It was Konitz's bad luck that his fleet reached the wreck before the Baron's.
When
Victor received the message — enemy fleet sighted, distress call active
— he gathered all available ships and burned hard toward Rakim's last
known position. The tactical display flickered with hostile signatures.
Debris scattered through the void like splinters of bone.
When the wreckage came into view, Victor's throat tightened. His face red with fury.
Konitz's
fleet — three thousand vessels — moving through the dust and debris of
the reconnaissance fleet the Baron had sent. Victor's eyes narrowed
behind the black glass of his mask. He searched the wreckage for
survivors. Nothing.
There
was no other explanation; there must have been some miscalculation by
Rakim, Victor's hand curled into a fist. oh! Why did I let him go by
himself, he lamented to himself. His childhood friend, the one who
raised him. What was he going to tell his mother? His thoughts spiraled
into rage as the enemy fleet appeared — a dark wall of ships moving into
firing range.
Victor raised his hand. His voice sharpened like sword dragged through whetstone.
"ALL SHIPS -- FIRE!"
Konitz
was not one to run from battle, and he had decided to make a name for
himself. He knew the odds- three thousand ships against ten thousand but
even if he were to die at least he would die standing. Retreating is
the coward's folly.
"Close ranks!" Konitz barked. "Prepare to engage!"
His
fleet condensed into a tight spear formation, thrusters flaring
brightly against the expanse. The Baron's fleet, in contrast, was a
sprawling mess — disorganized and scattered. A predator bloated from
feeding. A careless mistake.
Konitz
watched from the bridge as his ships maneuvered into a tight formation,
alarms began to ring, and the voices called to him from the lower
level.
""
""
""
""
He
shut the damn computer off; there would be losses, he had made peace
with that, but true honor lay in laying down your lives for the country.
If
one were to ask the men on the destroyed ships, they would prefer to be
without honor than without limbs. Of the many ways a ship can be lost,
fusion coil rupture is the most kind.
In
the bowels of the Yamato, a crewman reached for the pistol holstered in
his belt. He couldn't. His belt was next to his legs, and his legs were
on the other end of the corridor. He heard his friend screaming in
agony from the other room as the heat skinned him alive. He would too,
but all that came out was a wet gurgle as blood filled his lungs.
Incidents
like these are what made it so that ships have no cameras in them and
why no serviceman ever fires the final round in his pistol against an
enemy.
Konitz uttered
a rallying cry, and his fleet surged forward — laser batteries firing
in unison. Paired beams of white-hot light lashed across the black.
Armor melted under the heat. Hulls ruptured, spraying molten steel and
boiling atmosphere into space.
The
blackness of space illuminated by lasers energized hundreds of
terawatts, cutting solid titanium hulls like paper and rupturing cores
exploding with the brilliance of a newborn star. Those who watched from
afar must have thought it a paragon of beauty, yet the closer one went,
the more gruesome it would have seemed.
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A
Remiel battleship took a direct hit. The paired beams struck the main
reactor — the hull swelled grotesquely before it erupted, sending shards
of ship and crew spiraling into the dark. A nearby cruiser tried to
adjust course — too late. The wreckage hit the portside engine array,
and the ship spun helplessly before a secondary explosion gutted the
midsection.
The
Konitz fleet had been reduced to half its size in just a few hours. On
the Jin Wa, Baron Remiel watched with cold detachment as the Konitz
fleet flagship came into view...
"Bring down that flagship," he ordered.
Suddenly
a barrage of plasma erupted from the Baron's vanguard, plasma
torpedoes: exotic technology only known to the oldest houses.
Meanwhile, Konitz had realized the battle was lost; the Baron had only lost 700 ships, and they were hopelessly outclassed.
"SIR
INCOMING TORPEDO BARRAGE!" a crewman screamed. Konitz watched in horror
as plasma streaks covered his viewscreen, as his face melted from the
heat he sent a final message to Vyncent's fleet. This would be his only
meaningful contribution to this battle. Konitz felt his skin scald and
melt, his screams turned to incoherent gurgling as the heat melted his
vocal chords. The ship rained molten titanium, and as fusion engines
turned critical, Konitz stopped thinking.
And then the ship became a sun.
The
rest of the fleet, seeing the scalding wreck of Konitz's ship, the
others fled for their lives, Officers trying their best to maintain an
orderly retreat. It was of no use however, the morale of the troops was
shattered and they hastened in their disorderly retreat, The Baron's
fleet, now much better organized, fired volley after volley at the
enemy, picking of stragglers and the damaged ships unable to catch up.
The Konitz fleet was now only one-third of its original strength and in
no position to regroup.
"It
is God's will that all of the pure heart be unified under one banner,
purge the ones who hold malice for mankind in their hearts, purify
humanity like you purify your body"
Johann
entered the room, his face grim, "Sire, the Konitz fleet has been
routed, 2000 ships destroyed, including the flagship, and we cannot
establish contact with the survivors.
Vyncent
reclined in his chair. The leather was black and supple — sourced from a
planet long made barren by the Emperor's great war. He traced a finger
along the polished armrest. It was one of his greatest possessions,
taken during the storming of the Gettysburg fortress.
Vincent
smirked under his mask, "So that old fool got himself killed, did he?"
He said flatly, "It is no issue as long as the enemy is still on track."
"Sire he relayed a final message. Faux-Daj Rakim is dead"
Vyncent's
masked face turned toward him. For the briefest second, Johann saw
something sharpen beneath the surface -- something dangerous.
Then it was gone.
"Relay a message to the mining colonies," Vyncent said. "Activate stealth protocols. Wait for my signal."
Johann hesitated. "My lord?"
Vyncent
stood. The bridge crew adjusted their postures as the admiral passed.
He stood beneath the cold glow of the tactical display.
He
stumbled back as the ships suddenly began accelerating to full speed,
the steady hum of the fusion engines became aggressive as the
gravitational systems adjusted to the sudden change in momentum. Johann
composed himself and made his way towards the bridge.
Vyncent raised the call to arms, and the high powered lasers whined to activation .
"Captain, what is the expected time to contact." Asked Vyncent.
"30 minutes lord admiral," replied the Captain.
"Arm the atomics."
Johann's breath caught. "Sir, atomics are-"
"Arm them."
The
atomics were launched into the mines — fitted with remote detonators.
Johann's face drained of color. His hands trembled as he activated the
tactical controls.
The
bridge was as stunned as he was but the admiral was not to be
disobeyed. The atomics were armed as the enemy fleet came up on radar.
Scouts from the enemy were fired upon, but it was too late anyway as the fleet would approach visual distance in 2 minutes.
He
turned on the command isolation sphere, that enveloped the area around
the admiral's chair so no sound may permeate it either way.
"My lord," he whispered, seemingly the only one who realized Vyncent's plan, "you'll ignite the zephyr."
Vyncent's mask gleamed under the cold light.
"The debris will tear through his formation," Vyncent replied.
Johann
activated the command sphere — cutting off all sound from the rest of
the bridge. "You'll destroy the planet," he hissed. "The zephyr—once it
reacts—"
"Relax," Vyncent said. His voice was calm. "It will work."
"My lord," Johann said. His voice cracked. "The planet below, you'll ruin it for generations
Vyncent's masked face tilted toward him.
