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The Tale of G.O.D.
98. ~Decision~

98. ~Decision~

“I want to return madness with madness.”

- Prime Minister, Jannas

***Outer Rim***

***Levvi Batlin***

“We paid dearly for that.” My military advisor looks at me. “I suggest executing the person who was in command of that strike group.”

I wave him off. “I was the one who ordered them to force the engagement. It was clear that something like that was likely to happen, but I wanted the information. Now we know that their armour may be good, but it's clearly not good enough. The man should get a medal for going through with the attack despite the obvious danger.”

Though, I have a silent suspicion that he wasn't aware of what was coming. We choose our front-line commanders for their ability to follow orders, not because they think for themselves.

Then I look around my flagship's command centre. Only my closest advisers are present, waiting diligently for my orders while they manage the different components of our fleet.

“That still leaves the huge asteroids in the centre of their formation. There is no way to destroy those things with lasers or plasma fire,” one of them speaks up. It's Zenek, a blue-skinned Lethargian. When I don't correct him, he takes it as a sign to proceed, “It's unlikely that they will use their battle stations as kinetic projectiles against the planet, but I assume that these hunks of rock do pretty well as shields to close the distance. Even if we put out enough energy to melt one of them completely, it will still tank the shots for any ship hiding in its shadow. We should start thinking of countermeasures.”

Virald, a Selin with the sharpest claws I have ever seen, steps in. She points at the tactical map between me and my eight advisers, tapping her claws on the system's star. “I won't say that it isn't a possibility, but if they intend to use their ships in this manner, then why didn't they do so from the start? Why are they biding their time at the nearby star? They are just sitting there. We've all read the reports on their psychology and I can tell you, they are up to something. Demons don't have the same concept of self-preservation as most other sentient species. If they wanted a head-on confrontation, then they would have already done so.”

I keep listening to their different opinions, giving each one some thought.

Testing the Demon's ships came at a high price, but that's what happens when a fleet gets caught off guard and stumbles into a direct shoot-out with a force ten times their size. Our opponents had all the advantages, but that won't always be the case. The test showed us that we would have the upper hand when it comes to firepower.

The fact that our battle group faired so poorly was only due to the fact that we pressed to see their hand and that their commander obviously didn't fall on his head.

Ouluk points at the console in front of me. “Sir, that light is blinking since a minute ago. Someone is requesting a direct channel to you.”

I look down and note that the connection request is coming from the planet. The Prip's Prime Minister wants to speak to me. Sighing, I decline the request, knowing very well that the Prip and their handful of ships can do nothing in this case. They will just have to wait until their fate is decided for them by other powers.

For now, there are more urgent matters to deal with. Like finding out why the Demons parked their entire fleet so close to the local star. TG-23-B3 is a yellow sun which is on the verge of becoming a red giant. The process will still take a few more million years, but on a galactic scale, the star may be a very interesting research object. Nothing of tactical value or interest though.

Being so near to a bright object makes it harder for us to observe what they are doing. At the same time, the distance makes it impossible for them to attack us. It could be that they are trying to draw us away from the Prip homeworld, but I'll be damned if I just give up the planet. Whatever they want with this world, I have a feeling that I won't like it. That's enough of a reason to sit here until they get tired of the waiting game.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Radiation spike from the star!”

The urgent call of one of my advisers draws my attention.

He types something into his console. “Now it's gone.”

I call up the information which he is looking at. Sure enough, my flagship's sensor array detected a spike in the star's brightness. It lasted for approximately half a second, but it was strong enough to trigger an alarm.

The likeliness of a star going supernova while we are in system is next to nothing. How unlucky would we have to be for something so unfortunate to happen? In any case, this star isn't the type to turn into a nova. It will slowly balloon outwards as it ages, but like I said, that process may take millions of years. There certainly won't be a flash of light, killing everything in the system.

So, what by the core worlds is going on? “Tell the scouting ships to get closer to the star. We have to know what they are up to.”

“Another radiation spike. It looks like-” the words of one of my officers are cut off when a ship in our formation stops responding, and the computer systems immediately direct our attention to the scene.

What was a mid-sized cruiser just moments ago, is now a large piece of brightly glowing metal. The colour is pure white, indicating that the temperature is well over a thousand degrees. From time to time, a bubble escapes to the surface, allowing a stream of superheated atmosphere to escape the ship.

“Evasive manoeuvres!” I order, suspecting some sort of unknown superweapon. “Spread out. Widen the formation. I don't know how they are targeting us, but it can't be easy at this distance. How are they doing it!? They are several lightminutes out!”

Rem, a science officer, raises a wet tentacle. “Solar sails, Sir. We just got visual confirmation from one of the scouts who is in a position slightly above the solar horizon. It allows him to not get blinded.”

“Aren't solar sails an antiquated means of propulsion?” one of my advisers asks, intrigued. “Why would they use such a method when they clearly have fusion engines? Some of their colonies are even deploying a form of gravity propulsion.”

My science officer ignores the fact that our ships are now getting turned into molten slag at regular intervals. Every few seconds a vessel lights up like a little star, all our shielding completely ineffective. At this rate, it will take the demons days to whittle down our fleet, but the fact that my great armada is in the process of slowly getting vivisected is unnerving.

What is even more infuriating is that there doesn't seem to be anything we can do about it unless we leave our guard position around the planet.

“Solar sails are large reflective surfaces – mirrors. I assume that they are using them to collect and focus the local star's radiation. Sufficiently focused, they have a never-ending laser light of immense power at their disposal. It's very likely that they aren't even accurately aiming it. There is no need. Instead, they are just sweeping it back and forth, aiming at the area around the planet. I find it rather impressive that they found a way to focus the beam over such a distance,” the science officer babbles, his voice full of fascination. “The rate at which they pick off ships means that the beam is a few hundred metres wide, still a remarkable feat if we take the distance into account. They must be deploying several dozen square kilometres of solar sail, though I have no idea how they focus the energy.”

“It's like a child playing with a magnifying lens!” Ouluk nods frantically, signalling his understanding for the other scientist. Then his enthusiasm drops. “I just don't like being the bug. Can we hide somehow?”

“I don't care about their technical skills! What matters, is that they can do it!” I grumble. “I want those solar sails gone! Order the fleet to shoot kinetic projectiles at their location and tell everyone to retreat behind the planet and the moon. If we are lucky, then they won't be able to move those sails quickly. They can fry the Prip if they really want to.”

“The distance is too great. Those sails must be huge, but they will have hours to move them out of the way and our lasers and plasma weapons don't have the reach,” an overeager officer informs me.

“Then tell me what we can do, aside from getting shot at or accelerating towards them.” This situation isn't acceptable.

Ouluk shrugs. “I think that we have to make a decision. General, you said that defending this planet is a matter of principle. But we obviously can't do that by sitting in its orbit. The only other options are to leave or to attack. Which will it be?”

I hate being told what to do, but Ouluk is right. At this point, our only real option is to retreat or to attack. If I had known about this solar weapon beforehand, I would have placed a part of my fleet near the sun to stop them from deploying it.

Looking up at the ceiling, I address the Assistant. “Assistant, what would happen if we charge the enemy with the whole fleet?”

There is a long moment of silence before the device answers. “Going by the current rate of loss, charging the enemy fleet wouldn't be advisable. None of our ships have a sufficient defence against this attack and the fleet would be out in the open during the approach. It's likely that their accuracy will improve as we close in. More than half the fleet would be lost before we arrive at our destination.

“Another option would be to spread out and to approach from as many angles as possible. Given the nature of this weapon, there must be dead zones which can't be targeted on a whim. The downside of this strategy would be that it requires our forces to be hopelessly spread out. The enemies would be able to pick and choose targets at their leisure if they choose to defend the device in an offensive manner. By picking out weak elements, they would be outgunning us in any scenario.”

I forcefully press my sensory tentacles together as the machine makes taking the offensive sounding less and less desirable. If only I had known that they have such a weapon. The bastards simply walked past us and turned the star into their fortress! I could have placed minefields around the local sun. Positioned a part of my fleet there.

“What if we warp there?” I ask, already knowing the answer. All my advisers who have the slightest idea of how warp-technology works look at me with horrified expressions.

“Inadvisable. We would lose many ships due to malfunctions. It would be pure chaos. Using warp technology inside a star-system is dangerous at the best of times, using it close to a planet is utter foolishness, and warping in that close to a star is just asking for death.”

Deflating, I slowly admit that this isn't a battle worth fighting. We will get them some other time when they don't have that superweapon deployed.

“Tell the fleet to ready themselves for departure. This isn't a battle we want to fight.” I look down at the map and zoom in on the Prip homeworld. “Target the planet. Whatever they want from the Prip, make sure that all they get is glass and dust!”