The Nukaribbu Crusade: First Blood Pt. 1

“We’re about to emerge from the hyperlane, Your Majesty.  Ten seconds.”

The Emperor narrowed his eyes on the viewscreen of the Dominion’s bridge at the Captain’s words, looking down to His right for a moment to meet the gaze of Lord Admiral Vaelian Stormheart, sitting in his command throne behind the Captain.  Like the Emperor, the Lord Admiral did not know what to expect - not truly - but held no fear as he met the monarch’s blue eyes.  Readiness was evident, yet nowhere was there doubt or hesitation.  Vaelian knew his duty and would complete it without complaint.

He was Nova Terran.  That was all there was to it.

“Five seconds!”  Called the helm officer, stationed below the captain’s command throne on the first elevated level of the multi-layered bridge.

The Emperor affixed His eyes back to the projected viewscreen, His gene-enhanced vision filtering out the edged holo-projection lines to focus on the faux window intently.  It never ceased to amaze Him that some species actually built windows into their vessels’ bridge, as if creating an easily exploited gap in the ship’s hull - let alone in the heart of its command centre - was somehow a sensible idea.

“Three...!  Two...!  One...!  Reasserting sub-light drive dominance!”

The Emperor’s mag-locked boots kept Him in place as the Dominion erupted into existence on the border of the system codenamed ‘Theatre Primus’, arriving on the bare edge of the massive blue star’s gravity well amid a flood of hyperspace-to-realspace breach discharges, the amalgamated coalition and Grand Imperium warfleet appearing in predetermined formation alongside the flagship.

“Report.”  Barked the Captain.

“Systems nominal, my lord.  No abnormalities in drive core or engine clusters.  Impulse drives are firing in the green at eighty percent.”

“Weapons?”

“Coming online now, sir.  Primary weapon charge has been initiated, and kinetic batteries and plasma turrets are online.  Weapons are warming for protracted combat.”

“Shields?”

“Seventy-Six percent and rising, my lord.  No abnormalities in emitter arrays.”

The Emperor frowned at the same time as the Lord Admiral spoke, the latter leaning forwards in his chair to stare at the display.  “By the throne, what is that?”

Gilgamesh appeared in a flare of red-haloed digitisation, standing next to the Emperor and lifting his hand, zooming in the holoscreen without waiting for permission.  “Scanning...”  The Einherjar declared, scowling at the screen’s highlighted object as if it had personally offended him.  “Complete.  Unknown Stellar Fortress, temporary threat classification ‘Primus’.  Temporary class designation ‘Flytrap’.”

“Specifications?”  The Captain asked without missing a beat.

“High-yield tachyon radiation detected on orbiting satellites.  Multiple plasma batteries and firing tubes for proton torpedo technology.  Advanced energy and kinetic weapons arrays, yield output approximated to be within expected parameters.”  Gilgamesh blinked, and the screen zoomed in further, selecting four strange ‘petal’-like shapes that folded out from the rotating, vertically elongated starbase in cardinal directions.  “Warning: Detecting multiple high-yield tachyon weapons on section designation ‘petal’ primus through quartias.”

“Meaning, Gilgamesh?”  The Lord Admiral interjected.

“Dodge or die.”  The Einherjar replied simply.

“Distribute the knowledge to the fleet.”  Vaelian responded.  “Patch me in to the combined Admiralty ships’ captains.  Secure transmissions and begin a scrambling procedure.  Full electronic warfare countermeasures.  I want to know where to hit, and how hard to hit it.  Full-spectrum sweeps of the fortress’ structure to search for weak-points for incursion are mandated, we need to seize that thing, not blow it away.  Order the Legions Aeternus to prep--”

“Sensors alert!”  Interrupted one of the nearby Officers.  “New contacts pulling around the gas giant at the spinward edge of the system.”

“Display.”  The Captain responded, leaning forwards in his chair.

The Emperor, too, leaned forwards; intrigued despite Himself.  He’d heard much of the Sacred Order of Nukaribbu, and read up on every piece of galactic lore available regarding them.  He had become a passably adept xenobiological aficionado in the days leading up to the rally at Coeus.  The designs of their enemy had adapted, that much He knew given the revelation on the hesitantly named ‘Nukarite’.  What He did not know was how adapted the new bio-material was across their flotillas.

Or how resistant it was to their weapons.

“Admiral B’Torak has dispatched automated reconnaissance drones.”  Gilgamesh reported calmly.  “Images of the enemy fleet will be appearing presently.”

Another feed opened up on the viewscreen, showing the rapidly closing probes and a holo-vid feed from their robust camera designs.  The bridge itself had gone relatively quiet, save for the muted buzz of necessitated non-stop communication between adjutants and sub-officers, and the senior officers, Captain, Lord Admiral, and Emperor all waited with mixed levels of interest to see what it was they were facing.

“Coming into view now!”  Called one of the sensor sub-officers, earning an annoyed glance from Gilgamesh.  He enjoyed being the purveyor of news, be it for woe or weal.  The viewscreen opened with a more pronounced rectangle of focus to zoom in on the Nukaribbu fleet, and on the bridge more than one person bit off a curse.  Nine battleships peeled out from around the Gas Giant, the leading forces in a colossal armada that defied all previous expectations of scale or capability.

“I’m seeing a lot of vessels and hearing no information, ladies and gentlemen.  Report!”

“Nine Battleship-classification vessels detected, power output in range with our own.  Hull material a bio-mineral composite, appears to be emitting a natural disruption field to ward against assaults.  Disruption strength unknown.  Tensile strength unknown.”

“Weapons?”

“Plasma, kinetic, tach-- Experimental class weaponry, tachyon based, range unknown!  Output unknown!”

“I need more information,” the Captain said impatiently.

“Enemy fleet strength approximates nearly equal to approximated total fire capacity of all vessels present in-system.”  Gilgamesh began in a grim voice.  “Hull classifications in keeping with galactic approximation of universal scale application.  I am detecting at least six super-capital classes.”

“What?”  The Captain said, surprised.

The Emperor nodded despite Himself, knowing already the inevitability of it.  The Nukaribbu had been defeated once before; they would not have been willing to allow such a possibility again, at least not in the same capacity it had prior occurred.  They had built an armada to take down the Illarians themselves.

“Gidarean scout vessels away!”

“Pull them back,” The Emperor said firmly.  “Order the fleet to advance, speed dictations to come.  Bring us away from the fortress on a curve, on intercept course for the enemy vessels.  Up-angle Nova Terra thirty degrees and eliminate planar uniformity.  Tri-planar formation.  Place the Caretaker vessels on the ascended plane at three-quarter impulse, twenty-degree down-angle.  Fall back Bahamut to one half impulse at the half-plane marker between us and the Caretakers, wide formation with a fifteen degree up-angle.  Covenant and Kingdom fleets to the lower-plane at twenty degree up-angle, battlegroup divisions at three-quarter impulse.  Bring the Grand Republic vessels forwards to bolster the line, and scatter the Nova Terra and Bahamut corvettes across the fleet.  Destroyers and Battlecruisers are to pursue Hunter-Killer formations and initiate anti-strike, anti-sub-capital sweeping patterns.”

Orders were shouted as The Emperor spoke, and Gilgamesh appeared to be murmuring to himself; likely conversing with the other A.I. spread throughout the coalition fleet; including the Caretakers themselves, with whom he could communicate at the speed of data transfer itself, conveying the monarch’s orders and intent more clearly than words ever could.  The beauty of data.

“Academy First Assault Group to the mid-plane between the centre and lower layers, tight formation, ten-degree up-angle at one half impulse.  Draw the Titan-class vessels forwards and begin long-range bombardment of the enemy line at optimal range.  Once range superiority is lost, they are to fall back to nestle behind the Cruisers and Battleships.  Deploy all strike-craft on swarm patterns.  Defensive formation around super-capitals and engine clusters.  Darexi fighters are to initiate a counter-assault at afterburner range-marker.  Legion vessels to the rear of the fleet, full-planar division wide-spread, one-quarter impulse.  They’re to avoid engagement and shield the rear line from strike-craft.”

“Enemy strength appropriately assessed thanks to Caretaker scanner assets.”

“Give it to me, Gilgamesh.”  The Lord Admiral said without missing a beat.

“One Titan-class vessel, two Supercarrier-class vessels, three Dreadnought-class vessels, nine Battleship-class vessels, twelve Carrier-class vessels, eighteen Battlecruiser-class vessels, thirty-six Cruiser-class vessels, forty-eight Destroyer-class vessels, seventy-two Frigate-class, and one hundred and forty-four Corvette-class.”

“Transmit the data to the fleet.  Shield output to maximum!  Divert secondary and tertiary weapons power to Ragnarök array.  Begin targeting sequence, lock-on to enemy Dreadnought-classifications, prepare scanners to detect emitter fluctuations.  Stabilise the firing core, and initiate analysis of enemy hull-density.  All reserve power to the main weapons, and prep for continuous fire into integrity yellow.  Override code Sierra-Indigo-One-Seven.”

The Bridge was a bustle of activity, not the least of which was the chanting of Omnicoder Code-Priests, standing near critical systems access; gesticulating and praying in binary expressions co-mingled with native nova terran adopted in honour of their patrons.  It was a ritual of awakening, so it had been explained to the Emperor; a means to facilitate maximum power from various ship-systems and ordain the fury of the Machine Spirits against foes and Here-Tech.

“... give praise to the holy Machine Spirit for the Actualisation of the Motive Engine...”

The words faded between beeps and tangibility, and He pushed them to the back of His mind, focusing instead on the encroaching Nukaribbu fleet.  “Gilgamesh,” The Emperor said as they enclosed, speaking so only the Lord Admiral was in earshot.  “Send a message to the Magos-Enginseer.  Tell him I have authorised the Breaking of the Seal.  Authentication ‘Swordbreaker’.”

Gilgamesh did not respond, but The Emperor knew the message had been sent regardless.  He lifted his eyes to the viewscreen and parted His lips, knowing Gilgamesh would open the fleet-wide channel before He even asked.  “Be steady.”  He said in a voice that echoed from projectors within the Dominion as well.  “Be calm.  Be sure of purpose.  This is the end of the beginning, and the beginning of their end.  Do your duty, for hearth and home, and know that if it is death that embraces you, it shall do so with immortality; for you will be remembered.  The Galaxy will know your glory, and it shall be etched on monuments until the heat-death of the cosmos.  Be steady.  Be calm.  Be precise.  I have faith in you.  Only in death does duty end.”

The channel closed after He was done, and there were no cheers; none were needed.

“Optimal range acquired!”  Cried one of the sensor officers.  “Ragnarök array at one hundred and ten percent charge!  Energy coils are approaching danger-yellow.”

“Your Majesty?”  The Lord Admiral said, turning to the Emperor deferentially.

“Gilgamesh,” The Emperor said simply.

“My liege?”  The Einherjar asked, lifting his right hand preemptively, a sword held in his grip.

“Give them our greetings.”

The Einherjar smiled, and the blade transitioned into a rifle.  A moment spent aligning his sights, and the digitised A.I. depressed the holographic trigger.  The Dominion shook as if struck, vibrating with the force of discharging energy, and the sonorous roar of emitting power beyond normal capability.  On the view-screen, a blazing red beam soared from between the luminescent coils of the Flagship’s twin-pronged bow section in a lance of power that lit up the hulls of vessels kilometres distant in the fleet.  In tandem came two more, dispatched by the other two titans present in the combined fleet.

Together the beams coruscated as they lanced out across space at the speed of light, slamming one after the other into the massive hull of the central dreadnought embedded within the Nukaribbu fleet, incinerating several corvettes, frigates, and destroyers in their paths.  The emissions of concentrated power lasted for perhaps ten seconds in total, fired and maintained by the Titan flagships, before a distant eruption lit up the bridge’s holoscreen.  Like the flowers to which they had been deprecatingly correlated, the Nukaribbu’s dreadnought bloomed; clouds of light that erupted like blossoming lillies across its viridian hull.

The vessel listed, belching chromatic death as its reactors went critical and weapons systems overloaded.  A moment later its spine snapped under the strain of the three-pronged assault, a ball of overload-induced zero-point destruction bisecting the ship at its mid-point in an explosive shockwave that consumed two cruisers nearby, and rocked the rest of the fleet outwards in a staggered reaction to the force.

“Beginning charging process!”

“Vanguard forces in range, Lord Admiral!”  Called the Sensors officer.

“Fire at will,” The Emperor said by tradition.

“Fire at will, staggered targets!”

The fleet’s tri-planar formation released fire on command a moment later, the front lines exploding with a withering combination of kinetic, torpedo, and energy-based weapons that filled the void with effervescent flashes of light and blooming explosions that filled the viewscreen in a tidal current of intercepted ordnance.  Fire bloomed across the hulls of the Nukaribbu’s front line; signs of wounded vessels and casualties sustained, but not enough to halt their advanced.

Not even close to enough.

“Nukaribbu forces are assuming a mirror tri-planar formation!  The enemy appears to be focusing their offensive power on the mid and upper planes!”

“Consolidate Bahamut into Battlegroups Primus, Secundus, and Trium.  Have them increase to three-quarter impulse and take on a moderated spread.  Inform Lord Admiral Ironside he is to ascend his battleships into the Caretaker formation to redoubt their line.  Destroyers and Battlecruisers to initiate Hunter-Killer protocols.  Divert redundant strike-craft to the upper plane for swarm coverage, and counter-strike protocols.”

“Afterburn range achieved!  Darexi drone fighters are away and closing at full-burn.”

“Time to medium-range engagement?”

“Five minutes at current velocity, Lord Admiral.”

“Good.  The Nukaribbu will expect us to trade fire at range like other star nations.  They will be woefully surprised.  Actualise broadside protocols!  All reserve power to engines and reactivate secondary and tertiary weapons.  Prepare for ship-to-ship combat!”

“Ragnarök array at seventy-percent charge, my lord.”

“Time ‘til we lose optimal range?”

“Less than a minute, but the charge isn’t--!”

“Fire,” the Emperor interjected before Vaelian could respond, turning His gaze to Gilgamesh.  “Tell them.”

The Dominion shook once more as its energy acceleration coils kicked into life, dispensing a hull-rattling titan-beam that lanced across the ever-closing gap between the fleets.  This one was far less dense, and less impressive: A sleek crimson arrow when compared to the driving lance of the past attack.  This time it impacted one of the Nukaribbu’s colossal Supercarriers; rippling against its massive, shielded hull.

“Enemy shields at thirty-six percent, Lord Admiral.  We didn’t--...”

Another beam impacted the Supercarrier a moment later, sourced from the Caretaker Titan, which had - perhaps implausibly - changed hull orientation with an impulse burst while maintaining its directional momentum through space, firing its main gun at an angle which would have, indeed should have, been untenable.  No crew would have been able to survive the gravitational forces in play with the velocity and mass of the ship shifting so rapidly.

Then, perhaps, it dawned on the crew.

The Caretakers weren’t organics.

A third lance of energy joined the others a moment later, and pierced the Supercarrier’s diffused shields like a streaking arrow, eviscerating its internals in an eruption of blue-green chemical fire that gluttonously sucked at the void of space.  The Supercarrier was not slain; yet its wound was grievous, sending the massive vessel listing dangerously as its engines struggled to stabilise its colossal mass with smaller explosions dancing along its bloodied hull.

“Now it begins,” The Emperor said.  “The losses.”