Chapter Ten
Casting the Die
Memnon stared at the astrogator screen. The five blips were clear and strong.
“They are wise to our presence,” he said to Telephus.
“Then why send only five ships?” Telephus asked.
“Because they only wish to confirm what they already suspect. They have no time to turn and face us, so instead they send five minnows. I wager that these minnows will stare us in the face and then flee.”
“What should we do?”
“Take advantage. Call the Prometheus, Olympus and Hydra. Have them intercept and devour the minnows.”
Telephus nodded and hurried away.
Aeolus smiled broadly when he saw the image of Telephus appear in the portal.
“Why this visit, Brother? Have you brought me good news?”
Telephus also smiled. “I bring you good hunting.”
Aeolus laughed. “Ha! You speak of the five ships on my screen! Are they mine for the taking?”
“Yes, Brother. But take the Olympus and Hydra with you. Make sure that none of the ships escape to warn the enemy of our presence.”
Aeolus’s expression hardened. “It shall be done. We will burn them and sink them. Our enemy will have only silence to warn them.”
Telephus looked wistful. “I wish I could be with you.”
“Then step off the portal. Memnon will hardly miss you.”
Telephus shook his head. “My place is here.” He smiled again, but this time it was with more sadness. “Take care, Brother.”
“You, also.”
The image faded.
Aeolus went back to the bridge of the Prometheus. He was older than his brother Telephus, but he had the same build, blonde hair and blue eyes. The only true difference between them was in character. Aeolus was more loud and brash than his younger brother, but he was far less lascivious. He had been married to Penelope for five years and had looked at no other woman since his wedding day. Even now he thought of his wife and children as he took his place in the command chair and barked out his orders.
“Peleus! Contact the Hydra and the Olympus! Have them follow us in delta formation! Glaucus! Increase speed by eight points and steer for the five ships that approach us! Tyro! Signal battle stations! We go to war!”
Men rushed about on the bridge as Aeolus sat back in his chair. He stared out at the star scene visible through the viewing ports ahead of him. Soon he would see the enemy. Soon he would test their mettle against that of his ship and crew. Soon he would wake the gods and ask them to cast the die that would pass judgement on his fate.
The Prometheus surged forward from the line of ships. Like the Kraken, she was large and battle scarred, with a huge fin beneath her hull. Behind her came the Olympus and the Hydra. All three ships were the same: only the mouth, teeth and eyes painted on their metal hulls were different. For the Prometheus, the expression was angry. The Hydra had more teeth, and the Olympus held her mouth open, waiting...
Memnon watched the three ships slide silently forward, the glow from their engines turning from red to orange as the thrust increased. And as he watched, he murmured softly.
“Kill them, Aeolus. Smash them and bleed them. Make them feel our wrath.”
Telephus stood at his side. “Did you speak, Captain?”
Memnon looked up. “Make to all ships. Increase speed. Our enemy expects to see her returning minnows. These minnows will be larger than they think.”
The Twenty-Third of the Orly’Ank stared at the astrogator screen. “Three ships,” he hissed. “The First of the Mysan’Taf was correct, we are pursued.” He turned to the helmsman behind him. “Reverse our course! Quickly! Warn the fleet!”
The five Keruh ships turned in space, their course taking them in tight arcs that brought them around and then back on to their original path. Now behind them, the three much larger ships of the Atlantian fleet bore down on them.
The chase was on.
Aeolus could now see the Keruh ships with his own eyes. The close proximity of his enemy caused his emotions to rise as he barked out more orders.
“Increase speed a further five points! Jam all portal transmissions! Close all bulkheads!”
The chase lasted a mere few minutes before the Twenty-Third of the Orly’Ank accepted the inevitability of the battle.
“They are fast,” he hissed to one of the Host members in the command centre. “They will overhaul us. And contact with the main fleet is broken.”
“What do you command?”
“Contact the ship of the Telen’Gal. Tell them to proceed with all speed to the fleet. They must warn the Host. The remaining ships will turn with us to face the enemy. We will delay them as long as we can.”
The Host member bowed his head and swept his smaller hand diagonally before him. “It is a noble deed.”
The Twenty-Third repeated the hand gesture. “And a glorious fate. Arm all weapons!”
The Keruh ships turned once more, but this time, one of them kept to its course, speeding on while the others fell behind.
Aeolus saw them turn. He saw also the ship that continued on. You will not escape me, he thought to himself, and then he smiled grimly as the first white lines of maser beams reached out toward him.
“Peleus! Return fire! Glaucus! Give me ramming speed!”
War in space was a simple matter. Break your opponent’s shell and let the vacuum of space do the rest. And do it any way you can.
The four triangular finned vessels of the Keruh sped toward the three much larger disc shaped vessels of the Atlantians in a head on collision. White maser beams criss-crossed the blackness of space between them. Where they struck the metal hull of a ship, a brief white flower blossomed and died, leaving behind a blackened hole.
The Prometheus rocked as the maser blasts peppered her hull. Aeolus now bellowed his orders above the clang of each impact as his command chair vibrated beneath him.
“Peleus! Tell the Hydra and Olympus to concentrate fire on that lead ship! Tyro! Close the viewing ports!”
Steel shutters descended over the viewing ports. A moment later and a screen slid up from the floor. A picture flashed into life, and the maser beams and hurtling ships reappeared.
Aeolus kept his eyes on the screen but turned his head to the left. “Glaucus! Steer for the ship to the right! Peleus! Tell the Hydra to take the one on the far right, and the Olympus to take the one to the left!”
The seven vessels converged amid a frenzy of maser blasts. While the Keruh fired equally at all three ships that faced them, the Atlantians focussed their fire on the lead ship of the Keruh. The effect was almost instantaneous. For a moment the vessel glowed brightly as its hull blossomed with a dozen hits, then it blew, its triangular fins flying apart in a gaseous cloud. For a few seconds after, a comet flew among the other vessels, the metal fragments glowing briefly before dying in the vacuum of space. But the comet lasted only as long as the atmosphere that spilled from the broken hull. Once it was exhausted, the comet faded, and all that remained of the vessel was a dark and spinning hulk.
The Twenty-Third of the Orly’Ank died knowing only that his death was glorious and that his honour was intact. For those others of the Keruh Host that followed him there was still the chance of a small victory.
It was now three against three, but the time for shooting was over. With the vessels now about to collide, it was brute strength and fate that would decide the winner.
Aeolus watched the triangular fins of the second Keruh ship rush toward him. At the last instant she rose up in an arc and began to turn, the ribbed fins spiralling. Aeolus roared his commands.
“Rotate! Rotate!”
The Prometheus turned her disc hull, the serrated fin beneath rotating upward as the spiralling fins of the Keruh vessel rushed toward her. There was a jarring collision as the serrated fin on the Prometheus tore into one of the ribbed fins of the Keruh vessel, tearing part of it away. The Prome
theus flew on, her mass and larger inertia far too great to be disturbed. The smaller Keruh vessel was knocked aside and began to tumble end over end.
Aeolus struck the arm of his command chair as the distance between his ship and that of his enemy increased.
“Damn the gods! Missed her!” He turned to his helmsman. “Bring us about, Glaucus!”
The Keruh vessel that faced the Olympus was less fortunate. Her helmsman kept to the same course and failed to avoid the huge serrated fin that rushed toward them. A deep gash was torn along the whole length of the triangular ship. It still flew on after the collision, but its course was now its own. It flew downwards in a shallow arc, fiery fragments spilling from the ruptured hull along with a white cloud of condensed air and water. It left a grey trail that soon faded and became dark and silent.
The Hydra’s victim made the same manoeuvre as the vessel that faced the Prometheus, but in this case both vessels missed each other cleanly. As soon as the distance between them opened up, the maser cannons began firing once more.
Aeolus barked his commands to his crew. “Peleus! Tell the Olympus to give chase to the fleeing ship! We will finish the job here!”
The Olympus increased speed, rushing on in pursuit of the rapidly disappearing Keruh ship. The Hydra and the Prometheus turned to do battle once more, but only one of the remaining Keruh ships now faced them. This ship flew straight for the Hydra. Again there was the same upward manoeuvre, again the Hydra rotated. This time the heavily armoured fins met in a metal crunching impact that tore the triangular fin from the smaller Keruh vessel. It flew on, spinning and tumbling, out of control and heading straight for the Prometheus.
Aeolus saw it at the last moment.
“Hard to port!” he yelled. “Rotate!”
The Prometheus turned and rotated, her disc hull tilting as the tumbling Keruh vessel rushed toward her. They almost missed, but then one of the spinning fins of the Keruh vessel dug into the underside of the Prometheus’s hull. The impact jerked the Keruh vessel around, throwing it straight into the path of the serrated fin. It was smashed in half and exploded brightly, the gaseous cloud of escaping atmosphere enveloping the Prometheus.
Memnon looked at the scarred and blackened hull of the Prometheus. He turned to Telephus.
“Contact your brother. Tell him his ship has a blacked eye. Ask him if he can maintain speed.”
“Yes, Captain.” Telephus hurried away, anxious to speak with his brother and grateful that Memnon was wise enough to know it.
When the portal to the Prometheus was opened, Telephus found his brother in an angry mood. Memnon’s jibe didn’t improve Aeolus’s temper.
“Aye! Black and dented! What irks me the most is that I speared her more by fortune than intent. She blew underneath us. Now our starboard engine ails and our speed is reduced as Memnon surmises. But have no fear, Brother. We live to fight another day. We make repairs and we can maintain station at this speed. What became of the ship I struck first? We saw it no more.”
Telephus smiled weakly, content to see his brother alive and well in whatever mood.
“It flew among us, its helm unmanned. It made good but brief target practise for our gunners.”
Aeolus laughed without humour. “Ha! We do all the work and you shoot it to bits! Even the Olympus comes back in glory! Two clean kills! Zeus will be unbearable!”
The reference to the youngest captain in the Atlantian Fleet brought a genuine smile to Telephus’s lips.
“Yes, he will be unbearable. But he did make two clean kills.”
“Agghh! Even my own brother baits me! Enough of this conversation! I have repairs to make!”
Aeolus reached forward and the connection was broken. Telephus watched the image of his brother fade before returning to the bridge of the Kraken. As soon as he entered the bridge, Memnon looked up and threw his questions at him.
“What news from your brother, Telephus? Can they keep station?”
“One engine is damaged, but Aeolus is confident that they can keep station at our current speed. He is more irked by Zeus than he is by the damage to the Prometheus.”
Memnon dismissed his comments. “Zeus is young and arrogant, but he is an able captain, no more. I hold Aeolus in higher esteem, as I do many other captains in the fleet.” He paused to rub his chin thoughtfully. “Aeolus may be confident of keeping this speed, but I am not. The moment of our destiny approaches, and I would not be late for the appointment. The first intersection is always vital, and I would wish confusion on our enemy at that moment. The Keruh wait for their five minnows. I would give them five sharks. I would have sent the Prometheus as one of them, but her lack of speed rules her out.”
“Then send the Olympus in her place.”
Memnon looked up in surprise. “And irk your brother more?”
“It will help speed his repairs.”
Memnon laughed. “Ha! You are right! Make it so! Give the command to the Olympus, Hydra, Pegasus, Medusa and Titan! They are to keep station twenty leagues ahead of us! Let the Keruh see their five ships returning unscathed. Let them believe they are alone. When they look again it will be too late!”
Over a million miles away, on the bridge the Light of the World, Bremusa stared at the rotating globe of the Galactic map.
“Expand,” she commanded.
Instantly the image in the three-dimensional map surged forward until the Edenite star system was displayed. The position, size and proximity of the opposing fleets became starkly clear.
At the helm, Derinoe gasped at the size of the Keruh fleet.
“Their numbers are vast. We cannot hope to win. They will destroy us.”
Bremusa was unmoved. “And the wounds we inflict will allow the Atlantians to destroy them.” She turned away from the image. “Ainia, advise the fleet: Increase speed and prepare for battle. Tell them also that all Matriarchs are released from Royal Service and that their destinies are their own to choose.”
Ainia seemed surprised. “Is that wise?”
“Wise and fair. Like all of us here, they have all suffered the loss of loved ones, they have seen our beautiful Klysanthia burned and consumed, and have fought on when many would have fallen by the wayside. I trust my sisters not to desert our cause at this last moment, but they deserve the right to choose their own fate. Send the signal.”
Bremusa turned away from Ainia, the discussion over. “Iphito, close all bulkheads and viewing ports. Arm weapons. Derinoe—”
Derinoe turned to face Bremusa, expecting the usual commands. Instead Bremusa had paused. Her long fingers flexed and curled as she considered her next words. Finally she laid her hands calmly in her lap and continued.
“Fear not our loss, Derinoe. For we have nothing more of worth to lose.”
The Dominant of the Mysan’Taf stood in the command centre of the Keruh Flagship, his three bodyguards standing in a triangle around him. The First stood the permitted distance away at his side. The Dominant looked down at the mass of blips on the astrogator screen.
“Are all our ships in position?”
“They are,” the First replied.
“And the Klysanthian Fleets?”
“They stand between us and Eden. Our intelligence was correct. Their ships are fewer in number than ours. They have combined their fleets into a standard Klysanthian attack formation and are approaching at point seven of nominal ramming speed. Their strategy in attack is unchanged.”
“Then the battle is ours to win. So why do I sense dismay in your words?”
“Our five ships return.”
“Is your dismay due to your error? Are your fears of a hidden pursuit over?”
The First of the Mysan’Taf indicated the five blips on the screen. “Look at the engine signatures.”
The Dominant lowered his bulk over the screen. There was a brief pause before he straightened up.
“The signatures are far too large.” The Dominant swept his hand di
agonally before his body. “Your fears are proven, and your wisdom as First enhanced.”
The First bowed gracefully at his victory. “What do you command?”
“Answer me this question first: What does your wisdom tell you of the identity of those who pursue us?”
The First hissed out one word. “Atlantians.”
“Then divide the fleet into unequal portions. The First of the Telen’Gal will lead the ships of his own Host to engage the Klysanthians, while we will turn with the ships of the Mysan’Taf, Orly’Ank and Belol’Fan to engage our Atlantian pursuers.”
The First swept his smaller hand diagonally before him. “It shall be made so.”
The massed fleet of the Keruh Host split into two smaller fleets. By far the larger portion banked away, each vessel making a graceful turn that took them diagonally upward and to the right. As they made the turn, each vessel also moved to take up a new position in the reduced fleet. And when the turn was finally completed, the fleet was now in a new formation. Four vertical banks of vessels, each bank over twenty vessels high and two deep. They increased speed, travelling back over their original path.
The smaller portion of the divided fleet kept to the same course, continuing on toward Eden. But even they did not remain static. One by one, the long columns of three upon three broke up as each vessel moved into attack position. When the manoeuvre was finally completed, the smaller fleet sped toward the rapidly approaching Klysanthians in another wing formation. They were now in a mirror image, two banks of vessels, one upon the other.
Now the battle for Eden would be more equal, now the numbers were fairer and the outcome unsure. But for the second battle, for the battle that would decide the course of the war, the outcome was now fixed.
Zeus gazed at his viewing screen as he sat on the bridge of the Olympus. His blue eyes flashed as he saw the mass of vessels approaching in four vertical banks. It was an attack formation the Keruh had used against them before. He smiled and rubbed at his curly blonde hair. Then turning in his command chair he began to shout orders at the officers around him.
“Salmoneus! Contact Memnon: Tell him our fish have sensed they are in the net! Then advise the Titan, Hydra, Pegasus and Medusa to follow our lead! Nestor! Increase speed! Jason! Close all bulkhead doors! Arm weapons!”
As his men rushed around the bridge at his commands, Zeus twisted around in his command chair once more. Now he faced forward again he raised his head and laughed out loud.
“Ha! Now I will have some glory! Now I will have a victory that befits a true hero! Let battle commence! And the gods be damned!”
The Friendly Ambassador: The Beginning of the End Page 11
