Admiral (Upper Decks) of the Warsteel Sharnat was a Hamaroosan, one of a people with a long martial tradition. From their emancipation from the Lanaktallan to the bitter fighting in the dark years after the Second Precursor the Hamaroosan had never flinched from what had to be done to protect the people of the Confederacy.
Admiral Sharnat had nearly a hundred years in uniform, starting as a fire control officer aboard a light corvette and working her way up to commanding the Third Hamaroosan Expeditionary Fleet. She commanded over a thousand ships, twelve divisions of ships from heavy monitors to light corvettes. All of the ships were modern, all less than a hundred years old, benefiting from the latest in warfare technology and theory. Spherical in construction, providing the least amount of surface area for the most volume, with the most advanced shields and weapons the known universe had to offer.
She was the Confederacy's Will Made Manifest. The warsteel wrapped fist of the Confederacy.
Admiral Sharnat was Hamaroosan.
Her people had faced the Precursor Autonomous War Machines, the Atrekna, the Lanaktallan, and everyone else that had attempted to harm the citizens of the Confederacy. They had a martial tradition and never backed down from a fight.
Which made the taste filling her mouth even more bitter.
"More Hellgates detected!" her fleet tactical officer called out. "Ten, twenty, thirty point sources emerging in the devastator class."
"Any unengaged units nearby?" Sharnat asked.
"Negative, ma'am," tactical answered. "Looks like they're committing to the forces attacking the stellar stabilizers."
Sharnat swore, staring at the holotank. The stellar stabilization system was nearly thirty thousand years old, responsible for ensuring the star used its fuel properly, extending out its lifespan for millions of years.
It was also of Lanaktallan make, which meant it wasn't even due for maintenance beyond preventive maintenance, checks, and services yet.
But the enemy was targeting it, forcing her to split her forces. One group to try to gain stellar geometry superiority, one group to defend the sole inhabited planet, and one group to defend the stellar stabilizers. Thousands of ships per group, the might of the Hamaroosan Space Navy.
The enemy seemed to have endless resources.
"Status of the planet?" she asked.
"Minor landings. They're still using hydrogen fusion nuclear weapons in the ten megaton or higher range on the metropolises," planetary tactical said. "Planetary defense forces are signaling for reinforcement and orbital support."
Sharnat nodded. "We'll do what we can."
The enemy had prioritized hitting her troops transports as they headed for the planet. It wasn't that their weapons were overpowered.
It was that there was so many of them.
"Bringer of Light is breaking up," Tactical-Two said, their voice remote and distant as training and experience enabled them to keep from their voice the horror of seeing a super-dreadnought explode with all hands.
Sharnat cursed again.
"They're concentrating of Pinch These Nuts, Admiral."
Sharnat just nodded.
She stared at the holotank, walking slowly around it.
There was nothing she could see that she could do. More hellgates were opening, the enemy was getting reinforcements, and she had none.
Hell, she had barely arrived in time to even try to defend the star system. She had intended on taking on mass, cutting a task force loose, then moving on.
The citizens of the star nation the stellar system belonged to weren't even part of the Confederacy, just emergency probationary members.
She had been involved in negotiations to take on mass at one of the super-massive gas giants when the hellgates had opened up all over the system.
Now over half her fleet was gone, the enemy possessed two-thirds of the stellar system, and were still bringing troops and ships into the stellar system.
The Olipnat Concordiant, whose system it was, was faring even worse.
They had less than a score of ships left.
But as she watched, the still angled to attack one of the huge ships trying to get close to the inhabited planet. They didn't seem to care about casualties as they drove straight into the enemy's teeth to hammer the twisted and charred looking ships point blank with their guns.
But Admiral Sharnat knew it wouldn't help.
The enemy ships were twisted, warped, as if they had partially melted and the superstructure had been pushed back toward the engines. There were gaps in the black armor, gaps that had red burning sullenly in their depths.
"Time Enough For Pinching reports boarders," she heard someone call out.
She just nodded.
Sharnat knew she was presiding over the worst defeat the Hamaroosan people, and the Confederacy, had suffered in their history.
"Two more stellar stabilizers have been destroyed. The system is down to 80%, too many more and the stellar mass will be vulnerable," tactical reported.
"Understood," Sharnat said.
She opened her mouth to order ships that had been forced to fall back to rejoin the fight when the entire world seemed to shake.
HEAVY METAL INCOMING! MAKE WAY!
thundered out across the bridge, rattling her teeth, blurring her vision, shaking her to the bone.
Everyone looked around.
Nobody has used that in tens of thousands of years, Sharnat thought to herself. She turned to the communications section. "Any ID? Any vector?"
"Not on known channels," commo said. The Hamaroosan technical officer looked up. "It's not..."
HEAVY METAL INCOMING! MAKE WAY!
sounded out again.
The roar was all consuming.
On the holotank, she could see the enemy ships suddenly break contact, milling about in confusion. Massive blackened vessels rolling out of formation as if they had been damaged.
HEAVY METAL INCOMING! MAKE WAY!
again, the roar sounded out.
"No ID! Repeat! No ID! No vectors!" commo called out.
"Estimate incoming weight in the high teratonnes, maybe even low single digit exotonnes," tactical called out.
"Olipnat Concordiant has lost another supercruiser. Still engaged with the..." tactical started to say.
HEAVY METAL IS HERE!
The holotank fuzzed, wavering, as it tried to accomadate the new data.
What came into the system was not a task force.
Not even a fleet.
It was an armarda.
Fifty super-Colossus hulls, old style where they were long, narrow at the front and wide at the back. Two hundred Colossus hulls. Five thousand Monitor class hulls.
The lead wave of the ships hit a concentration of enemy ships that were pinning part of Admiral Sharnat's fleet against one of the super-massive gas giants, forcing them to either take the pounding or abandon the habitats orbiting the gas giant.
Sharnat winced, waiting for the screen to clear and show that the incoming ships had hit the enemy ships and destroyed each other in an orgy of mutual annhilation.
Instead the enemy ship's icons flashed and vanished.
HEAVY METAL IS HERE!
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Another armada appeared, this one opposite of the stellar mass.
HEAVY METAL IS HERE!
Another one, this one to the polar south.
HEAVY METAL IS HERE!
Another armada to the polar north.
TERRA IS HERE!
Sharnat found herself holding onto the edge of the holotank, blinking, trying to clear her vision as it felt like someone had shaken her very brain.
"No Confederate ID's!" commo called out. "Negative Confederate ID's!"
Admiral Sharnat was trying to clear her head as two more armadas came streaking in, these two ninety degrees from the first two along the central 'plane' of the stellar mass.
She was trying to wrap her head around the sheer numbers.
Seven armadas, each larger than anything she had ever seen.
Obsolete equipment went through her head.
"Newcomers are maneuvering to engage the enemy!" tactical called out. "I have parasite class launches. Five hundred, twelve hundred, MANY MANY LAUNCHES!"
Around each of the armadas the icons fuzzed and she saw the system trying to count the amount of ships being launched by those massive hulls.
The first optical scans were coming back, popping up on the sides of the holotank and she just stared.
Black hulls, looking both matte and glossy at the same time. Covered with weapons, shield emitters, flight bays.
ID's started popping up. All of the names were cruel sounding. "The Dawn of Night" or "The Last Thing You See" and "Fuck Your Planet" and "Here Comes the Giant Fist" were among the more pleasant names. "Guts for Garters" was massive, covered in weapons, and was already firing.
Each ship had the same national header.
Solarian Iron Dominion.
"Incoming commo request. Looks like a superluminal buoy," commo called out. The Hamaroosan looked up. "They're asking for you by name."
"Put it through," Sharnat said, grabbing her command stick in her hand.
The holotank rezzed for a moment then stabilized.
She found herself blinking.
Sure, everyone had heard Terra's reemergence three months ago, but the fact it was a Terran staring at her with glowing amber eyes still startled her.
The view was of a massive Terran, made even larger by the armored vac-suit they were wearing. Their face-shield was transparent, showing skin browned by exposure to alien suns, piercing blue eyes almost hidden by t he amber glow, full lips hiding their teeth. The Terran had a scar down one side of his face that looked as if some animal had gotten close enough to get a piece of him.
Everything around him was blurred out.
"Task Force Reaper to allied fleet, do you read?" someone off screen asked.
"We read you," Sharnat heard her commo officer answer.
"Stand by for Fleet Admiral Angus Amanda Squarejaw Gutshredder," the off-screen Terran stated.
An ID header appeared over the Terran's head, IDing him.
"Admiral Sharnat is ready," her commo said.
The Terran nodded. "Are you there, Admiral Sharnat?"
"Yes," Sharnat said. She exhaled. "Tell me you're here to reinforce us."
The Terran nodded after a second. "We intercepted your message torpedo. We were within a few hours."
The Terran looked to the side, obviously listening. "Has the inhabitants of this system requested assistance and allowed us to enter?"
Sharnat nodded. "Yes."
The Terran Admiral's eyes shifted color to red. "We've received your tactical upload," he said. He gave a slight snort. "Hellspace infused shielding and hellspace forged ship armor, that's what's giving your gun crews such fits."
"Our weapons haven't been the most effective," Sharnat admitted. "The big problem is their sheer number."
"Hellgate opening detected!" her tactical called out. "They're coming out right on top of the Terrans."
The Fleet Admiral's lip curled in disgust. "They will not appreciate what they are about to receive."
"They also prefer boarding tactics," Sharnat warned.
"Tell the Marines to wake up. Time to earn their pay," the Fleet Admiral said to someone offscreen. He looked back at Sharnat. "We have medical and refit vessels on their way."
Sharnat nodded.
"Fireplan from the Dominion received! Loading into Tank Three," commo called out.
The Terran admiral stared at Sharnat.
"We await your command, Admiral," the Terran said.
Sharnat blinked. "My command?"
She looked at holotank three and saw the fireplan playing out.
The Terran nodded. "You are in command by Confederate doctrine, as the ranking admiral in the system when relief elements arrive."
Sharnat realized she didn't have the time to review the fireplan. The time for that had passed hours, days ago.
"Fireplan permission granted," Sharnat said.
The Terran's eyes went red. He straightened up slightly, seeming to somehow get larger.
"ALL COMMANDERS! YOU ARE CLEAR TO ENGAGE!" he roared out.
Part of Sharnat wondered if the other ship commanders could hear their admiral's voice without high-tech commo just based on the sheer volume.
"Dominion vessels are targeting the Hellspace breaches," tactical called out.
Sharnat wanted to order the Terran to engage the ships, that their weapons would be ineffective against the portals the enemy was using to enter the system.
"Breaches nineteen through thirty-seven have collapsed!" tactical called out.
She turned to holotank one, watching as the Terran ships moved, way too fast, across the stellar geometry. Some vanishing in a streak to reappear in another streak near the enemy. They jumped back in and their guns started pounding the enemy units around the planet.
It's all obsolete weapons, she thought to herself. The Terrans have been gone forty-thousand years, there's no way their warfighting tech is still viable. No way it'll effect the enemy when ours barely does.
She watched as the enemy ships started breaking up but were still pounded by the Terran guns. She watched as thousands of missile pods vomited up their cargo and then turned into a nCv shot, each cluster targeting one of the larger enemy vessels.
The smaller parasite craft got in among the enemy formation, seemingly uncaring about the casualties, just getting close enough to use vibroknives in a fist fight. As Sharnat watched more and more of the enemy ships started exploding as the parasite craft attacked from outrageously close distances.
The bigger ships were firing and the ghostly plucking at her bone marrow turned into a steady vibration. Energy weapons that twisted and spiraled through space, moving faster than light to hit targets light hours away within seconds. Superluminal kinetic weapons that hit as soon as the causality triggers were pulled. Torpedoes that sunk into the subspace foam to race across light minutes or hours to surface and make final runs only a few hundred kilometers from their targets after only a handful of seconds.
Admiral Sharnat just stared at the holotank, watching as the entire situation changed within minutes.
She had been outnumbered a hundred to one before the Dominion had arrived.
Over three quarters of the enemy vessels were destroyed or mission killed less than ten minutes later.
And still the Dominion guns pounded the enemy.
She knew the Dominion were Terrans. Founding members of the Confederacy.
She knew they were allies.
She knew their weapons were tens of thousands of years out of date.
But what she was watching chilled her to the bone.
The Terran admiral wasn't bothering with any fancy maneuvers, no attempts to trick the enemy or lure them into a trap.
His forces just advanced, heading straight into the enemy's teeth like a sledgehammer.
At was like watching an avalanche.
She watched out of the corner of her eye at the image of the Terran Fleet Admiral.
He seemed perfectly at ease. She didn't know much about Terran body language, but he seemed as if he was just watching something vaguely interesting on the holotank, not a furious fleet battle in a system that had been all but lost.
She remembered her briefing two months ago.
How Space Force Intelligence had determined that the Terrans would have minimal, if any, effect on the situation the Confederacy had found itself in. That the Terrans couldn't have too many ships as only fifty years has passed for them and they had undoubtablely been forced to dedicate most of their efforts to recover from the damage inflicted by the Lanaktallan invasion of TerraSol.
You have never been more wrong...
0-0-0-0-0
Hetmwit stood on the bridge of the Nell of Night, holding onto the bar that was attached to the edge of the holotank.
The Nell of Night was under full EMCOM, full stealth. The small attendant vessels were hanging close.
He glanced at Captain Decken, who was staring at the holotank, standing across from Hetmwit.
"They'll try to retreat any second," Captain Decken said.
Hetmwit just nodded.
"Inform the crew that Hellspace transit is immanent," Captain Decken said.
"Roger roger," the robot at the communications console stated, its Terran skull-like head adorned with a white stripe over the eyes and another down from the temple to the lower jaw.
"All hands, all hands, Hellspace transit immanent," sounded over the PA.
"Multiple Hellspace breaches opening! Enemy is retreating," Mister Goofy stated.
Decken nodded. "Remind Admiral Gutshredder not to knock out this Hellspace portal when it manifests," Captain Decken said, his voice calm and remote.
"Task Force Reaper confirms, Captain," Mister Chatty said.
Decken just nodded.
Part of Hetmwit couldn't believe how calm he was, holding onto the bar the surrounded the holotank, watching a massive interstellar battle. There was some anxiety, true, but nothing like he had felt when he had run across the open field to the cover of a burning tank, trying to protect his mother, his sisters, his nieces and nephews.
"Hellspace breaches collapsing. Enemy cannot withdraw," Mister Goofy stated.
Again, Decken just nodded.
"Get ready," Decken said. "Signal Task Force Reaper."
"Aye, sir," Mister Chatty answered.
"Hellspace shields ready, Captain," Mister Fumbles said, his teeth chattering for a moment.
"HELLSPACE PORTAL! SIX HUNDRED KILOMETERS OFF FORWARD BOW!" Mister Goofy called out.
"ENGINES FULL!" Decken roared out.
The ship seemed to rush forward and Hetmwit felt like he was being pushed backwards as the Little Nell of Night drove forward.
"Enemy ship detected in transit! Opening fire!" Mister Fumbles called out.
There was a hard twang to his bone-marrow, much heavier than the constant thrum from the battle in the surrounding system. Two twangs. Three. Four.
"Enemy has exploded with all hands!" Mister Fumbles called out. "Debris hitting forward shields. Hellspace shields at 100%!"
"Hellgate entry!" Mister Goofy called out.
Fire swept across the ship, just outside the walls of the vessel but still somehow visible, as the Little Nell of Night plunged into the Hellgate.
Hetmwit felt like his eyeballs were shivering.
"All units report successful Hellspace entry. Hellspace conduit holding stable," Mister Goofy said.
Decken smiled slowly, looking up at Hetmwit.
"Let's see where they're coming from," Decken smiled.
Hetmwit nodded silently.
0-0-0-0-0
"Little Nell of Night's Task Force has entered the hellspace breach, Admiral," Commander Sh'Trek
Admiral Gutshredder nodded, keeping his attention on the holotank that showed the ongoing battle for the star system. Confederate forces were winning, but that didn't mean the enemy couldn't come up with something new that would snatch them victory from defeat.
"Olipnat Concordiant Grand High Admiral Sherkus is requesting communication," Commodore Wark
"Put him through," Gutshredder ordered.
The holotank picture wavered then cleared to show a small furry mammal in a vac-suit.
"Confederate fleet command, this is Grand High Admiral Sherkus," the little mammal said.
"Solarion Iron Dominion Fleet," Gutshredder corrected.
The alien admiral blinked, then nodded. "Same as the Little Nell of Night?"
"Affirmative, Admiral," Gutshredder said.
"The Olipnat Concordiant appreciates your intervention," the little mammal said.
Gutshredder just nodded, watching in the holotank as more of the enemy ships broke up or vanished in an explosion of hellspace energy.
"Will you be staying in the system after the battle is complete?" the Concordiant Admiral asked.
"Just long enough to take on mass, refit, and leave behind a medical frigate and a refit vessel to support you and Confederate elements," Gutshredder said. "After that, my Task Force will be moving to another system that military analysts predict is in danger."
The alien admiral nodded. "And the Confederate forces?"
"They are not the Dominion's concern," Gutshredder said.
"Understood, Dominion," the alien said.
The channel shut off.
Admiral Gutshredder went back to watching his Task Force rip the guts out of the enemy.
0-0-0-0-0
"Make sure Confederate Intelligence knows they dropped the ball," Admiral Sharnat said.
She turned her attention back to the holotank.
"Obsolete weapons my left hand sister's ass."