Sors salutis Fate is against me et virtutis in health michi nunc contraria, and virtue, est affectus driven on et defectus and weighted down, semper in angaria. always enslaved. Hac in hora So at this hour sine mora without delay corde pulsum tangite; pluck the vibrating strings; quod per sortem since Fate sternit fortem, strikes down the strong, mecum omnes plangite! everyone weep with me!
Carl Orff - “O Fortuna”
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“...getting into the system was the easy part,” Fleet Admiral Matevosian advised the other leaders, linked in by com, “the Machines wanted us here. Phalanx may have caught them by surprise, but I can guarantee you they’re regrouping as we speak.”
“Let them come,” Jiyazh Ghuuyaz growled. “The sooner they attack, the sooner we finish this.”
“That we have won a single battle is not sufficient reason to become overconfident,” General Nassat cautioned the Khonhim leader. “May I remind you that this was the first battle against them where we were not soundly defeated?”
“And what of Operation Bankshot?” he reminded them. “Surely that was a victory.”
“It also wasn’t a battle,” Matevosian snapped. “You threw a rock at them, and they got out of the way. Doesn’t count.”
“He’s right,” Admiral Otxoa agreed. “Say whatever else you want about them; they’re not stupid. They got knocked back on their heels, but I’m positive they’re getting ready for Round 2.”
The Dhyaksh took the rebukes in stride, but it was obvious their arguments had fallen on deaf ears. In his mind, the battle was all but won.
“What is our next move?” Nassat asked.
“If the enemy retreats out of the system, we’ll have a problem on our hands,” the Fleet Admiral grimaced. “We have no idea where they’ll fall back to, and when they return, they’ll be loaded for bear. Should they attempt to flee, they are to be hunted down at all costs.”
They shared several uncomfortable looks before Otxoa asked, “And if they stand their ground?”
“In that case, Task Force Alpha will move to pin their fleet against the planet itself,” he explained, “while Task Force Bravo will make for orbit and begin the bombardment while searching for the underground bunker system Dhyaksh Ghuuyaz’s interrogation has disclosed. Until we can locate that and cripple their fleet, we’re in a holding pattern.”
“Then let us hope we locate their hidden lair quickly,” Jiyazh chuckled, “as I shudder to think of the paperwork awaiting my return.”
The others laughed at his quip before Matevosian wrapped things up. “We kick off in an hour,” he reminded them, “so make damn sure your people are ready. We’re too close now to drop the ball.”
“It shall be as you say,” Nassat nodded, as they broke their connections and prepared for the battle to come.
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Matevosian knew it wouldn’t take long for the machines to react once the fleet got underway. Perhaps they would attempt to draw them in closer before they struck, but they couldn’t afford to wait for too long unless they were willing to concede the system. As they moved forward, he held his breath, waiting for their reaction.
He did not have to wait long.
The machine fleet had hung over Gzuj like a dragon guarding its treasure, but as they approached, it seemed to roil and surge, pulsing with inherent power. The machines gathered their strength, waiting for their moment...
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...and then exploded.
Not the ships themselves, but the formation. Like a dandelion puffball in a stiff breeze, they scattered in every direction, dispersing the fleet into individual ships on independent trajectories. Matevosian stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what the machines were up to. By disbanding their fleet they had robbed themselves of both their offensive and defensive power, leaving them vulnerable. For a moment he thought they were preparing to run, but that made no sense either. Without the mutual support of their formation, they would run their ships down like prey. It was insane, it was stupid, it was…
...the Fleet Admiral’s jaw dropped as they began to arc around, coming at the Alliance formation from every direction.
“All ships, Fire!” he shouted, realizing too late what the machines had done. By scattering their ships, they had robbed them of a target while racing towards their exposed flanks. The Khonhim hurried to respond as they had before, but to destroy this new threat they faced a decision...either remain in formation and be satisfied with a fraction of the kills or scatter themselves and pick up the thrown gauntlet the machines had hurled at them.
The Ronin and Ophipteran’s would have held fast, and even the human forces had learned through bitter experience that sticking together would keep them alive...but for the Khonhim this was a dream come true. It was an honor duel writ large, and even as Matevosian screamed at them to get back in formation their flank security screen dissolved into dozens of individual scraps. The remaining enemy ships wormed their way into the cracks, attacking the ships still in formation at their unprotected stern. With all their combat power pointed in one direction...the mighty Phalanx shattered like glass.
Despite all their preparations...the Furball had come at last.
The fleet descended into chaos as they fought to bring their weapons to bear on the machines, tearing the ordered formation apart. They needed time to pull back, to regroup, to come up with a new stratagem, but the machines refused to give them that time. Matevosian was urging the squadron commanders to take charge of their units, to get them back into order so they could stage a fighting retreat...but even as he howled in frustration a large chunk of the free-for-all split off from the main body, shedding vessels as it made hard for Gzuj.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, “Get back in formation!”...as Dhyaksh Jiyazh Ghuuyaz’s face appeared on the monitor.
“...if we hit the planet now, we may draw them off,” the Khonhim leader advised him. “It is the only chance we have.”
“Goddamn it, get back here!” the Fleet Admiral snarled. “You’re handing them victory on a silver fucking platter!”
The Dhyaksh radiated assurance, despite all that was happening. “You asked me to trust your expertise, Admiral,” Jiyazh said. “I now ask you to trust mine.”
The human and Khonhim stared at one another until Matevosian shook his head. “I hope to hell you know what you’re doing,” he said, as he turned his attention to the rest of the fleet. “Go...before I change my mind,” he barked, blanking the screen as he fought to reestablish control of the ships he had left.
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Nassat looked up as the screen showed Jiyazh’s face. “It will be up to the Tetrarchy vessels, with their antimatter weaponry, to smash the enemy’s installations on the surface,” he cautioned, “while the Khonhim ships cover your run. Time is of the essence, old friend,” he smiled, “so do not tarry.”
“Understood,” the Saurotaur said, “we will make best speed.” The monitor blanked as he began issuing instructions to the squadron leaders, urging them forward.
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Things had gotten worse, not better, with the departure of Task Force Bravo. They fought to pull back, to get clear, to give themselves the breathing space they so desperately needed, but the enemy vessels clung to them like cockleburs, their deadly energy beams hammering them to pieces. The planetary generators they had hauled all the way from friendly territory were now all but useless; with the shield wall broken, the machine vessels maneuvered around them. Losing the Task Force hurt, and while he grasped what the Khonhim was attempting, he also recognized it for the gamble it was.
The only reason he had agreed to Jiyazh’s strategy at all was the simple fact he had nothing better of his own to suggest.
We’re not dead yet, Matevosian thought, as he located a pocket of resistance and ordered the rest of the fleet to converge there. If they could just get some kind of formation put together…anything...it might be enough to stage their retreat.
He switched screens again, as Admiral Otxoa’s harried face appeared. “Adelais, I’m painting one of our ships now,” he informed her, as a beacon lit up on their screens. “All ships are to rally and reform there, while we stage a withdrawal.”
“What about the other Task Force?” she demanded. “I hope you’re not planning on hanging them out to dry.”
“Jiyazh knew the risks when he bolted,” he shot back, “they’re on their own. If we can get back in order again maybe we can relieve them, but until that happens…”
Admiral Otxoa blinked as his image disappeared from the screen...her eyes going wide as the tactical map showed the flagship Minotaur vanishing from existence.