> Godless, meteoric war
> Anger, our existence nevermore
> You awoke the giants who were dormant in the sky
> Comets raining death from a fiery eye
> Mother of all, your time is coming
> One with eternity
> When planets collide
Avenged Sevenfold - “Planets”
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Admiral Matevosian’s task force exploded with fire, hurling bolts of antimatter at the Khonhim fleet. The enemy had a choice...they could ignore the incoming fusillade, and direct their weapons at Mars itself, or they take up defensive positions and return fire. Bombarding the planet would leave their flanks vulnerable, and as long as they focused on the incoming threat, Mars would be safe. Attempting to do both would buy them the worst of both worlds. They’d get some licks in, but not enough to do them any good before his own ships tore them apart. Ouri almost hoped they’d make the attempt, but the Khonhim commander was far too canny for that. The enemy fleet not only swung around to face the human ships but charged forward to meet them in battle, a swarm of missiles and cannon fire arcing away. Chatter between the Tetrarchy ships increased as they refined their targets, while gunners and their computer systems fought to swat away as much of the incoming fire as they could.
The Starfires danced and weaved, seeking their targets with deadly precision. They didn’t pack anywhere near the punch the battlecruisers did but given their agility, they were also much harder to hit. They raced forward as well, seeking the Khonhim lead elements, and Admiral Matevosian drummed away on his armrest as he watched the battle unfold.
Because something about the enemy’s formation was wrong, somehow.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was nagging him. Had he been in command of the Khonhim fleet he would have held his range open, counting on his superior numbers to whittle down the humans as they closed in. It was possible their commander was bold and given what they knew of the Khonhim warrior culture that was a possibility, but…
...it just didn’t feel right.
Why are they coming on so aggressively? he wondered. Sure, closing the distance improved their hit probabilities, but that sword cut both ways. His odds would increase as well, and given their respective rates of fire, the closer they got the more the balance would swing in his favor. So why do it? By all appearances, they were still building up speed, and at this rate, they could tally the engagement envelope in mere seconds. Unless they began decelerating soon, they’d end up blowing right past them, and…
“...oh my God,” he whispered, as the realization struck home.
His finger mashed down the com button. “This is Matevosian to the fleet. Reverse course immediately. Mars was just a decoy, the enemy still intends to strike at Earth, using our own momentum against us.” They’d sucked him out of position, and now they would charge straight for Earth, with his task force chasing behind. They wouldn’t be able to linger in orbit for a full bombardment, but they’d get quite a few blows in even in passing. If they targeted the major population centers, they could kill billions.
The fleet responded to his command, flipping their ships end-over-end and burning hard to reverse course, but even with their advanced drive systems, they were still bound by the laws of Newton. The Delta-v required to double back the way they’d came took time to overcome...time they did not have.
And even worse, now their weapons were pointed away from the enemy.
The Khonhim commander must have been waiting for this maneuver, and took full advantage of it, raking the task force in a deadly broadside as it blew through their formation. The battlecruisers Spatha and Baselard staggered and tumbled out of position, their speed dropping off as their captains struggled to save their ships. The Khonhim didn’t have to destroy them...all they had to do was slow them down.
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And it forced him to leave them behind, in the race for Earth.
The engagement hadn’t been one-sided, watching with grim satisfaction as a handful of Khonhim vessels were hit as well. He could spare no time to deal with the cripples, instead passing orders for his own wounded ships to deal with enemy left behind. There was still the possibility they could limp back to Mars and finish what they’d started...and in the cruel formula of war, Earth had to take priority over the Martian colony.
The Khonhim ships were still pulling away from his task force as they struggled to overcome their initial disadvantage in momentum, as he passed on his orders. “All ships are to target the enemies propulsion systems. I don’t care if they can still fight, as long as they can’t run.” A fresh barrage of fire went chasing after the dwindling vessels, with the task force burning hard on its heels. At least the bulk of the Khonhim’s weapons systems were now pointed away from the task force, though at the moment he found it to be small comfort.
An angry red icon appeared on his display, and he winced as he reached out to respond. The Governor-General’s haggard visage appeared on the screen. “How long do we have?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
“Not long,” Matevosian said. “Ten minutes...maybe fifteen, if we can slow them down. No more than that.”
“Understood,” Granville replied, his face carved from stone. “Planetary defenses are standing by. We’ll try to hold them off until you arrive.” By the sound of his voice, it was obvious the Governor wasn’t holding out a great deal of hope that it would be enough.
With good reason.
“We’re only four minutes behind them, Sir,” Admiral Matevosian vowed. “If you can target their weapons, it might be enough.”
The Governor managed a wan smile. “We’ll do our best, Admiral,” he said gently...even though both men knew full well they were just whistling past the graveyard. “Good luck, Admiral. See you soon.”
“And you as well,” he said in hushed tones, his words sounding like a prayer, as the screen went dark.
Ten minutes. The blink of an eye. Barely enough time to wolf down a simple meal. A quick trip to the nearby market. A brief shower.
Not nearly enough time to say goodbye to the ones you love.
The Tetrarchy ships fought to wring out every joule of thrust from their engines, violating every safety protocol on the books. Matevosian watched as the ETA was continually revised…3.85 minutes...3.72 minutes...3.66 minutes. They used every trick they could think of to narrow the gap.
It just wasn’t enough.
At 3.57 minutes, the Khonhim fleet was at last within range of Earth. The orbital defenses went to automatic fire, splitting their munitions across the entire armada. They just needed a few lucky hits to slow them down, to buy time for the task force...and several of the enemy ships took enough damage to put them out of the fight. The armada sought out and destroyed the weapon satellites, one by one...the last going offline at 2.26 minutes.
Somehow, the human task force was able to shave a few more seconds off their ETA, slamming into the Khonhim fleet with a ferocity not seen since the days of Genghis Khan. No quarter was asked, and none was given. The ships under Admiral Matevosian’s command fought to save their world, hurling their own vessels into the enemy like the kamikazes of old, when there was nothing left in their armories to fire. Shattered hulks drifted throughout the battle zone, dark and lifeless, at the end of Matevosian’s ride. Through the stubborn tenacity that had defined humanity since the dawn of time, Earth had survived.
Though not unscathed.
Matevosian waved off the corpsman trying to tend to his wounds, as Kestrel’s crippled computer systems crashed and rebooted, while he fought to survey the damage. The distinctive mushroom-shaped clouds dotted the landscape, as a list of obliterated cities began to appear on his cracked display.
Beijing
Seoul
Kyoto
Toronto
Chicago
Detroit
Cairo
Benghazi
Algiers
Santiago
Buenos Aires
Montevideo
Kiev
Vienna
Munich
…Geneva
“...Sir.”
Admiral Matevosian turned to face the voice. Kestrel’s captain, her arm in a crude sling, her uniform singed and bloodstained, stared at him with hollow eyes. “Sir...who is in charge, now?” she asked in shock.
He could only stare at the cloud over Geneva, the city chosen long ago as Earth’s capitol…that had once housed the official residence of the Governor-General.
“...I don’t know,” he whispered.