Glitter in the dark

"Warp bubble destabilizing in ten seconds..."
An elderly navy captain stood on the bridge of the mighty cruiser, staring into the viewscreen before him. The warped reality of slipspace writhed around the bulky ship as it traversed the wholly illogical realm. In an instant, the twisted visions outside snapped into clairty. Stars, mottled colors of a nebula, the swirling arms of a distant galaxy. It all came into view suddenly as the ship dropped into reality. Millions of kilometers away, a dying star blazed bright red. In a few hundred years, it would expand to its maximum size, then collapse into itself briefly, before detonating violently, cleansing everything in a quarter lightyear around it.

As sooon as the ship hit normal space, the captain was barking orders to his bridge crew. He orders gravidar scans of the system, probes be sent out, and weapon arrays brought online. Ever since half a dozen fringe colonies dropped all contact, the fleet has been on alert. Midway stations reported strange electromagnetic signatures heading for this system, and this cruiser was the ship within response range.

As the ship moved closer to the center of the system, the gravidar began pinging, signalling non-registered contact. A probe approaches the contact, around the curve of a small planetoid. Upon making visual contact, the gravidar ping was registered as an old freight ship, an ancient model, in service for over a hundred years. The strange thing about it was not the fact that the ship was a wreck, more so that there was hundreds of small craft-for lack of a better term-swarming around it. They picked apart hull and engines, blasting plating away with bursts of small lasers. The craft grasped debris with a number of tentacle-like appendages, hauling their cargo away, towards one of the larger planets.

Murmurs echo across the bridge. The captain stands in stunned silence at the display, watching the glittering of lasers across the void of space, picking apart the helpless freighter. He turns to his comms officer "Ping them once, on a general channel..." The comms officer turns to him "Sir? We have no record of this kind of ship anywhere in our database. We're not sure if they're ho-" The captain silences him "Do it, or I'll have you in the brig, Lieutenant!"

The comms Lieutenant flinches at the threat, and sighs dejectedly. He opens a communications channel and sends out a greeting hail. All at once, the small craft cease what they're doing and peel away from the freighter, now mere skeletal superstructure and a few internal components. The small craft dart across the void of space towards the larger planet. The comms officer turns to the captain "No reply, sir."

The navigations officer calls out "Sir! Large signature on Gravidar. It's...My gods. It's huge! Tonnage estiimated to be....Sixty thousand tons...Gods bless...It's the size of a small moon! Rounding the planet now!" On the viewscreen, a huge hulk crests the planet. It was built of twisted, black metal. It appeared to be be hemorrhaging black smoke as it glided through the void of space. From the crevaces and gaps of the massive vessel swarmed hundreds more small craft, which form several swarming tendrils, all reaching out towards the lone cruiser.

The captain bellows out "Scramble all fighter wings! All guns, I want firing solutions. Maximum charge, flak rounds! Navigation, bring us hard to port. Give these bastards a full broadside! Tactical, prime starboard missile tubes one through twenty-one. Fire at will!" The captain grits his teeth, staring hard at the viewsceen. The ship shudders hard as sixty-three missiles leave the three-barreled launch tubes, streaking across the black sky towards the swarm of targets. The turrets and broadside gun ports all let loose with their mass accelerators, flinging explosive fragmentaton rounds down range at a fraction of the speed of light. Single-man fighters screamed out from the fore launch tubes, half a dozen at a time. They bank off to engage the numerous enemy presented before them.

The swarm seemed all-together unphased by the onslaught. Dozens at a time were blasted away by the onslaught of incoming fire. Missiles flared in the night, and flak shells puffed among their numbers, blasting them to scrap. The enemy cared not. The fighters closed range and unleashed their own missiles into the fray, before banking off to engage at gun range. Small splinters of the tentril of drones break away to engage the fighters. The craft bite at the fighters with their lasers, which cause the fighters light shields to flare brightly. A second lance of laser fire causes the shields to overload. The drones waste no time latching themselves to the fighters, tearing away engines and trusters with their tentacles. One after another, the fighters were whittled away, but not before taking out at least a dozen of the drones themselves. Despite the seemingly heavy losses, the swarm of craft kept coming.

At one thousand kilometers, the swarm broke away to swarm around the cruiser. Point defense weapons came to life, spinning on their axis to draw a bead on target before unleashing metal hell upon them at a thousand rounds per minute. The larger gun batteries fall silent for a moment while their coils recharged. The larger ship stayed in the distance, allowing the drones to do the work.

The old captain grips his console firmly, his knuckles going white. He barks out further orders "Tactical, spin up the Gustaf. Let's give that bastard a good hard knock!" Within the ship, one could feel a static buildup as the massive super capactors collected their charge. Lights dimmed a bit, and the rings around the barrel of the spine mounted super mass accelerator began to glow slightly. The tactical officer calls out "Charge at ninety-five...six..seven...eight...nine...One hundered percent charge, sir. Ready to fire!"

Across the void, the twisted, almost incomprehensible vessel sat, and watched, unmoving. Its small craft were picking away at the cruisers shielding, but barely inflicting any sort of damage to it. There were still a dozen fighters wearing away at their numbers, and the close in weapons systems were chunking down the remainder quickly. It seemed to be a fuitile attack.

The captain feels his lips twist into a grin "Brace for firing" The crew grips what ever they could. The captain slowly raises a hand and barely utters "Fire..." The ship shudders as the enormous electromagnets running the length of the ship all fire in sequence, sending out the massive, building sized ferro-tungsten slug screaming out of the barrel. Whisps of ionized plasma flare out from the mass accelerator as the glowing hunk of metal closes the distance almost instantly. It hammers into the side of the twisted nightmare of a craft, sending it spinning to port rapidly, spewing black smoke every which way.

"Tactical, report!" The captain looks upon the ensign with eager eyes. He seemed five years younger in the excitement of combat. He was a young man once again. The tactical officer clears his throat "Good hit on target, but unable to tell the effect. Stand by..." His fingers fly across the consoles keyboard. He chewed his lip out of habit, eyes flicking across half a dozen screens "Sir...No effect on target..."

The massive craft rights itself and orients itself towards the cruiser. Several twisted bits of metal retract and fold away, twisting into itself to reveal what looked like a large eye. The new feature began to glow a bright blue.

"Sir, we're detecting a massive spike in energy from the enemy craft. It's charging weapons!" "Navigations, hard to starboard, engines full" "Aye sir, answering hard starboard, engines full" The cruiser flares to life, pushing through the cloud of debris and enemy drones. Their numbers were critically low now, only a few dozen remaining. They cease their attack, retreating from the attack to return to the larger craft. As soon as they arrive, the glowing blue eye begins crackling with energy, glowing brighter than any star in the sky.

"Brace for impact!" The eye lances out, a beam of blue light slicing through the inky blackness of space, burning into the cruisers port shields, causing them to flare a bright red. The beam holds for several seconds, the cruiser shuddering violently. Finally it stops, the eye glowing bright red from the heat generated by the weapon. The captain calls out to his crew "Ready another Gustaf shell. Engineering, give me all you have from the reactor!" The young engineering officer nods "Bringing reactor to one-two-five percent power." "Tactical, status?" "Capacitors charged in ten, sir!" The captain continues his white knuckle grip on the console "Bring us about, fire when ready!"

The cruiser fires its massive maneuvering thrusters, bringing the nose of the ship about. The capacitor rings on the gun glow once more, preparing to unleash burning hell upon its target. An instant later, the ship shudders once more, flinging out its deadly payload across space towards the enemy craft.

It never arrived. The projectile was met as soon as it launched by another burst of energy. This blast incinerated the slug in an instant. The lance of blue light cut across the crusiers shields, then punches through, boiling away armor plating and gun batteries from the hull of the cruiser. The vessel rocks hard, jostling the bridge crew around "Damage report!" The tactical officer calls back "Decks nine, ten, and eleven depressurized. Sealing them off" "Good. Navigation, Heading two-nine-zero. Full ahead." "Sir, that'll bring us right by them" "I know son, do it!" The engines flare brightly, forcing the ship through the midnight ink towards the malicious craft.

"Arm all missile tubes. All of them. All guns load cracker rounds. Give this bastard everything we have! Fire on my mark..." The captain re-adjusts his cap and watches as the billowing black smoke and twisted metal grow in the view screen. Navigation calls out "Sir, One thousand kilometers and closing" "Bring us in closer. This is personal" The distance ticks away quickly. At five hundred kilometers, the captains voice fills the bridge once more "All weapons, fire at will!"

The void between the two ships is filled with flaming death all at once. A thousand missiles burn out from their tubes, and tens of thousands of railgun rounds glitter as they traverse the distance to the target. The missiles blast away at the ship. and the railgun rounds slam into its armor. Finally, chunks of metal begin to give. Spires of black steel boil away under the combined onslaught, plains of titanium vaporize. The cruiser banks around and spins on its axis "Give them another serving, Gustaf!" The ship shudders a third time, the round finding its mark, hammering into the hull of the twisted ship, sending it spinning again.

"Tactical?" The captain could not tear his eyes from the rotating hulk "No sign of activity, sir...I think we got it." Cheers erupt from the bridge crew for a moment, before the captan silences them "No time for celebration just yet..." Just as he spoke, the massive vessel sprang to life, the massive spires of metal twisting and contorting. The craft puts itself into motion, closing the gap to the cruiser frighteningly fast. It clamps down on the hull of the cruiser, shorting its shields out instantly. The massive jaw-like appendages begin crushing armor and superstructure. Hulls crumple and atmosphere rushes into space. Alarms blare as guns turn to fire frantically, to no effect.

"Navigations, full forwards full! Get us out of here!" "No dice sir. He's got us hard!" "Sir, we're losing structural integrity. We've lost decks five through thirteen!" The captain grits his teeth "Fire everything we have left! Target those jaws!" The surviving guns all answer, spilling out what munitions they can, blasting away at the crushing jaws, to no avail. The oppressive beast of a craft bit down harder, threatening to split the cruiser in half. A munitions magazine detonates, blasting out a wide section of hull. The ship trembles violently, systems redlining across the board.

The captain closes his eyes "All hands, prepare to enact Berlin protocol. It's been a pleasure serving with you all..." Deep within the hull of the ship, the reactor begins to redline well beyond operational capacity, building pressure and heat. In a few seconds, the reaction chamber reaches critical levels. Less than a million kilometers from the planet, a second son is born, cleansing both ships from the face of the universe in purifying flames. The bright burst flaring out...glittering in the dark....