Echoes of Harmony

Boulevard d'Émeraudes

Epinau, Stariek

22 November 3296

With a population of nearly fifty million people, Epinau was the most populous metropolitan area south of Stariek’s equator. Situated on the eastern coastline of the southern continent, it held uninterrupted views of the obsidian-black sands as white-tipped waves lapped against the shores. Apartment buildings and offices soared hundreds of meters into the air. Pathways extended between these buildings, each one covered in a variety of plant life both native to Stariek as well as to other colonized planets around the galaxy. The widest of these, the Boulevard d'Émeraudes, or Emerald Boulevard, surrounded Les Appartements du Triomphe, the tallest building near the center of the city.

The Boulevard d'Émeraudes itself was a hub of activity. Vendors hawked various wares at passersby as they walked, rode hovering bicycles, or were carried by rickshaws. One such passerby was Jean-Marc Delacroix, an older man still with a full head of hair. It had long ago turned from black to a silver, leaving no sign of its previous color. Criss-crossing wrinkles covered his face.

Next to him and holding onto his elbow was his wife of forty-seven years. Henriette’s hair also lost its brown coloration in years past, though she made sure to hide this fact by routinely dying it. They wore matching blue jumpsuits made to look like double-breasted jackets.

The boulevard was much quieter than it normally was. This was expected given the battle waging above their heads, just a few thousand kilometers away. That still meant, though, there were hundreds of people walking by at any given moment.

Most were gaping up at the sky, watching as the blue and red of neutron beams lashed out. They couldn’t see the battleships, as Henriette called them, due to the atmosphere. Eventually, though, the noticeable explosions of ships themselves blossomed like flowers from beyond the atmosphere. Whether those were Stariek or Hyperion vessels, they had no way of knowing.

Hundreds of meters below at the ground level of the building were the protesters. Jean-Marc shuddered at the thought of them. The noise of their chants, combined with the wailing of police sirens, drifted upwards. They were fools who didn’t know how good they had it. Siding with the Hyperion Empire was signing away their freedom. But those thoughts were for another time.

Jean-Marc walked not hurriedly but at least with a certain purpose in his step, nearly dragging Henriette along with him. Up ahead another few hundred feet was a stall and vendor he was very familiar with. He was a younger man with dark brown hair tied in a thick ponytail at the back of his head. A thin mustache sat just atop his upper lip, with no signs of an accompanying beard. Behind him, his booth was covered in a variety of carefully sculpted flowers, their petals pristine. A rainbow of vibrant colors welcomed any would-be shoppers.

“Good afternoon, Philippe,” Jean-Marc called out in French, raising his arm not held by Henriette in greeting.

“Not so good today, Jean-Marc.” Philippe shook his head, casting his glance upwards. “I hear the battle isn’t going so well up there.”

“Our fleet will carry the day, don’t you worry. But I’m not hear to talk about that.” Jean-Marc smiled and gestured to Henriette. “Henriette here is fresh out of your beautiful flowers. Do you have any of those Stariek tulips? They’re her favorite.”

“You’re too good to me.” Henriette smiled and patted Jean-Marc’s arm.

“Of course.” Philippe turned and plucked a bunch of blue, tulip-shaped flowers from the stand. White swirls went around the petals, spiraling into the center stems. He handed it to Henriette with a flourish. “That will be five credits, monsieur.”

Philippe held out a scanner the size of his palm. Flashing green lights went around the outside to indicate it was ready to accept payment. Before Jean-Marc had a chance to swipe his hand over the surface to initiate the transaction, an explosion overhead rent the air. Screams echoed around them. A wave of pressure swept over them, rattling the building and sending flowers scattering away.

Henriette clung tighter to Jean-Marc’s arm, releasing the hold on her flowers in the process. He looked up to see a cloud of fire and smoke a few miles above the city. Smoke trails stemmed from the center, arcing towards the ground, the objects at the ends growing larger. He watched as one changed direction mid-flight and headed directly for him. The crowd on the platform ran in all directions, heading for any exit or cover they could find.

The last thing he remembered was the sudden rush of air followed by a blinding light and blistering heat.

#

SSV Celestial Phoenix

Stariek Orbit

22 November 3296

The bridge of the Celestial Phoenix went quiet as they watched the missile. What they thought was a death blow by Alpha One to the propulsion of the rocket quickly turned into anything but. After several seconds of holding their breath, it happened. Successive flashes of light emanated from the surface of the planet, briefly glowing before disappearing. These were quickly replaced by clouds being pushed aside by explosive shockwaves. Finally, the tell-tale mushroom clouds of nuclear devices became evident. Tinges of blue lingered at the edges of the clouds.

Making matters worse, Master Three still had power to its engines, allowing it to continue its death charge for the planet. Pieces of the vessel lingered behind in a growing line as it plowed forward. It lashed out at every Stariek frigate and cruiser around it, inflicting damage to each ship it touched with devastating efficiency.

Admiral Hayes continued watching the tactical board, noting in his head the time by which there would be no stopping the Conta. He turned to the navigation console where Lieutenant Raylan Perkins sat.

“Navigation, what is our time to intercept Master Three if we moved now?” Hayes asked.

“Approximately two minutes and fifteen seconds at maximum thrust, Admiral.” As if sensing the unspoken question, he added, “That would leave just under a minute for us to stop that cruiser.”

“Plot course to intercept Master Three, lieutenant. Engage engines at flank speed when ready. Get us there as fast as possible.” Hayes folded his hands behind his back and turned to the tactical station. “Tactical, status of our neutron beams?”

“They’ve been working on them since we left dry dock, sir, so we’re up to eight emitters of twelve.” Gibson shook her head. “From what we’ve seen, that may not be enough to stop the cruiser, even with its shields failing.”

“What are the chances we’d be able to increase the power of those to one hundred and fifty percent of regulation?”

Gibson’s eyes went wide, though she quickly hid it behind a more passive expression.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“I cannot recommend that, sir.” Her voice still held the surprise from the question. “There’s no telling what effect it would have. It could melt the housing for the emitters or it could destroy the engine. Either way, they’d be down until we get extensive dry dock time to repair. All we’d have left are our fighters and bombers.”

“Is it possible?” Hayes asked.

“Well, the problem—”

“Is it possible, Captain Gibson?” Hayes repeated, raising his voice.

“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly. Her cheeks blazed red.

“Work with engineering and make it happen. By my calculations, that should be plenty to pierce the rest of their shields and hull around their engineering section.”

“Sir, I don’t think it’s the best idea,” Gibson said. “The damage to our own vessel may be worse than what we inflict on them.”

“We are running out of options, Captain!” His voice echoed in the otherwise silent room. He slammed a first on the holographic projector, causing the images to shudder. “We do nothing, and everyone in Mornage dies. If we do this, we at least have a chance of stopping them. Communications, get every ship we have available heading in that direction, now. I don’t care what else happens. We must stop that cruiser at all costs. We cannot let what happened to Epinau happen to Mornage.”

“Aye, sir,” replied Lieutenant Price.

The viewport shifted as the ship spun to face the direction of the Hyperion cruiser. Neutron beams lashed out in the void like a stellar fireworks show. Magnetic cannon rounds slammed into the hulls of Stariek ships and the Conta alike, sending pits of glowing-orange metal spewing out into space before it rapidly cooled.

The two minutes passed far slower than they had any right to, feeling like hours had passed as Hayes watched the tactical board. He drummed his hands against the base. Finally, the indicator for neutron beam range turned green.

“Tactical, firing point procedures, Master Three, all neutron beams at one fifty percent power.”

“Firing point set, sir,” Gibson replied through gritted teeth.

“Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

Hayes immediately knew something was wrong. While normally the neutron emitters made the subtlest whine as they accelerated particles to the speed of light, this time they sent a rumble through the ship that culminated in a series of explosive pops. Circuits blew out at several consoles. Technicians ducked away from their positions, seeking cover from wires sending sparks in all directions.

“Damage control to the bridge now!” Hayes yelled after slamming his hand on a microphone button in the arm of his chair. “Captain, what happened?”

“Exactly what I said would happen, sir.” She fixed him with an icy glare, one he knew he earned. “The emitter housings exploded and sent an electrical pulse back through the system. All eight are down, with the wiring to the other four damaged. We’re venting atmosphere in five locations, but bulkheads are sealing them off.”

“Any effect on target?”

“None, sir.”

“Options, captain.” He sat back in his chair, staring at the tactical board. His voice lost its previous gumption. I’ve doomed us. “What do we have?”

“Nothing, sir. We’ll have to rely on the others.”

Hayes brought a hand up to his chin in thought. A mass of blue dots for the Stariek vessels were massing to one location The red dot representing the Conta steadily approached the planet, though the Celestial Phoenix also continued on at flank speed. An idea, a horrible, yet brilliant if he pulled it off, idea formed in his head.

He stood and went to the microphone connected to every speaker in the ship, dubbed 1MC. While a physical microphone was ultimately unnecessary, the feel of it in one’s hand necessitated its inclusion in any modern ship. Every eye in the bridge was on him as he held the device to his lips.

“All nonessential hands below Deck Fifteen and forward of Frame Twenty, retreat to upper rear decks. Brace for imminent impact. I repeat, all nonessential hands below Deck Fifteen and forward of Frame Twenty, retreat to upper rear decks. This is not a drill.”

Commander Reese walked up and whispered to him, “What’s your plan?”

“The only one left, XO.” He cast a grave look at her. “We’re going to ram them.”

#

HMV Conta

Stariek Orbit

Colonel Emma Kiesling smiled as rumbles continued through the ship. Some, she knew, were the Conta taking more fire from the Stariek vessels. Others, of course, were the result of her crew taking as many of the enemy as they could with them. Several of the decks were completely closed off. Hull breaches resulted in explosive decompression in areas, taking much of the ship with it. Luckily, the damage appeared restricted to the outer forward areas. The engines still had one shield generator left to protect them, which is all they needed.

“Aspect change, Victor One,” el-Matar called out.

When no further clarification came, she glanced at the tactical overlay to find the red dot indicating the Stariek carrier, the Celestial Phoenix, was quickly approaching them. Briefly, she considered they might be ramming her ship. She dismissed the thought at once. Even they’re not that foolish.

“It’s no matter. Continue firing on all nearby vessels. Navigation, stay on course. Do not deviate even a millimeter unless you wish to be executed.”

“Aye, ma’am,” the navigation officer replied.

Kiesling brought up an exterior camera still online facing in the direction of the Celestial Phoenix. She couldn’t lie: the ship was magnificent. Much nicer than her cruiser. Missing a few touches here and there, specifically the lack of any magnetic cannons or missile arrays. Its length and height were awe-inspiring, just as the Event Horizon was when she saw the dreadnought for the first time. The former she admired for its sleekness; the latter, for it’s sheer devastating power.

As she watched, several spots on the surface of the ship grew bright blue, far brighter than she would have expected. Overcharged neutron emitters? That’s a new one. Kiesling did the math in her head and figured they would target the engineering section to halt their acceleration. After all, it was what she would do. But before she could call any orders, the emitters exploded in their housings. Some tore just small pieces of hull with them while others ripped out entire sections of the decks they were attached to. An electrical pulse traveled the length of the ship, though it continued moving.

She laughed. The sound and feeling of elation came unexpectedly. These are the people I’m losing my life to? People who can’t even fire a neutron emitter properly? The irony of the situation was palpable, at least to her. Some of the technicians around the room glanced in her direction, though they did their best to hide it before she noticed.

“Tactical, see if you can’t destroy Victor One since they’ve made it so convenient for us.” She smirked, though no one could see it. “It wouldn’t hurt to bag a prize such as that.”

The magnetic cannons swiveled, launching their five hundred millimeter payloads at the Celestial Phoenix. A certain measure of surprise passed through her body. The carrier’s shields were stronger than those of the frigates, able to withstand the initial onslaught from the Hyperion cruiser with ease. Kiesling knew they would fail in the end. The question was not if but when and whether she would be around to see it.

Another red dot vanished off the tactical overlay as Victor Twenty-nine exploded. A neutron beam sliced it in half, cutting through a munitions storage and detonating the armaments within. No escape pods launched, sending a wave of joy through Kiesling. If only she had been paying closer attention. She would have been able to savor the moment that much more.

Returning her attention to the tactical overlay, she saw they were a minute away from terminal approach with Mornage. Part of her, a younger, past version of her, felt sadness for the city. Tens of millions of people would die in the blink of an eye. People who did nothing wrong. The current version of her, however, quickly pushed the thought aside. It was easily replaced with one that felt anger; anger that she would not be around to relish this victory, anger at the Stariekians for making her do this, and anger at herself for failing.

“Imminent impact,” el-Matar called out from his station. This brought a wider grin from Kiesling. Until he continued, “Victor One.”

Her eyes immediately darted down to her tactical overlay and saw the red dot nearly upon them. Looking at her exterior camera revealed the massive, hulking form of the carrier seconds away from impacting them. Her breath caught in her throat. Failure. That’s what you are. The voice of her father continued to haunt her, no matter what she did.

“Tactical,” she croaked out, barely managing the word. “Overload reactor. Take these bastards with us.”

She knew the command would be followed without question. Her presence on the bridge assured that. However, the simple fact she needed to change her plans, the fact she was forced to abandon her mission without success, left a bitter taste in the back of her throat. Even if this final gambit destroyed the carrier, her name would go down in the history books as a failure.

Just as you deserve, her father said. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she wiped it away.

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