Through the Abyss

by Daniel Litchfield

  Bloody splotches from fallen corpses and open wounds painted the floor around the stands while random piles of vomit from exhausted survivors added to the stench. As the guests returned to their original depravity, more drinks were set out. This time, each one contained powerful aphrodisiacs with a ticket placed at the bottom of each beverage. Once a guest finished, he handed the ticket to a Palace supervisor who brought out a beautiful young Natron girl, the same box attached to her spine, for their enjoyment.

  Indus ignored the disturbance of his guests clambering over their new toys. He sat in a booth with four of his slaves, his hands never ceasing to caress their exotic skin. His mind was completely spent with substances and drinks. The Emperor’s speech had become nearly incomprehensible and his inhibitions knew no bounds. Growing bored with the slaves, he spotted a better vantage point on the far end of the dungeon. Gingerly he rose to his feet and made his way across the wantonness.

  Along the way, he passed partiers playing a game that they had created earlier in the evening. Dice were rolled onto the table by each participant. Whoever had the highest role had to consume an intoxicating substance while the lowest roller had to perform a “task” that the members at the table came up with. Currently, one of the wealthiest people in the Galactic Group was running wild around the table completely naked, shouting obscenities in every language imaginable. The partiers at the table were almost in a state of hysteria laughing at the man.

  The next table had a group of six guests clambering to have their way with one of the servants working the party. Her penetrating sobs made their way to Indus who intervened. After scolding the group for touching one of his personal slaves, he handed them another woman and continued on his way. As he left, he could hear giggling and the sounds of metallic objects being placed on the table as the cries from another erupted.

  Emperor Indus finally reached his desired table. Sitting down, his eyes lustfully wandered over the abundance of unopened drinks and substances, almost too many to choose from. Just as he was about to grab a drink that would cause intense euphoria and stimulation to prepare him for the gift that was waiting for him from Pamir, a large hand grabbed the Emperor’s shoulder and spun him around. Indus’s red eyes screamed bloody murder by the time the giant had turned him. Empirical Admiral Krasny stood like a statue as Emperor Indus became infuriated that someone other than a woman would dare touch him without permission.

  Pinch! A needle was left stuck in Indus’s left shoulder. His face almost appeared to be contorting into a gargoyle with vexation. The raging Emperor grabbed for any sort of weapon to smash into Krasny’s face. Finally deciding to rip out the needle and use it against his enemy, Indus squared up for the fight of his life. Krasny showed no fear at the Emperor’s outburst however, which quickly dissipated once the furious brain received the sobering medicine from the shot.

  Recognizing the face and dropping the syringe, “Krasny! What brings you here? Are you finally going to blow off a little steam with me?” Indus said excitedly, hoping to finally corrupt his closest advisor.

  “Negative Sir, there is something else that brings me here. I must insist that this be a private conversation.” The giant replied.

  Admiral Krasny surveyed the enormous room. Smoke had begun to billow in one of the corners where several guests sat smoking from a large ceramic device. A random guest was passed out on the dance floor with bottles strategically stacked all around and on top of him. In the back left corner, Krasny spied a man groping a slave who had lost consciousness. Nearby, six guests were entangled on a bed, their bodies looking like a nest of knotted snakes as they squirmed around.

  The highest ranking Officer in the Baikal Military, Krasny was a giant both physically and politically. Standing at 7’ 3”, weighing three hundred pounds with an athletic build, he exuded leadership and a demand for respect. Krasny was born into a farmer’s family, dirt poor and in crippling debt. Krasny decided to re-contract once his mandatory military service had ended in order to continue helping his family pay off its debts. The Empirical Admiral worked through the ranks and ended up being able to not only rescue his family, but move them to a nicer planet where they would never again have to worry about their next meal. Krasny had a rather dull personality, much like that of a stone! What he lacked in charisma, however, he made up for with tactical brilliance. The fact that he had a photogenic memory wasn’t bad either!

  When Indus jokingly asked Krasny if he was joining the party, the giant barely moved a muscle in his face. The Emperor, however, had worked with him long enough to recognize the minute facial expressions and knew something important was up. “Fair enough. Lead the way I guess.”

  The pair hastily exited the licentiousness, and the sounds of laughter and giggles slowly faded away. Shortly after leaving, they ran into the wife of one of the men in the private party. Sitting on a chair weeping, she wore a beautiful black and white dress that hugged her exceptionally fit body. While the dress portrayed happiness and pleasure, the noises cascading from the woman proclaimed distress and pain on a whole new personal level of hell.

  Remarkably touched, Emperor Indus excused himself from Krasny and walked over to the distressed wife. He crouched down to his knees in order to be able to directly look at her. Her mascara was smeared and blush smudged from her tears. The Emperor gently took her hands into his own. “Sweetheart, my dear, how may I help you?” The Emperor inquired, genuinely concerned for her emotional state. The woman divulged to the Emperor, kneeling in front of her, that her husband had left their anniversary early to attend the private party, leaving her alone for hours. Emperor Indus helped her to her feet and hugged her tight. As the two let go of their embrace, he assured her that her husband would be home shortly and would apologize for his inconsiderate actions. The relieved woman kissed Indus’s cheeks and then bowed low to the ground, asking permission to return home. Indus smiled politely and sent her on her way.

  “Cat, see to it that Bayan gets home safely to his wife. Also, let him know that if I find out that he didn’t apologize, then I will personally make sure he is never able to express his sympathy again.”

  “On it Sir. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?” Cat’s voice answered without appearing.

  “Not at this moment, thank you,” Indus replied before returning his attention to Krasny. “Alright. Sorry about that. So, what were you about to say?”

  Empirical Admiral Krasny mentally shook his head but revealed no sign of frustration at how the Emperor could just flip a switch and be a blood thirsty monster one second, and a genuine human being the next. “Well Sir, while I am glad that I come to bring good news, I regret to inform you that your attendance is required elsewhere. Our response teams for the Natron attack on Zeiyan are approaching their targets.”

  Indus quietly groaned, his buzz from the moment starting to wear off with the realization of missing the end to his party. “Well then, keep leading the way.”

  The two made the six minute walk to the Palace’s external Command Center. Along the way, countless empty rooms, seemingly never ending hallways, bedrooms, closets, and miniature apartments were passed by the men. Eerie statues of mystical beasts and demons clung to the walls, following the pair with their ruby red eyes. A few labored screams and moans echoed down the hallways, sending a tremor down Krasny’s spinal column when he thought of all of the horrors that occurred in this place.

  Royal Guards patrolled the grounds and protected doors meant to only be opened by a select few individuals. They wore the uniforms of the Royal Guards for the First Empirical Era of the Baikal Empire’s premier ruling family. Short Horns were attached to their scarlet helmets and blood red capes cascaded down from their shoulders. Their white armored plates had blood stains on them that all Emperors refused to let them clean. The stains came from their final interview with the Emperor, who had each prospective guard kill a prisoner in order to prove their devotion. However, Emperor Indus took it one step further when he had the victim
s’s blood literally drained onto the newly pinned Royal Guards. In his eyes, the blood stained uniform made them appear as if they had just come from an apocalyptic battle.

  As the pair entered the palace’s Command Center, a massive data display filled the middle of the open room while Senior Officers in their dress uniforms paced around it. Brought to attention by their arrival, everyone stood at attention until Indus took a seat in an oversized command chair facing the data display. Once he had settled in, Indus ordered, “As you were gentlemen,” releasing the Command Center from having to stand like statues any longer.

  Pamir, suspiciously sweaty, broke the silence. “Sir, we have eleven minutes until our assaulting forces exit jump. While they can’t see it, our scout teams show that they will arrive in the perfect location. Empirical Admiral Krasny will brief you on the specifics.”

  The Emperor acknowledged the words spoken with a monotone voice. “Understood, thank you.”

  Krasny stepped out into the data display, “Sir, I had our two forces exit jump right behind this planet and this planet,” the Admiral tapped a device on his wrist as he spoke, causing two sections on the data display to became highlighted in red. “This should hide the total number of jump sequences picked up by the Natron picket lines. At most, they should only register thirteen to twenty-one incoming jumps, which should keep them in a more relaxed stance.”

  This time, Emperor Indus smiled when he replied, “I like it. Now, let’s see how it plays out.”

  Despite the experience of the Natron Military, the two simultaneous attacks completely overran their internal communication systems. All of the frantic calls coming in caused confusion as to whether or not both sites were getting hit. Indus’s forces attacked when the Natron Combat Teams were not synced to a central Headquarters. Instead of establishing a secondary Headquarters while their primary one was in a jump sequence, the Natron Combat Teams were left to fend for themselves during the initial stages of the attack.

  On the Baikal’s primary attack site, the Natron edge combat team reacted incredibly poorly. They obviously only expected several Ships to exit jump based off what their sensors were picking up, but not over one hundred. Seeing it as only a probing attack, the Natron Combat Team Commander did not even bother to change his Combat Team’s stance or send out any additional protective fighters. Unfortunately, he realized his unpardonable mistake far too late.

  Large Baikal Fleet Vessels immediately started laying down covering fire, freezing the Natron forces, while their light class Cruisers and Frigates sprinted in close. Missiles flew out of the Baikal Capital Ships in order to preoccupy their enemy’s turrets and defensive systems. With the incoming missiles came a flurry of proximity explosive energy rounds. Kinetic and rapid fire missile turrets popped out of armored surfaces and began to lay waste to the battle space.

  Specters, the Baikal Military’s only fighter class ship, instantly flooded out of their home Fleet Vessels’s bays after they exited jump; swarming in large numbers before racing toward their objective. Because the Baikal aviators had the advantage of already being in their fighters and ready to go, they easily beat the Natron fighters to the coveted middle ground between the two forces. In a matter of minutes, the Specters had claimed supreme control, easily destroying the outnumbered Natron fighters.

  Once the Baikal Sprint Cruisers and Frigates got close enough, they began to fire their primary cannons while weaving in and out of enemy Fleet Vessel firing lanes. A Natron Frigate exploded, its shields and armor too weak to lessen the impact of the heavy slug. Two Natron Capital ships received direct hits to their front. While their armor, defensive turrets, and shields greatly reduced the damage, the Capital Ships’s fronts were ripped apart. With the first volley fired, Specters flew in closer and began pounding the Natron Combat Team with their armor piercing missiles, severely damaging one more Capital Ship and three Cruisers.

  Now that the Specters were able to maneuver in close and unleash tremendous amounts of ammunition and missiles, the Larger Baikal Fleet Vessels were freed to push in closer. Without the Natron fighters to buffer the middle ground, the lane was completely clear for the larger Capital Ships to aim and fire unabated. Within minutes, the attacking forces had positioned themselves on all angles, making it impossible for the Natron Ships to defend themselves from the devastating attack about to come.

  The Natron Combat Team’s Commander failed again miserably by not repositioning his Ships out of firing range quickly enough. Instead of easily pulling away from the incoming attack, creating a chase scenario in which they would have bought enough time to wait for reinforcements, he froze once he saw the swarming attack on his data display. Had he acted correctly, he still would have sustained losses, but the bulk of his Combat Team would have survived.

  Due to the leader’s poor inability to make a decision, the Baikal Fleet Vessels, with three Super Capitals amongst their midsts, were provided the opportunity to fire their primary cannons unhindered. The act utterly overwhelmed the Natron tracking systems. Explosions brightened the monitors in the Baikal Bridges as they displayed the carnage outside. In fact, the chaos of the moment was so intense that the Baikal Commanders on site were at first unable to assess the damage against the Natron forces.

  When the surviving Natron Ships’s momentum carried them out of the debris field, the scene was awe inspiring. Sections of Fleet Vessels floated apart from each other while bodies and debris seemed to fill every crevice of space thought feasible. Only two Fleet Vessels survived out of twenty-four, the damage sustained making it impossible for them to defend themselves. The order was given to clean up the remaining Flight Vessel and Cruiser. Quickly, another dose of hardened Tungsten was unleashed.

  Just as the death sentence was being carried out, the Cruiser was able to jump to safety as their jump drives were quicker to reach negative mass. The Flight Vessel, on the other hand, exploded into an unrecognizable ball of dust and metal. Again, trails of destruction followed the projectiles’s glide paths. Twisted and half vaporized Natron fighters filled the battle space, adding their chunks to the already obliterated kill zone. In the aftermath, the Natron Combat Team was wiped off the universal plane; only one Cruiser surviving to tell the tale.

  The other Natron Combat Team, behind the primary attack site, shared a different fate. The Commander again grossly misjudged the size and number of the attacking Ships. Fortunately for Admiral Meinsted’s crew however, he gave the order to deploy a few squadrons to cover the space around them. But while the remaining Natron fighters were placed on standby, the aviators were slowly getting prepared; thinking only a Baikal probing attack was ahead of them. Meinsted also expected to conduct a counter attack on the smaller force exiting its jump sequence, so the larger Natron Vessels were also placed in an offensive stance.

  As soon as the Baikal Ships exited their jump, their Commanding Officer assumed he would have an easy victory because of his superior numbers. Quickly coming up with an alternative plan based off the Natron’s offensive formation, he sent one of his Combat Teams to the front of the enemy formation to keep them preoccupied while sending another one to maneuver under the enemy’s Ships and strike from below. The third Baikal Combat Team moved to position itself behind the Natron forces to prevent it from running.

  Baikal Specters began swarming out of the three attacking Combat Teams, outnumbering the Natron squadrons eleven to one. They hastily killed off every enemy fighter before more reinforcements could make it out. The Natron aviators put up a strong fight however, refusing to go down easily. Dozens of Specters were lost in the initial mad rush attack, which meant nothing to Emperor Indus who blissfully watched the two battles unfold before him.

  Unlike the other Natron Combat Team’s Commander, Meinsted quickly realized his situation and did his best to avoid getting surrounded. Knowing the direction from which support would come, his plan was to feign a counter attack and then retreat by pressing to the right of its current position. Unfortunately, when he did,
it brought his forces face to face with the third Baikal Combat Team. In desperation, the Natron Fleet Vessels blindly unleashed a flurry of ammunitions and missiles at the enemy while trying to find a solution to their dilemma.

  Instead of destroying the Natron Ships from a distance or letting his Specters systematically pick them apart, The Baikal Commander grew impatient and decided to end it quickly. Choosing to collapse his large formation in on the Natron Combat Team, he would undoubtedly quickly defeat his enemy, but it placed his Ships in a precarious position. The Baikal formation tightened its grip and squeezed inward from three angles while a hail of fire started pouring into the Natron forces caught in the middle.

  Rather than blindly accept his fate, Meinsted decided to end it all with everything his Combat Team had. He quickly ascertained which of the of the three Baikal forces was weakest and gave the order to attack head on. The plan was to try and break through and escape for long enough for their jump drives to prime or for support to arrive.

  Emperor Indus’s jaw dropped when he watched the Natron Ships turn and start attacking one of his Combat Teams. His realization turned into anger when he understood what was going on. His Commander’s impatience could lead to many of the Natron Ships escaping while also dealing heavy damage back to his own.