Echoes of Harmony

The Bastion

Mornage, Stariek

Lieutenant Colonel Jackson Rhyse paced the floor of the Bastion’s underground analysis room. While his shift was normally the night one, he was asked by Fleet Marshal Tyn to be there during the attack. It seemed fitting given he was on duty when the Hyperions were first detected. One way or another, he would be there when it was over.

All eyes in the Bastion were on the holoprojector in the center of the room. The tactical board displayed the dots representing the fast approaching battle that would determine the freedom of Stariek. While Rhyse attempted to have at least some of the analysts go about their normal duties, it was futile. Everyone wanted to see firsthand what happened.

He couldn’t blame them. Their lives hung in the balance of what happened just a few thousand kilometers away from them. If watching dots on a screen made them feel better about the outcome, more power to them.

It was with bated breath they watched as the HMV Conta, designated Master Three, began its approach towards the right flank of the Stariek fleet. Some of the analysts muttered aloud, wondering what they were planning, as the other three Hyperion vessels maintained their courses. The two Stariek vessels closest, the SSV Gladius and Wolf, tightened the formation with the Cossack, designated Sierra Seventeen. An indication next to the defensive satellites indicated a power buildup, as would be expected when their magnetic cannons and neutron beams were primed for firing.

Typically, the defense satellites were controlled through the Bastion, in the very room Rhyse stood. However, Fleet Marshal Tyn had given control of the armaments to Admiral Hayes, arguing he would be able to put them to better use. Rhyse acquiesced, finding no reason to deny it. It did feel strange, he admitted, to be relegated to a backseat view rather than being in on the action.

“Sir, I’m detecting an anomaly on satellite ninety-seven,” Specialist Taylor called out. She was one of the few who stuck with her duties.

“What sort of anomaly?” Rhyse walked over to join her at her station, looking at the console screen.

“Hard to tell right now.” She shook her head. “It appears to be weather data, but… Holy hell.”

“What is it?” Rhyse’s heart leapt into his throat. Some of the nearby analysts turned their heads to them with curiosity and concern. “What happened?”

Taylor’s hands flew over her console keyboard, typing in commands at such a rate Rhyse had no hope of keeping up. A bead of sweat made its way down her forehead, skirting around the outside of her eye. After several seconds of silence, she slammed her hand against the keyboard, leaning back and folding her arms.

“Specialist, what is the problem?” Rhyse asked, his voice rising in pitch.

“The bastards,” she whispered. She shook her head and frowned at the colonel. “Pardon my language, sir. The Hyperions sent a communication package to the satellite disguised as weather data. Inside the package, though, was malware which infected the satellite, replicating itself and sending it to nearby satellites. I tried to block it or restrict it to just a section, but I didn’t catch it fast enough. The entire defense system is offline. They had a governmental override code to bypass any restrictions.”

“We need those satellites back online five minutes ago.” Rhyse looked around the room at the dozens of faces staring back at him. He rose his voice and yelled, “If those satellites aren’t brought back up, our compatriots are sitting ducks up there. Get back to work and do your jobs, now!”

Immediately, the analysts sprung into action. They went back to their stations and worked feverishly to rectify the problem. Rhyse circled the room, giving encouragement and trying to offer help when he could. Before long, however, he found himself in the center of the room, as if gravitationally attracted to the tactical board. Dozens of smaller dots were around the larger ones, an indication of many small craft in space. They weaved through space, some chasing others while more were heading straight for the main ships.

However, what caught his attention the most was the missing blue dot. Sierra Eighteen, the Gladius, had been erased from the board. It left a gaping hole in the Stariek formation, one Sierra Sixteen and Seventeen tried to close without exposing themselves. Even as he watched, another blue dot vanished as the Cossack was destroyed.

Hold on there. Rhyse took a deep breath and tried to not think about the death toll which was only going to increase.

#

HMV Conta

Stariek Orbit

Colonel Emma Kiesling’s trademarked warrior’s grin was plastered on her face as she sat in the CO’s chair on the bridge of the Conta. The general’s order to charge the line was surely supposed to be a suicide run. Nothing more than a distraction. However, she was one who found the opportunity in such matters. The destruction of Victor Twenty-two was proof of that. Its wreckage was still spreading outward. Some of the small pieces of metal vaporized against the shields of the Hyperion cruiser.

The Stariek vessels did their best to return fire. Magnetic cannon rounds, neutron beams, even missiles were thrown at the Conta. The ship took them all on the chin, barely even shuddering under the impacts. However, the shields were beginning to tip toward yellow. If they kept their assault up, they would surely fail. What happened then, Kiesling chose not to think about. As long as they were able to do their duty, they wouldn’t need to worry about what General Zorn told her on their approach to the planet.

“Tactical, target Victor Twenty-four with magnetic cannons and neutron beams. Let’s teach them another lesson.” Kiesling watched the miniature tactical board emanating from the arm of her chair. Though there was no response, she knew it would take her tactical officer, Lieutenant Sahl el-Matar, no more than a few seconds to ready the weapons. “Shoot, magnetic cannons and neutron beams.”

The rumble of the cannons launching their five hundred millimeter payload shook the ship. On the viewport’s screen, she watched the shields of the Stariek frigate pulse with each hit. As they began to diminish, the red neutron beams lanced out, boring into the ship for less than a second before the shields failed. The neutrons tore into the hull of the ship with what would have been a resounding crash if sound traveled through space. Kiesling found herself wishing she could hear what the bridge of the stricken vessel did.

Molten metal, glowing bright orange, floated away from the frigate. Fires blossomed from the holes, venting atmosphere and bodies into the vacuum. Finally, the beam appeared out the back, tearing apart the engines. Large chunks of metal separated and drifted away. Another second passed, and the ship exploded as the fusion reactor overloaded.

Much to Kiesling’s dismay, over a dozen escape pods launched. She frowned.

“Lieutenant?” Without another word, the rumble of the magnetic cannons returned. One by one, the pods were eliminated with surgical precision. “Very nice. What is the status of the defensive satellites? Why haven’t they fired?”

“No power,” el-Matar replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

She knew those were the only words she would get out of him, probably for the rest of the year. A mixture of curiosity, confusion, and even a tinge of fear tickled her mind, though the last was quickly pushed away. With two of their vessels destroyed already, the Stariekians would have activated their satellites if they could. General Zorn must have done something to them. This thought brought a wider smile to her face. She glanced down at the tactical board and picked her next target.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Tactical, make tubes one through seven ready in all respects, and open outer doors.” Kiesling waited a few seconds for the lieutenant to carry out the command. Then she continued, “Target Victor Twenty-three with all warheads and magnetic cannons. Take out the point defense turrets with the cannons. Match bearings, shoot, all tubes and magnetic cannons.”

The ship rumbled as each missile fired out of the forward launch arrays, each half a second after the last. On the tactical board, the seven new contacts came screeching out, on a direct course for the next closest frigate.

Let’s see how you like this. The thought allowed her to sit back in the chair, smiling.

#

SF-17 Starhawk

Stariek Orbit

The explosion of the Gladius nearly blinded Fischer before his viewport automatically dimmed to save his eyesight. Spots of the afterimage remained for several seconds as he tried to blink it away. The form of the frigate seconds before it was erased from the universe ingrained itself in his mind. Over two thousand soldiers were on board the vessel, and, if his tactical overlay was correct, no escape pods were launched. The ferocity of the Hyperion cruiser was too much and too fast for the ship to handle.

<Alpha Two to Alpha One, I could use some help here.>

Bahr’s voice coming through his CAM shook him from his trance. He glanced at her position to find two Hyperion fighters tailing her. The three engaged in a series of scissors maneuvers like a deadly dance. Lances of neutron beams stabbed into the void, narrowly missed Bahr’s fighter as she attempted to keep both off her.

Fischer accelerated his own fighter towards the fray, quickly slotting in behind one of the bandits. They appeared to be too focused on destroyed Bahr, seeming to not notice him closing the distance. Their fighters looked older than his own, being slightly boxier and less sleek. When he was within a hundred kilometers, his targeting reticle turned green. With a thought, he launched one of his Hunter infrared-tracking missiles.

<Alpha One, fox two,> he called out, watching as the missile rocketed forward. The bandit recognized the threat too late and attempted to pull up relative to his previous direction. Chafe launched from his fighter when the missile was almost on the rear of his fuselage. A brief explosion lit up the fighter’s right wing before the entire craft was consumed by flame. Within moments, the fire was gone as all oxygen was consumed or dispersed. <Alpha One, splash one.>

As he called out the kill, Bahr brought her craft up and around in an Immelmann. She flew relatively upside down for a moment before righting herself as she headed for the enemy fighter. The Hyperion attempted to counter but was too slow. The blue beams from her neutron cannon lanced out at it, cutting through the craft, the bolts making a horizontal line of holes from one wing to the other. It spiraled for a moment before the pilot ejected and the fighter exploded from a reactor overload.

<Nice shot, Alpha Two,> he said as she flew over to sail beside him off his left wing. They flew in formation together, heading towards the next batch of Hyperion fighters.

Red beams pierced the void, slamming into the Cossack. For less than a second, Fischer prayed the shields of the vessel would hold. The thought quickly vanished as the molten hull exploded outwards. Another couple second passed, and the neutrons speared out the backside. This time, escape pods did launch, pushing themselves away from the stricken vessel just seconds before it exploded. A sphere of metal and other material—Fischer tried to not think about the organic matter mixed in—blossomed outward.

Small pieces of metal pinged against Fischer’s Starhawk, most of them vaporized by the shields before making impact.

<Alpha Leader to Flying Boars,> Fischer called out through the appropriate channel on his CAM. <When are you guys making your strafing run? We need to take out that ship now.>

<Flying Boars to Alpha,> came the reply from Lieutenant Treyson Levy. <We’re some BUFFs out here, but we’re making our way fast as we can. If you could take out some of their point defense for us, that’d be ace.>

<Wilco,> Fischer replied, then switched to the Snow Wyverns channel. <Alright, everyone. Form up for a run on Master Three. Target the starboard point defenses and try to clear a path for our big ugly fat fellows.>

<You’re too polite, Alpha One,> Bahr replied, and he could feel the grin emanating from her.

Before they even fully regrouped, small explosions dotted the void. Fischer struggled to identify what they were, thinking they may be some sort of Hyperion minefield, before Burn’s voice cut through.

<My god, they’re firing on the escape pods.> The words sent a chill down Fischer’s spine. <What kind of monsters are these?>

<The ones who need to be taught a lesson,> Fischer replied. Bile rose in his throat but he pushed it down. Gritting his teeth, he increased his Starhawk’s throttle to the max. The force of inertia from the acceleration pushed him flat against the seat. <Let’s show them what we got.>

The tactical overlay showed the other dots representing the Snow Wyverns following after him. Three of them were already missing. Most of Gamma Squadron was destroyed in the beginning of the furball, leaving just Gamma Three left to form up with Alpha in an extended finger four to create a V formation.

As they flew towards Master Three, seven new contacts appeared, separating from one of the missile launch arrays. The hypersonic missiles maneuvered into position before their boosters activated, sending them at speeds that would kill any human inside towards the Wolf. Fischer did the math in his head. Seven Stariek missiles would be more than enough to destroy the frigate if they weren’t stopped. The advanced Hyperion models would surely result in the destruction of the vessel.

<Alpha Squad, new mission,> Fischer said. <Stop those missiles at all costs.>

He brought his Starhawk around in a tight turn that caused the corners of his vision to go black with the force of acceleration. The other four reversed courses as well, though slightly slower than himself. Even pushing their throttles to max, the missiles were outpacing them with ease. Fischer slotted in behind one and activated his neutron cannons.

<Alpha One, guns, guns, guns,> he called out as beams of light stabbed the void. After an agonizingly long two seconds, the beams connected with the missile and destroyed the engine. The warhead continued moving for a few moments before exploding harmlessly. <Splash one missile.>

<Alpha Two, splash one,> Bahr called out, followed by a similar call from Burns.

Fischer checked the tactical board. Four missiles were still heading for the Wolf, and an indicator showed they were aiming for a spot where the point defense cannons were ripped to shreds by the magnetic cannons.

<We have to stop those missiles, people,> Fischer said, activating his afterburners. The extra power to the engines pressed him once more against his seat. He flew nearly perpendicular to another missile, firing his neutron cannons as he soared past it. The beams scored a lucky hit. Once more, the rocket exploded harmlessly. Another was quickly destroyed by Bahr, leaving the total remaining at two.

Two they might be able to handle. Might. Fischer pushed his fighter towards another missile as it rapidly approached the large vessel. He could tell by the lack of a shimmer its shields were down where the missile was to impact. Even one could blow a hole in the side and start a chain reaction that ended in the destruction of the ship.

<I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it,> McCoy said.

<What is it?> Fischer asked.

<Better you don’t know. At all costs, aye?>

<McCoy, don’t even think about it,> Burns said, her voice shrill. For the first time, Fischer felt fear emanating from her.

<One life is better than fifteen hundred. Put the rest of these wankers down for me, would you?>

<McCoy, you will return to base at once,> Fischer said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

<I will, yeah? It was an honor serving with you, Lieutenant Fischer.>

Fischer watched on the tactical overlay as McCoy’s fighter flew beyond regulation speed towards one of the missiles. It was less than fifty kilometers from the Wolf, on a terminal approach. He came up and in front of it. The vital signs from McCoy’s CAM indicated he lost consciousness from the G-forces the acceleration exerted on him. The artificial intelligence in the missile attempted to dodge to the side but wasn’t quick enough. It impacted the underside of McCoy’s Starhawk near the starboard wing. After a brief fireball, there was nothing but debris left.

Fischer’s mind went blank. He heard voices cry out in what sounded like anguish, but his brain retained none of it. The fireball—the brief fireball that lasted half a second—replayed over and over in his mind as the missile and fighter collided. It was his job to make sure his squad got home safe, to their friends and families. He failed.

<Gamma Three, splash one missile,> Lieutenant Kayla Stewart said from what seemed like the end of a tunnel. Her voice was quiet, and the uncertainty mingled with grief inside her emanated across the link. <I think that’s all of them, sir.>

<Yeah.> Fischer’s throat was suddenly dry. A million thoughts continued to run through his head, wondering what he could have done differently as a leader to ensure the survival of his squad. This was not how it was supposed to happen. No one in Alpha squad had died under his watch before. <Let’s get back to escorting the Flying Boars in.>

He lazily brought his Starhawk around, the other three slotting in behind him. Stewart fell into the third position, where McCoy’s fighter would have been. While he could not know what was going through their minds, the raw emotion coming through the squad’s link mimicked that felt in his own body. Perhaps actions such as McCoy’s sacrifice were what it was going to take to win this battle. Fischer only hoped he and the others would make it out the other side.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!