Ping cut the link, leaning back in the command couch. He’d served under David for three years now, and he’d come to respect David as an excellent captain and a talented strategist and brilliant tactician. But certain things didn’t seem to add up. The fact that he was also one of the most, if not the most, skilled swordsman he had ever seen. The fact that he had glimpsed a warblade, the sacred, almost mythical weapon of the Paladins, in the captain’s quarters once. And of course, the fact that he never seemed to age a day. The only conclusion was that David was both a Paladin and an Immortal. Ping never questioned David over this, respecting the captain’s wishes. But sometimes he wondered ... if David was an Immortal ... than what about the ship itself? He knew rumours of the ships, fighters and Combat Frames that survived the final battle with the Enskeleons. Sentient weapons, capable of thinking and acting for themselves, prioritizing the survival of their pilots above all else. If the captain was an Immortal, could the ship itself be...
“Lieutenant!” Taylor yelled, cutting right across Ping’s train of thought.
Ping called out, “What is it, Taylor?”
“Contacts, sir! Lots of them, Shivan! Reading at least four destroyers, ten cruisers, five corvettes and one unidentified ship, weight mass exceeding that of any know Shivan destroyer, including the Lucifer.”
Ping shot up. “Sathanas?” he asked, barely keeping the fear from his voice. The small allied fleet would be hard pressed to delay any Shivan Juggernaught, much less stop it.
“Negative sir. Weight mass too low for positive identification of Shivan Juggernaughts. They’re exiting the portal now!” Taylor said.
The bridge crew looked out the viewport, at the swirling sapphire nexus of energies. Before their eyes, the Shivan fleet exited the portal, arrayed neatly around the unknown ship. The ship resembled one of their Nahema bombers, albeit on a much larger scale. The middle of the ship had four ‘claws’ were curved inward, and the base of the claws had a quartet of spikes each. As the ship cleared the portal, waves of fighters and bombers launched from the ship, a veritable swarm of insects, although far more dangerous than any insect alive.
Then, the spikes glowed, and ruby energy flowed down the spikes, then curved down the claws, coalescing in a pulsing red sphere, which shimmered dangerously. The sphere pulsed again, and a massive beam of ruby energy stormed forth, vaporising any and all objects in its path.
“High energy source detected! It’s targeting us!” Taylor screamed.
“Evade!” Ping commanded.
“Too late!” Taylor screamed again.
Without warning, a blindingly blue flare erupted just before the beam struck the Dagger, as the Perolynn activated its shield generator. The flare dimmed, then brightened again, as the Perolynn shunted more and more energy into the generator. Just as the beam faded away, the space around the fleet shimmered and turned translucent, as the Perolynn changed the shield morphed into a bubble shield. While the bubble field effectively stopped any fire coming in, it also stopped fire from going out, and also cut off the Tyreans from accessing W-Space.
Ping let out the breathe he had not known he was holding, then tapped the button, activating the link to the Perolynn. The screen shimmered with static for an instant, then connected. The captain was in a space suit, and Ping instantly knew the situation was dire. A few minutes later, he straightened. The Perolynn, in order to protect the fleet, was now effectively useless in combat, with fire control, combat sensory and life support just a few of the systems take off in order to flood the shield generator with sufficient power to morph the shield into a bubble shield.
“Contact captain David,” Ping ordered.
“I ... can’t, sir,” Taylor reported.
“What? Why not ?” Ping demanded.
“I don’t know, sir. We’re not getting a signal from any of them, including the three transports that went in with them. The medical monitors are also reading flat lines across the board,” Taylor said.
“Well, keep trying, damnit!” Ping snapped at the ensign. With David missing, command of the task force would fall to the GTVA Admiral, who had little opportunity to prove himself thus far. The records they had pulled from the GTVA mainframe on Enif Station showed he had a distinguished career most recently marred by drinking problems. He rubbed his chin, then opened a channel to Chekoff, explaining what happened, and what the Perolynn had done, as well as the current inability of the Tyrean fleet to enter W-Space, meaning they were essentially trapped within the bubble shield. He also added that he had lost all contact with David inside the Belial. Chekoff leaned back, considering what Ping had told him.
“You cannot access your W-space, correct? Yet our subspace drives are perfectly functional, indicating we are able to leave this shield... We must find a way to warn the GTVA, and see to that monster out there ...” Chekoff scratched his beard distractedly. “Tell me... Your ... Combat Frames, that is what they are called yes? How much space do they take up, and do they require special launching equipment?”
Ping blinked.“Eh? Well ... The Frames are generally about 20 – 25 high, but their weight varies. The lightest ones are about 40 tons, while the heaviest are close to a hundred and twenty tons. They generally launch from catapults that propel them to a suitable combat speed, but they can do standing launches if it comes to it.”
“Hmmm. I see. Let me consider something. I will contact you again shortly,” Chekoff said, then disconnected.
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My inspiration is dying on me. It's poking me to do a fantasy story, or one based on ground combat.
