Chapter 34
“Luminary, the armada has collapsed the second defense perimeter.” The blue-skinned officer tapped the keyboard at his station. “There also appears to be a mass of black matter moving directly behind it.”
The Luminary stalked across the pristine metallic bridge of the Centaurian Flagship, Procyon, the command center for the Galaxis defenses. On the holo-screen, the armada assaulted his forces at ten-to-one odds. Despite the rows of ships stretching thousands of miles, he seemed more concerned with the newly found black matter.
“A Stygian cloud,” he announced. The mass encompassed the entire background of the screen. “Pure negative energy capable of draining any ship's energy like a sponge. I have never seen one so immense. But where did it come from? Draw all forces to your mark. Do we have any reinforcements coming?”
“Negative Luminary,” the officer responded.
“Then we are on our own.” The Luminary shook his head. “Move to flank. I want to get a closer look at that cloud.”
The Procyon closed on the enemy position, settling between the cloud and the armada. “Do you see?” The Luminary gasped. “Their fighters are recharging on the galaxy class supply ships. Diobal must be providing the power to them. If we retreat to the perimeter of Mars, the armada will strengthen for its ultimate attack on the Earth.” The Luminary had seen enough. “We must cut off their ability to recharge. Channel attacks on the supply vessels, now. Coordinate with our allies.”
“Yes, Luminary.”
On his command, the fighters and galaxy class starships shifted to the offensive. Thousands of Lemurian star-seeds, teardrop shaped, single pilot craft, worked as a coordinated unit, striking with lethal precision. They were followed by the larger Sirian dog fighters, saucer like vessels capable of delivering immense charges of nuclear energy in rapid bursts. They punched holes in the armada’s ranks, minor disruptions, rapidly replaced by an endless stream of enemy fighters. The Procyon, over three miles long and a mile wide, housed over a hundred thousand crew. Equipped with over thirty classes of spacecraft, from unmanned xeno-fighters to multi-crew, mid-galaxy-class ships. The Centaurian flagship could match most planets’ firepower by itself, but today, the entire Galaxis fleet was severely over-matched by the apocalyptic force of the Hate Bringer.
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“Luminary, we are directly in between the cloud and the armada. No sign of Bane’s ship.”
“Continue to attack the rear.” the Luminary’s eyes scanned the array of screens for a weakness. “We take this fight to him.”
“Luminary?” the officer muttered.
“Yes. What… is-” The Luminary’s words trailed. The stygian cloud swirled, blooming like a dahlia of destruction. Bane’s galactic behemoth, a grotesque malformation of twisted metal and corrupt crystal, over five times the size of the Procyon, emerged from the depths of the black matter. Both magnificent and hideous, the hexagonal warship cast waves of despair across the cosmic battlefield. In a display of its vastness, a galaxy class Terovian starship, the size of a stadium, rose from one of its numerous decks. The storm boiled around Diobal like an octopus emerging from its ink cloud, stalking the Centaurian starship.
“It is inside the black matter. How… unless… it is creating the cloud?” The Luminary watched the colossus bearing down on his ship. The Procyon fired from thousands of cannons, enough to destroy a satellite moon, yet had no effect on Diobal’s massive hull.
“It is creating the negative energy. Cease the attack!” The Luminary ordered. “Pull back.” For hundreds of smaller fighters, the warning came too late, consumed by the black matter. Others retreated, scattering out of the battle formation. The distance between the two space monoliths closed rapidly. The Luminary stormed across the bridge, his eyes trained on the screens. The ship rumbled and tilted.
“Luminary. Its tractor beam. It has us,” the communications officer called as the lights inside the Procyon flickered.
“That is no tractor beam; that is black matter, pulling us in like a black hole. Divert all power to thrusters.” The Luminary stared at the primary screen. The smoldering cloud of ebony vortexes swirled from Diobal’s center, its vine-like tentacles coiling around the Centaurian flagship.
The Procyon quaked savagely, metal twisting as the shadowy pitch crept into the bridge, short circuiting breakers until the screens blinked to black. The bridge flipped sideways, crew members screamed, crashing against the walls. Darkness flooded the chamber like liquid hate, crushing inward.
The Luminary, his body broken, climbed to his knees and tapped the control panel in a pattern he hoped he never would. Wisps of shade slithered between his fingers as he pushed the last key.
“Light preserve our souls!” The Procyon exploded with the ferocity of a thousand nuclear blasts. The nova level explosion, visible across the solar system, could have destroyed an entire planet, but the negative energy flowing through the cloud was a force beyond the physical realm. Diobal floated from the explosion, unharmed, while the armada’s fighters emerged as if they had never even been near the detonation. The Luminary had been left with the choice: allow Centaurian souls to be lost in a pyre of black madness or choose their natural course in death. He chose wisely.