“What!? Sinn! No!” On the Phantasm's bridge, the announcement struck April through her heart. She spun around, coming face to face with Sinn. “No! We can't do that!”
Whether it was retreating from battle, abandoning Specter, or going public with their nav data, April would have none of it. Too much had already been invested to abandon all hope.
“We have to,” Sinn replied. “There's no choice.”
“Aero hasn't given up either. He should have something–”
“Believe me, there isn’t.” Sinn shook his head in resignation.
“But there has to be –”
“I'm sorry.”
Sinn, the ever optimistic, ever confident org leader, stood on her bridge, conceding in defeat. The image made April snap. “Why did I even ask Legius to rescue you!?”
He flinched, and he looked to April in shock. The weight of her words rebounded against her.
“Sorry, Sinn… but… isn't there anything we can still do?”
Sinn stared at her for a few seconds. April understood he wasn't reconsidering the order, but instead scrutinizing her as a person. She trembled as the seconds stretched to an eternity.
Finally, Sinn sighed. “If you have any better ideas, we'd be happy to hear them.”
“We could… um...” April glanced at the holomap, centered on their destroyer. Surrounding it flew the remnants of the Wraiths fleet, huddled under Libra Station's shield. Outside the station shields, the still countless Crimson Suns flew, with each ship sapping away at their last lifeline.
“April, really. We've done everything we could for Specter today.”
“But...” Nothing came to her. Each train of thought reached a dead end. Every stream of data painted a clearer picture of defeat. Far from defending the system, April couldn't even imagine how their forces might escape total annihilation.
“Can you think of anything?”
April stared at her feet, shaking her head. “I – there's something. We can't just lose everything… I don't know what, but I know there's something…”
“Then have some faith.” Sinn grinned. “Aero will find a way. There's a reason you like him, right?”
“Huh?” April jumped. Her face turned red. “Well, yes…”
“Oh, good. You've admitted it.”
“Wait. Sinn! That has nothing to do with this! Why'd you bring that up now!?”
Mirth exuded from Sinn's face. “Don't worry, April, we're not giving up yet. Not on this battle, and not on Specter either. Aero and I will figure something out. So please, trust us. Alright?”
“What? But – I mean… God! Have it your way!”
“Thanks.” Sinn turned to face the blank screen. “Comms! Reconnect me to Libra Station.”
“Yes sir,” the NPC replied, and Aero appeared on the bridge screen.
“It's about time Aero,” Sinn said. “Are you ready?”
“And your plan?”
That's too simple. Not to mention the station’s too heavy to move that fast… April had also thought that far but concluded it wasn't enough. She looked between the two roommates in confusion.
“There's always more to your plans, Aero,” Sinn chuckled.
The screen blanked out.
“Okay April,” Sinn said, “can you handle command still? Or should I take over from here?”
“I'll do it.” April had no desire to sit out. She turned back to the screen and confirmed the ship's status.
The Phantasm's shield capacitors neared full. Its weapons cooling systems functioned as normal. A mere twelve high explosive torpedoes remained, but those could still be put to good use. Her crew already repaired the minor damage incurred in the prior skirmishes.
Confident in the ship’s readiness, April cleared her mind and grounded herself for their final push. Her thoughts zeroed in on the Suns which stood in their way. With a deep breath, she stood by, ready to act.
“By the way,” Sinn said. “When are you going to properly ask Mark out?”
----------------------------------------
“Shields at sixty percent,” Engineering announced.
We should get going, Aero thought. The Crimson Suns’ fleet, still arranged in perfect formation, bombarded the station shields without pause. His own fleet had completed their preparations. “Power down anti-fighter guns. Overclock the counterbalance generators by fifty percent.”
“Sir, the heat would melt the counterbalance modules.”
“That's the point,” Aero said. Constructed at great expense, Libra Station possessed several redundant generators connected to a station-wide energy grid. This allowed each module to function as normal should its grid conduits be disconnected, and it also enabled excess capacity to be redirected at will. Furthermore, damage from one generator failure or meltdown could be limited to its respective module.
“Shield loss stabilized,” the NPC said. “Two minutes until counterbalance module meltdown.”
“Push maneuvering thrusters to full,” Aero said. “Initiate deorbit burn.”
“Yes sir.”
A small jolt shook the command center. By slowing its orbital speed, the station would eventually fall into the gate, all the while providing shield cover for the Wraith’s fleet. Aero activated his comms unit. “We’re moving.”
Their shattered fleet, left with one destroyer, one frigate, and nine fighters, regrouped on the move. The Suns reacted within seconds. Rather than continue attacking from a distance, the enemy fleet maneuvered to intercept the station’s fall. Nearly four dozen torpedoes launched from their ships.
Fuck. They still have so many?
The Wraiths used every gun available. Their shots turned plenty of torpedoes into scrap, but most arrived unhindered. The remaining projectiles slammed into his shields. The station groaned as its capacitors discharged, and Aero’s heart sank. “Shield status!”
“Thirty percent,” Engineering reported.
“Sensors, track down their IDCs. Comms, relay target data to the Phantasm.” A small fraction of the Suns’ frigates possessed ionic disruptor cannons, and those ships disproportionately damaged his station shields. On his map, eight of the red frigates changed colors to yellow. Aero prioritized these targets to slow the bleeding. He flipped his comms switch again. “April, primary those flagged ships.”
And pray they don’t have many more torpedoes…
Three violet beams burst from the destroyer’s turrets. The salvo illuminated a Wu Jian frigate and dissipated its shield energy. A second barrage finished the job.
The enemy countered again. Before April moved to her next target, their frigates paired together and their shields superimposed. The formation sacrificed offensive potential to maximize defensive strength, but Aero lacked the ships exploit the fact.
“Gunner, transfer station fire control to the Phantasm,” Aero commanded. He could only focus the Wraiths attacks further to pierce the overlapping shields. In sync, the combined power of six plasma turrets could pierce through the Suns’ new ship formation, but only at a sloth's pace compared to before.
“One minute until generator failure,” Engineering announced.
A little more...
Two groups of Duvi’s dove under the station shields. The Suns pushed past the Phantasm and its fields of anti-fighter fire with their shields glowing cyan. Countless missiles streamed from their formations, and the swarm plowed into Myles’s ship. Its engines, maneuvering thrusters, and sensors all disintegrated in the storm. Aero cringed as Myles and their last frigate vanished amid the flames.
Fuck. They don’t even care about our fighters anymore. The enemy fleet commander sacrificed fourteen fighters to sink a single frigate, a costly trade the Suns could afford to make.
“Sir! Thirty seconds until counterbalance module meltdown.”
“Reduce our shield radius to half,” Aero replied. “Recall all ships.”
The station shields shrank, exposing Libra's outer modules. His surviving ships retreated, staying just under the waning cyan sphere. With less space to recover, his shields slowly recharged their energy.
The Suns’ formation charged forwards. Their cannons pounded against the station's defenses, reducing its shields further. The Wraiths shot back, picking off a frigate and three fighters in exchange.
“Ten seconds until meltdown.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Reactivate anti-fighter weapons,” Aero said. Take the bait…
The Suns' fleet threatened to cross the station's shield radius, and their sixteen Wu Jians had enough firepower to overwhelm Libra Station in seconds. A successful traversal would signal the Wraith's total defeat.
“Five seconds.”
The outer modules' weapons sparked to life. The guns peppered the Suns' frigates with plasma and set their shields alight.
Take the bait…
“Generator status lost,” the NPC reported.
Come on…
Another set of torpedoes emerged from the enemy frigates and split into three groups. They streaked toward the counterbalance modules unopposed.
“YES!” Aero jumped up and down, pumping his fist as he celebrated.
The torpedoes slammed into each of the station's exposed modules. Cracks appeared on the module surfaces, glowing with ever increasing intensity. Liquid iron soon erupted from the counterbalance modules. The glowing fluid engulfed the space in the station vicinity. Alarms shrieked as their shield's energy plummeted. Aero tripped as the command center rocked, recoiling from the modules' detonation.
With its thrusters still at full, Libra Station plummeted toward the gate faster than ever. The physics was simple. With almost half the station’s mass ejected, the remaining modules experienced nearly twice the acceleration. Aero collided with the floor, but he didn't care. Rather, he suppressed every impulse to laugh. Outside, fighters tumbled and burst, their shields overwhelmed by the molten spray. Frigate formations collapsed as each ship retreated to evade destruction. Their chance had presented itself. “April! Sinn! Clear the path!”
The station began to shake. “Sir! Shields are at five percent!”
“Chief!” Aero sat up. “How long until our ships can transit?”
“Two minutes,” the station chief responded.
“Gunner, shut down all weapons systems. Engineering, overclock all reactors by thirty.” With only half its generator capacity remaining, Aero pushed all the station’s available power into its shields and thrusters to buy every second possible.
“Shields are still falling sir!”
I guess that’s it. Aero sighed. “All crew, abandon station. Evacuate to the transfer shuttle.”
The floor swayed beneath Aero’s feet. He grabbed onto the nearest console as the NPC officers slid and stumbled out the door. After his crew filed out, the station chief looked back through the command center door. “What about you, sir?”
“I’ll be fine,” Aero said. To think a program knows when to be worried…
“In that case, good luck sir.” The NPC attempted to salute, but an explosion rocked the room and he stumbled backward through the door again.
“Thanks,” Aero chuckled. He turned back to his holomap. A gap in the Suns fleet had formed between Libra Station and Specter Gate. Aero switched his comms panel on one last time. “All ships, traverse the gate. April, I’m sending my crew to you.”
“No. Someone has to watch until the end,” Aero said. “I’ll meet you guys back in the lobby.”
The transmission ended. A crackle echoed through the station. Its shields had failed and explosions directly battered the modules. Then, the attacks stopped.
Confused, Aero looked to his holomap. Without shields and with its weapons offline, Libra Station drew no attention while the Phantasm and six fighters flew engaged with eight Wu Jian frigates and nine Duvi fighters. It was an even match in theory, had this been the start of their engagement. Aero toyed with the idea of having the Wraiths reverse course to attack the remaining enemies, but most the Sun frigates had restored their shield energy.
All the Suns converged on the Phantasm’s position. Their attacks whittled down its shields as they approached the traversal point.
Time for some insurance. Aero pulled himself to the weapons control station. The screen indicated two turrets remained intact with some remaining energy. After a few button presses, the guns sparked to life on auto-target mode. Not enough to destroy any more frigates, but enough to provide a distraction.
One final strike hit two enemy frigates. Three of their frigates turned their guns toward him.
Aero watched his orgmates disappear into the gate. His display went blank. Another blast jolted the floor. The entire room listed, and Aero fell onto another console. He placed his hand on its screen and accessed the player menu.
“Return to lobby,” he said.
With the last image of their command center locked in his mind, Aero’s vision faded to black.
----------------------------------------
By the time Sinn arrived in the Temple Wraith's lobby, thirty sparks floated in silence. A few splintered in anger, some swayed in dismay, but most drifted in defeat.
Great. Time to cheer the guys up.
Sinn willed his spark toward the lobby center. With the most cheerful voice he could muster, he began his pep talk. “Great job guys. The result wasn’t what we wanted, but we did far better than anyone else could possibly do.”
A few voices murmured agreement. The rest remained silent.
Not enough. Right. Sinn found a white spark floating nearby motioned toward it. “In particular, great job to Aero for somehow making all those crazy ideas work. Everyone, please, give him a round of applause.”
“Huh?” A magenta spark, April, wobbled in confusion. “How do we do that without hands?”
Thanks for biting, April. Chuckles spread through the crowd, and Sinn grinned inwardly.
“But really guys,” Sinn continued. His spark illuminated half the room. “Look at the bright side. The Suns launched a surprise attack with what? Forty-five frigates and seventeen fighter or bomber squadrons?”
“That’s right,” Aero responded. “Much more than we planned for.”
“Even so, we survived this round. Any other org would have been wiped out, but we survived. The Phantasm is intact and safely parked in Hephaestus, and we still have a few fighters to spare.”
“Arms and a Leg got the ship’s schematics in exchange though,” Stevie said.
“One step closer to an alliance, and besides, there’s no safer parking spot in Parallax. Not even S&B would attack them without second thoughts,” Sinn said. “Besides, I bet we set another CDR record today too.”
“Another record I wish we didn’t have,” Aero sighed. “Though I guess the Suns feel that way too.”
Laughter. The sweet sound levity from his org’s members graced Sinn’s ears and soothed his nerves.
Great. We’re finally getting somewhere. Sinn’s spark expanded to its fullest. “Anyways, our next objective is obvious. Those Suns thought they could make a point by taking Specter from us. Well, why don’t we take that point and shove it up their ass?”
Cheers of agreement.
“So what if they have the numbers? Who cares if they’re well organized? We’re the Temple Wraiths! That’s never stopped us before.”
More cheers. The crowd bounced with vigor. Their bitterness toward the Suns fueled them. Their disappointment and frustration empowered them. Their swagger revived, and once again, no challenge felt too great for them to overcome.
“That star, its planets, all those little asteroids? All of them are ours! We’re taking back Specter, and we’ll take it before those dying Suns even know what hit them! What do you say? You guys with me?”
The field of sparks roared. A rainbow of colors danced in their digital space. As an org leader, few scenes brought Sinn such satisfaction, for it was in these moments where his personal sacrifices for the group paid off.
Content, Sinn focused on their next task. “Stevie, replace our fleet as soon as possible. Aero and I will –”
“Wait. Sinn?” the green spark replied. “We’re practically broke right now.”
All movement froze, and silence fell on the lobby once more.
“Huh?” Sinn shifted over to Stevie’s spark. “Really?”
“Developing Specter took most our cash and assets you know. We might be able to replace the frigates and some fighters with our reserve funds, but…”
Oh. Shit. Sinn’s spark diminished in size. He had forgotten the cost of their rapid system development. Shaking away his embarrassment, his spark brightened. “Well, we never let a lack of funding stop us either. We'll just grab the necessary power another way.”
“Another way? Do you mean…” Aero stopped short of asking his question.
“Exactly. We’ll join another dominion war.”