Baskylla Jardzen Dzor knows only rumors. He's never fought a Zjeekha like this before. In fact, no Grodrrn has ever faced one alone and lived. It's taking all he can muster just to keep it at bay with strikes. It's faster than him, so trying to bait it is out of the question. It's stronger than him in his current state, which is on the downslope of his surge. His muscles ache and burn now, even with the regenerator repairing some of the damage. Its healing output is divided across his muscles, his skin, and now his left hand.
A Grodrrn soldier in training has to cut of his or her own finger while wearing a regenerator. The exercise serves two purposes; mind over matter for the Grodrrn to accept pain willingly, and so that they experience a severing and the continuous pain while it regenerates.
A hand is unbelievably more painful. Dzor's been shot many times, but those injuries heal quickly. His hand is screaming pain through his nerves. It's starting to distract him.
Every cut with his sword severs flesh from the bug, but it regrows in seconds.
No Grodrrn alone has ever survived against a Zjeekha this long. And Dzor is no exception.
He has no idea why the humans respect him. He has no idea why they trust him. He will never understand why they can look past what he helped do to them and what, for all they know, he still plans to do to them. He is their enemy in any conventional sense of the word.
And, he is humbled and grateful for their aid on this day.
The regenerator, volleys of fire to cause the Zjeekha to hitch its movements, the sword. He has survived this long only thanks to the humans, foolish as they are. Their tenacity and loyalty knowing bounds. If humans were his size, they would be mightier than a thousand Zjeekha. But, perhaps it is their size for which their spirit compensates.
Dzor could have fled a long time ago. He could have boarded the shuttle and jumped out long before the Zarak fleet knew it was occurring.
And, so could the humans. Surely cowards exist among them.
But, Dzor did not join the Fievegal military to live. He joined to stand in the sunlight as a mighty warrior of honor. And, on this day, he is doing everything he can to live up to the honor of the warriors around him.
What a backwards universe this is.
Dzor manages to avoid several more vicious attacks. He's forced to grip the Zjeekha's arm and pull it back when one of the humans runs out of cover to avoid being crushed. The Zjeekha swiftly jabs his chest and then kicks him, tumbling Dzor back. His wrist hits the deck, and Dzor nearly falls from the pain. He kicks into a forward roll, barely escaping a vertical drop-kick from the Zjeekha.
Human weapons thunder a volley in the opening. The Zjeekha barely flinches, but it looks at the human male who brought Dzor the regenerator.
The Baskylla Jardzen explodes to his feet, slashing a sizeable portion of the Zjeekha's twitching head off. But, it quickly regenerates. Dzor isn't a humorous individual, and he certainly didn't start when he said 'survive'.
The Zjeekha whirls, kicking Dzor again. He slides across the deck, barreling through several marines before coming to a stop against one of the wrecked haulers. His consciousness nearly faulters, and fog has filled his mind. He tries to regain his senses. He just glimpses the Zjeekha's feet stop, and then another of it picking something up off of the body it's standing on. A Zarakyssn squad leader body.
It all happens at once. Sharp claws embrace Dzor like a blade-suit hug, and he barely has the strength to spring to his feet to free his hand. He grips the claw coming down at the last second, using his injured forearm to brace his good arm. He must sacrifice every other defense, no matter the cost, to stop this one attack.
The poison stinger touches his chest above the collar of his armor, but hasn't pierced his skin yet. The Zjeekha claws at his torso, punches his abdomen, and tries to wrench the stinger closer. Dzor is losing blood and strength faster than the regenerator can restore it. But, he cannot let the stinger pierce his skin.
No one in the Fievegal knows what would happen if a Grodrrn is stung by the stinger. If stung, protocol is to execute oneself immediately. Because the end result for the individual stung is the same. There is a good reason the Zarakyssns fear being chosen.
The Zjeekha is not a new life. It is a curse. The effect lasts minutes, differing based on the individual, but never more than what humans count as seventeen. Dzor is pretty sure, though he has no way of knowing, that he's at around twelve.
If he's lucky, the sting would only kill him. If he's unlucky, he will join the Zjeekhas in a race to a brutal and hated death.
Dzor stumbles, trying to balance as he holds the stinger at bay. His gaze meets the Zjeekha's as it is rearing its head back, opening its mandibles wide. Dzor can do nothing. He must hold the stinger back. He closes his eyes, steeling his mind for what's to come. Human weapons thunder, but he knows it won't help.
Pain rips through Dzor's face in searing agony. He can feel his left eye moving in ways it shouldn't. The mandible scrapes against his skull until it hooks, and Dzor roars in agony as he hears the ominous cracking of his own skull. Relief comes in the form of less pain when the Zjeekha recoils again.
He will not survive this next bite. Dzor readies himself to release the stinger and try to fight it in the time he'd have left. Some distant part of him hears the humans evacuating the hangar. It's for the best.
A thunder clap precedes a crunch, just as Dzor was about to shift, and gooey tissues splash his injured face. Was that one of the humans' anti-vehicle weapons? It's about time.
But instead, a huge form drops over them, and a single, whip-like strike severs the arm with the stinger, causing Dzor to spring it away from him. The towering, net-like figure pulls the Zjeekha off rather forcefully with a shrill chatter.
When Dzor looks, it is an extremely tall, tentacle alien being. Dzor would bet confidently that it's the parasite the humans found. Khla described her abdomen being perpetually full of glowing eggs, but Dzor doesn't see them. The only thing the alien is wearing, surprisingly, is a blindfold. Still, she doesn't miss a strike as she grapples the Zjeekha by all of its limbs.
The violent insect is still far from subdued, though. It rips its arms clear for a moment, and the 'Cave Queen', as Khla called her, nimbly twists out of the way. Just as the Zjeekha is to jump and tackle her, Dzor snatches its leg, causing the Zjeekha to fall. It kicks him violently off, but one of the vine-like tentacles catches the Grodrrn, setting him down before the Queen snaps another in to 'punch' or 'kick' –depending on the limb- the Zjeekha with stupefying force. The Zjeekha actually doubles over as its innards rupture through its back.
Dzor takes a few breaths, wiping blood clear of his good eye. Dzor spots Khla shoving conex boxes. Why, he isn't sure, until he looks past them to the hangar door. Would the humans truly be so daring?
Dzor manages to smirk. Yes. Of course they are. Dzor jogs in to help the Cave Queen. She can hit harder than him, but one hit has already injured her heavily, and she is holding back. Dzor just needs to keep the Zjeekha occupied a little longer.
It only takes another moment. Every marine yells, "BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!"
Dzor has no idea what's supposed to be done now. The door cracks and an alarm sounds, but air exploding towards the door is all that can be heard. A fleshy whip grips Dzor before he's pulled off of his feet, and he realizes the artificial gravity is gone too. He looks at the Cave Queen, who is holding him with one of her arms and anchoring them both to one of the deck tie-downs.
She winces in pain though. Her long, vine-like tentacles reach far, and the Zjeekha refuses to go quietly.
Dzor glances at the Queen and then the Zjeekha.
He did not join the military to live the longest.
Dzor pulls his feet up, kicking away from the Queen as he pries her grip free. He twists in air and drives both of his boots into the Zjeekha's chest. The two tumble calamitously and helplessly. They both claw for the deck in last ditch efforts to survive, and Dzor has it just long enough to see the Zjeekha catch. He releases instantly, once more, and for certain this time, ENSURING the Zjeekha departs the ship to the great void.
Dzor can quickly feel ice hardening his skin, but he watches with his good eye in triumph. The Zjeekha's body breaks as it tries to flail against the ice forming and freezing its limbs. Its own strength is destroying it. Dzor can't help but smile. He –and the others- defeated a Zjeekha.
Death is a welcome rest.
***
Grey yells, "SOMEONE GET OUT THERE! DO NOT LOSE SIGHT OF HIM!" Long calls out, "I see him, Chief!" He breathes heavily from the severely thin air.
Khla is already sprinting onto a shuttle. Grey calls out to Long, "Go with her! Get him back on the double!" Grey limps closer to the Zarakyssn plasma door they used to get their haulers in. He never lets his singular-eyed gaze leave the two drifting bodies. The shuttle roars to life and races over his head. They are right on track. He ensures they reach him before he'll turn away.
Satisfied, Grey pivots. Mina is nursing the Queen's injuries. She took some serious hits and can barely move now, coupled with her usage of energy. But, she bought them the time they needed when they needed it most.
Grey looks outside. Roach ships burn and smolder as the Polonia's artillery fires in smaller bursts. The biggest roach ship is trying to flee, but the human artillery has no real range, per se. Their shells will fly through space until they hit something. The bug boarding ships are swarming around the vessel, trying to intercept shots. But, the hybrid rounds travel at mach 7, meaning they have too much energy to stop so simply. The standard artillery shells are slower, but much heavier, meaning they will just keep going as well. True, some of the shots are being deflected or absorbed, but dozens of the boarding craft explode after each such hit. And, the Polonia is not their only threat. The Gaia and Andromeda both fire mercilessly as the three mobile vessels retreat to the Providence's proximity.
Soon enough, the vessel explodes, just before the smaller battleships could move to block. The marines cheer excitedly, moreso when the shuttle returns. Grey orders, "Get some heating units and blankets, now! Clear us a path to medical!"
The marines spread out, carrying out his orders. Some ready to help carry the hulking warrior. Grey limps to the hatch as Khla opens it. Long is bandaging Dzor's severed hand and cradling his head in her thighs. She's not an expert, but she's doing well enough. Khla says, "He need warm NOW. We fast enough, but he die oov hipotherm if we do not warm."
Grey replies, "On the way."
Long says softly, "I don't understand, Chief... He's smiling..."
Grey looks. Sure enough, a tranquil and proud, even statuesque smile is spread across his reptilian mug. Grey smirks. He replies warmly, "He won. And he knew it. Best smile a soldier ever wears."
The marines bundle Dzor with chemical heating packs and blankets, working together to carry him to medical. Long asks Grey, "Um, Chief? A-Are you okay?"
He smiles, "We get out of here, I will be."
She nods. He asks, "Little one?"
Long replies softly, "She's scared, but, I think she understands when I try to calm her. She's doing okay now."
"Good."
Fredericks calls, "Chieeeeeefff!"
Grey and Long move quickly to the plasma door again to look. Grey's first fear is that the megabug learned to fly in space.
Instead, it's far worse.
Four more fleets of equal size to the first just jumped in. Each has one of the capital ships. They landed in north-direction orbit distance from the planet, the same distance the humans have now. Grey growls, "They frickin' hydra roaches? Can't flush 'em. Can't nuke 'em. And, now we can't cut their heads off?"
Fredericks asks, "Is it too late to stay on Earth, Chief?"
Long asks, "W-What do we do?"
Grey sighs. He says calmly, "What else? We reload."
As they start to turn away, a new flash catches Grey's eye. One more ship just jumped in, but this one is not of roach design. It has a paint job unique to its crew, as all others of their kind. It has superficial damage where repairs were made to vital systems. And, it has the most persistent hunter in the universe commanding it, apparently.
Grey calls out, "CRAW!" She turns in surprise, jogging over. She looks where Grey points, and she shudders.
A soft and tender word slips out of her mouth, "Hulma..."
Jardzen Khla's ship instantly opens fire, hammering the roach fleets without delay or mercy. They, in turn, open fire on his ship.
Grey is no expert, but he suspects dumb luck leading to the humans hardening against electrical disturbances saved them from both the Grodrrns and the roaches. Khla's ship may have more millennia behind its development, but he knows from Lopez that the Grodrrn ships are sensitive to continuous EMP discharges.
Where the shots were virtually harmless to the human fleet, Khla's ship is already losing lights and turrets.
***
Captain Long watches in disbelief as Khla's ship, easily identifiable by its markings, fearlessly battles FOUR fleets. They move into the ranks of ships, which spread out to surround him.
A message comes through. The video is garbled gibberish, but the voice is mostly clear. It's deep and rumbling, and sounds very much like a Grodrrn. "Flee, hoomins! We bih teem! {Flee humans! We buy time!}" The picture flickers clear for a moment. It's definitely a Grodrrn, around Dzor's age. Judging by the bridge, she suspects, it's Khla himself.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Long looks at the two Grodrrns standing nearby. They're watching in disbelief and surprise as well. Up to now, since Dzor effected their escape, the Grodrrns have been clearing the ship of Zarakyssns. At least one has been taken down by Zarakyssn weapons, but they were undoubtedly a big help in clearing the ship after Long and the others pushed the capital ship onto the defensive.
No one seems to want to die to the Zarakyssns, or worse, become their slaves. The mere fact that Khla came to help, or even that Dzor cleared the Polonia's bridge, speaks to the strangely human nature, as a human would call it, that Grodrrns express in the more grey confines of war. Whatever the reason for Khla's arrival, or what motivations he has, it is not a simple choice for Long.
Given that 3 of her fleet's ships are disabled, it's even more difficult.
Kane's voice comes over the radio next, saying, "Captain Long? You there?"
She quickly says, "Y-Yes! I'm here Lieutenant!"
"Thank God. Look, I took over as acting Captain of the Andromeda. Long story. But, I need you to receive my evacuees. I'm going to ram the Andromeda into their ships. That'll put me in their midst, and maybe I can..."
"NO," replies Long sternly. While he was speaking, she was looking at the Polonia's turrets. They have two modes. Both of them lethal.
The hybrid rounds use an energy jacket designed from Grodrrn weapons. The shots are extremely fast and hit hard. But, like Grodrrn weapons, they can lose energy and are heavily affected by magnetic fields and atmosphere; two things a large, once life-sustaining world has in abundance. As long as the Zarakyssn weapons don't find an Achilles tendon, and the Zarakyssns don't adapt 'Kamikaze' into their vocabulary, the human ships stand a chance.
She finishes her answer to Kane, "Lieutenant, we NEED our ships. I have a better idea. If you want to help, follow my lead."
Kane nods, "Yes Ma'am. Just,... Don't forget my idea... if we need it."
"I won't." She tries the announcing circuit. It's patchy, but functional. She says to her crew, "All hands, this is the Captain. The fight's not over. But, we are close to getting away. To do that, we need to hit the Zarakyssns fast and hard and break their lines. I know the horizon is terrifying right now. But, I WILL get us through this. WE will get us through this. I need your help. All hands able, report to and man up all starboard artillery batteries. I say again, all hands able, report to and man up all starboard –right of forward- artillery batteries. Port batteries, load and standby at two seventy." She glances at the Grodrrns. They look at her expectantly. She adds, "If you need ammunition, help, or manning, the Grodrrns are on their way. Grodrrns ARE friendlies. Work together. God's speed to us all."
The male shock trooper and the female pilot nod, jogging out. She imagines they'll find their way.
Captain Angelica Long takes a deep breath. She says to the Leehelm, "Come to heading three five five by nine-three up. Ahead flank two hundred."
The Leehelm collects her bearings, replying, "Three five five by nine-three, aye Captain." The Leehelm turns the wheel and also adjusts the bell order telegraph. She adds, "Ahead flank, two hundred Captain."
Kane says calmly, "I'll be right behind you, Captain."
"We won't be slowing down, Lieutenant."
"Understood."
The two ships turn and accelerate towards the raging battle. Captain Francisco comes on next, asking, "Where the hell are you going!?"
Captain Long replies sternly, "No one left behind." She then orders, "Port batteries stand to and fire when you bear."
The fire control officer relays it, replying. "Acknowledged Ma'am."
The Andromeda is about three kilometers back and one kilometer up higher. Long says to Kane, "Andromeda, I need you to decay your orbit more for my plan to work. We'll be broadsiding in a dangerous orbit."
Kane looks at her ship, judging by the angle he looks, and he replies, "Understood, Polonia. A bit lower, and we can compensate with mains at 90 degrees."
Long envisions his suggestion. She nods, "Perfect. Ready."
Long's fire control officer asks, "What if they don't follow, Captain?"
She smirks. "They'll follow. We're trying to escape."
The Polonia races forward towards the 4 fleets trading fire with Khla's ship. Golden beams streak from the Zarak ships. But, unlike the artillery they had been using, these lasers cut into the armor of Khla's ship, causing fire and gas ejection with every hit in brutal gashes on the hull. One of the officers cries out, "Captain! They're firing damaging weapons!"
"Keep going! Too late to stop now!"
The Polonia's artillery fires, and blasts light up on several of the dozens of Zarakyssn ships.
Near instantly, the smaller ships and two of the larger ships begin turning and accelerating, though in opposite directions. One of the capital ships and some of the smaller ships are headed toward the human fleet, and one of the capitals and the bulk of the smaller ships pursue the Polonia and the Andromeda. It's not perfect, but it's within Long's mental expectations.
Once the pursuers are locked in and firing, Long orders, "Roll to two-seventy!"
"Roll to two seventy aye!" The Leehelm turns the roll wheel counterclockwise, and the ship starts to roll its left side toward the planet. Long feels herself leaning and realizes it's the planet's gravity starting to affect them. She orders, "To all hands, find a seat and brace." The Lieutenant replies, "Aye, Ma'am," and she orders, "Come to heading Nine Zero." The Leehelm turns, confirming, "Come to heading nine zero, aye Captain."
The ship pivots, and the bridge feels like it's sloped steeply toward the back. Water bottles, bodies, and bullet casings slide across the floor as Long feels some weight pulling her into her chair. She adds, "All stop."
"All stop aye!" replies the Leehelm.
The ship is rocketing across the sky of the world below, its momentum still at full speed. But now, they're facing vertical with the right side of the ship facing the fleet pursuing them.
Long's mind hasn't been idle. She's not a soldier. She's not a pilot or an explorer. She's a navy ship captain commanding a modified starliner; a ship intended and designed to visit other worlds. She'll never be Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz nor Rear Admiral David Farragut. She is Captain Angelica Long. And, she has spent the last four years learning everything she needs to know about gravity and atmospheres to keep her ship in orbit instead of making its one and only landing.
She's not an astrophysicist. She doesn't know all of the mechanics of a world or the infinite varieties of conceivable atmospheres. But, she knows a four hundred thousand ton ship –and by extension, any heavier ones- are not escaping a world's gravity if they get too low with only basic pitch maneuvers. It's a spaceship, not an airplane.
She also knows her momentum will drop some as they skim the upper atmosphere, but the ship will also want to turn, meaning when they accelerate again, it'll hold orbit and recover velocity.
And, true to her hopes, the EMP shots aren't even reaching them. The pursuing ships are forced to lower their altitude to shorten their pursuit radius with the world.
Meanwhile, Long orders, "Have all gunnery crews add a..." She finishes her calculation, given their estimated altitude, gravity, and range. "Plus five degree incline to their shots using counter clockwise rotation. Adjust as necessary."
The fire control officer relays the order. Long waits a little longer. The damage control supervisor, normally Long's relay to the damage control officer, calls out, "Hull ionization, Captain. Five megajoules and counting."
The energy of ionization helps the Captain determine effects on hull integrity, and in some situations, can actually be wired in to charge batteries. It's also directly proportional to air resistance, and to a lesser degree, true altitude. It's great information for that emergency landing each ship is rated for. It's even better information for a Captain baiting dozens of ships into a trap. They slowly gain on the two human vessels. Long orders, "Starboard batteries fire."
Fire control relays, "Starboard batteries fire!"
Some of the small ships succumb instantly to the mightiest hammers of humankind thundering a new mercato of deadly fire and metal. They plummet into the atmosphere or explode violently. Those that explode rain shrapnel and debris upon their allies, damaging hulls or startling some of the ships off course slightly. The capital ship looms behind them, struggling even more to keep up. Radar announces, "Boarders inbound!"
Long picks up the announcing microphone, saying, "All hands, boarders inbound. Establish defensive positions and repel boarders."
Several on the bridge gasp as a golden flicker beams past the view screen. The Zarakyssns just fired the same cutting laser weapon as they did at Khla's ship. Much of the beam disintegrated into lightning-bolt like scattering tendrils, but it doesn't mean any of those are harmless.
A second shot hits hull, and the ship rumbles. Damage control reports, "We're losing pressure in oh-nine-tack-three-zero-tack-zero, forward cargo."
Long sighs. That's where the Grodrrns would normally be. She feels some relief they escaped and are helping. A part of her is mindful, though, that they aren't the most friendly forced allies. Especially now that a Grodrrn vessel is in the mix, which means there's hope for return to their own ranks. But, Long will rescue Khla, if only to capture him and stop his pursuit.
That is a problem that may never arise, though. Right now, she has far more pressing matters. She announces, "Hull rupture in compartment oh-nine-tack-three-zero-tack-zero, 'The Garden'. Any shoring team available, commence shoring from internal. Hull is inaccessible."
Damage control then announces, "Hull ionization, six-eight megajoules, Captain."
"Aye. All ahead standard."
"All ahead standard, aye!" replies the Leehelm. The ship is shaking some, and the nose is slowly tipping counterclockwise. Long adds, "Come right slow. Keep us vertical."
"Aye Captain! Come right slow!" The Leehelm turns the wheel, keeping the ship's nose pointed away from the planet.
Fire control calls out, "Captain, batteries request clockwise roll. They're having trouble hitting the capital ship."
Long nods, "Slow roll, plus ten degrees."
Leehelm replies, "Aye Captain, plus ten roll." The ship only gets a couple degrees before a nearly-full volley thunders together, shaking the ship. Explosions ripple across the capital ship. More of the beams flicker by, and a few hit. The ship rumbles, and glowing gashes are left in the armor, but damage control reports, "No ruptures, Captain!"
Long nods. The fiery glow of the hull ionization from the atmosphere is wicked-looking, but it's actually helping more than hurting. It's not harmless, though. One of the Andromeda's engines belches fire, and Kane appears on screen, "Polonia, I have to shut down number two main engine. I need to go to full."
Long looks at the enemy ships. Hull ionization is glowing about a third of the way up the hull of the capital ship. Long would like more, but it'll have to do. If she's lucky, she can coax a little more with the Polonia.
Captain Long listens to the volleys and the roar of the ionization licking at the bridge. Kane says suddenly, "Watch your armor, Polonia. We're seeing some breakage."
Long looks down at damage control. The supervisor replies, "No ruptures yet, Captain, but we're at one four eight megajoules."
Long orders, "Ahead flank, two hundred. All batteries, focus on the capital."
Both stations confirm and relay. After a moment, and another volley, damage control reports nervously, "Hull ionization one six one megajoules."
Long replies confidently, "We'll make it." She's confident, though she knows actual celestial physics differ very much from basic physics –now more than ever-. While a planet's gravity, atmosphere, magnetism, and radiation are all typically treated as point sources from a fictional central point of the planet, in actuality, those things are still functions of nature. Gravity is not precisely equal for distance from the center of a planet, as mass and density become more prominent the higher they are and the more localized they are. Magnetism moves in waves as is, given a spinning core. The atmosphere is bound to have swells and dips in its effective volume from pressure changes, gravitational and electromagnetic effects, and the very nature of being gaseous. And, strong radiation can affect ionization, especially in an atmosphere already high in ambient radiation. While the changes are most noticeably negligible in the grand scheme of things, the Polonia is dealing with forces of nature it's designed to deal with only once before never flying again. At their altitude, the ship only weighs maybe one tenth of its Earth-adjusted weight, but forty thousand tons is still not easy to stop and then move in any opposite direction.
"One seventy, Captain," urges the damage control supervisor.
Long repeats, "We'll make it." There's not a whole lot else they can do. Either the ship pulls out, or they attempt an emergency landing. And, if it comes to that, Long's probably better off nose-diving the ship to spare everyone onboard from being captured to unknowable ends. She watches another Zarakyssn light cruiser succumb to artillery fire and erupt flames as it sinks. Golden lightning bolts slam the Polonia's hull. She also glances the direction they're moving. The speed they achieved prior to this orbital broadside means they should complete a full orbit in just a couple more minutes. The other ships aren't visible yet, but they won't have much time to enact her next stage once they are.
"One eighty five, Captain! Still climbing!"
One silly thought hits her mind of a picture of the Iowa-class battleships of the old Navy. Those vessels used artillery cannons with a sixteen and a half inch bore –the width of the bullets-. Similar to a tank firing, those cannons could move the ship a small amount. If they all fired at once...
It's an insane idea with insane odds, but Long rationalizes this very day as insane or die. She orders quickly, "To all batteries port and starboard, aim one eight zero true and coordinate fire of all bores."
The fire control officer stares at her, and she booms, "DO IT! NOW!"
The officer quickly relays, but it becomes quickly clear the turret operators aren't in agreement. Captain Long takes the announcing circuit microphone, saying into it, "All hands, this is the Captain. I pulled a risky maneuver and we're sinking into the atmosphere of the planet below us. We need a kick. All batteries, please do as instructed."
There's a pause, and Long watches nervously.
One by one, the turrets swing downwards, aiming at the back end of the ship –or more accurately, the planet-. Captain Long announces, "ALL HANDS! BRACE!"
One second.
Two seconds.
Explosions erupt from the hull of the Polonia in one synchronous, violent blast. Several of the turrets are launched into the sky, causing her to wince. But, she feels pressure in her seat. Shudders and metal groans rumble through the hull ominously.
A tense moment later, damage control reports excitedly, "One fifty! O-one fourty! We're picking up speed Captain!"
Long relaxes as the bridge cheers. She nods, adding, "Surviving turrets, pick off any Zarakyssn ship that escapes the pull." She says dryly, "I'm hoping none..."
Fire control relays the order, and the starboard turrets slowly turn to resume their siege. Long watches the Zarakyssn ships. The smaller ships more obviously pitch fairly quickly. But, only the highest few manage to gain altitude. The pitch of the capital ship becomes more apparent, but for every degree of pitch, it loses a kilometer of altitude. Some of the cruisers are crushed by its inability to slow its descent.
Some of the turrets fire down on the capital ship, ensuring it doesn't recover. Others fire at the cruisers gaining altitude. The Andromeda is up at stable orbit, but is also firing down at the cruisers.
Long looks. The Providence and Khla's battleship are visible as tiny specks, but growing quickly. Long orders, "Come left slow to three two five degrees and report."
"Come left to three two five, aye, Captain!" The Leehelm turns the ship slowly, which is allowing them to gain altitude still. They're not in the clear yet. She orders, "All batteries in waiting, align to forward and prepare to make targets."
Fire control repeats and relays the order, and the Leehelm announces, "Heading three two five, Captain!"
"Aye. Roll right nine zero."
"Roll right nine zero, Aye! Rolling right!" The Leehelm rolls the ship, twisting it counterclockwise. Captain Long now can not see the ships, but that's okay. She orders, "All batteries align forward and prepare to make targets. Permission to fire on acquisition granted."
"Aye Captain!" replies fire control. The Andromeda is a little ahead of the Polonia now due to Kane leveling them out during the Polonia's escape. He asks Long, "I take it we're not stopping this time either, Captain?"
She smirks, "Try not to get into a fender bender, Lieutenant. I don't think Russel has insurance."
Kane chuckles, "Aye, Ma'am. We'll hit them first. Good luck, and God's speed."
"Amen."
The Andromeda's engines glow brighter. With 3 of the engines, it can still get close to top speed, which is upwards of 20,000 miles per hour in no friction. It'll take the Polonia time to recover speed after the time spent in the friction of the uppermost atmosphere of the planet. She orders, "Pitch negative ten degrees."
"Pitch negative ten, aye, Captain!" The nose slowly swings down, but they're still at an incline. She can't level off too early, though, or they'll lose altitude again.
Fire control announces, "We still have one pursuer, Captain."
Long looks behind them. One Zarakyssn cruiser is holding altitude and speed with a steep angle, but it's not gaining altitude by the looks of it. The fiery glow of ionization coats its hull.
Long orders, "Aftmost turrets, turn to aft and make target. Prepare to..." She doesn't get to finish. The ship's engines flare brightly, and all at once, a bright beam like a laser seems to flash forward. In the instant following, as everyone recoils, it turns into a fiery explosion of debris racing into the oblivion of space, while a massive shockwave rips outwards from where the ship was. Most of the visible shockwave races downwards, but a 'splash' of fiery atmosphere shoots outwards following the obliterated wreckage. The Polonia quakes from a pressure wave, though it's far less than that of the shockwave cascading destructively deep into the atmosphere like an atomic explosion.
The damage control supervisor cries out, "Jesus! What was that!?"
Long studies the trail of smoke and debris streaming deep into the distance. She knows from how the Zarakyssns arrived that their FTL technology does not employ a bubble the way the Grodrrn technology does. Many theoretical technologies, both fictional and hypothetical, existed on Earth for the purpose of faster than light travel. Some involved tunneling into different dimensions as a 'shortcut' of sorts, wormholes to link two places in space, teleportation, special speed settings. Humanity had dabbled in long range communication using quantum entanglement, which is similar in a sense to teleporting information, but they weren't at FTL yet when the Grodrrns arrived. It stands to reason, though, there are many ways to sail the stars, and the Zarakyssn cruiser just attempted theirs.
Long makes a mental note of something she suspected; FTL travel out of an atmosphere might not be the best idea. Though, the Grodrrn technology might be somewhat safe due to the bubble.
She returns her attention forward, though. They still have a battle to win. She checks their altitude and orders, "Pitch negative three five degrees."
"Aye Captain! Pitch negative three five!" The Leehelm angles the ship down more. They are now nearly perfectly in line with the battle. The Andromeda is just entering firing range, and flashes flicker on its hull.
Long notices another beautiful sight, though. The Providence is accelerating towards the Honolulu. She smiles. She has very little doubt Lopez is the one to thank, and she intends to do so.
***