“What an absolute hellhole.”
“Lohren must I remind you to watch your language for the fifth time?” Ohrdin sighed as he regarded the towering woman seated beside him, her face twisted in discomfort, claws sunken deep into the recently double-padded armrest.
His new assistant was perhaps a little … rough around the edges, but her fervour to learn was endearing and he had to admit, judging by the faint green light of a successful scan illuminating the console before them in record time, she was a remarkably keen student.
A short flurry of pants escaped the woman’s lips as she dropped her weight back into a chair straining to withstand her. As her eyes drifted open and glanced her pride across to him, he couldn’t help but feel similarly. Nearly all the other candidates had resigned within minutes of interfacing with the ships systems, admittedly an overwhelming prospect for most. The others that remained excluding her were all natural born Witches, ideal for the job and yet he found they were too adverse to failure, a flaw she was pleasantly devoid of. Extensive experience he imagined the culprit, if the star chart of scars across her arms were of any indication.
“Ahh sorry bout the … for the … umm” Lohren gently stuttered the words as she massaged her throbbing temple.
“Language?” He returned with a light chuckle.
“Yes! Sorry I was distracted and lost my focus, it won’t happen again.”
Ohrdin skimmed through the data, ever so presently aware of the anything but subtle woman’s attempts to surreptitiously appraise his reaction. “I do not know how you got that impression, if the preliminary scans are anything to go by your focus was unyielding.”
“Yes!” She exclaimed, slapping the armrest which groaned with an audible crack. “Oh shit! Sorry! Fuck I got carried away there.” Fumbling she quickly attempted to bring the barely attached arm back into position. “Wait … preliminary?”
“You heard me correctly, we have far more information to learn about this planet considering the Terran’s neglected to provide it. Do leave the chair alone, it will fix itself.” The familiar sound of the nano-assisted hull whirring to life seemed to startle her into withdrawing her hands, capturing her attention as the sleek metal deformed and stretched, reaching out and pulling the pieces back together.
“You seem to have picked up some new additions to your vocabulary recently.” Lohren averted her gaze at the statement, fiddling with the console as if he didn’t know she was just swapping between menus at random. He sighed once more before turning his seat towards her and folding his four hands neatly across his lap. “I can’t imagine you picked these phrases up from Terran diplomats.”
The questioning statement hung in the air briefly, Lohren shifting nervously in her seat. Scratching the back of her head she sheepishly turned her gaze back towards Ohrdin. “Dive bars they called them sir, I visited a few of them back on Terra during my time off. Wanted to get to know the locals since their race has such a close relationship with mine. Allegedly anyways I hadn’t met many of them until then.”
She was a decent liar at any rate he thought, useful as that was he didn’t appreciate it being used towards him. Glancing around her he could see her energy patterns shrinking in, hardening and hiding, an aura of withdrawal told him everything he needed to know about the legitimacy of this statement while the lack of fear reassured him it was a benign omission. Whatever his thoughts may have been, his almost featureless face betrayed none of them to her bar the questioning tilt of his head.
Once more silence fell between the pair, broken only by the faint mutterings drifting past them from the rest of the bridge staff. Eventually her nerves cracked as she relented with an answer. “I hope it’s not a problem that those dive bars had an underground fighting ring.”
Satisfied, he turned his chair back towards the console before them, avoiding her gaze and focusing on the … perplexing data of the scan. “Not so much a problem as a potential diplomatic incident…” pausing briefly to glance at her shrinking away, he continued “… though I trust you won your time's worth?”
A small smile overcame her as she threw an all too accomplished smirk his way. “A month's salary! I managed fifteen fights before they threw me out and yes before you ask I didn’t injure any of them.”
He leaned back in genuine surprise. “Fifteen? Didn’t the last race we visited only manage six?” She answered him with a confident nod as he raised his chin and spoke with pride. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t at least double your bets. That being said You were gone most of the night. I can't imagine it took that long?”
“To be fair to them sir, Terran’s are very hard to keep down, I had to knock most of them out to end the fight. Had me pretty tired by the end of it.”
“Really? It seems the Terran love for challenge hasn’t faded since my last visit. We will have to mark down your new record lest we forget it.” He pondered this as he watched her smirk explode into a full blown toothy smile, a pair of wickedly sharp serrated teeth extending from her upper jaw. A harmless if utterly terrifying visage that assured him the only danger was that he may never be allowed to forget.
Excitement seemingly rousing her courage he watched as once more Lohren reached out to the gelatinous tray jutting out from beneath her display and sunk her hands in. Her smile turned again to a grimace as hundreds of near microscopic tendrils illuminated and began burrowing, almost painlessly, into her skin, no doubt finding her nervous system in short order.
Just before the interfacing was complete she threw out a final playful remark. “With the strain they put me under I’d almost rather take on a Drenhari warrior than a properly armed group of Terrans.”
With that her eyes closed, her powerful frame tensing as overwhelming amounts of information began to flow through her mind. Ohrdin turned his gaze towards the planet before them as her emphasis on “almost” hung in the air, reminding him of the other reason he chose her. She was possessed of a useful if not grim habit of somehow turning even the lightest of conversations into a reminder of whatever dire mission he had been assigned to. Friendliness notwithstanding it acted now as it had since her first arrival on this ship and focused his mind on the task at hand.
“Lohren if you please, acquaint me with any tactical factors present in the environment.” The command came sharp and clear as he watched his assistant silently get to work, her own energy swelling near the centre of her forehead, although invisible to her, it was clear to him that she was intently focused on preserving the straining connection between herself and the ship's systems.
As her energy and that of the ship's interface point entangled in a staccato dance of question and response, she drew a deep breath into her lungs and began her response.
“As previously assessed this pocket of space appears to be surrounded by a bubble of warped spatial distance not unlike typical shielding systems. The bubble is contained to the immediate area around the planet and does not present any fluctuation. The survey data shows that this is likely due to vast quantities of Drachmium. How these quantities are producing a bubble this large is unknown but no other alternatives present themselves at this time. Tactically this presents a unique situation whereby only two opposing points of the bubble are of a short enough spatial distance to allow a lock on for even Class 7 jump drives.”
Ohrdin flinched as the hopes of a prompt Federation reinforcement died in but a sentence. As if reading his mind in that moment Lohren grunted, redoubled her focus, and continued her report.
“Reinforcements will need to arrive at the closest possible jump point to get within locking range. Unfortunately, this means a diversion into the depths of Terran space which is as far from a straight line as one can get from their last reported position. Fortunately, the bubble will also prevent enemy combatants from exiting towards Terran space without getting as close as possible to the exit point to our rear. We unusually have a confirmed entry and exit point and can likely take an incredibly defensive position and allow the Drenhari fleet to assault us. Terran ships are quite sturdy and have proven their ability to trade exceptionally well against even ten times the number of Drenhari ships.”
With a slow roll of subdermal crystalline eyes, Ohrdin privately conveyed his contempt for the word sturdy, replacing it mentally with unnecessary. While it was true that Terran ships were some of the most well armoured this galaxy had seen in millennia, he knew this was entirely due to abysmal power generation despite the excellent shielding technology they had been provided. Unable to power a shield the Terrans had instead opted to forgo the generously donated Class 5 laser designs, powering a bizarrely extensive array of archaic canister plasma launchers in their stead. It was with a rapidly declining mood that he regarded the continuing report.
“Their reinforcements are scheduled to arrive within the hour, I would highly recommend creating a defensive screen upon system entry to allow for damaged ships to drop their shields and calculate a jump behind the wall of a fresher back line. Additionally, provided the Terrans bring the bulk of their reserve forces, they should position their old cruiser models on the flanks of this exit point escorted by interception focused destroyers. Their exceptionally extensive lower calibre plasma batteries should overwhelm the majority of the Drenhari’s smaller Class 5 vessels in a crossfire. The armour of these cruisers is thick enough to withdraw even under withering return fire. This should clear the chaff and allow their newer designs to focus heavier batteries on anything more substantial.”
Ohrdin regarded his now relaxing assistant, while the trademark simplicity of a freshly trained officer marred the potential of the plan, it was impressive coming from the mind of someone who only three months prior was guarding the gate to a forgotten hovel somewhere deep in her peoples space. That being said, simplicity allowed a certain flexibility when presented to Terran commanders… had she accounted for this in her plan? Perhaps her time fighting them had allowed her to get a read on how they thought. The more her perceptiveness was allowed to flourish the more he was convinced of his choice.
“Do not disconnect from the system yet Lohren, I’d like you to finish your report.” The command came slightly slower than the soft disappointed growl that answered it. “I’m sure I haven’t missed something, right?”
One of his hands rested itself atop her shoulder as he gestured toward the planet before them, her eyes lighting with an almost embarrassed recognition. “I didn’t forget it seems, I neglected to mention it because atmospheric combat is categorically impossible for the participating parties.”
Ohrdin coiled back into his chair as he mulled the statement over. Her confidence was worrying, she was usually not one to allow impossibility to enter her analysis. Linking his console to hers, he watched her sort through the incoming data at a blistering pace, allowing his silence to prompt her to continue.
“The atmosphere is both incredibly deep and exceptionally unstable, only the powerful thrusters of dedicated heavy excavation ships, colony ships and the like would stand any chance of maintaining stability and thrust capable of leaving or entering the atmosphere.” The relevant data drew tension into both of their bones at the thought of unlucky pilots fruitlessly attempting to control a descent.
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“I imagine our ship would be fine, presuming we dropped our cloak to raise the shields?” He asked with only a hint of concern in his voice as he appraised the wind speeds. An affirming nod answered his question as he flipped between schematics of the Terran reserve fleet, though the short notice left much of the supposed full armament in a position of severe doubt. Finally he began a calculation of the atmospheric entry temperatures to be expected, hoping quietly that Terran alloys returned higher numbers.
Lohren sat quietly for several minutes pondering a nervous feeling she couldn't quite shake, only to peer over at Ohrdin’s screen and see it unusually had not changed. “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, I can see you’re still focused on atmospheric combat, have I missed something?”
The question came his way not with concern for failure but the genuine interest for improvement he had grown so fond of, and so, as opposed to his usual silent teaching he returned a well deserved prompt answer.
“Evacuation pods, should Terran ships be brought down, which they almost certainly will in the two weeks it will take Federation reinforcements to arrive, will likely be brought directly into the planet's gravity. While they can survive an atmospheric fall, the freezing temperatures on the planet will make long term rescue operations a lost cause. Short term operations are similarly disadvantaged due to the amount of interference inside the planet's atmosphere. Even our systems cannot return an accurate scan of the planet's surface by now meaning they won’t by the time we will need them.”
Lohren opened her mouth to ask a question but based on where her energy peaked a moment ago, he figured he was already in the process of answering the painfully martial woman’s query and so intercepted it.
“This interference also makes any form of electronic communication, targeting of pods or guided weaponry, scanning and the like, entirely impractical without days of preparation to find a single pod’s signature. Moment to moment locating and communication is simply impossible. The best we can hope for is to rescue the pods before they enter the atmosphere while cloaked and even then, we only have enough room for perhaps … two hundred souls sleeping shoulder to shoulder, with medical supplies for a tenth that number. As for your question, excluding small arms fire and visual targeting, most weaponry above Class 2 would be rendered entirely useless.”
Mentally disconnecting from the ship he turned to find her deep in thought, with a childishly provoking tone and the internal feel of a smirk in place of the expression of one, he asked “Have I missed anything?”
Ignoring the slight beyond a contemptuous huff, she took her time responding, still stuck on that nervous feeling that there must be something they were forgetting. Eventually rising from her contemplation she turned to him with a look of slight shock. “Sir for the first time I think you might have!” Hurriedly she focused her mind and changed his console screen to an old star chart, several centuries old and showing Terran space before they expanded beyond this planet, a map regretfully not too dissimilar to its modern counterpart.
“Lohren I’m not sure I see where you’re going with this but please continue.” The request became more genuine mid sentence as she overlayed a version of the modern borders expanded to match this planet’s location. Her line of reasoning began to become clear.
“This would have been the first system they encountered if they were exploring normally wouldn’t it?” A curt nod prompted her to continue. “Instead they reported to the Federation over 80 planets discovered and colonised before their first encounters with the Drenhari. In order to raise alarm to a Drenhari invasion they would have had to have known the Drenhari could reach this system. A system previously far beyond the range of their most advanced ships until recently when you discovered they had upgraded!”
It did not take long for her enthusiasm to become shared as he realised he had only told the Terran’s about this upgrade mere days before they sent their request for reinforcements. “They would also have had to know the system was here, in range, confirming your assertion that they had already discovered it.”
“Not only that! They would have had to have intimate knowledge of the bubble to understand that there was a threat of invasion through the bare extents of warp ranges reaching these entry points! The Terrans mush have explored it and mapped out the effects of the Drachmium, implying that they have detailed scans of the quantity and location of these deposits, their inferior scanning systems wouldn’t be able to map the bubble entrances otherwise!”
“Lohren I’m quite proud of your deductions but I don’t see how this concerns us beyond political ramifications for them.” Ohrdin was sure he was about to find out as he saw his statements did not dissuade her in the slightest.
“Mining wouldn’t be worth it,” she almost shouted, lost within her rant, “the material is practically useless outside of disturbing shields, and even then! It can only do that in small quantities, not enough to bother a ship but favoured by assassins for dealing with personal shields.”
Ohrdin groaned deeply at the mere hint of Drachmium bullets, a problem that had plagued his people ever since their cowardly inception into the hands of the highly paid and morally low. “Perhaps I’m distracted by my disdain for such individuals but I still am not seeing the point. The Terrans marked this place as an anomaly, hoping they could make use of its resources somehow. This implies a morally bankrupt level of greed at best and treason at worst, problems certainly but judging by your aura I assume I still haven’t discovered your actual point?”
A moment of confusion twisted her expression as she considered his interpretation before she quickly shook it away and returned to her theory. “The Terrans have no reason to protect this system if that is true, yes it is a choke point but there’s only one system to exit into on their side, a heavily fortified system at that. With a guaranteed exit point why not station every ship they have along with the substantial orbital weaponry their stations control at the mouth of the exit. They could shred any ship that came out of it! Even with minimal supplies they could delay!”
“They must have some reason for disadvantaging themselves!” And so her theory finally rang true in his mind, a slight swell of pale silver emanating from his eyes made sepulchral hollows of the skin tautly stretched over them, highlighting his pained reaction to the Terran’s deception. Speaking with a measured betrayal he surmised her conclusions. “There is something hidden on that planet they wish to protect.”
He carefully examined his assistant's joyous expression, he was sure, there was no better choice he could have made.
Across to his right the helmsman’s voice rang out from the lower sections of the bridge. “Scanning crews have detected a distortion of space behind us, the profile is consistent with our old warp signatures.”
It seems the Terrans are here, he thought flattening his robes into a more presentable position, albeit with minimal effort. “Wait …” he turned to Lohren, “did my mind deceive me or did she say a singular distortion?”
The question was shortly answered as the circular holotable before them displayed a singular Terran ship drop in from its jump with a massive pulse of energy, displayed by topographical lines radiating out from the ship of various colours indicating the energy type.
“Sir, is this what your people see all the time?” Lohren’s question came as a slight surprise to him as he regarded the undulating waves dissapating into the void.
“I suppose I never did show you what it looked like before, I presumed you would have researched this before signing on as my assistant” The look of a child caught in a lie did much to bemuse him.
“I ahhhh prefer a more hands on approach to learning and I, umm, didn’t think I’d find simulations that easy.” Her nervous response as she scratched valleys into the near-disintegrated padding was thankfully the least costly of her habits.
Seeing as she was still connected to the system and could see as he could, it seemed a demonstration was in order. Swelling energy within his mind he directed its flow down to his chest. From there it travelled through his arm and began to seep out of his palm, playing gently between his fingertips, earning a hitched breath of wonder to prove her lack of research.
“A reasonable if incorrect assumption. Yes, this is what we see though usually not so much energy from a Terran jump, they must be overcharging the generator. A sure fire way to wind up in the repair docks with half your crew missing in return for marginal speed increases.” There was no missing the disdain in his voice as he returned his energy along its path. “I’ll have to have a word with their safety officer.”
“The ship is contacting us sir.” The helmsman called out, already sending the transmission to their consoles.
Ohrdin reached out one of his longer upper arms to Lohren, landing a heavy pat on her furry shoulder. “Link it into my console and disconnect yourself from the ship you’ve done more than enough today, any more would be dangerous for you.”
A sigh of relief practically leapt out of her. “Thank you sir, linking you in.”
As her hands withdrew from the console a unfortunately familiar image filled the holotable, Admiral Sterran Kreischer. A retired admiral though he insisted upon the title being present on all documentation concerning him. These days he worked as a major part of Terra’s security council, Ohrdin recalled, managing the defences that should they see combat would signify that the Terrans had been pushed back to their core worlds. Effectively they had already been executed. Essentially, as Ohrdin surmised to himself, his job was to die as slowly as possible, something which he had garnered a legendary amount of prestige for during the last Drenhari invasion.
His skill at holding off insurmountable odds at any means necessary was admittedly useful then and especially now, but that skill came at a cost, one that had it not been for his status as a hero would have seen him at the mercy of the Grand Courts of the Cradle itself. Putting your own men through such dire circumstances, when it was entirely unnecessary, was as clear a crime against the soul as any of the Federation's war laws could state.
Necessary? The Terran people may have believed that. Proveably unnecessary? Not with how little was left of those colonies. A familiar feeling of disgust filled his heart as he bowed his head slightly to the ageing man before him.
“Ohrdin how lovely to see you! You’re first of the low council these days are you not?” Kreischer spoke in his usual deep melodic tones, spreading his arms in a welcoming if perhaps domineering gesture.
Ohrdin recognised the gesture for what it was, having known the man for too long to miss the subtlety. ‘Welcome to my battlefield’ he was saying, ‘do not, get in my way’. A stubborn man but not an unpleasant one, unpleasantly gaudy judging by his current adornment. His medium length wavy crop of silvering hair indicated the garishness of his attire may have been an attempt to compensate for the diminishing returns of the life extension process.
Countless medals rattled against his white and gold uniform, embroidered shoulders rising in the visage of phoenix’s taking flight. It was the typical icon to represent his efforts in the last war, taking humanity from despair to a fiery rebirth. It was also the same iconography that adorned the prosthetic that replaced his left lower jaw, lost in a savage melee so the story goes. Displayed upon it was the coat of arms of Battlefleet Imperi, his old fleet which he no longer commanded. Though somewhat scarily, if rumours were to be believed, they still deified his leadership to an unhealthy degree.
Ohrdin gathered his thoughts and responded in a firm but slow voice. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you, Councilman, I trust the reserve fleet is to follow in short order.”
“Not quite I’m afraid, If you are to join us you’ll want to prepare whatever you require, we’ll be sending a shuttle to you shortly.” Kreischer returned in a terse voice, absently flicking through a collection of data pads being handed to him by innumerable officers littering the bridge like scattered ants.
“We have a shuttle we can travel in of our own accord though I thank you for your consideration.” Ohrdin stated this as quickly as possible, glad to have the opportunity to deny the uncomfortable ‘safety features’ of what would no doubt be a highly militarised vessel.
“Very good, we’re also sending a data packet your way, should come through in a moment, battle strategies we have prepared.” Kreischer’s aversion to eye contact in his statements was beginning to worry it’s recipients.
Eager to avoid needless bravado Ohrdin recalled his assistant’s earlier sugesstions. “Ah yes we have some suggestions of our own given our scans of the area, I’m sure the fleet would be happy to make use of the input.”
Kresicher froze, sighing in slight annoyance as his eyes met Ohrdin’s in a steely gaze. “You may wish to review that data packet, the fleet isn’t coming.” The projection fell as the call dropped, leaving silence and shock in its wake.
The statement came too calmly for the gravity of its implications, Ohrdin’s head whipped around to his assistant as he floated out of his chair, barking orders to quell the confusion. “Start processing that data packet immediately, helmsman are we picking up any other jump signatures?” The helmsman's negative response struck a sense of panic into Ohrdin. “Start a … nevermind.”
A direct scan would take too long, he thought to himself. He would need to handle this himself and so, he began to drift into the recesses of his mind, physical vision narrowing to a tunnel no larger than the width of this thumb. Soon his consciousness had sunken backwards until it was far beyond his body, drifting away from his assistant still getting used to his sudden blackouts and towards the Terran ship. In this form the waxing and waning of energy within the ship displayed itself to him like an overlayed swarm of jellyfish.
The large waves of the power core, shield generator, batteries … batteries filled with enormous amounts of energy? A question for another time he thought as said waves washed over the smaller pinpricks that commanded them. Little aura bubbles around each of the staff, too many in one place to get a direct read from this distance but at a rough count? Three thousand in the upper decks and a further two thousand near the oversized engines and what appeared to be a flight deck, a little much for a cruiser of this size but the Terrans were inefficient beings.
What startled him and solidified his ideas about what this data packet would contain, were the signatures in the belly of the ship. Ten… thirteen… fifteen… seventeen thousand souls all desperately humming in anticipation, if not fear, if not terror. This explained the oversized thrusters and why the ship’s function was not more immediately obvious to him, he hadn’t bothered to research hundred year old planetary assault craft since the sheer lunacy of the idea had not occurred to him.
Snapping his focus back to his body he straightened his posture and reached out to his assistant who was slightly shaking as he saw, fear in her aura? Leaning forward he caught her expression… ravenous.
He glanced with some trepidation at what had her so transfixed. The data packet had arrived and she had opened a section titled ‘Historical Examples of the Proposed Strategy’. Ohrdin froze, the report before him brought his memory back to when it had happened. The very mention of it sent a shiver down his spine as he recalled the tapestry of suffering his people bore witness to. These tactics were the reason most of his race gave up on the uplifting of mankind. To willingly engage in such barbarity, to traumatise an entire generation with such psychological wounds as to need over a century to even begin recouping the cost of that generational trauma.
His nerves rose to anger, boiling through his system before descending to a cold disgust as the regarded the offending word.
‘Verdun’.