Elysian: A Sunrider Tale

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Chapter 2: Disaster at Farport

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"Enemy ships coming within range of our main turrets." Came the voice of one of the bridge crew gunnery officers. Valerius, standing near the fore of the bridge, now wearing his officer’s cap, hands behind his back, staring out across the battle, seemed unmoved by the news. But he was relieved to finally be in range. He had been part of the northern pincer attack, supposed to come up behind the pitiful Alliance fleet defending Farport and crush them. But the opponent’s surge forward had meant they overshot their target, and were delayed in joining the battle. Valerius had advised the Admiral of the northern pincer fleet to alter course to adjust. But he had been told that the plan of Veniczar Cullen was not to be altered. Such frustrating inflexibility had been the doom of fleets far larger than this one. The Elysian was by far the largest ship amongst this lighter flotilla. He had specifically volunteered for the position to get into combat as soon as possible and put the Elysian through her paces. It was disappointing that things had not gone as planned.

His crew was ready for a fight, as was he. The uniforms of his men were, by design, resistant to both extreme heat and lethal chemicals. A few little fastening rings by the wrists and ankles made the protective under layer coveralls each crewman wore sealed against the open air. Meanwhile almost every man amongst them had donned their protective full face hoods and gas masks. They were less concerned about chemical attacks, more concerned by chemical leaks, smoke inhalation and fire. Valerius was, for the moment, not wearing his hood and mask but by his side hung a heavy cloth bag which held the protective gear, ready to apply at a moment’s notice.

But now, at long last, they were here. Standing in the stark, functional bridge of the Elysian that was made of the same off white metal as her hull Valerius had to admit, whoever was in Command of the Alliance Fleet was playing a good game. The dogged swine had dragged this battle out for far longer than it should have been and extracted a far higher cost than PACT was expecting to pay. They were even pressing the command group and hard! This commander had quite some gall.

But despite their fine performance some battles were just weighted too heavily against you. Now it was time for Farport to finally fall
"Open fire!” Order Valerius loud and clear across the bridge. “Target the closest enemy vessels first. Deploy all ryders, task them to ship protection duty." Moments after his command was given the four main turrets of the Elysian opened up in a terrifying display. Momentary tongues of blinding white fire erupted from the barrels which were soon replaced by bellowing yellow and black clouds of flame that gently yet rapidly faded away into the void. The ship itself shook with the reverberations of the mighty guns and the low boom could be faintly heard echoing down the corridors. Had space contained air the shockwaves from such a blast would have shattered even reinforced class and rendered men deaf.

Eight shells hurtled towards the foe, and though Valarius could not trace them with his eye due to their sheer speed he could see the effect of any impacts. One shot seemed to tear headlong right into the engine compartment of an Alliance cruiser, causing the ship to twist alarmingly with the transfer of momentum in a vacuum. A huge hole blew open in her upper decks which trailed a startling amount of fire and smoke whilst her engines stuttered and fell into black stillness. The ship seemed to lose almost all power as it floated idly in the void, gently veering off course, all bar one or two assault guns falling silent. Soon a secondary explosion erupting from her side and sending spinning metal shards into the blackness signalled that an out of control fire had begun within, and was now spreading to other vital systems, consuming the ship from within.

A second grazing shot hit a separate cruiser, ripping down her port side armour but not piercing right into the heart of the vessel. It sent great chunks of green and white armour hurtling about in all directions and left exposed any number of systems and vital conduits, one of which began leaking fluid into space. Even a stray shot could set that stream alight, but the ship kept going.

Meanwhile the armoured panelling over the Elysian’s launch bay slid back and fifteen ryders were catapulted out into the fray. These off white craft matched their mothership in colour, but were closer to conventional PACT craft in shape and design. This was because they were based on pre existing PACT designs and later modified by Omega engineers. The first three into the void seemed to share the same basic body as the standard PACT ryder, but mounted to their left arm was a heavily reinforced shield behind which, mounted along the length of the left forearm, was a standard assault gun. Meanwhile in the right hand sat a worryingly long and savage looking lance whilst collapsed into the right arm was a straight edged sword should the lance prove inappropriate.

Behind them came six further ryders, again of the same basic shape. But they seemed to have no weapons built into their arms. Instead they held, in a manner similar to a rifle, a large weapon with two distinct barrels, one of which was a large calibre assault gun the other of which was a medium energy laser. Strapped almost crudely to the outside of the ryder were various ammunition and power packs as clearly the ryder design had not allowed for the Omega engineers to build these reserves into the ryder itself. A keen eye could see a small missile pod built into the left shoulder, but only very small. What this ship did seem to have though was an unusually large amount of thrusters, just as her lancer counterparts did.

The next three ryders were barely altered PACT bombers just as the three behind them were almost identical to PACT support ryders. The only alterations made to these craft were purely internal and to the outside viewer the only immediate difference was their white paint.

It would take a few moments for new shells to be loaded and aims adjusted and it was in this pause that concerning news was delivered.
"Captain!" Called up his lead communications officer listening intently at his headphones, a look of mild worry on his face barely visible beneath his mask. "Venizcar Cullen's ship is reporting that it is heavily engaged. The command group has taken substantial casualties!" This was the price Veniczar Cullen was paying for his hubris, this was the cost his fleet was paying. Valerius had known not to underestimate these defenders, to hit them instead with a sensible, conservative strategy. But no longer being a flag officer his voice counted for little. Now men were dying because of that porcine Imperial defector's stupidity.

But Valerius would not let his disappointment or frustration stop him from doing what was needed.
"Identify the vessel posing the greatest threat to the Veniczar's flag ship." He enquired in firm but calm tones. He did not have to wait long for a reply.
"Sir, it's the Sunrider!" Valerius was almost pleased to see that it was the Sunrider leading the effort against them. She was a fine ship, packed with some of the best design and engineering innovations around, some of which had been blatantly copied or outright stolen by the designers of the Elysian. But Valerius would not allow his satisfaction at seeing this ship to stand in the way of doing whatever was necessary to secure victory.

There was no doubt in his mind, no capital ship out there could go toe to toe with the Elysian’s kinetic weaponry. All he needed to do was bring it to bear and the Sunrider would fall like all the rest. Though he wanted it done quickly and before the Sunrider could turn, he did not want to have to face the Vanguard unless he absolutely had to, and in all honesty he did not want to face it even then.
"Are the SLMKCs in range?" he asked.
"Negative sir, we are still too far out. Rear elements of their fleet only." A disappointment but an expected one.
"Does the Defiance gun have a shot?" He pressed, keen to find a way to smite the Sunrider.
"No sir, too many vessels, friend and foe, are too close. They keep passing in front of the shot." Again a frustration, but only a mild one.
"Relay a signal to friendly vessels in the area to clear a vector for the shot." Ordered Valerius
"It will take some time for them to alter their positions and formations." Did this junior crewman think he was addressing some wet behind the ears cadet? Valerius well knew it would take time, but it was what they had. Still, there was no time to lecture crew in the heat of battle. So instead he simply said curtly and without even turning.
"Send the signal." Letting his tone convey his dissatisfaction. His subordinate seemed to pick up on it and only replied.
"Aye aye sir." Before carrying out the order.

But Valerius did not want to let the Defiance cannon sit idle when it could be used to help the struggling Cullen, even if he did deserve to fall for his reckless incompetence in this battle.
"Identify the most threatening enemy ship to the Veniczar that the Defiance does have a shot at." There were a few moments in which his Defiance gunnery bridge officer swiftly ran through calculations and targets. In those few moments the SLMKC turrets opened up again sending more terrifying flame from their barrels and delivering colossal shells at unbelievable speeds toward the foe. The cruiser which had already had her side ripped open took another hit to her now vulnerable flank, a great cloud of flame erupted out of her already damaged flank whilst a tiny tongue of orange fire lanced out of her far side, suggesting that the explosion had gone right the way across the ship and punched back out into space. The ship did not explode but it started to trail smoke from both sides. Remarkably her engines stayed functional and she kept ploughing forward, her course locked as presumably her steering mechanism had been knocked out. Even more astoundingly her laser bank still fired, straight ahead into the command group. The ship was doomed, any fool could see that. But if she was going down she was going down fighting.

Another SLMKC shell tore into what seemed to be a mercenary mining frigate. The ensuing blast appeared to make the whole ship jump slightly as her spine broke. A persistent column of flame tore straight up out of her top decks as her pool of fuel burned away in mere seconds when it should have lasted months, the jet got wider and wider as the ship slowly bent into two pieces before an explosion in one of her ammunition dumps tore the last tenuous connection between the two halves and sent both flying off in opposite directions, spilling fluids and crew alike into space.

It was then that the Defiance gun officer managed to identify a suitable and safe target.
"Alliance cruiser, port side of enemy formation."
"Bring the cannon into position. Make ready to fire. Fire on my Command." Declared Valerius, his voice still even. The whole ship shifted slightly as the axial gun was brought to bear, even in the vacuum of space there was a feeling of weight to the whole affair as this terrifying instrument of destruction was shifted into place. Shortly afterwards the Defiance officer reported.
"Rails charged, gaseous accelerators deployed, standard two stage round loaded, firing bay doors open, all safety and readiness markers show green! Target locked. Ready to fire."
"Fire!" Barked out Valerius, and a split second later the mighty gun let forth her shot. Tiny trails of lightning seemed to leap out of the exposed end of the cannon as the great electrical build up was discharged and a small flash of ghostly blue fire spat fourth from the mouth of the barrel as accelerant gasses and oils ignited safely by the huge concentration of energy discharged into space. The shot it self-tore forward into the void at speeds imperceptible to the human eye. It’s only trace the almost ephemeral display at the end of the Elysian's barrel, and the effect on the unfortunate target.

The two stage round was a standard design, the same principle was used in the standard ammunition of her kinetic cannons. A heavily reinforced armour piercing tip, coated in armour corroding chemicals, would smash through the layers of armour plating that an enemy capitol ship possessed. Once through the armour and inside the ship itself the second stage of the shell would detonate in a powerful explosion, tearing into the vulnerable internal systems. The second stage of smaller two stage shells were generally packed simply with the latest high explosives.

But larger shells, such as all those housed on the Elysian, had a wide array of nasty surprises packed into her second stage. As well as an unnerving amount of high explosives, corrosive shrapnel shards were contained in the mix made of the same armour piecing material as the nose of the shell. Whilst lacking the power of the main shot some internal systems occasionally had their own armoured housing that might be able to stand up to high ex. This was designed to counter that. Plus, any crew caught by it would have a very bad day. A small EMP device was also housed towards the rear of the shell, triggered by the explosion. It was too small to shut down ships shields or weapons. But the hope was it might knock out some local communication lines, door control mechanisms, fire suppressant systems and the like to hamper the response of any emergency teams. It also contained incendiary elements to help set the ship aflame even more than high ex could do on its own and shards of white phosphorous, to pack the area with choking smoke and cause further chaos. Should the ship survive the initial explosion, it would have a hell of a time getting the damage under control.

But in this case the Alliance cruiser would never have a chance to get the damage under control, a ship that size stood no chance against a Defiance. To bulky to evade it, too small to stand a chance of living to see tomorrow. Instead there would simply be a glittering display of rent metal and torn armour as shards of Alliance plating cartwheeled into space in a glittering emerald display at the point where the round hit. Followed almost instantly by a huge explosion that ripped the cruiser apart from the inside, tearing entire decks away from one another before breaking them apart into little more than splinters and casting them into the cold void of space. There were no survivors. No one could survive that.

But Cullen was still struggling and Valerius was doing his best to bring his main guns within range and relieve him. But it seemed his was not the only ship taking action. From his position at the front of the bridge, gazing out across the battle and giving orders to the crew behind him without so much as turning around, he could see another vessel move. Even all this distance away the titanic bulk of Legion was readily perceptible. Perhaps at last she was coming in to support Cullen and take command away from that vainglorious fool.

But any sense of relief Valerius may have felt was short lived when he saw the dull red glow of Legion’s main cannon powering up. Surely it was not about to fire, not when friend and foe were so closely intertwined. It would have been impossible for such an imprecise weapon not to strike PACT ships if she fired in close proximity to the command group. So it was with a sense of horror that he watched precisely what he feared unfold. That terrible stream of red death may have struck down more Alliance ships than it did its own. But there are somethings that are not done. A commander does not fire so recklessly on his own ships! The mood across the whole of the bridge changed, a dull, cold horror seemed to descend upon them all as they witnessed the display. Crewmen glanced at each other, the look in their eyes silently asking what stopped the Legion from doing the same to Omega ships, if it was willing to do it to its own vessels? The answer was nothing.

But If Arcadius wanted to win the battle that was a poor move, he had just sucked the morale out of the whole fleet. But Valerius would not allow the minds of his comrades to focus on this grim spectre. Ceasing the moment he called out loud and clear.
“Keep the engines ahead full and keep the ryders close.” It was a pointless order, they were already doing precisely that. But he needed to say something to jolt their minds away from the terrifying prospect of intentional friendly fire.

Despite this display the trap was closing, the battle was won. It had been far more costly than it should have been, but the day was theirs.
"Sir, the Veniczar's ship is coming under renewed fire!" Called out the same communications officer. The SLMKC's were still out of range of the Alliance forward elements, so they had little choice but to rely on the Defiance.
"As soon as the rails are cooled bring a second...." But the Captain never finished his sentence.
"Sir!" Cried out another crewman. "I am reading a massive energy spike coming from.... confirming...yes sir. It is coming from a ryder." His tone was at first one of alarm but now it was one of confusion. He continued "I have never seen a single pilot vessel create these kinds of reading sir. Checking for instrument malfunction."

But there would soon be proof enough that the instruments were working just fine. A bright blue lance of sustained laser fire shot up into the sky. It would have been a powerful blast even from a battleship, but from a ryder it beggared belief. Not only that but the beam was a constant stream, Valerius was surprised the ryder had not already detonated with the strain. No power source small enough to fit aboard a ryder could handle that kind of stress!

It seemed to lower with a slow but grim inevitability toward the Veniczar's ship. That vessel's shields were still up, surely it could... But before that thought was even finished Valerius could see an image on one of his monitors of the bridge being cut into like it was butter. The heat from the beam alone would have killed the bridge crew instantly, let alone the sudden decompression and the vacuum of space. The ship might have survived had things ended there. But the beam kept cutting down and down, through deck after deck with an almost insulting level of ease. Just as the ship was starting to drift idly into two evenly cut pieces of glowing metal the tattered remains of the core must have exploded, and the ship was rapidly turned into little more than dust and spinning shrapnel.

The PACT radio net almost instantly descended into chaos. Standard practice was for the flag to instantly transfer to the secondary ship in the command group. But that ship had also been destroyed, although by more conventional fire, and no other ship had yet had the opportunity to establish itself as a replacement reserve flagship. Cullen, had a he been a competent leader, would have made it his first priority to immediately designated a new reserve flagship. But Cullen was not a competent leader.

With no established chain of command things rapidly disintegrated. The various ships in the five PACT fleets all started asking their fleet Admirals for orders, whilst the fleet Admirals all started either trying to avoid being made the new commander in order to avoid blame, or trying to seize the position to grab the glory. But crucially none of them could agree.

In an effort to establish order Valerius got a hold of his own fleet Admiral and gave his advice so sternly as to make it more of an order than a request.
"Transfer the flag to the Legion Admiral. It's so close! Transfer the flag to Legion!" But strangely Legion seemed to be observing a radio silence, when normally Valerius would have been expecting Arcadius to rapidly take command.

But Valerius could sense the unease of his crew in the face of the loss of the flagship and the uncertainty as to command. Addressing his own men the Captain firmly declared across the bridge.
"The battle is won comrades. We have at last surrounded the foe, their formation is broken, their casualties massive. There is no fight left in them. We need only prevent their escape and we can defeat them all. We do not need the Veniczar for victory, for it is already ours!" There was no cheer from the crew, this was not a cheering moment. But there was a slight relief of tension as the men returned to their work, focusing on the task at hand rather than the loss of the Veniczar.

As if to signal their renewed determination the SLMKC turrets opened up again in a blinding display of firepower encouraging the PACT ships around the Elysian to let loose with a few scattered laser shots of their own, still trying to reassert command and control. Valerius watched with satisfaction as another Alliance cruiser imploded in a ball of burning white light. But that satisfaction was nothing compared to the satisfaction he felt at seeing a small mercenary mining union ship start trailing an unusual amount of smoke and jettison her life pods as the Impetuous class ship Furious tore past at point blank range, pumping shot after shot from her main kinetic cannon into the ships exposed innards. His brother just had his first kill of the day.

This satisfaction grew still further when one of his hands called out.
"Sir. We have a clear line on the Sunrider. She is still out of range of all other weapons other than the Defiance gun." Now he had her.
"Bring the Defiance gun to bear, prepare to fire! Time until rails are at safe firing temperatures?"
"Sixty seconds!" Called out the Defiance gunnery officer.

A firm frown set upon Valerius's brow. Just as they had lost their flagship, now this coalition would lose theirs. The enemy's victory would be short lived. Or so he thought.
"New contacts!” Declared another bridge hand. Before adding in a more worried tone. “Two hundred new contacts to our stern. All Alliance craft! At least fifteen Machiavellis and fifteen carriers! Currently at extreme laser range.”
In an instant the battle had gone from a costly victory to an all-out brawl, and it was not one Valerius was keen to fight. But he absolutely would. PACT had shed far too much of her own blood today, her ships were getting a new coat of red paint no matter what. He was determined to make that sacrifice worthwhile. Whilst being at extreme laser range was not an immediate concern for the well shielded Elysian, that many ships would soon be close enough to do some real harm. Plus those fifteen Machiavelli cannons would also be within firing range. True at this distance their hit rate would likely be less than ten percent. But with fifteen of them staring him down that number was far too high.

He had to bring the Defiance gun to bear immediately, the Sunrider would escape for today.
“Hard to port!” He barked out, hands tightening behind his back. “Fire the SLMKC turrets on the lead enemy battleship!” After all, if they were within laser range the Alliance was within SLMKC range. It would take a few moments for the Elysian to turn enough to bring her two forward turrets into position. But her rear turrets were able to fire almost immediately. They rotated to face their new targets with grim malevolence, a ghost like blue shell occasionally shimmering across the skin of the Elysian as her shields absorbed long range Alliance laser fire.

This laser fire was answered by a pair of colossal blasts as the Elysian’s rear turrets returned the Alliance’s shots. Valerius could see on one of the nearby display panels a shot land solidly on the sloping sides of the enemy battleship. One of her kinetic turrets had suffered a direct hit and the multi tonne shell propelled by the SLMKC had ton clean into it. The kinetic impact alone was enough to splay the weapon clean open whilst the shell itself must have continued for a few moments into the battleship’s super structure before detonating. The explosion could be seen lancing out of the torn turret. Whilst the turret immediately behind it blew clean off like a champagne cork from an over shaken bottle as the detonation surged beneath it from below decks. For a few moments the Machiavelli trailed smoke and fire into the void before the inferno suddenly stopped as her captain sealed the affected compartments to the vacuum of space. The battleship had taken a stout punch but it was still standing, as it demonstrated when her axial cannon fired.

Valerius’s eyes narrowed at the distinctive flash of a Machiavelli cannon, he knew what those things could do and he had no desire to subject even the Elysian’s master crafted armour to those things. He found himself instinctively clenching his stomach for the impact and tensing his whole body.
“Shot wide!” Cried one of his officers. “Shot wide!” He repeated almost joyously. But Valerius was still waiting for the other fourteen shots.

It was at this juncture that a man who commanded almost as much respect as the Captain did on the bridge spoke up.
“Sir, we are receiving a communication from Legion.” He was a solidly built man, about the same age as the Captain with short brown hair and a square jaw. His features were largely concealed beneath his mask, but a pair of green eyes which spoke of experience could just be made out through the tinted view panes. This was Valerius’s first officer, Marcus Ovidius. He was usually seen with a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a holo reader in the other. For now though he was leaning intently over the shoulder of one of the communications officers, peering at the screen. Taking a moment to re-read the order he declared. “Sir, Legion has ordered a general retreat!”

Valerius span around on the spot, eyes wide with indignation. Retreat, now? With victory at hand! The Sunrider battlegroup was finished. Two whole fleets were behind Cullen’s command group and the Legion behind that. They could press forward and mop up the tattered remains in an instant, meanwhile the two pincer fleets could hold the Emerald fleet until relieved. This battle could still be won! Seeing the look on his Captain’s face the first officer again confirmed.
“A general retreat has been ordered.”
“Who are the designated rear guard units?” Enquired Valerius, barely concealing his agitation. He was not going to waste time disputing the order, doing that would either lead to his death by confusion in battle or death by firing squad. Orders had to be obeyed. But a rear guard was absolutely necessary. If no one attempted to stall the Emerald fleet the entire PACT armada would be gunned down as it turned tail. The answer Valerius got concerned him.
“Sir, there is no rear guard!”

That was madness, Alliance ships may not have been the fastest amongst the stars but if allowed to move unchecked they could readily mop up the confused and routing PACT forces. A rear guard had to be established to allow for a fighting retreat and the pincer fleets, being largely undamaged and closest to the Emerald fleet, were the best placed to take up the role. Pointing to his senior communications officer Valerius ordered.
“Get me a line to the Admiral of the northern pincer fleet.” A few moments later a small holo image of a distressed looking PACT Admiral came up on the small projector mounted near the fore of the bridge. Valerius spoke to the Admiral in firm but respectful tones. “Admiral Marsden. This is Captain Valerius Marius of the Elysian. This retreat has been ordered without a rear guard. Someone has to cover the retreat. Might I suggest we volunteer the northern pincer fleet to take the role?”

The Admiral meanwhile made no effort to conceal his shock and even appal at the suggestion.
“Have you lost your mind Captain Marius? We can’t stand against two hundred fresh Alliance ships. With the exception of your own ship we are made almost exclusively of destroyers and frigates. Those are battleships and carriers opposing us.” But Valerius was insistent.
“We do not need to stand for long, we need only delay the foe and prevent them from moving at pursuit speed until the rest of the fleet is away. The Elysian can cause the enemy carriers and battleships to stand off, or at least hesitate for a little while. Our small and agile ships can readily evade the enemy kinetic weaponry until they come within close range whilst our shields render their laser fire largely ineffective.”

Valerius was continuing his impassioned explanation when he was momentarily interrupted by the low boom of his SLMKC weapons firing once again, his ship now having pivoted enough to bring the forward weapons to bare. Casting his eye upwards briefly to see the effect of his ships fire he could not help but smile as the lead Alliance battleship, which had now been zeroed in on by his gunnery crews, took a devastating flurry of hits across her top and forward sections. A series of bright white flashes temporarily obscured the sight of the vessel but when they faded what they left behind was little more than a smoking hulk. The front half of her top deck had been torn open along its length, spilling fluids, ammunition, air and crew into the abyss. The dull flashes of secondary explosions could be seen rumbling within, visible through the ship’s great wound. Meanwhile one of her forward prongs, which contained vital components of the Machiavelli firing mechanism, sheered clean off, drifting away gently at first but then rapidly propelled forward by a great explosion. Another lance of flame erupted from her rear as a thruster fuel pool ignited from an SLMKC hit, a lance which shortly after turned into an explosion as the super-heated liquids set fire to a nearby fuel line. The ship seemed to bounce slightly with the shock before her running lights went dark and her rear fell alarmingly, propelled by the blast whilst her nose was forced up. Small explosions could now be seen starting to break out across the vessel and it would only be a matter of minutes until she imploded entirely.

With this momentary interruption passed Valerius continued his plea to the Admiral.
“Sir PACT ships need only evade, firing lasers and missiles, until the enemy come within close range. By then the rest of our fleet will be away and we can break off! Their cruisers will be reluctant to charge in the face of that kind of fire and with their battleships…” But Valerius was again cut off, this time by an alarming shake under his feet as the whole ship seemed to vibrate for a moment. Turning away from the holo the Admiral would be able to see Valerius bark out the query. “Report!”

His first officer answered him.
“Sir three Machiavelli shots, two went wide. We suffered a horizontal hit to our top armour, forward section. No penetration.” Turning his attention out of the window and inspecting the long, elegant form of the Elysian he saw her off white hull marred by a jet black scorch mark across her upper armour, near the prow. The enemy shell had come side on and skipped across the low armour of the Elysian like a pebble skimming on a pond. But the sheer heat of the scrape had burned a line into his ship. Cosmetic damage, nothing more. But it served as a stark reminder that he could be hit. However, despite this reminder Valerius was determined to stay and fight, if only for a few more minutes.
“Sir, will you order the rear guard action?”

The response he received was as swift as it was hard.
“I will not order my ships to stay behind to be slaughtered!” Valerius was moved to protest.
“Sir, we will all be…”
“Enough!” Barked the Admiral. “You may have whichever ships are foolish enough to volunteer to stay behind. But I am taking the fleet with me. Communication ends.” And with that Admiral Marsden was gone, his ship already making for the safety of open space. His vessel put out a call for volunteers, but the message rang hollow when coming from a ship fleeing the scene.

Determined not to allow the half-hearted plea of a vessel in flight to jeopardise the fleet Valerius decided to take the initiative.
“Put me through to all of the Captains of the northern pincer fleet!” After a few moments a gesture from one of his officers indicated that he an open channel. “Captains of the northern pincer fleet. Our flotilla is in disarray and a general retreat has been ordered. But if the Alliance reinforcements are allowed to pursue at full speed without slowing to engage they will destroy every ship here. Our fleet is largely intact. We need only hold for a few minutes to slow their advance. In doing so we save our comrades lives and allow them to safely withdraw. The Elysian will stay to protect our brothers! Who amongst you will stay with me?” He was full of conviction and confidence. But whilst his conviction was real his confidence was a mask, he knew the price rear guards often had to pay.

As if to punctuate his announcement it was at this juncture that the nose of the Elysian finally came about. Casting his eyes over the enemy fleet a tiny crook of a smile wormed its way on to his face.
“Prime the Defiance gun. Target the rearmost enemy carrier!” Again his Defiance officer called out.
"Rails charged, gaseous accelerators deployed, standard two stage round loaded, firing bay doors open, all safety and readiness markers show green! Target locked. Ready to fire." Narrowing his eyes and focusing purely on that ship which must have felt so safe so far behind the line Valerius paused for a moment before calling out.
“Fire!” Again the ship seemed to judder slightly with the sudden force and that same ghostly cloud of burning blue gasses and dancing lightning arced out from the prow of his mighty ship. Mere moments later a titanic shell tore straight into the rearmost carrier, a ship which could have rightly felt the safest and most sheltered. But any sense of security was swiftly done away with when layer after layer of armoured plating could not stop the furious onslaught of a two stage Defiance shell from penetrating deep into her superstructure before detonating in a terrible explosion right in her bowels.

A combination of size and good fortune allowed the mighty carrier to survive the blast, but only just. White flame billowed out from her launch and landing decks, tearing away her internal supports and melting girders in a moment of pure volcanic heat. Her central decks began to collapse in on one another whilst her bridge tower tumbled into the folding maw of rending metal. One of her main engine ports warped and twisted, jamming up entirely whilst the engine behind it kept trying to vent power into space to drive the ship on. It took mere moments for the build-up of pressure to be unsustainable and a section of the ship burst open from the inside, spewing fuel and engine parts into space, melted beyond recognition by a brief pillar of fire. But her second, starboard side engine, was still functional. The ship’s ryder decks were utterly destroyed, she was on fire, her bridge was gone, her supper structure was crumbling and threatened to come apart in the middle, her weapons were non-functional, but she was just about intact. Useless now for the upcoming battle, but alive.

A moment later the Elysian’s SLMKCs fired once again. A shell landed true on the nose of another Alliance battleship, cutting into one of her forward prongs. The shell did not pierce deeply enough or strike the right part of the ship to cause severe damage that may threaten the life of the vessel. But by striking one of the conducting prongs it did shatter the top most rail of the Machiavelli cannon, rendering the intimidating weapon useless, for now.

But despite his words, and the defiant display of the Elysian the response was not as overwhelming as he may have liked. With their flagship lost, an order to retreat, a withdrawing Legion and their morale crushed by the recent callus incident of friendly fire the fighting spirit of most PACT vessels had truly be been stripped away. So it was that a great many continued to flee without as much as a word. But the Elysian would not stand alone.

The first voice to answer him was the one voice Valerius almost did not want to hear, the one voice he wished would run, but the one voice he knew would never leave.
“This is Captain Marius of the Impetuous class warship Furious to Captain Marius of the Elysian. We will remain with you.” He wanted his brother to run. Valerius was under no illusions as to what a rear guard action entailed. They were going to save lives, but only at great risk to their own. They, a small section of a broken armada, were standing in front of the entire forward element of the Emerald Fleet. Why couldn’t his brother just run for once?

But it seemed that his brother’s example encouraged others to step forward. Mordechai always did have that personable quality. It was not long until more voices drifted over the comms.
“Omega missile boat Acasta will accompany the Elysian.”
“Impetus class ship Galster will stand with you Elysian.”
“Omega drone boat Kanaris will stay behind.”
“Omega missile boat Slinger will help cover the retreat.”

It was no surprise that it has been Omega ships which volunteered to stay behind even though they only made up a tiny proportion of the fleet and were entirely absent from the command group. They stayed behind not because the men of Omega were somehow nobler, they were not. But because it was the Elysian leading the effort. Many of the Captains of Omega vessels had served with Valerius Marius before and there was a comradeship that came with the shared service, the shared struggle. Valerius’s guns had been there to protect them in the past, as theirs had protected him. It made it difficult to leave him behind now. But it was not just Valerius that encouraged them to stay. It was the Elysian itself. A mighty symbol of the new Omega, a manifestation of their might and their hope for the future. For Omega to lose the Elysian so swiftly would have been a hammer blow to the planet’s moral. Even new hands who may not have been moved by Valerius were moved by the Elysian

Valerius was a little saddened to see so many Omega ships rally to him. He would rather his comrades of old escaped with their ships and crews intact. They, of all the people here, were the ones Valerius most wanted to protect and ensure escaped safely. But they were the ones staying behind. Not all Omega vessels by any stretch, some were still running whilst most were mixed in with the other fleets now peeling away. But still too many, and yet also not enough. He needed more ships to hold the Alliance for anything more than a few moments.

But the men of Omega did not have a monopoly on bravery.
“PACT missile frigate Pallias will volunteer.”
“PACT destroyer Cordell will also hold here.”
“As will the destroyer Colm.”

Three missile ships, a drone boat, two Impetus classes, two destroyers and the Elysian. Against two hundred Alliance ships. This was not going to go well. But heavy hearted as he may have been about the prospects of success he could not help but be more than a little proud of these brave little ships whilst simultaneously mournful for their likely fate.

The odds may have been stacked against them, but things started well. The sudden near fatal blow to a supposedly well protected carrier as well as the loss of a Macheaveli were causing all Alliance ships to try and steer clear of the Elysian’s forward firing arc and that terrifying Defiance gun. Enemy ships started trying to veer left and right, trying to spread out as best they could rather than heading straight for them. It was a wise move on their part, but a wise move that took time, time for more and more PACT ships to slip away.

Meanwhile Valerius had to reposition the rag tag collection of vessels he had acquired. His immediate problem was long range firepower, He needed PACT Cruisers or Bluestar cruisers. All he had for now were missiles and kinetic firepower aside from the Elysian itself and he had to find a way to churn those Alliance cruisers up on the way in.

Speaking on the hastily assembled communications net that his officers had automatically established between these volunteers, Valerius began improvising.
“All ships practice evasive manoeuvres until the enemy comes within medium range, then from up close on me. Impetuous classes to my fore, port and starboard, destroyers immediately behind them. Missile ships will form behind me and the drone boat behind them. To non-shielded ships, I am dispatching my support ryders to you, stay within their shield coverage.” As standard the Elysian had three support ryders, who, as well as using their shields to envelop otherwise vulnerable ships, were even now trying to run electronic warfare on the enemy battleships to further decrease the accuracy of their cumbersome Machiavelli cannons.

“Fire the scythe lasers on the incoming cruisers!” The Alliance would pay for their lack of shielding. But as two super concentrated spears of blue light shot fourth from the Elysian another few Alliance battleships decided to try their luck. Again, the majority of their shots missed but every time Valerius saw that distinctive burst of light his stomach twisted into yet another knot. A knot which threatened to burst when he felt another sudden jolt. This one was harder and seemed to reverberate right up through his bones, accompanied by a sudden flash on the upper surface of the Elysian’s hull.

“Impact!” Called out Valerius’s first officer. “Thirty meters ahead of our aft starboard turret. Primary and secondary armour layers breached, stopped at the tertiary layer. No fires reported, all systems functional.” Glancing over at the point of impact Valerius could see a neat circular puncture wound in his precious ship, the rim of the hole scorched black and twisted back by the blast. But the Elysian was made of sterner stuff. Still, this would not last forever.

By way of response the SLMKC turrets opened fire on a new battleship, the damaged ship no longer being a priority after losing her main gun. The Elysian gun crews were gaining confidence and had by now settled into a neat rhythm, loading, aiming, and firing with brutal efficiency. The narrow front profile of an Alliance battleship may have made things harder than they may otherwise have been, but it was still a huge target. Another eight shells tore from those awe inspiring barrels and three hit home. One glanced harmlessly off of the sloping armour of the enemy ship, leaving little more than a scratch in the paintwork. The second slammed into the base of the bridge tower, tearing apart lift shafts, circuitry and lines of communication, cutting the bridge off from the rest of the ship. Indeed, enough of the towers structure was blown away to cause the whole edifice to lean forward alarmingly, as if about to snap under its own weight and fall face first into the hull. Only a few straining beams seemed to hold it up, and even then, only just. The third shell whistled past the bridge tower, missing it by mere meters, and instead hit home just above one of the battleship’s main engine ports. The ensuing explosion caused enough damage to render one of the engines inoperable, whilst the others kept operating normally. The sudden difference in thrust caused the ship to veer hard to port and with a damaged bridge it seemed as though the battleship was having difficulty brining the problem under control.

Again, this was another Machiavelli gun forced off of target or out of play, a success as far as the Elysian was concerned. Not only that but the carriers had ceased their advance, as had the battleships, seemingly preferring to outshoot the Elysian at extreme range rather than draw closer to those SLMKC turrets and risk taking even more accurate fire. Meanwhile, the Alliance admiral, which Valerius did not know was Admiral Grey, had ordered his cruisers and lighter ships to tear forward and try to close with the Elysian, or bypass her entirely. It was common practice to keep your cruisers and lighter ships close to the battleships and carriers to protect them against smaller, more agile craft. But Grey had realised that no such small craft were coming, and that he could afford to send his protection forward into close combat, where they could actually do some harm.

The two scythe lasers of the Elysian were doing their best, but they lacked the power of the SLMKC turrets. They had put down a decent amount of fire but had thus far only forced one Alliance cruiser to pull back for repairs and disabled another. But Valerius had a plan. As the Alliance cruisers rushed towards him they were drawing closer together. Deploying their meagre laser fire against him the sheer number of guns was starting to add up. The Elysian’s shields were starting to strain.
“We need to relieve pressure on the shields sir!” Cried Valerius’s first officer. “Give them time to recover!”

But Valerius seemed unconcerned the battle as a whole posed a great deal of difficulty but he had a solution to this problem.
“Do not worry number one. Prepare the Defiance, load an iron star shell. Target dead ahead, centre of the cruiser formation.” The Defiance gun may have lacked the power of some of her counterparts or the ability to strike multiple ships simultaneously with her main shot. But she made up for it with fire rate, it took little more than a couple of minutes for her rails to cool.
"Rails charged, gaseous accelerators deployed, iron star round loaded, firing bay doors open, all safety and readiness markers show green! Target locked. Ready to fire.” Came the well-rehearsed words of his Defiance officer.

“Fire!” And so the Defiance would speak once more. But this time her target was not any one ship, but rather an empty point in space in amongst the oncoming Alliance swarm of cruisers, frigates, destroyers and ryders. Once there the strangely spherical shot suddenly detonated in a hail of needle sharp armoured spears. That flew about in all directions. All but the most heavily armoured of ryders stood little chance against this hail, as they found their craft lanced by dozens of near half meter long shards. Some pilots were even unfortunate enough to take a shaft to the cockpit, resulting in an inevitably lethal impaling.

The savage spears even punctured into lightly armoured frigates and fast destroyers, the tiny lances punching equally tiny holes in the hull and landing with a clatter inside wall cavities or on the floor of decks. The cruisers fared better and the shards routinely lodged in their armour without punching though. But still, the damage to all ships other than unfortunate ryders was minimal. That was until all the shards exploded. Each individual explosion was very small, the key lay in how many of them there were. Ryders stood little chance as vital internal systems were fried and limbs blown off at the pivots. Those shards that had managed to pierce the hulls of weaker conventional ships tore apart vital cables, killed crew, rupture fuel lines and set fires wherever they lay. The actual damage to the superstructure was minimal but internal system damage was a real problem. The cruisers meanwhile, who had the shards lodged in their armour, did not escape without penalty. Their internal systems may have escaped undamaged but the sudden shocks of dozens of simultaneous explosions at random locations within the armour itself created cracks and fault lines in the heavy plating. A second shot from a conventional weapon could crack through the armour like an egg. A battleship would have been entirely unaffected, but Alliance cruisers were just thinly armoured enough to be vulnerable. The timing of the explosions was carefully set to make sure that the shards never had enough time to fly back to the ship that fired the shot, preventing a potentially costly own goal.

Ryder after ryder was torn out of the sky, their tattered remains sent spinning off in all directions. Frigates and cruisers seemed unmoved, but with some ships their guns seemed to fall silent, with others engines stuttered and spat, some had notable accuracy fall offs and others appeared to be having difficulty steering. But within each of those craft in the centre of the enemy formation emergency crews were desperately fighting fires or repairing systems. Only the Cruisers seemed to be continuing without impediment. But damage and destruction was not the reason why Valerius had fired an iron star.

He had fired it to force a redeployment. Again the ships heading towards him veered off left and right in an effort to put some space between them and limit the effectiveness of any future similar shots. This would take a few minutes, a few minutes in which the enemy were not closing. In which he could keep firing his SLMKC guns. Was he killing ships? Not nearly enough to make a difference. Was he slowing them down? Yes, and that was what mattered. Better yet, whilst they were repositioning they did not have the opportunity to put down concentrated laser fire, giving the Elysian’s shields a much needed rest.

About him the SLMKC turrets once again proclaimed Omega’s will to the void. Another Alliance battleship came under fire but this one seemed to fair a little better. Two shots struck home but glanced off of either side of her sloping armour, leaving little more than scratch marks on her surface. Meanwhile, another few Machiavelli cannons answered the Elysian. Eight bright flashes could be made out against the blackness and Valerius held his breath.

Moments later he felt a mild rumble as he saw a sudden scorch mark mar the surface of his ships armour to the port side, a glancing… There was then a thunderous explosion, Valerius only just managed to stay upright as the deck lurched beneath him, all about him men fell and were sprawled momentarily on the floor before desperately scrambling to their feet and looking about in a state of surprise.

Casting his gaze over the deck Valerius did not have to search long for the damage. Square in the middle of his forward facing armour in his rearmost section, portside, was a not immodestly sized hole bleeding smoke into the void.
“Damage report!”
“Sir! Section D7 on decks seven and eight are open to the void. Reporting fires in section D6 on both decks.” Replied the first officer, then turning to a hand he continued without prompting. “Seal affected D7 areas, dispatch fire crews and repair teams to D6 on affected decks.” Turning back to Valerius the first office continued. “Sir, port side scythe concentrator panel has been shattered. The port side scythe is non functional.” That was bad news, with his SLMKC turrets tied up with battleships he needed those lasers to hurt the cruisers.

But it was not all doom and gloom. His chief communications officer called out from his post.
“Sir, first cruiser fleet is away, first cruiser fleet is away! Second cruiser fleet reports withdrawal to warp in progress.”

Again his SLMKC turrets spoke out spiting white hot spite and rage at the Alliance. The battleship which had been fortunate enough to survive two glancing blows was now made subject to a number of far squarer hits. The first tore clean into the top of her bridge tower, practically shearing away the top few meters before scattering the remnants into space, propelled by a thunderous blast whilst that exact same explosion thrust a broad tongue of fire and molten metal down the shaft of her tower. Meanwhile a second shot blew away one of her Machiavelli cannon prongs arcing it off into space before a third shot hit the exact same spot a split second later and hurtled through the open wound deep into the ship, detonating in another tremendous and now terminal explosion. The superstructure of the ship began to drift apart, blown apart from the inside. It started slowly at first, but suddenly something seemed to catch and propel vast chunks of battleship outwards at tremendous speeds.

But now, even with the delay that the iron star had caused, the enemy was coming closer and beginning to enter medium range. Valerius knew things were about to get worse.
“Bring our ships tight in! Prepare to receive cruiser fire!”

As the rear guard vessels took up their formation the network of overlapping shields from the support ryders combined with the shields already installed on most of the vessels to present a formidable wall against any laser fire, rendering such efforts almost useless. Now the enemy was coming within medium range the Alliance cruisers were still limited in their effectiveness, their kinetic weapons ideally needed to be just that little bit closer. But they were now within ideal missile range of one another. A startling array of missiles erupted from the oncoming enemy cruisers and those lesser ships which were still capable of missile fire. Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of vapour trails all hurtling towards the Elysian and the Elysian alone. But Valerius was unconcerned. There was another reason why he had brought his ships closer together. Every ship here other than the PACT missile frigates had some form of flak capability whilst the Impetuous class ships and the Elysian had an almost grotesque amount of protection. The criss-crossing dome of flak and point defence cover which burst into explosive life above their ships was beyond formidable and those dozens of missiles ran into a hail of steel tipped shot and tracer rounds that was so dense it was practically a rain.

The sky lit up in a series of ornate explosions that could have been confused for a firework display in gentler times. But sadly no defence was ever perfect and Valerius’s eyes traced two trails of smoke and vapour tear into the starboard side of his prow. But when the momentary flash faded all he could see was two great scorch marks and slightly twisted metal. Metal which had not ripped.
“No penetration!” Called out his number one. Had the Alliance targeted the lesser ships they may have had more success. But the Elysian’s colossal firepower had understandably made it their prime target, and now they had to deal with her formidable armour.

“All ships return kinetic fire on the Alliance Cruisers. Reserve missile fire for isolated ships only. SLMKC turrets, re prioritise targets. Cruisers in our forward fire arc now top priority. Pulse cannons open fire, prioritise enemy frigates and destroyers in the forward arc. Position the Defiance to fire on an enemy carrier!”

“Aye aye sir!” Came various voices in reply shortly before the SLMKC turrets spoke their own words of agreement. For the other ships in the rear guard the cruisers were still at quite long range for kinetic weapons, but they were in a desperate situation and had ammunition to burn. But for the SLMKC turrets targeting a cruiser at this range was almost a triviality. Each turret picked out a separate cruiser and served up their own little slice of hell. The now brittle armour of these ships had to stand against the faster than light impact of multi tonne highly engineered shells. Needless to say, the armour failed. The shots tore with almost casual ease into the hearts of the cruisers and promptly detonated. One Cruiser exploded almost instantly, several vast chunks of her, each over a hundred meters long span out in all directions, casting away smaller sections of ship and crew alike as it did so. A second ship’s engine ports seemed to catch fire, a fire which rapidly spread. In moments it was a little more than a screaming ball of flame, still tearing dead ahead, a miraculously intact superstructure still somehow holding together inside. But it was only a matter of time. Seconds later escape pods could be seen flying out of the blazing wreckage. But judging by the tiny number of such craft rocketing away few of the crew had survived the blazing inferno. A third ship seemed to stall and lose power, starting to drift idly whilst a fourth began to trail smoke, but was seemingly still combat worthy as she tore ahead.

Laser shots came back by way of return from the surviving cruisers and lesser ships, all of which broke like waves on the cliffs of the formidable shield dome that Valerius had created. But he still had to deal with those Alliance battleships. As if to remind him of the fact two more loud clangs echoed across the Elysian and the ship rumbled benath him.
“Two more glancing hits sir!” Called his first officer, the strangely gentle curves of the Elysian presented not a single flat surface for an enemy gun to land a square hit on, and this design was paying off. But nothing was perfect. A third sudden jolt rocked the ship.
“Third impact near our prow. Primary and secondary armour layers holed, stopped at the third layer!” These Alliance swine were getting more accurate. They could not stay here for much longer.

The oncoming Alliance force was still mostly intact. Even those ships at the centre which had taken the worst of the fire had only been slightly reduced in number, whilst the ships to the extreme left and right had gone unmolested altogether and were now threatening to bypass Valerius to his port and starboard and pursue the withdrawing PACT forces. If only he had more ships he could have fought on a wider front, if only. But this would have to do. He couldn’t stop them all.

Besides, he had to worry about his own survival.
“Enemy ships entering standard kinetic engagement range!” Declared the first officer. His voice solid and stalwart. But Valerius had served with Marcus for years and he could hear the concern that lay beneath.
“Second cruiser fleet has sustained notable casualties’ sir!” Called out the chief communications officer. “But the survivors are away, I repeat, second cruiser fleet is away!”

He was making a difference, but now he was really going to pay for it. He saw the distinctive orange burn of a kinetic rounds tracer hurtle towards him from ship after ship. His hands clenched behind his back so tight his crew would have been able to see his knuckles turn white were it not for his black gloves. Three, two, one.

A ripple of shots impacted along the hull of his mighty ship. How many impacts there were he could not tell, one shock seemed to blend seamlessly into the next. He saw his hull light up in a series of dull orange and black blossoms, which would have been beautiful were it not for the devastation they implied. His only solace was how well built his armour was. If he could stand against a few Machiavelli rounds he could stand this. Indeed, as his eyes adjusted and the smoke cleared he saw only a series of shallow pock marks and twisted scorches across the surface of his ship. Scratches, but no real wounds.

That was until his eyes turned to a small point just ahead of his foremost turret. From the burn patterns several shells must have landed their near simultaneously and his ship now bled fluids into the void from a small wound in her top deck. Even cruisers, en mass and concentrated, targeting an already weakened point, posed a threat.
“Seal those pipes down!” Called out the first officer without need for instruction.
“Order the drone carrier to dispatch repair drones to aid the Elysian.” Added Valerius, some of his wounds were going to need stitching.

His words were punctuated by the low boom of an exploding enemy frigate, at last overwhelmed by the constant barrage from the mark 14 pulse turrets of the Elysian which had hurled sphere after sphere of crackling blue energy into the unfortunate vessel. By now his escort ships were also engaged. Valerius could see the PACT destroyers letting off their worrisome kinetic cannons, but those ships lacked the durability of an Alliance cruiser and he worried for them in the event that the foe decided to cease focusing fire on the Elysian. His concern was not lessened when he watched a well-placed shot from a PACT destroyer tear straight through the base of an Alliance frigate bridge tower, rending it clean off doubtless sending the crew into a leaderless panic whilst a fire began to blaze where the tower had once stood.

Another Alliance frigate briefly learned to fear the Furious, before meeting its fate. In an effort to draw close to the Elysian it had attempted to tear past Mordechai and his ship, but Mordechai would not let anyone rush his little brother and landed a firm blow to her portside from a pair of kinetic cannons of a scale larger than you would normally expect to see on a ship that size. The frigate might have survived the experience had it not been for an alarming number of assault guns swiftly pouring rapid fire into the frigate’s open wound, rending internal systems, shattering bulk heads, setting fires, sending shrapnel careening down the corridors in a cruel lottery of death and dismemberment. Eventually a munitions dump was caught by one of the assault rounds and promptly detonated, causing an explosion which tore out of the frigates far side and practically ripped the ship in two.

Missiles flew about left right and centre as all ships other than the Elysian began to rapidly deploy their limited reserves of this devastating firepower, targeting only those Alliance ships which had become isolated and thus enjoyed little flak cover.
“Lancer ryders and medium ryders are to engage the Alliance ryders. Bomber ryders, focus on the enemy destroyers. Support ryders remain in sheltered positions.” Commanded Valerius, hands still behind his back, unmoving as he surveyed the battlefield.

There were several more bright flashes as his SLMKC turrets spat fire and fury into space. The Alliance cruiser which had stalled and lost power made an easy target and took several hits to her exposed side. Already damaged and vulnerable the SLMKC shells seemed to tear her side open like a bear mauling a deer, crew and components spilled out whilst a series of muted flashes could be seen within, indicating the inevitable and rapid build-up of secondary explosions as powers systems overloaded, fuel lines caught and munitions detonated. Eventually these reached a crescendo and culminated in one giant ball of flame which tore the vessel apart from the inside. Meanwhile, the cruiser which was already trailing smoke but which otherwise remained functional still seemed to have the luck of the devil. A round tore clean into one of her two main kinetic turrets, caving it in like a brute might cave in a skull. But whilst the ship may have lost that turret it still steamed ahead, its remaining turret and assault guns firing in open defiance of the vastly superior Elysian.

Dead ahead an Alliance cruiser was making straight for the prow of the Elysian. This one was intact and had been too far away to be affected by the iron star. A shot rang out and bounced off of the Elysian dangerously close to her open wound near the fore turret. A second shot fell wide but only just. The SLMKC’s would take a few precious seconds to load and adjust their aim, they would not be able to turn to this foe quickly enough.

But the Furious, and the other Impetuous class ship the Galster, would not allow this cruiser’s attack to go unanswered. The Furious was the first to fire, scoring two square hits to the starboard side of the enemy. Moments later the Galster scored a similar blow to the port side. Then the Furious fired again, her crews working at a phenomenal pace to bring about this rate of fire. But the Alliance cruiser kept moving and fired a third and fourth round right at the Elysian at extreme close range. One shot struck the fore turret square, rattling the crew inside but seemingly leaving no mark beyond a cosmetic burn. The other shot though hit the open wound and penetrated into the Elysian, the shot’s line of travel caused it to detonate a little beneath the fore turret. Valerius heard the boom even from his far end of the ship. Moments later he saw the smoke trailing from the hole in his fore section, betraying the fire beneath.

“Sir!” Called out the first officer. “The motors on the fore turret are smashed and the oil lines are burning. She can’t turn and the crew is trapped! Ammunition reserve being taken to a safe distance. Fire crews being dispatched.” Valerius had been right to worry about his foremost turret, he had just lost the use of it.

Another shot from the Galster punished the Alliance cruiser which had struck the blow, tearing into her engines and causing her to trail alarming amount of fire and smoke. Whilst the Furious put a round into her bridge, ripping it open and spewing the command crew into the cold vacuum of oblivion. Burning and leaderless the ship’s steering seemed to fail and the craft veered alarming to the left and down, locked into a death dive away from the battle whilst the fire spread. Mordechai was not fighting for a fellow Captain. He was fighting for his little brother and with that came a determination and fury like no other.

Another explosion rocked the Elysian. Even Valerius, who usually stood like a statue, was forced to stagger slightly to correct his balance.
“Report!”
“Sir.” Began the first officer. “An enemy frigate and enemy destroyer have drawn close and are concentrating fire on our port side damaged area, where the scythe laser once was. Shots are penetrating deep through the opening. Life support lost in D6 on decks seven and eight and D5 on deck seven. Reporting fires in D5, 4, and 3 on both decks seven and eight. Munitions….” He did not need to finish that sentence. Another explosion, louder than any that had come before rumbled down every corridor and service shaft of the Elysian. A pillar of bright white flame erupted from the port side top hull about a hundred meters forward of one of the main turrets, armoured plates spiralled away like they meant nothing and what metal stayed melted in the vast heat. It was only the greatest good fortune that meant that the main barrels of the tremendous turret were not over the flame.

“Seal that compartment!” Called out Valerius, but one of his hands interjected.
“Sir, there are still crew…”
“Seal them!” Practically screamed Valerius, wide eyed and full of fire. In the face of this the crewman could not help but obey, and in the nick of time. Another explosion rocked the mighty Elysian and mushroomed out of the hole upwards into space. Had the compartment been left open it would have torn down the corridors of the ship. This way it was funnelled out into space. Valerius had doomed those crewman trapped in there with it, either to death by explosion or to cook in their own skins from the sheer heat. But he had saved the rest of the ship, for the next few minutes at least.

The ships which had dared inflict this blow met with swift retribution. The frigate was overwhelmed by portside mark 14 pulse cannons whilst the destroyer soon found itself staring right down the twin barrels of the SLMKC turret it had so nearly destroyed. It only had to gaze at their terrifying maws for about a second before two vast shells were propelled into it with such force as to cleave into it like paper and tear two great channels into her heart, before exploding in a star like ball of fire and molten metal. But despite this it was becoming clear that the Elysian could not stand this much longer. Another clang rattled down the ship as a Machiavelli round ricocheted off of her prow and span harmlessly out into space.

“Sir, southern pincer group signals that they are away!” Called out the communications officer over the cacophony of battle. “Alliance ships got around us. They sustained seventy percent casualties. But the survivors are away!” Seventy percent. That was the kind of price you paid for not having an adequate rear guard, if only he could have held the flanks as well as the centre. But at least Valerius could draw some comfort from the fact that it might well have been one hundred percent were it not for him.
“Defiance cannon in position and rails cooled!” Called out Defiance’s dedicated officer.
“Load a two stage shell and target that intact carrier.” Order Valerius, a note of almost cruelty coming into his voice. He wanted to make the Alliance pay dearly for the lives they had taken this day and for the victory they had stolen from PACT.
"Rails charged, gaseous accelerators deployed, standard two stage round loaded, firing bay doors open, all safety and readiness markers show green! Target locked. Ready to fire."
“Fire!” Bellowed Valerius.

Another shot tore from the haunting blue haze of mist and lightning left by the Defiance cannon, followed a moment later by the titanic impact on the unsuspecting foe. An Alliance carrier was a colossal mass of metal and systems, far exceeding even a battleship in terms of its bulk. But as large as it was, it was also significantly more fragile. The two stage shell tore into her heart and drove right back into her massive engines before detonating in a hail of explosives, shrapnel, chemicals and electrical interference. Fuel lines were cut and their precious contents ignited. Pressure regulators were melted and fused, great turbines jammed and shattered. Fuel reserves super-heated and exploded in their tanks, the core was lanced and cracked wide open, the reaction within tearing out all at once to begin rapidly consuming the ship from within. The whole craft seemed to start cracking and folding in to the middle before suddenly exploding outwards propelled by a vast explosion that appeared like a small and brief sun in the blackness.

With one carrier so badly damaged it would have to spend the next few months in dock, and one carrier outright destroyed this was no longer the cheap victory the Alliance may have been hoping for. But it was still their victory undeniably, and there was nothing the Elysian was going to be able to do about that.

“Sir!” The voice of his chief comms officer called out again. “Northern pincer group is half away, but their rear elements are engaged. The last battleship of the command group has surrendered.”
"Sir!” Interrupted one of the crewmen responsible for tracking ship locations. “Sunrider battle group is no longer engaged. They are turning about sir and beginning to make for our rear!”
If the Elysian was here when the Sunrider, or even a portion of her battlegroup, arrived they were dead. There was no more this rear guard could do. It was time to leave. But where could they go? Foes to the front, foes to the rear, foes to the left and right. This was the great risk of a rear guard action.

A desperate situation called for bold action, and whilst Valerius tended to favour cautious engagements he knew how to act in a crisis.
“Order all ships to maintain formation and keep pace with the Elysian. Signal the engine room. Engines all ahead full! Gunners, cut us a hole straight ahead. Furious, Galster, any hunks of metal get in our way clear them!”

The order went out and the Elysian’s engines, which had been idly ticking over, roared into furious life. For a ship of her vast size she was capable of surprising speed. A large portion of her top deck seemed devoid of weapons, causing many people to wonder what was housed below. The answer was a variety of state of the art systems including a series of generators capable of developing titanic amounts of power. It was these generators that gave the Elysian her formidable shields and powerful engines amongst any number of other impressive features. Despite her colossal bulk she was capable of outpacing any battleship in the fleet and could readily keep pace with a cruiser. This speed made the Elysian a truly annoying opponent when it was free to move. In the battles fought thus far Valerius had demonstrated a propensity to keep his ship at extreme range, following opponents when they withdrew and falling back when they advanced. Allowing his SLMKC turrets to fire almost unanswered from beneath the Elysian’s strong shielding.

But today he had been denied that manoeuvrability, to delay the foe he had to stay put much to his chagrin. But now he could surge ahead.
“Navigator!” He called out across the bridge, not turning as he stared at the battle in front of him. “Enemy cruisers and small craft have advanced too far beyond their battleships and carriers. The gulf between them is large enough for us to perform a jump. Plot your coordinates, inform me when you are ready to warp.”

Every ship in the Elysian’s formation was letting loose with everything it had. Impetuous assault guns drove away ryders whilst their kinetic cannons fought frigates and destroyers. PACT destroyer kinetic guns pounded away at Alliance cruisers. Missile ships let loose their last few precious shots at isolated stragglers. The air was alive with flack fire, resulting in a hail of mid-air detonations that seemed to obscure the stars. The Elysian trailed smoke behind it as it surged ahead, letting off bright white flashes as her three functional turrets lashed out at any cruiser which attempted to stop them. One remaining scythe laser lanced out time and again at weaker ships whilst the regular and unceasing thud of her mark fourteen pulse cannons pounded away at any lightly armoured and unshielded vessel that looked like it might draw close.

But despite all this the Alliance was still determined to stop them, seemingly set upon bringing down this troublesome ship.
“Sir, cruiser coming across our path!” Declared the first officer.
“Missiles away!” Replied Valerius, at last authorising the use of some of their precious missile stock.

Twelve missiles tore from the concealed tubes of the Elysian and hurtled across the short distance between them and the ship that seemed to be intentionally coming across their bow. Two were intercepted by flack but the other ten hit home, pounding vast holes in her side, buckling support struts and twisting the super structure. But the ship was still in one piece. It was broken and battered, useless now in battle but still a single large lump of metal right in front of him and he had no time to change course.

Opening a line to his Impetuous class ships he ordered.
“Move it!” And the two vessels surged ahead, ramming their heavily reinforced prows into the hulk and cutting deep into it, slicing and tearing the already damaged structure. Assault cannon shots poured into its belly further breaking the cruiser apart until eventually it began to lose structural integrity and broke up into small, more manageable pieces which the solid prows of the Furious and Galster were able to push aside.

As if to add insult to injury Valerius saw his brother’s ship fire a well-placed shot from her main cannon at an enemy destroyer that had already received quite a licking from the Elysian’s pulse weaponry. The shot from the Furious seemed to push it over the edge and blow a great hole near her engines that set ablaze with an unbearable heat, followed shortly by an explosion from within that sent it listing off into oblivion, as escape pods rocketed desperately away. Mordechai was putting up one hell of a fight and the Furious was preforming well above her class.

As the Elysian and her accompanying ships punched through the Alliance assault force enemy cruisers, frigates and destroyers alike all desperately tried to turn to chase their would be victims and the only foe left on the field. But even in a vacuum turning a ship that size was no easy task. So instead they had to make do with firing as many desperate shots at the PACT forces as they could and setting their ryders off in pursuit. Those kinetic cannons aboard the Alliance ryders were not to be underestimated, as Valerius discovered when they at least dispensed with trying to engage the Elysian directly.

The casualties began to stack rapidly as the ships traditionally positioned to the rear and flank of a fleet suddenly came under direct and concentrated fire.
“Sir we have lost the Slinger and the Cordell” Declared the first officer, his voice rising slightly in volume and urgency as they began losing ships.

The first officers concern was mirrored by another member of the bridge crew who called out. “Sir, battle group Sunrider is coming within extreme laser range. I don’t know which ship has the lead! They are pursuing us faster than the Alliance ships we just passed can turn!” Valerius desperately did not want to be caught. He had to slow his pursuers down.
“Aft SLMKC turrets, fire to the rear!” He ordered. “Slow that group down. Forward turret fire on….”

A sudden and tremendous explosion cause even Valerius to fall to one knee momentarily. By the time he stood up he could see a worrying trail of flame and smoke coming from his prow.
“Machiavelli impact and penetration. Two glanced off but the third got through.” Declared the first officer. “Sir, it has bent one of the Defiance rails, the Defiance is non-operational!”

But Valerius was more concerned with the sight of the Furious, on fire and trailing smoke. Alliance Ryders had landed a few lucky hits in those precious moments when Valerius was on one knee, and whilst the last of them was now being torn to shreds by the Furious’s own assault guns it was starting to look very fragile as her shields wavered and her frame rocked.

But safety and security were so close as the group reached open space.
“We are clear of the enemy pursuers!” Declared one hand. Urgency, fear and hope all present in his voice in a confused mix of emotions.
“All ryders, emergency landing!” Ordered Valerius, as keen to leave the field as his crew but with better check on his mood.
“Sir, I am ready to warp.” Called out the Navigator, almost begging for the order to go.
“Wait until we have the ryders on board then wait on my signal.” Insisted Valerius, unwilling to leave any of his pilots behind. Arcadius may have casually thrown away the lives of his comrades, but not Valerius. As the ryders began to land the precious overlapping shield cover was inevitably lost, each ship now had to rely on the integrity of her own shield protection.

But laser fire was not all they had to worry about. Looking to a nearby instrument panel the first officer called out.
“Missile and torpedo launches detected. Sir, the Machiavelli’s are launching every missile and rocket they have!” But Valerius scarcely needed the update, he could see the shots coming clear as day across the blackness of space.
“Last ryder coming on board now sir!” Declared the chief flight officer.

Out of the corner of his eye Valerius could see eight blue lasers in two groups of four flying forward in perfect alignment to his portside. He could not see where they had come from or which ship had fired but it was clear they were all from a single weapon. They struck near perfectly the rear of the Pallias, an unshielded and already damaged PACT missile frigate which promptly exploded in the face of an assault against which it had no defence. As bad as it was to see a friendly ship destroyed Valerius would always wish it had been a perfect shot.

In silent horror he watched two of the crystal blue beams sail on as they had just barely overshot their target. His eye traced their inevitable path as the world seemed to move now at the pace of a snail. Valerius was very suddenly acutely aware of his breath, his chest felt tight, his skin became cold in an instant. He tried to move, he tried to shout. He tried to do something, anything! But his body did nothing, how could it possibly have done anything in this land where time stood almost still?

He watched as those two beams tore into the rear of the Furious and her failed shielding. He saw armour peel away, he saw her main reactor laid bare. He saw it glow red, orange, yellow, white. He saw it explode in a display so bright and pure as to be devoid of colour. He saw the turret pop off, blown away by the force of the explosion from within. He thought he saw a silhouette in the bridge window. A very familiar silhouette. Impossible of course, no individual could be made out at this distance. But real or imagined he saw it. He saw his brother standing there. Turning to face the maelstrom behind him. He saw the bridge windows filled with fire. He tried to close his eyes but his eyelids would not move. Across the void of space he heard his brother scream for a brief moment, before being snuffed out. Again, impossible, but the human mind can do a terrifyingly good job at filling in the blanks, particularly when you most want the void to remain. Then he saw the whole ship tear itself apart and melt away.

What he did not hear was the voice of his crewman.
"All ryders aboard sir!” Eventually the Captain became dimly aware of someone shouting in the background.
“Ryders aboard, shall we warp sir?” Valerius turned, a mildly confused look on his face, as though he could not quite remember where he was. “Ryders aboard, shall we…”

But the crewman did not have to finish the question. With missiles coming, Machiavelli cannons taking aim, and the first officer having worked out what just happened the dependable Marcus stepped forward and bellowed out the order.
“Warp!” And with that, the Elysian, and her remaining escorts were gone, blinking away to another point in space.

---

---

Ongess felt like home, almost. The world itself was far more hospitable than Omega, but it was never Omega’s nightmarish natural environment that made it hell. That was caused by the excessive greed of the few and it was obvious Ongess had fallen prey to many of the same abuses. Nearby the Elysian was undergoing intensive work. Arcadius had been right to pull the fleet back here for repairs. Even without dry docks the worlds industrial might and the huge amount of raw labour available allowed for quick work. True, the planet and its habitats lacked skilled craftsmen, their education system not exactly being up to scratch. But under supervision they did fast and adequate work. 

But Valerius was not aboard the Elysian. He was on orbital habitat P4X-684. He had to admit, the arc of the orbital habitat above his head, resulting in the shacks and ghettoes above him being suspended upside down in a seemingly impossible manner, was new. But it was not entirely alien. It put him in mind the rows upon rows of houses in the Omega habitats, stacked atop one another like shelves in a warehouse, stretching up so high and down so far that a man could not see where they began or ended. Though that might have had something to do with the smog that occasionally ran so thick as to be like a dense fog. A clawing mist which corroded your lungs.

Speaking of the air many of the PACT troops guarding the landing bay were gagging at the rancid smell that ran through this orbital hovel. It was the smell of sewers that had long since stopped working, trash that was never collected, dead that were never buried, water than ran stale and infected, industrial fumes that burned the eyes. It was the smell of cruel neglect and utter exploitation that rotted your sinuses from the inside. But it bore a familiar tang to the Captain and the men from Omega who were with him. On Omega, there was less rubbish and more chemicals, but the cruelty was the same.

He walked past broken, starving men on the street, huddled beneath rags, crouched over what little fire they could muster. Sickness was everywhere, one man leaning against a make shift corrugated steel wall was vomiting a substance so black as to defy both belief and possibility. Whilst a mother was frantically yet lovingly bouncing a baby in her arms, willing it to health as she muttered wearily to herself.
“He never cries, why does he never cry?”

Meanwhile, from the shadows and alley ways hollow, cold, eyes stared out from faces that were as willing to cut throats as they were to cut purses. But despite this place and the hard, desperate men who inhabited it, Valerius walked through the streets with his head held high. This was too much like home to scare him. But more than that he, as well as the men and trucks behind him, were protected. The word had gone out, PACT and particularly the men from Omega were not to be touched. The reason was partly what was loaded in the trucks, and partly where it was being sent.

Eventually the group arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned industrial complex. The walls were covered in graffiti, windows were smashed and the great stacks had long since stopped bellowing smoke. Huge reinforced doors swung open to welcome the convoy, awaiting them were a number of armed men who, judging by their rough and irregular clothes, were a criminal gang rather than soldiers. Still Valerius walked at the head of his column, hands behind his back, not a trace of worry on his brow.
“Well you’re a punctual prick at least!” Called out a voice from the darkness. It was undeniably female, but it carried a harsh, brash, venomous bite not usually associated with a lady. From the shadows a short, blonde haired woman emerged. She seemed little more than a girl but Valerius had been briefed. He knew who this was and that she was far from a child.
“Cosette Cosmos. Your reputation proceeds you. As does the reputation of this world.”

As she walked forward her cold grey eyes came into focus, Valerius could not help but think that she was planning even now how to cut his throat or slice into his kidney. Some habits died hard.
“Then tell me, what is my reputation?” She asked, her predatory grin showing that she already knew the answer. Valerius’s response was flat and matter of fact, almost casual.
“That you are a cold, hard, brutal killer. That you are a terror of the stars, plaguing the mining union for years. You have no scruples, no rules and no remorse. That you will use every dirty trick in the book and some new ones to. That you fight like an absolute demon.” Cosette just gave a derisive and defiant laugh. Though it was unclear as to whether she was laughing at him or at the galaxy in general.

It was however, a little surprising, when the Captain continued. “But I know there is more to it than that.” He was wearing a wry little smile, which seemed almost to tease Cosette, a dangerous game at the best of time.
“Oh really?” She snapped back. “Are you going to say that really I am an innocent and pure woman under all of this?” But Valerius kept smiling.
“Oh no, you are neither innocent nor pure. You are steeped to your elbows in blood and I am under no illusions about that. But I come from a place not unlike this world. We aren’t quite the same you and I and anyone who uses that, we’re not so different line, is usually trying to con you. But they called me a pirate once to, a killer, a criminal. Then I put on a nice looking uniform and won a war. Do you know what they call me now?”
“What?” Cosette almost spat out the word. But Valerius was still unruffled.
“A hero, a protector, an officer. They call me sir.”

Cosette just laughed, though whether it was in derisive mockery or genuine amusement Valerius could not quite tell. Everything about this pocket sized demon carried a hidden edge to it. Part of him wondered if she would ever stop. If she would ever calm down once she had what she wanted. Then again, had he?
“Well Mr hero!” Jibed Cosette in a manner that was far from friendly. “How does the big white knight feel about what he’s doing?” The Captain’s answer was oddly matter of fact considering how down beat it was.
“Hero is subjective at best. But I am not a white knight, no one is. Anyone who claims to be one is lying to themselves and the world. Knights kill people, it’s what they do. Even when defending others. It’s difficult to stay white when you can’t wash out the blood stains. I’m honest about that fact at least.” But Cosette was starting to loose her patience and toying with the Captain was beginning to bore her.
“My, you are a dramatic little prick! Stop talking and do what you came for!”

With an almost insultingly relaxed gesture Valerius waved a few of his men forward. Two men unloaded a crate from the back of one of the many trucks that had been crawling along behind the walking Valerius and plonked it heavily on the floor in front of their Captain. A third man inputted a short alpha numeric code and the case cracked open with the slight his of air tight seals breaking.

The lid folded back to reveal quite normal looking warheads, but those in the know could recognise the make and model markings. These were Omega Hull Melter missiles. They were not used as standard combat weapons, usually the Omega forces used well engineered missiles that, despite their artisanal construction, still worked on the same basic principles as every other ship to ship missile. The Hull Melter started out as a way of taking ships out of action rather than destroying them. It was a cheap and efficient way of forcing ships back to the repair yard, or at least taking them out of the lines for a few days.

It’s warhead was not filled with explosives or shrapnel but rather an incredibly corrosive chemical cocktail that had only been refined over the years of manufacturing these nasty little things. They would eat away at a ship’s hull burning open holes into space and it was a reaction that just kept on going. It was a hungry little concoction, which as a side effect of the chemical reaction created a chocking cloud that corrupted the lungs and burned the eyes, a near gaseous mist of a similar chemical that was a marginally watered down version of the first. This mist would drift until it come into contact with something else metal and the whole process would start again, becoming weaker with every reaction until it was eventually harmless. The whole process took time, meaning in the heat of battle the instant result of a conventional missile was often preferable. But it would often force a ship into repairs. Partly because the overall damage was usually greater but also because it was near impossible to get rid of. You think you had all contained and removed and then a few hours later a bulkhead failed because you missed a spot and the whole thing began again. Often times the only way was to take the ship into a safe spot, pull the crew from their stations and scour every crack and crevice from prow to stern.

Indeed, point defence systems were of limited effectiveness against a Hull Melter. Blowing up a normal missile a half second before it impacted on your hull rendered the weapon useless. Blow up a Hull Melter in the same place, you are still getting a corrosive shower. Of course carrying such weapons aboard came with a risk. Two of the key elements were not mixed until the weapon was fired, guarding against a great many potential accidents. But there was still the chance a Hull Melter could be destroyed just upon leaving its launch tube, showing its home ship in the deadly spray. As a result of which the Omega engineers coated their ships in a protective chemical, a protective chemical which could readily be copied by other nations if they ever got hold of a sample. The problem was it flaked off armour like dry skin, making it almost useless. Even hard turns threatened to strip away the protection. Which is why a closely guarded chemical secret of Omega was how they managed to blend it into the paint they coated their ships with.

But what mattered now was that these devastating warheads were being delivered into the hands of the most infamous pirate in the stars, and Valerius wasn’t done yet. Waving more men forward another case was opened to reveal thermonuclear warheads, capable of being mounted on larger missiles and rockets. These were used in the most important of ship to ship battles and now Cosette was being given them by the truck load and still more came. Another soldier opened what looked like a brief case to reveal the activation keys for an array of ryders. Cosette’s grin had turned from mocking to hungry. She was almost salivating at the display being laid out in front of her.
“My my, don’t you know how to treat a lady?” She said, not even looking at the Captain but instead lifting a nuclear warhead gently up in her hands.

“Omega sends her regards.” Valerius said smiling, even laughing slightly at the change which had come over the pocket sized daemon. But suddenly her mood soured, taking an aggressive step forward she locked eyes with the Captain, trying to bore into his soul.
“What’s the cost?” She asked suspiciously.
“There is none, save for not pointing those things at us.” Replied the Captain by way of reassurance, only to be met by disbelief.
“Bullshit, there’s always a cost. You claim to have come from a world like this, then you would know nothing s ever free.” Spite was edging back into the Captain, angerd by the thought she might be being lied to. But the Captain remained calm.
“I’m not going to pretend Omega doesn’t benefit from this, PACT benefits too. But it’s not going to cost you a penny or an ounce of that freedom you so desire. I want you to keep doing what you’re doing. I just want you to do it well.”
“And what is it you want me to keep doing?” She asked with a sneer that was as much threat as it was mockery.
“I want you to kill Imperialists, I want you to kill Alliance dogs, I want you to bring the mining corporation to its knees.” For once in this conversation Cosette wasn’t the only person here seized by bitterness and cold rage. Valerius appeared to have it under control. But it showed. “Everyone else wants to enslave you with tit bits of food, medicine and water. Trick you into thinking they are your friend but they will never let you be free. Power and force of arms is what makes you free. I’m helping you to have that freedom, do with it what you will. But I sure as hell hope you make those Emerald swine pay.”
“Oh, I can do that.” Replied Cosette with a sadistic grin, enjoying herself a little bit again now. But the mere fact she was having fun was no reassurance to anyone who had read her file. “But what makes you think these weapons will not turn on you one day?”
“Because it will never be to your advantage, you’re wild, not an idiot. This world can be free, sell us your resources at a price of your choosing or use them yourself. We won’t give you provocation. But if you attack us anyway, if you start raiding our convoys we will come down here and stamp your head in so hard your eyes burst out.”

There was the flinch of movement up above as Cosette’s thugs seemed to brace for a fight after the Captain’s threat, but the pirate lord just laughed, long and hearty, giving her crew pause.
“My, my, you are a confident little son of a bitch aren’t you?” The adding after a pause. “I wonder if you would still be so cocky when I have a knife twisting in your gut? I’d love to see you say that again as it slowly turns inside you.” She was as threatening as ever, but there was a certain element of mirth rather than intimidation behind her words now. This was probably about as friendly as this little murder got.

Valerius laughed a little himself at her words, and it was not the nervous titter of poorly concealed fear. He was amused by this woman, and almost regretful that he would not get to see her put these weapons to use. But he had business to attend to, and his work here was done.
“I am afraid I have to leave you now. I am due to leave orbit shortly.” Cosette smiled like a starved wolf sighting a limping deer.
“Kill some of those fuckers for me won’t you oh noble Captain.” Her reference to his nobility may have been edged with sarcasm. But her wish for him to kill was not.
“Gladly.” Came his even but obviously sincere reply.

A short while later, back on the Elysian they were making final preparations to cast off. When Valerius began pacing down the ramp of his shuttle before it had even finished opening the whole way, he could see a hive of activity before him. All of the internal hanger doors and moving walls that were often closed when out on patrol to limit the damage cause by any catastrophe, were currently hanging open to allow for easier loading and unloading of supplies. A recently erected series of cage like scaffolds were now bolted onto the ceiling containing crate after crate of drones whilst new terminals were being installed in the flight control room to operate them. The Elysian was always meant to carry ryders, but not drones. It had always been assumed the Elysian would not operate in isolation and that drone boats would be nearby to support her. Now that this was clearly not going to be the case Valerius had ordered the hasty dispatch of a large drone consignment to his ship. Omega’s use of drones was another hangover from the revolutionary war. With exceptionally limited access to ryders and ships, and not having control of a space port for some time the revolutionaries had come to rely on the relatively resource light use of drones. Fitting them out with innovative packages of equipment and software that, depending on load out, allowed them to serve as everything from repair tools to long range scouts, from censor decoys to conventional fighters, mobile mines to jammers. Normally drones were deployed via armoured tubes like missile bays. But there was no time to modify the superstructure, so the main hanger door would have to do for now.

Meanwhile, the ship’s ryders hung in their maintenance rigs, crew clambering about them like ants on a nest. Near the centre of it all two raised voices could just be made out above the sound of welding torches and hammering.
“The ryder will tear itself apart!” Cried out one of the voices, it belonged to a rather frustrated looking chief ryder engineer. He was wearing his works overalls with a tool belt so overloaded it looked as though it were about the rip itself apart under the weight of all of his gadgets.
“If you have some wet behind the ears pilot who’s just come out of basic!” Retorted the other voice. This belonged to Titus Asellio, a slightly short man standing at about five and a half feet tall he had a somewhat off putting appearance. His skin was yellow, deeper than any case of jaundice, and his eyes were similarly tinted and permanently bloodshot in a crisscrossing network of veins. His hair was a strange, semi translucent, pale brown. Chunks of his scalp lay open where no hair would grow. He served as reminder that not everyone got off of Omega as intact as Valerius. But more than that, he was a damn good pilot. One of the best, problem was he knew it and felt everyone else ought to as well.

Stalking over to the duo Valerius intervened, he had seen this before, they would be here for hours if he didn’t.
“What’s this all about?” Upon hearing their Captain’s voice both men span to face him and smartly saluted, a gesture Valerius returned in a slightly more relaxed manner, as allowed by his rank. But he was also familiar with these two men, though he had known Titus by reputation long before he met him in the flesh.
“This ignorant grease monkey wants to install a non by passable power gradation device on the new RX4 limb thrusters!” Titus was as blunt and disrespectful as ever. Whenever the conversation turned away from ryders he would stay quiet and bow to the wisdom of others. But when it came to his favourite armoured battle frames he was convinced he was amongst the top ten aces in the universe, a likely exaggerated claim, and would not tolerate anyone trying to interfere. Even this distinguished engineer, an crewman Titus had specifically requested as one of the best around. Valerius often found it beyond aggravating that Titus would so often and so fiercely quarrel with a man that was here specifically for Titus. Worse still, Valerius knew that Titus would miss his favourite ignorant grease monkey if he ever went away. But for the moment this argumentative display was met almost warmly by the strung out Captain. It was a moment of normalcy amongst a few days of terrible turbulence.

Taking a moment to try and pause and collect himself, the frustrated engineer eventually managed to reply.
“He wants instantaneous deployment of full thrust on command. The RX4 has almost twice the power of the RX3 and can deploy it far faster. It can give maximum force in an instant. No pilot can keep up with those changes and that kind of power might just rip ryder limbs clean off if not managed properly.” The man was clearly trying to show restraint, an effort that Titus was not willing to make.
“My pilots aren’t rookies and that spike in individual limb and whole frame acceleration will save lives. You expect to be able to get out of the way of supersonic attacks without that kind of a kick in your engine?”

Valerius knew this could drag on for hours without resolution. Sometimes it was almost like a spectator sport, and a bloody one to. But for now time was short, the vessel would be under way in mere hours.
“Install the RX4 thrusters with the power gradation device, but put an option through to the cockpit for the pilot to turn it off once they are clear of the hanger. If they think they can handle it they are welcome to try. If they misjudge it and get it wrong….” He didn’t want to finish that sentence because he knew it ended in, they will die. That last word caused him to stall for a moment, but only very briefly. Turning to Titus he jutted a firm and authoritative finger at the man. “And you make damn sure to tell your fly boys the risk. They’re good. They are not immortal.”

With the law laid down Valerius began to make his way to the bridge, he was surprised when he heard a second pair of feet coming up to walk beside him.
“You usually let us go on for a bit longer than that Captain.” Came the raspy voice of his chief pilot, vocal cords scathed by years of subtle corrosion. “Is everything quite well?”
“Yes, quite well, squadron leader.” Dismissed Valerius, keen to have this conversation with as few a people as possible. Having it with Marcus was quite enough. But Titus had been with the Captain since the Elysian was launched. Nowhere near as long as Marcus but as a senior officer Titus felt he could be perhaps a little more personable that the majority of the crew. But for now Valerius was not prepared to allow anyone else indulge in this line of questioning.

But Titus was not picking up on the signs.
“I heard about Mordechai, I never met him but I heard he was a good man. I’m sorry.” Valerius had been trying to push such thoughts to the back of his head. He did not appreciate them being brought back to the fore. But he could not be justifiably angry at a man who was only trying to be kind.
“Your condolences are appreciated. But if you want to do something about it. You can provide a far more valuable service.” Said the Captain curtly, trying to conceal his frustration but not entirely succeeding.
“What would that be Captain? What Can I do?” Asked the Squadron leader, his one malting eyebrow raised in sympathy. The Captain for his part stopped, turned and coldly looked Titus dead in the eyes.
“Kill them Squadron Leader. Kill every last man of them.”

With that the Captain walked away, leaving an almost stunned Titus behind him. Eventually Valerius reached the bridge. Marcus was his usual self, idly pacing between the ranks of crew at their stations. An experienced eye deftly going over their work, a holo pad in one hand, a perpetually steaming cup of coffee in the other.
“How are we looking number one?” Asked Valerius, still walking up to his old comrade, hands clasped behind his back.
“Better shape than we were sir, not as good as we could be.” Marcus’s deadpan humour did little to conceal the truth of his words. “The hull is completely patched. Fore turret is functional again. But the port side scythe laser is non-operational. Only internal components need to be finalised however, we can fix it on the move. The Defiance cannon is going to be harder. A fracture ran right down the top side rail. We have to replace the whole rail. We were able to extract the damaged rail over Ongess through our prow. But the replacement part only arrived yesterday. We put it back in through the prow. It’s in place. But none of the connections are ready, she isn’t moored thoroughly enough for firing. It could be weeks before that thing is operational.” Valerius had to laugh, what else could he do?
“Going into enemy territory two weapons down? We have faced worse before.” There was another little chuckle between the two men but it was devoid of any real myrth.

Eventually a silence fell upon the two men, their minds drifting to dark places. After a long while the Captain said in an almost distracted fashion.
“Vibiana.” He seemed to be trying to hold something imaginary in his fingers that kept slipping away as he tried to remember. “Was that her name?”
“Back on Omega?” Asked Marcus, mildly confused. “Yes that was her name. Nice girl.” Marcus seemed to want to continue, but he just fell into an odd silence again.
“Last message run off ship is in an hour. Drop her a line.” It was worded like an order, but the tone was very casual, matter of fact almost.
“Sir? There is some work….” But Valerius interrupted him.
“I can manage an hour without you. Send her a message.” The inference from Valerius’ words, his tone, the look on his face. Was that Marcus might not get another chance. Seeing this Marcus just nodded his understanding and walked away. Whilst Valerius cast his eyes to the stars. Towards what might well be his end, or the beginning of his revenge.