If Lieutenant Commander Bahir could sweat, the onslaught of seemingly never-ending, wholly replaceable and forgettable ships that hounded Britannia as she leapt across Risa’s orbit would be enough to make him as damp as a Selayan oyster. Small mercies kept his palms dry as he allowed his practised neurons to fire faster than his conscious thought, summoning battle tactics and combat manoeuvres before he could muster up the words.
A small pulse of light in the corner of his console signalled that the next set of shield modifications was ready from Engineering, as the team worked tirelessly beneath decks to keep the ship safe. His finger was already over the button as his eyes caught the red pulse of light, and a barely audible buzz indicated the algorithm had been deployed before he could think to move his finger a micron. The long top bar that indicated the ship’s shield capacity slowed its crawl for another few moments, and Bahir allowed himself a slight breath of relief at the respite.
“4 more vessels have joined the attack formation,” Tanek announced from his temporary station at the XO chair.
“How many is that in total?” Harrison did not even turn her head towards tactical, but Bahir knew the question was aimed at him.
“We are engaged with nine active vessels, four disabled,” Bahir answered wth a small tinge of pride. The first two ships had quickly been separated and isolated once it was clear that a protracted conflict was underway, but the ships kept coming, and Bahir was running out of tricks in his deck.
“There is something strange about these vessels.” Tanek allowed one of his large, prominent eyebrows to rise onto his vast forehead. “They are not in the common records.”
“There are plenty of unusual configurations-” Harrison began, but Tanek cut her off with only the authority of his division position as his shield.
“Agreed, but these vessels are uniform in their strangeness.”
“There’s nothing in the library?” Had anyone been focusing closely, they may have noticed the twitch of Harrison’s temple in frustration. Not that any of the crew would betray her steely reputation by admitting they had witnessed such a thing.
“Not the ship library, and I can’t get anything from central resources.” Tanek thumped the top of the screen lightly in a vain attempt to connect to the central repository aboard Risa Control.
“Another subspace aperture is opening, Captains.” A gangly Orion officer announced from the science station.
“That makes three now.” Bahir fought off the chill of panic that was slowly bubbling under the deck plates. His nearby colleagues were less successful, and the ragged rhythm of panicked breaths was beginning to rise above the din of battle. “We are soon to be significantly outnumbered.”
The bar of shield strength tipped over the number twenty-five and began to flash urgently.
“We can’t just keep swatting at flies,” Harrison mused as she squinted at the tactical map on the viewscreen, a lake of deepening crimson swarming over the rectangular screen.
“There! What’s that?” She pointed with a long, gnarled finger towards a particularly long blade of crimson that drifted from the newest underspace opening, a slender slip of calm in the storm of swirling razor winds of enemy vessels.
“A large vessel, seven hundred and fifty metres long. I’m detecting large artillery emplacements on its flanks.” The Orion science officer confirmed, isolating and enlarging the scan data in a small pop-up window.
All eyes swung to the screen as a hazy image of an unfamiliar ship phased in and out of existence through the interference. Its sides bristled with cruel-looking cannon weaponry, ranks of great trebuchets designed to tear open the fabric of space as if it were simply skipping stones across the pond.
“It is bringing itself to bear on Risa Control.” Tanek was quickly joining the ranks of worried officers who littered the bridge. “They won’t survive more than a couple of volleys. Presumably, they’ll then turn it on the planet’s surface.”
A communal gulp replaced the ragged breaths of the weary crew.
Harrison finally stood from her seat and took several short steps to the front of the small dias that formed the central command of the bridge, her ire finally stirred by the behemoth’s appearance.
“Is anyone nearby?” She asked calmly.
“Io is engaged, and Sirona is too far off, engaged in orbit with a number of transports,” Bahir confirmed. “Aldrin is between here and there.”
“Call them up,” Harrison commanded as Tanek rose to stand beside her.
“You intend to mount an attack?” He whispered beneath his breath.
“I am done with dancing with the courtiers. I want to mambo with the King.” Harrison’s eyes narrowed with a hard-won confidence as she rubbed her knuckles, causing a ground-rending crack to cut across the dull din of the shaking deck. “We cannot allow that ship to open fire on the base.”
“We’ll have to get through that ring of escort vessels.” Tanek looked at the woman nervously.
“We just have to make a hole.”
Harrison returned to her chair, a wicked grin etching across her stony face as Commander Mayvilis’ face appeared on the screen, her long hair framing her face in wild curls, the empty bridge behind her crewed with sparks and plumes of smoke.
“Mayvilis, how good is your driving?”