcock Measured over 10 kilometers long with a central hill 2 kilometers in diameter. The forward third to her prow split into 4 equal pieces with gaps in between in the shape of a plus sign from the front.

The entire front 2/3rd of her was dedicated to her primary weapon, a Rheinmetall G.A.O.A (Gauss Accelerated Orbital Artillary) - 4820. Most Terran Sailors just called the weapon “Vulkan” on account of its tendency to superheat its rounds on firing causing them to melt slightly and elongate in transit. The 40 in her designation Indicated her projectile length in meters, the 20 the projectiles diameter without Sabot. In short Hathcock could accelerate a 100 ton molten tungsten Cored steel projectile 40 meters long by 20 meters wide to 15 percent of the speed of light.

Her operation was so violent, that she had two massive ‘wings’ attached to a recoil track. these wings terminated in a pod that housed the crew and the main engines. ‘Vulkan ’ would simply kill anyone in the main hull and damage her main drives any other way. A set of smaller special-purpose drives were installed on the aft of the main hull. They had one purpose, to mitigate the recoil of firing and return the main hull “into battery” for the next shot.

She was the only ship in the Sol arsenal that required a power bank to fire the main gun.

—————————————————————

303 wing was under full burn making for the enemy. Concord was tail-end Charlie on account of her main drives being dangerous to any Ranger in formation behind her.

The call had come out just as they were eating lunch. The interdiction fleet was gone. Three Delmar Corvettes and the planetary defense wings were all that was left.

“Fighters! Gods lots of fighters!” Fizz called everyone.

“Break! Kill zone, Charlie!” Ivar barked. BigMac slammed the controls over, ceasing their deceleration burn and pointing his powerful frontal radar at the incoming.

“Paint’em up!” He barked even as Fizz started feeding him targeting solutions. The GAUs barked again and again as Concord filled the enemy's path with hate. Dozens of explosions appeared as he and the rest of the fighters scored an enormous first reaping as each of the Rangers expended their 30-round Delmar-made Gauss pods before ejecting them for more maneuverability. Then… the battle was joined.

303 squadron held discipline breaking a hole in the formation that gave Concord an opportunity to claim the first Barge with a pair of Sparrows.

Time ceased. There was nothing but the wail of engines. The screams of the dying over the radio and the sound of their own guns firing as BigMac and Fizz desperately fought to get to the capital ships. They needed to end this before the Barges reached orbit.

It didn’t happen. The enemy adapted. Suicidally so, and the Delmar forces began fighting a desperate retreat towards the planet.

—————————————————————-

“Admiral, Hathcock reports clear firing solution,” Captain willows reported.

“Fire at will, target the enemy capital ships.” The Admiral responded. The Martian destroyers were 4 minutes out, and the Delmar contingent was dwindling and had almost been forced back to their own orbit.

———————————————————

Captain Wyatt Colburn turned to face the forward once more, “Give me Ithaca, two round spread. Call it.”

“Chargin’ ” the chief gunner drawled back his confirmation.

“Ithaca Ithaca Ithaca danger close 30 seconds to firing.” the Coms began to warn on secure frequency as Colburn prayed Mackenzie could hear them.

Ithaca was an ammunition type for the Eros class. It was a segmented projectile designed to execute a controlled break up on firing. It turned Hathcock into an interplanetary fire breathing shotgun. The power banks could only do double taps such as this once every hour. ‘This is going to have to count.’

*This is Cobra 224 Friendlies in the cone! I repeat, Friendlies in the cone!! I request 60 seconds and bearing of incoming! *

——————————————————————

The last few defenders turned to flee, and Jakruth gave an evil chuckle. “let the fighters chase them, hold course for De….”

The universe flashed molten yellow as 30 thousand shards of semi liquid steel and depleted uranium impacted 4 of his Barges at relativistic speeds. 3 of them simply ceased to exist leaving behind a bubble of expanding gas and molten fragments. The fourth had lost her entire aft quarter and was ablaze, spinning wildly spilling atmosphere and bodies onto the void.

“Jakruth!! We have incoming! Two unknown designs! I’m reading massive powe…”

The two Martian Destroyers opened fire with their PAC batteries. A PAC was what happened when you gave a scientist crazy enough to terraform a world the picture of a massive laser cannon, and the picture of a particle accelerator. Then you force feed this scientist a kilo of stimulants and order him to combine the items pictured onto a working ship grade weapon. It was the most blatant abuse of energy consumption outside of Eros. The two beams of particle laced light beams dissected the final Barges, super heating the atmosphere inside and flash roasting any survivors.

—————————————————————-

Thankfully Mac had been listened to. The pirate fighters had followed them into a low polar orbit where the surviving Delmar forces were given front seats to Humanity’s wrath incarnate.

“Gods… that is… “ Ivar Qued over the mic. The fighters were still perusing. There were 13 enemy fighters left.

“Yes, it is…” Mac’s voice was Frigid, “Fizz I’m coming about, spoole the sparrows for data link. paint everything not Delmar.” Mac cut his engines and kicked concord around to face the enemy while flying backwards. He was already receiving locks as the seeker heads started screaming in his ears.

The ‘hyper-sparrow’ was indeed heat seeking, but heat seekers had come a long way. Concord locked each fighter individually and transmitted each individual heat signature to a separate sparrow.

Mac grinned into his helmet as the last seeker head went from growling to screaming,

“Fox 2!” He Growled, losing 13 individually hunting missiles onto the black.

It was over in seconds.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Mac slumped in his seat after shutting down concord in her hanger… Lyri was breathing heavily in the back seat, but they were alive.. He Dragged himself down the ladder and waited for Lyri. She barely had the strength to get down and he scooped her up as she stepped off the last rung. She clung to him, part exhaustion, part relief, topped with anguish. This did not feel like a victory.

“My gods…” she sobbed softly into his shoulder. “My gods….”

“I know... but we are alive, Delmar is safe for now...” he whispered to her. He could feel her struggling with what had just happened.

“We lost so many...” She sobbed, tears flowing freely now.

“We saved so many more. The dead will be honored by the living. They will be remembered.” he knew it wasn’t much. She had helped teach many of the ones that didn’t return this day. They were her, and his students; some of them were friends.

“Come, let’s get showered and changed. Darclemus wants us both there to meet this Ambassador of theirs.” Mac said as he carried her to the house. This was the longest day ‘in the saddle’ she had done, and the most G intensive. He had not been able to spare her, even with Concord set to a 9G limit, as they fought for their lives.

They showered and dressed. Mac put on his dress uniform, and Lyrian put on formal attire in the form of a Modest but form fitting floor length dress that matched his uniforms blackish blue. She put on a pendant necklace with tribe Helyon’s code of arms as its centerpiece. Mac flew them to the Hall in Vito and they arrived to be waved over to stand next to Darclemus.

“I apologize, I know it has been trying day. I need your eyes and ears Mac. Right now, you are the only human I fully trust. Watch for me tonight my friend. Lyrian, you did not have to come” he whispered, clearly worried about how the two of them were holding up.

“where he goes..” She said simply.