The entire battle was unfolding well. Admiral Verloff was visibly angry about the losses sustained so far and was giving out orders at a murderous pace as his armada fine-tuned itself before the brutal clash with Admiral Idrina's fleet. Both groups were jockeying for the perfect position, but the Novicans were struggling. Idrina was beyond herself with fear as light but spectacular barrages lashed her shields. Many Novican officers lacked the experience that their Imperial counterparts had in spades, and space warfare was vastly different in theory than in practise. The few amongst them who had taken part in wargames were now rapidly taking the lead even as the Imperials homed in on any task force that pulled themselves together. With roughly five hundred vessels on their side in the first wave and more than thrice their number on the opposing side that task was simply too daunting to pull off entirely. Dozens of enemy ships had already been destroyed with little return fire breaking through the reinforced formations, but that still left the vast majority intact. Cindy had read up on naval battles before and when two armadas passed one another in a frontal and brutal slaughter, usually less than a third came out intact if the two forces were equal.
She swallowed her worry. They weren't. Nemesis was spread out all over the sector. She didn't know how many corvettes were still intact, but they had numbered around a third of Nemesis' combat vessels. Then there were the battlecruisers and their escorts laying down suppressive fire, the carriers supporting them and even more battlecruisers harassing the Novican flanks and only heavens knew why there weren't any frigates amongst their ranks. Then there was the notable absence of Verloff's second in command and his task force. Still, when she looked at the leading Admiral, a man rapidly becoming a legend, and saw him gazing at the display, she felt a strange confidence in their victory.
She felt her heartbeat quicken as she looked at the display and the lines of red and green rapidly closing. The bridge trembled slightly as the powerful Nova Cannons spoke once again. She looked around and saw her agitation mirrored by the bridge crew. Sweat was running down scalps and necks, everyone spoke in heated whispers as they did whatever was necessary to keep the fleet together. A grin blossomed on the face of weapons as another kill was confirmed.
'Prepare for Do a barrel roll!'
Further ahead, leading the way of the Imperial armada were the dreadnaughts followed closely by the thickly armoured Hammers. Cindy looked at the display and knew that what she saw wasn't what was really happening. The simple holographic projections did no justice to the gargantuan vessels taking in final positions as fire lanced both ways. The arrows began opening up, battleships slowly extending their reach while everything that was smaller than them increased their distance. Battleships, all across the galaxy, tended to be broadside focused. Heavy frontal armour and powerful shields let them close in, before they bullied their way through lesser fleets and destroyed them with heavy lance batteries. Once those ships reached their Novican counterparts the slaughter would start in earnest.
The distance closed even further and the two lines were now barely a million kilometres apart, armour plates sliding away as the heavy broadside batteries bathed in the light of the stars, hungrily drinking in the data their sensors fed them, generators rumbling through life as energy powered the immense particle lasers. The Nova Cannons went silent as the Citadels saved their energy for the final clash, knowing that in close combat their overpowered weapons went unopposed. Enemy dreadnaughts lashed out with everything they had, battering through shields and scarring hulls as every vessel targeted their direct opponent.
Every ship was in place, no more adjustments could be made. This would be it. The apocalyptic clash between Idrina's fleet and Nemesis. The former largely disjointed and operating only on task force level, but numerically superior, the latter perfectly positioned, but burdened with the need to survive with as little damage as possible and uncomfortably outnumbered. For a brief moment total silence reigned aboard the flagship, a silence mirrored in the sudden absence of heavy fire between the two lines. Everyone was saving their power for the close range energy duel that was about to unfold, not entirely dissimilar to how ships fought back in the eighteenth century.
'NOW!' thundered Verloff and the battlefield once again changed tremendously on his command. 'Maintenance is going to hate me for this,' he mumbled under his breath.
Thrusters flared to life on the Hammers, burning them beyond function as the large ships began a ninety degree turn. Inertia dampeners fought against the sudden change of direction as the ship made a sharp turn, people were slammed into bulkheads and suffered broken bones, bruises, internal bleeding and a plethora of injuries. The fastidious logistical officers glared at the groaning cargo locks, willing it to hold it in place and praying to what or whomever they believed in that nobody had skimped on the boring task. Bulkheads trembled under the sheer forces put upon them, thrusters exploded, generators overloaded and gravity plating fought tooth and nail to keep the crew on their feet while the safety harnesses were pulled taut in an attempt to minimise the damage their wearers would sustain.
Then the first step was over.
Down below on the planet Kolpovka screamed in mute rage as he saw an impossible manoeuvre unfold, unable to do a damned thing about it.
With their inertia unimpeded the Hammers were now flying straight at the Novican lines, with their broadsides pointing directly at the enemy. Nobody waited for a command to fire. The lance batteries spoke, a singular voice, as they cleansed the galaxy with fire.
Shields screamed in agony and were overwhelmed in short order as several salvos struck each selected target. Armour, built to withstand constant barrages, was surgically cut apart as the beams pierced the hull with disgusting ease. Battleships were dissected and cut apart, battlecruisers went up in flames as secondary explosions wrecked them, generators were struck and lost containment in spectacular balls of fire, ships were torn apart, crew sucked out into space. Formations fell apart as lead ships were found and wiped out, sensors went blind through the sheer amount of fire thrown around, missiles lost their targets or were simply evaporated by the constant fire. Turrets and frontal cannons opened return fire in a desperate bid to halt the merciless slaughter the Imperials were inflicting. Hammers were pounded as the Novicans poured everything into a manic counterattack as millions died around them. For a split moment it seemed that it would even work, as the broadside barrages fell silent, the energy constraint on the guns growing too much. Several Hammers were on fire, many more were scarred and with their shields down, vulnerable, ripe for the taking. Compared to the Novican losses it was insultingly little, but it was something and the commanders were clinging to every bit of hopeful news with fear.
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Verloff had no intention of giving them time to regain their senses. He had put the fear of God into them, but he was only starting. A singular tactic did not win the battle. He grinned. War was a great teacher. It forced you to evolve rapidly, or die. It was that simple. If you paid the price in blood, you learned from it. The Novicans had never paid this price until now, and he knew that many commanders, Kola especially, would improve tremendously after this. He did not look forward to fighting another Novican fleet after this. His battleships were burned out, their thrusters mangled and in need of replacing. Lebriski's fleet was clearing the minefield and would begin their turn within the hour, which would be an incredibly slow and painful task given that most of their capital ships needed new engines. Yet, once they'd arrive he'd be in major shit if they hadn't dealt with everything else. Lebriski was a fire-eater, he'd have witnessed everything and the man would be all the wiser for it. Worse, he'd be out of tricks to play at that point.
But not yet. For now, it was time for Idrina and her entire fleet to understand just how much the war with the Kra'lagh had taught them.
Novican warships raced forward. Their frontline was damaged, hurt, in complete disarray, but not crippled. Dreadnaughts were burning, but not destroyed. Battleship squadrons were leaderless and decimated, but not wiped out. Battlecruisers redlined their engines and weapon emplacements in a dangerous gambit to destroy the Hammers before their guns cooled off. They had at least five minutes, they knew that much from their previous experience with the Imperials, before that point.
The Imperials did not give them that time. The Hammers slowly rolled around, a move at first gone unnoticed amidst the blinding bombardment, but now becoming frighteningly clear as their second, fresh battery came into view. The Imperials didn't hesitate and opened fire once more. Complimenting their attack was the rest of the fleet, hanging half a million kilometres behind their main frontline bruisers. As formations were blown open and forcefully redirected, that data was transferred to them and they used their much more nimble vessels to rapidly assume position to hit the enemy where they were weak. As the Hammers began losing velocity through the sheer number of impacts they were suffering, the cruisers joined the fray, pouncing on weakened vessels and tearing them apart with glee. This time the Novican frontline dreadnaughts did not survive. Nova Cannons laid bare superstructures, concentrated lance batteries scourged hulls clean of defences and heavy missiles swooped in through the exposed areas, digging deeply into the gargantuan vessels before detonating violently, disrupting neural networks and eliminating entire reactor networks. The battleships that had survived the first barrage, some of which had made attempts of their own to mimic the Imperial manoeuvre, only to have their inertial dampeners give out and their thrusters blown out prematurely, were now targeted and swiftly eliminated.
In the span of seven minutes the Novican frontline was annihilated, leaving behind a massive field of debris that forced the Imperials to slow down significantly, smaller vessels having to tag near their larger companions as they blasted a safe path through the demolished fleet. The second wave overtook the first, their speed and fresh guns letting them clear the impromptu asteroid field much faster. The Novican second wave was in complete disarray, with most experienced commanders having been in the first wave and fear had taken a proper hold of the survivors. Their admiral had gone catatonic with fear and the Imperials, who had just wiped out a third of their fleet while barely slowing down, was now coming for them and announcing their presence with another heavy salvo of missiles.
What few sane commanders who were left alive knew that the battle was lost. None of them would survive the incoming onslaught, since the majority of their battleships and dreadnaughts had been in the first wave. They didn't have the required firepower left. Still, they could make everything worthwhile. They grouped up as much as they could and kept accelerating, knowing that the enemy was temporarily vulnerable within the debris-strewn field.
'Sir!' shouted communications. 'They figured out we're the command ship!'
'Let them!' roared Verloff. 'Tell them to hit us with everything! This is a dreadnaught, goddammit! Not a passenger liner!
'Sir! There's six dreadnaughts with their task forces heading our way! And another dozen task forces are screening them!' came the hurried addendum.
'Oh,' Verloff whispered as a wave of red broke out of the Novican formation and made a beeline for them. 'I didn't think they heard me.' Cindy looked at the Admiral, who for the first time since the battle started, was showing signs of unease.
'Bugger.'
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