Part 5: Returning Home

Seventeenth Year of the Nomads

Eight Hundred and Forty Seventh Year After the Battle of the Sol System

Kokko’Liekki Laiska’Vanha’Verta was beyond angry, though he did his utmost to hide it. The Politicians were panicky enough, demanding that each and every system in the Empire receive its own carrier to counter the Fanatical Purifier raids. While it was true that they had fallen back every time CV Viimein’Laiva’Elossa and her battle group had showed up, Laiska’Vanha’Verta knew it was not because they feared the Fleet of the Empire. Far, far from it. He knew that the humans were fighting for information, looking to inflict as much damage as they could with as little risk as they could manage.

The reason was obvious to any sapient with half a brain not clouded by blind panic! The Human fleet may have as many as twelve capital ships and a titan, but more than three quarters of that fleet was support ships of one sort or another, including the titan itself. They were undoubtedly armed in some fashion, but they were by no means combat ships.

But the Politicians, and their Bureaucrat masters, did not see that. All they saw was report after report of the Fanatical Purifier fleet withdrawing after no more than a single exchange of fire with a single Empire CV and its accompanying battle group. From there, they extrapolated that stationing a single CV battle group in each of the seventeen inhabited systems of the Empire would shield those systems against raids.

Laiska’Vanha’Verta had spoken himself horse at meeting after meeting, in front of endless and pointless committee meetings. The Emperor sat aloof from the whole mess, the Heir worked feverishly behind the scenes making the Fleet dance to the Bureaucrats tune. And the whole time, Laiska’Vanha’Verta and his crews grew more and more disillusioned with the whole mess. His dissatisfaction, though never spoken of, had not gone unnoticed.

So here Laiska’Vanha’Verta was, back in the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system, overseeing a set of mining operations and being overseen in a distant sort of way, by a Bureaucrat. He hardly recognised the place. All of the orbital debris had been reclaimed and shipped off to be made into other things. The habitation domes had been erased from existence, and the massive shipyard had been remade into an orbital housing complex and smelter.

The Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system was just small enough for CV Viimein’Laiva’Elossa’s scopes to cover, so she was forced to sit stationary above the primary star of the system. Her battle group was dispersed about the worlds, plugging holes in the scope coverage and presenting a show of force. Laiska’Vanha’Verta had wanted to keep his battle group concentrated and mobile, sweeping about the system on irregular patrols, but the damned overseer had overruled him, citing ‘fuel wastage.’ Laiska’Vanha’Verta felt like a target on a range, just waiting for the meteor cannon rounds to come streaking in from out of the void.

In the silent depths of his mind, Laiska’Vanha’Verta seriously debated attempting to talk to the humans instead of simply shooting on sight.

Admiral Supesu stood on the bridge and stared out across the TRAPPIST-1 system. So much had changed, and it saddened her. Her birthworld was gone, its domes shattered, excavated, and carted off to be recast into other buildings, other ships without a sings damn given for the people who had lived and died on its surface. The shipyard still existed, but now it was also a massive refinery, chewing away at the rock of TRAPPIST-1d and -1e.

“Admiral, CIC. Twisted carrier battle group spotted in system. They appear to be sitting at anchor. Signal signatures match known Twisted ships in the database, specifically the ones from the orbital refinery two years ago. Out.”

“Communications, Admiral. Send the taunt if you please. let us get the Twisted formed up away from the shipyard.”

“Admiral, Communications. Taunt sent.”

“Guns, Admiral. Stand by to execute Skyfall on my command. Target is the shipyard and refinery station.”

“Admiral, Guns. Skyfall standing by, target is TRAPPIST-1 shipyard.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Cryer. Incoming human message. Empire common, text only, machine translation. Message begins: ‘You are a stranger, I am a native.’[3] Message Ends.”

“Cryer, stand by to transmit text message from my terminal. General broadcast on the bearing that human message came from, no scramble, no encryption.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Cryer. By your will.”

“Admiral, Communications. Incoming transmission. Text only, human standard. Message begins: ‘I am going to try to raise my voice, not to strike fear, but offer a choice. So we've come this far. This is where it starts. It's a wake up call for what is true. I'm so betrayed by those too afraid to fight for the goals we pursue.’[4] Message ends.”

Admiral Supesu sat back in the command chair, unsure of her purpose for the first time. It was a fever dream to imagine that the Twisted Empire was fragmented. But perhaps, just perhaps, there were cracks in the foundations.

“Guns, Admiral. Continue plotting for the Skyfall strike, but hold fire until I give the firing authorization or the Nomad Fleet is fired upon.”

“Admiral, Guns. Wilco.”

“Communications, Admiral. Warm up the human-Twisted translator. Latest stable version please. We have a message to send.”

Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku, overseer of the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system, paced furiously. He knew the Fanatical Purifiers were in the system, no scope could miss the energy spike of a ship reverting to STL speeds, but he had no idea where they were. Moreover, his carrier battle group was just sitting there, doing nothing. They had formed up on the carrier, and then… nothing. No sailing forth to drive of the Fanatical Purifiers, no firing of meteor cannons, not even raising battle screens or launching light attack craft.

Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku was worried. If he lost the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system, or even if its infrastructure took significant damage, then the Empire would suffer economic hardship on a scale it had never experienced before. Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku had seen the reports, knew just how thin the Empire’s budgets really were. He wanted to know what was going on. More precisely, Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku wanted to be asured that the commander of his carrier battle group, whomever the Fleet brained sapient was, had the situation under control.

Finally, Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku had had enough of wondering and waiting.

“Cryer, get me a priority missive channel to the carrier. I want to speak with the commanding officer of the carrier battle group.”

“By your will sir.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Cryer. Incoming priority missive chanel from the shipyard. Overseer wants to jog your elbow if I had to guess.”

“Cryer, Kokko’Liekki. Dump him to the terminal in my sleeping quarters. If he wants to ask questions, he can leave a message and I’ll get back to him… eventually.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Cryer.Done. The Overseer is now talking to your message box. Incoming transmission from the human titan. Text only, Empire common, machine translation. Message begins: ‘We remember the past, the battle of the yellow star system. Do you?’ Message ends.”

“Cryer, Kokko’Liekki. Stand by for a text reply, I am composing it now.”

Overseer Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku was regarded as marginally competent by his superiors, although well connected enough to avoid demotion or termination. So he was given an important post that was predicted to be stress inducing enough that Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku would either snap under the strain or quit. Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku’s mind snapped under the stress. In more peaceful times he would have been quietly institutionalized and removed. Unfortunately for the Empire, this was not a peaceful time.

Typerys’Kielen’Sanahaku slammed his grasper on his desk in rage. The priority missive channel had gone through to a message box. The commander of his carrier battle group was not even talking to his superior! The damned Fleet was betraying the Empire. But he would put a stop to that, by force if he must!

“Cryer, forget the missive channel to the damned traitors, get me a link to weapons control.”

“Admiral, Tracking. The shipyard just fired mass drivers against the carrier.”

“Guns, Admiral. Execute Skyfall on the shipyard. Communications, Admiral. What is the latest from the Twisted fleet?”

“Admiral, Communications. Message interrupted mid transmission, probably by the carrier rolling ship against incoming fire.”

“Very well Communications, stand by for text message to the Twisted carrier. I’ll have it typed in by the time you are ready to transmit.”

“Kokko’Liekki, BIC. Shipyard has fired meteor cannons at up. Designating weapons platforms as targets now, flagging civilian housing and life support as non targets.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Cryer. Incoming human transmission. Text only, Empire common, machine translation. Message begins: ‘A male learns who is there for it when the shine fades and the walls fall. Because out of that debris, what stands can only be that which is true.’[5] Message ends.”

“Cryer, heard and understood. Weapons, engage the shipyard, fire at will. Hunam fleet is to be considered not hostile at this time.”

“Kokko’Liekki, Weapons. Engaging betrayers, ignoring human ships.”

Fire Plan Skyfall was ridiculously simple. Ships could change their vector, and thus dodge mass driver rounds at extreme ranges. This is particularly true when the ship in question can see the mass driver round being fired and has an accurate prediction of the projectile’s flight path. Military orbital installations such as shipyards, on the other hand, were far less maneuverable. As a result they tended to be lavishly equipped with defensive screens and point defense batteries.

But as powerful as those defenses were, they still had their weaknesses. Empire screens are vulnerable to concentrated mass driver fire, and point defense needs to see the incoming projectiles to be able to target them. Skyfall called for all mass driver equipped ships in the Nomad Fleet to fire on a single target from beyond detection range.

When the Solar Wind, twenty four Hunter class frigates, twelve Stalker class destroyers, and four hundred and thirty two strike craft fired a time on target mass driver salvo from beyond the Empire shipyard’s sensor range, the defenses were about as much use as an umbrella in a tornado. A total of six hundred and fifty mass driver rounds, the smallest of them twenty kilogram slugs from the strike craft, the largest one thousand two hundred and twenty five kilograms from the Solar Wind, smashed into the Empire space station within a two millisecond time frame.

Deprived of pre combat in depth reconnaissance, the Nomad Fleet had chosen to target the drydocks and material refineries. Screen generators either blew out or went into emergency shutdown in the targeted sections of the shipyard. The drydocks were worked over by the lighter mass driver rounds, their comparatively delicate construction equipment mangled and torn by dozens of projectiles and high velocity shrapnel impacts. The refineries choked on the Solar Wind’s heavy mass driver rounds, spilling molten material into airless passageways. Secondary explosions and sympathetic incendiary detonations started chain reactions as chemical tanks ruptured, spilling corrosive liquids and reactive gasses into an already hellish environment.

Kokko’Liekki Laiska’Vanha’Verta felt chills ruin down his spine as the human meteor cannon rounds ravages the shipyard. His own scopes hadn't even seen the launch transients, despite knowing the general bearing of the human fleet. They clearly lacked either the precision or the scope reach to target the defense weapons emplacements directly, but that single salvo had already done far more damage and caused far more casualties than the Viimein’Laiva’Elossa battle group could do in ten salvos. Even if negotiations did break down in the wake of the fighting, the Empire would be seriously crippled.

Laiska’Vanha’Verta was even more shaken that he did not consider this damage to be a bad thing. After all, the Empire had already betrayed him, had it not? So what did a little breakage matter when it was visited upon his foes?