The IAFS home fleet, for any who had been in the organisation for even a short length of time, was truly a
sight for sore eyes. Around a hundred ships were assembled, split between group A & B, many older ships like the Rinie that had been retrofitted for the current conflict – Other more modern vessels like the Valliere that had joined IAFS over the years from out of other militaries – And of course their pride and joy, the ships made by Bailey Mechanics exclusively for IAFS, the likes of the Celtic class battleships, Am-Fluchtig and Never-More.
Moreover they had all been painted over the last month of peace, the organisation's logos and other emblems plastered on the liveries of each warship – IAFS was hiding no longer, they had forced the TSU goverment, the largest goverment in existence, perhaps the most powerful organisation in all history, to the negotiation table – Today IAFS would guard the weapon with pride, their flags flying.
Kolme Nilas, acting Chief-of-Pilots for the Tristian Fleet (Group B) had one heck of a view to all this.
The weapon was large, in terms of length it went for miles – As per the plan the admiral had so carefully laid out, the ships and mechs of group B were at the back end of the weapon to the east, positioned around its control centre – A black office-block looking building, seemingly stapled onto the back of the vastly larger weapon-shaft itself.
From here, using the magnification of his Neo's camera, Kolme could just about make out the far western side of the weapon, where in front of its 'mouth' stood the IAFS home fleet.
The plan was detailed, painstakingly so – Kolme was sure it must have taken the admiral's staff sleepless nights to get it all ready in time for today. Each and every ship in the fleet had specific orders, carefully chosen placements.
Weapons had been synced, firing angles optimised, sensor arrays linked together – Even the pilot squads had each received thorough guidelines and placements within the formation – Mechanics and engineers told what repairs to prioritise over others, which protocols to rely on most.
Now that detail was bearing fruit – The Home-Fleet was symmetrically aligned in a spider like web, it would allow all 66 or so warships, big and small, to fire simultaneously at the incoming TSU-s force – Nemo's had already been spread out in great numbers between these many ships, field-cabins and supply-caravans at the ready to make sure the pilots could rest and resupply as fast as possible.
And of course, with the fleet being so close to the weapon, the enemy would have to be extremely careful with its return fire, lest they destroy the very thing they wanted to take back.
It had, Kolme now released as he sat in his cabin looking out at the grand spectacle, been the better part of 5 years since he had last partaken in a battle this well planned – It was honestly a good feeling, to know the admiral and his deputies really cared about giving them all the best chance, not just of winning but also surviving.
If they could pull this off, wipe out the TSU-s fleet here and now – Then even if the Union goverment threatened to use the general navy forces – IAFS would still of succeeded in their goal of destroying the extremist branch of TSU – That would no doubt be the push needed, for their allies, for the dozens of nation-satellites and countries throughout the solar system, to finally announce their public support of IAFS and demand reform for the better – If they could win today, something they might actually stand a chance at – Then everything might finally change for the better.
And then it began – A tsunami of firebolts.
Kolme's machine didn't have the equipment needed to see much past the end of the weapon, it certainly couldn't see the approaching TSU-s forces – In fact it would be a few hours yet until even the Home-Fleet's Nemos would be able to see.
This would be a true fleet battle, computers pre-programmed with specific co-ordinates, firing into the endless dark – For what was estimated to be the next 5 hours atleast, the battle would take place between IAFS and TSU-s, without either side actually being able to see the other – This is what all out warship combat looked like, when energy beams could travel through space for hours before ever dissipating.
The hard work had paid off, the IAFS ship's all fired their first volley at almost the exact same seconds – hundreds of cannons let loose all at once, beams of orange, pink, red and yellow coursing across space to a place Kolme couldn't even see.
A few minutes later, and plenty more rainbow volleys fired – And the first of the fireworks showed up to those in the Tristian Fleet watching on – Though they couldn't see the TSU-s ships yet, they could just about see the impact, the colourful explosions as the cannon fire hit its mark – So far away from them that it seemed more like sparklers, little flickers of explosive light on the horizon to indicate they were drawing first blood.
'12 enemies downed was the worst case scenario – It all depends on the TSU-s formation and leadership, its possible we could take out 20 or 30 of their ships before Vijaiks are ever launched! We... We can really win this!!'
Kolme allowed himself a moment of genuine hope as the barrage continued, as the enemy hesitated, having yet to fire back, probably afraid to hit the weapon – The plan was good, the plan was working!
“Commander Novel sir? We are picking up a strange reading.”
Kolme had been promoted, or atleast temporarily bumped up in rank – To the highest rank an IAFS pilot could achieve no less, Acting-Chief-of-Pilots for the Tristian Fleet – This in mind he was added to a particular comms channel.
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It included a direct link to every bridge in the fleet, 33 in all, plus other important people, such as the group currently occupying and guarding the weapon's control centre.
This communication had come from the bridge of a small destroyer class ship, a vessel that had been assigned to quite literally sit on top of the weapon's control centre, an absolute last line of defence against anyone who might try and 'sneak in' like the Tradech has so successful done over a month ago.
A moment later another ship, a cruiser class this time and also quite near the control centre, radioed in aswell;
“Same here commander, massive energy build up?”
It spread like a wave – First to all the ships of group B, then to even the Nemo pilots whom Kolme also had a radio link to.
A Nemo's sensors were not particularly powerful at long range, for even them to be picking up this strange reading meant it had to be massive, colossal.
Soon Kolme too, who was quiet some way out from the weapon, was also picking up the signal.
“Base command come in? Repeat command come in? Have you been compromised, hello?” That voice Kolme knew, it belonged to Charlie, the Fluchtig's communication operator.
A few more requests for confirmation from Charlie and with all lines now a buzz with all manner of officers and pilots alike shouting at one another – It was Nate's voice that next stood out amongst it all to Kolme;
"Admiral Louise come in Sir! IAFS command vessel Never-More, this is the Am-Fluchtig, do you read me? Anyone damn-it?!”
“The energy build up, its jamming long range comms sir!” Charlie's young voice said back.
“Damn-it all! Admiral can you hear me!? We have to abort Sir, move the fleet – The weapon is going to fir--”
Nate never got to finish that sentence, or if he did Kolme certainly didn't hear it.
A shockwave rumbled out from the rear of the long tubular body that was the weapon – Buffeting at the Vijaiks of group B, throwing them about above – But most of them, like Kolme, hardly even noticed this, for their eyes were all transfixed on the opposite side of the weapon all those miles away.
Kolme knew he didn't have much vocabulary to speak of, he certainly couldn't describe the horror mixed with ethereal beauty that is a Vijaik explosion – He stood no chance of explaining what he'd seen when Una had sacrificed herself in a ball of light to beat the Casnel, a heat so magnificent, so large that is seemingly outshine the sun for just a moment.
What Kolme Nilas saw before him now was on an entirely different scale, a monumentally greater one.
If the shaft, the length of the weapon was as wide as entire cities, then the diameter of the tube – The actually size of the projectile it fired, was also ridiculous.
It was only now he truly understood what this 'thing' they were guarding really was – He'd been here with the rest of the fleet for weeks, cracking jokes at how stupid a thing it was, how much money had been wasted – How 'evil' it made TSU-s look, more than they already did.
But now he understood – The barrels diameter was the width of a small town, it dwarfed even the largest warships – And it wasn't clever.
It was a signature TSU-s, 'big hammer solution' – It was no different to the double barrel cannon on the back of Kolme's Neo-C, scale that up a few times and you got the guns on the Never-More, that had been firing so fervently until just a moment ago. And scale those up, keep scaling them up bigger and bigger, stupidly, outrageously, preposterously bigger – And what you got was the weapon.
It wasn't clever, it didn't use some new weapon technology, or clever energy source, nor divine power from a cruel god – No it was just a gaint gun.
Its whole body glowed, miles of rolling metal glowed a golden light, seeping out through the machine – And from its mouth, the greatest beam of power anyone had ever seen in all of history was sent forth.
The Home-Fleet, all 66 ships, seemed to just disappear – One moment they were valiantly firing, holding the line against the approaching enemy – The next they were all gone, completely consumed by the throbbing, billowing pillar of endless golden, nearly searing hot-white light that stretched out into space forever.
Kolme had no words, his mind was blank – As the seconds thumbed forward, the pillar continued, the weapon itself still glowing, shaking violently, pulsating brilliantly - Inside the pillar would sometimes be a secondary explosion of reds and black – It would last only a moment, blink and you'd miss it – Miss the last moments of a warship, of a 1000 lives quenched in an instant.
To the edges of the explosion some IAFS ships were fleeing – The Home-Fleet had been spread out, not all ship's were hit directly – But even these stranglers on the outskirts of the pillar, were aflame.
It didn't take much to realise why, the heat of the blast was so intense, so powerful – That just being near it was causing the warships to explode and overheat from the inside out – Pillar of flames would shoot out, only to quench in the vacuum of space, before another would take hold.
The Tristian Fleet watched as one escaping ship imploded, its generator having overheated it buckled in half in vibrant violence, knocking into another escaping ship next to it.
After a full horrifying 60 seconds, the pillar finally 'thinned' out, the energy of it began to dissipate – The glow along the weapons body passing – Kolme stared at what remained when the beam fully seized – Where once had stood the proud 66 ships and a few hundred mecha – Was now nothing but an endless field of wreckage, of torn metal – All of it completely black, there was no way to tell what ship had been where, or even what shard of metal might once of been a Vijaik – Just a graveyard of blackened shards.
****