Bhaalgorn after Bhaalgorn exploded in fiery death, tiny suns as their reactors went critical, or their capacitors overloaded. Lasers streamed across the blackness of space, brilliant violet beams. The battle was taking it’s toll, but the Imperial Navy task group simply had more ships-the way the Amarrians always won. The last of our Bhaalgorns took a broadside from the remaining sole remaining Imperial battleship, an Apocalypse, amidships and simply broke in two; fire and bodies and derbies spewed out of the split in the hull.
My executive officer turned to me and simply said, “Command devolves to you, captain.”
“Acknowledged. Message to all ships: Commander Dieudonne has command.” I quickly ran my eyes over the tactical holo. We were dead as long as that Apocalypse was still on the field. And even after that, the odds were bad. “Message to all ships: Target! Sierra 64. Enemy battleship. Focus fire on the port side, overload your guns until target is destroyed. Fire at will.” I turned to my XO. “Kick the microwarp on, get to seven klicks and switch crystals to conflag. Heat the guns until they melt or that ship-” I thrust my finger to the Apocalypse on the tactical holo “-does.” It was a gamble, a huge one. There were all sorts of nasty things that a battleship could do to a cruiser that close. God is in the roll of the dice, I thought and then silently prayed it came up six. The Ashimmu rumbled as the microwarp drive engaged and we sped towards destiny.
*****
BRS Pride of Alen limped into port on her own power. The tugs gave her that, despite having to be towed through three systems, due to the fact that her warp drive no longer worked. Under other circumstances it would be a pitiful sight, huge gouges, holes even, in her armour and hull. Chunks larger than shuttles had been blown away and wisps of atmosphere trailed out. Several of the laser mounts were simply not there, blown away by Amarrian weapons. Beneath the hull, repair and rescue efforts were continuing even now. But she was returning a victorious champion. Of the twenty three Amarrian battleships, not a single one survived. Of the seventeen cruisers and battlecruisers, not a single one survived. Of the eleven frigates, not a single one survived. The losses to Covenant were no less staggering, but we had managed to kill off the last battleship and out maneuver and destroy six battle cruisers and 6 frigates. My crew was already calling it a miracle.
The docking clamps locked into place and the ship shuddered. My XO turned to me and said, “Ship secured, ma’am.”
I nodded and pulled the helmet off of my suit. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Smoke and charred flesh, burnt electronics. The bridge had taken a hit, a hard hit. One of the Harbinger’s lasers burned through seven decks, and had finally run out of energy at the deck above. Chunks and fragments of bulkhead and deck plating had ripped though the bridge like flechettes. The armoured combat suits we wore stopped most of it, but my com officer and eight other ratings were killed. They still laid where they had fallen. The scene on the bridge was mirrored in other compartments across the ship.
“Tell DC teams to be ready for relights when the O2 starts to flow again. All station DC teams have permission to board. You have the bridge.” I tucked my helmet under my arm and headed to the lift. “I’m going to take charge of the DC teams.” Now that we were safely in dock, the reasons keeping me on the bridge were gone. The lift doors opened and I stepped in.
I had just enough time to hear the XO say, “Aye, ma’am, I have the bridge,” before the doors closed. I ran my gloved fingers through my short cropped blond hair and took in a deep breath.
*****
Deck 5, bulkhead 30 was a wreck of twisted metal. The compartment beyond had been sealed off due to a massive hull breach and a fuel cell fire near the end of the battle. Lined up outside the hatch was a DC team in firefighting gear, ready to go, simply standing there. I strode up to the ensign in command of the team and he stiffened seeing me, the gold trim on my combat suit identifying me as an extremely important person. He downright turned to stone when he saw my rank.
“Captain!” He nearly shouted at me in the crispest parade ground voice that I had heard in quite a while. But I was having none of it.
“Why is your team just waiting out here? There’s crew trapped in there.” I snarled at him.
He stammered back, “it’s still hot; there could be flare ups if we open the hatch, ma’am.”
My first strike impacted his nose, causing it to splinter and break and shards of bone to go into his brain. There was no second strike; with my enhanced body, one was enough. The Blood Raiders were not very tolerant of failures, which worked out well. Neither was I.
I turned to the DC team, “Come on men, do you want to live forever?” I slammed my helmet into place and, with the amplification servos built into the suit, ripped the hatch off it’s fittings and charged into the inferno.
*****
I strutted in the bar like I owned the place, in my dress uniform, a finely tailored, sharp looking outfit of red and black with gold trim. I knew that I was not going to be buying my own drinks tonight. My bridge officers were already there, at a booth, talking amongst themselves, similarly dressed as myself. My XO stood and raised his glass.
“Skipper!” he yelled. I smiled in response and took my seat. The bartender had a glass of beer already waiting for me and I raised it.
“To victory,” I said. We all took a drink. My XO, Lt. Commander Verrue offered the next traditional toast.
“To those with God,” he said, more somberly.
“Allet,” I responded with my bridge crew.
My OPS officer, Lieutenant Caprasio, asked, “What’s the final number, skipper?”
I sighed lightly, “twenty seven confirmed dead, thirteen more missing and presumed dead. Ninety wounded. One executed.”
“Who’d you shoot, skipper?”
“That new ensign, Trappe. Too afraid to breach a compartment for DC. Worthless piece of amphibian shit.” My bridge crew nodded their agreement. I continued, “Harvester teams rescued a good part of the crews from the rest of the fleet, which is good news. The also rescued-” this was greeted with a light chuckle “-a decently large percentage of the Amarrian crews. And since we have no other ships to share the prize money with.” I trailed off, smiling. It was promising to be a good week for all of us. “The bad news,” I darkened, “is that there were no clones aboard the enemy ships. So no pure blood”
The man in the booth behind me snorted, loudly. I whip turned my head to see an older man in the robes of a clergyman, but not a Blood Raider, that much was clear. I snapped, “You say something, old man?”
He turned and scoffed again. “Pure blood, from clones?” He sounded dismissive. “Next thing you know you’ll be offering up synthetic blood packs.” He chuckled derisively.
“And just who the frell are you?” The anger within me grew, raging. “Do you know who the frell I am? Blood Raider.” As far as things went in Delve the Blood Raiders were at the top of who’s who.
“Easy skipper, he’s Order of the Chalice,” said Verrue.
I turned back around, “And that means frell all to me.”
My XO continued in a much steadier pace, “Sabik clerics. Well respected, devout. They used to be a part of the Covenant.”
I fought to control my rage, to keep myself from turning around and breaking the priest’s neck, and took deep breaths. My rise to my current rank had been meteoric, a full commander in less than a year. The Sani Sabik were very rewarding of success. And after the battle today, captain’s stars were most likely in the near future. But a side effect of that rise was that I did not know as much as some of my crew about the inner political workings of the Sani Sabik. Executing an ensign for cowardice, would not be a blink of an eye for my superiors. If I killed this priest, the response from my superiors might be anything from me being chewed out to serious repercussions.
“Alright, priest, leave us the frell alone and keep your opinions to your self.” My mood soured, I turned back to my officers and finished the evening drinking with them. But I could not help but think about the priest’s words as I lay awake in bed that night.
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