“Five minutes until space-time fusion.”
Ablïarsec Néïc Dubreuscr Bœrh Parhynr Lamhirh, the second-ever Ship Commander of the raid ship Flicaubh, nodded to signal she’d heard the announcement loud and clear.
The voice of Ecryua, the Vice Captain-cum-Navigator, echoed through the bridge. It sounded surprisingly calm, considering the space-times they were fusing with were those of the enemy’s mobile space-time mines.
“An inter-bubble communication from Squadron Command,” reported the Communications Officer, Rearguard Starpilot Yatesh. “It says, ‘switch over to single-ship bubbles. 1107.’”
“Send them the roger-that signal,” Lafier nodded. She checked the time on her wristgear. 1107 was the squadron’s standard time — 11:07.
The corps that the Flicaubh belonged to, Trample-Blitz Squadron 1, was currently four-ships-to-a-bubble, and charging against the thick space-time particle current emanating from the Mugh Saudelacr Érucfar (Central Disc Sector of Milky Way Portals).
“Vice Captain,” said Lafier, “space-time splitting, 1107.”
“How reckless,” she muttered, as she prepared for splitting.
Lafier agreed. Splitting into single-ship bubbles would increase their maneuverability, but it would weaken their defenses. They were forced to plunge into a barrage using a frailer formation.
“Can we just avoid them?” asked Ecryua. If they could, then they could make up for the lack of defenses with their newfound maneuverability.
“No,” said Lafier promptly. “If we dodge them, the reinforcements will have to deal with them.”
Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 was at the head of the assault sub-fleet Bosurec, with the four assault squadrons that were Bosurec’s principal forces in back.
Assault ships were weak to mines. Typically, a saubh mésgér (escort squadron), specializing in anti-mine defense, would be deployed in front of the assault squadron, but not this time. The escort ships had taken heavy losses in the preceding battles, and it seemed the command center’s policy was to save them for later use.
In place of the usual ships, the raid ships of the Trample-Blitz Squadron and the patrol ships of the Recon Squadron would be their shield. Such was the Glagamh Byrer’s (Fleet Command Center) strategy.
“Splitting in ten seconds,” announced Ecryua. “Eight, seven, six, five...”
Lafier rose from the seat of the Ship Commander and drew forth the control gauntlet. The senses of the ship flowed into her through her access-cable, but she felt a strange unease from how she wasn’t piloting. However, she would have to get used to this discomfort. Unless she got demoted, she wouldn’t be steering a warship through her own control gauntlet ever again.
“Now splitting,” said Ecryua, disinterestedly.
The four raid ships separated, each now at the center of their own pocket universes. With this, they had drastically reduced the time it’d take for the mines to make contact with them.
“Fusion in ninety-two seconds,” stated Ecryua.
“Deploy the magnetic shield,” said Lafier.
“Magnetic shield deployed. All clear,” said the Inspector Supervisor, Mechanics Deca-Commander Grinshia.
“Fusion in sixty seconds.”
“Set the mobile turrets to auto-firing mode; have them fire within a range of a hundred.”
The sides of each raid ship sported countless laser cannons. Older patrol ship models had antiproton cannons, but they were lacking in power, so Caubh-class raid ships had only laser cannons as their mobile turrets.
“Setting mobile turrets to auto-firing mode. Firing range, within one hundred.” The Inspector Supervisor was also in charge of the turrets; since they fired automatically, there was little need for human intervention. The most important thing was to make sure they were in proper working order. “Preparations complete. Safeties off on all gunports. Turret Clusters 1 to 8, all clear.”
“Fusion in thirty seconds.” Even Ecryua’s voice was tinged with tension. Or perhaps that was just Lafier’s imagination.
What Lafier wasn’t imagining was the ardent gaze on her, courtesy of Linewing Starpilot Gnomboch. The young man’s hair was a dark and reddish indigo blue.
Lafier knew what he wanted to say; she had served on a warship’s bridge as a linewing herself, after all. Poor Gnomboch was dying to be given some task to do. He had been vested with the position of clériac (messenger). On a raid ship, a messenger was roïtlaciac, roïdrociac, and roïrilbigac (deputy gunner, deputy communications officer, and deputy navigator) — which was to say, he was a chore boy. His job description was piloting the smallcraft, but in practice, it was whichever Flight Branch starpilot was free who served as the smallcraft’s Skipper. Plus, the smallcraft usually only took off when the warship was in anchorage someplace far from the zone of battle, where the Flight Branch starpilots had more time on their hands than they knew what to do with.
Moreover, the fact that the Flight Branch starpilots apart from the Gunner couldn’t steer the ship with their own control gauntlets was a source of woe for them. Naturally, the opportunity to pilot didn’t come to novice starpilots all too often, which meant Gnomboch was perpetually saddled with all of the odd jobs.
Lafier’s little brother came to mind. He, too, was currently fighting somewhere here in the planar dimension, as a linewing starpilot.
Lafier decided to give him a job. “Gnomboch, I’m making the mobile turrets controllable from your console. Put your mind to your duties as Deputy Gunner for the remainder of the battle.”
To be frank, manning the mobile turrets was something a child could do, and almost as sport. But it would make for some good experience for a novice like him. Besides, having nothing to do while aboard a warship engaged in combat was nerve-racking; fear would have free rein to harrow his heart.
“Thank y-...” But it seemed something inside Gnomboch didn’t agree with saying thanks in such a scenario. “Roger that.”
Lafier worked her console and granted a portion of its functionalities to Gnomboch’s. It took nary a moment, after which she probed the inside of the space-time bubble using her frocragh. A spot on the interior surface was already frothing — a sign of fusion. The mine was coming through.
She glanced at the planar space map. The enemy mines were expending every effort to stop the raid ship squadron. She wouldn’t have it any other way; now they didn’t need to go out of their way to find them.
“Three of them are fusing,” said Ecryua. “...They’re here.”
Three mines came hurtling toward them almost simultaneously. Yet Lafier didn’t move. There was no need just yet.
“Turret Clusters 2 and 3 have begun firing,” reported Gnomboch, audibly nervous. “They’re operating without incident.”
“You said it without stammering!” teased the Gunner, Arbaumh, who had become his direct superior, albeit temporarily. “Way to go.”
Gnomboch was clearly in no position to react to that jab; he kept glaring at the console in intense concentration.
It was the mobile turrets that took care of mines: they mowed them down automatically. While leaving it to the relatively weak laser cannons induced anxiety, firing the EM cannons — the main weapons of a raid ship — would be mostly pointless, since there was little chance their payload would hit the bull’s-eye. As such, they had no choice but to bear the uncertainty.
The mines continually veered in their course as they rushed ever closer. The light beams fired from the turrets got solid beads on them, but the mines wouldn’t go down from single hits. That was because mobile space-time mines were akin to unmanned, planar space navigation-capable ships in their own right.
The mine at the fore started flying in a straight line at uniform speed. Its control core must have been destroyed. At once, several dozen beams of light focused on it, and it shattered, dispersing its antimatter contents. The clump of antimatter reacted with normal matter, all the while maintaining its trajectory toward the Flicaubh. But it was no longer a threat; it had already mostly converted into energy, and when it did reach the hull, the remaining antiprotons would be deflected by the magnetic shielding.
The second of the three mines had also been destroyed and rendered harmless. But the third was still worthy of concern.
“Change course!” ordered Lafier. “Forty up, twenty-five left. Upon veering, all starboard thrusters at full throttle.”
“Roger that.”
The raid ship adjusted its bearings and began maintaining the distance between it and the mine. The mine was faster, of course; this was only buying them a tick or two of time. But that was all-important right now. The starboard turrets obtained the optimal firing position and focused their beams on the mine, which exploded.
“Another four, headed for us,” said Ecryua.
There was no time to take a breath. That wasn’t enough mines to saturate their little universe just yet.
The mines frequently and repeatedly accelerated and decelerated in order to evade getting hit, but the laser beams chased them down and laid the finishing blows.
Lafier occasionally directed the crew to maneuver the ship this way or that, her eyes glued to the planar space map. There were ten space-time bubbles in a row, lying in wait for Trample-Blitz Squadron 1. They were most likely patrol ships, one per bubble.
In all probability, they had a head-to-head fight with an enemy patrol ship ahead of them. Needless to say, the enemy were under heavy fire themselves. The mines dispatched by the faraway strike squadron had overtaken Trample-Blitz Squadron 1, and they were fusing with the enemy ships’ bubbles. Neither side was using their mines for defense; they weren’t aiming to fend off each other’s volleys, instead aiming solely for the extermination of the enemy — no matter the losses.
Lafier knitted her eyebrows, tearing her attention from the space map back toward her out-of-ship spatiosensory perception-scape. Three mines were tracing complex lines in their path toward their portside. The mobile turret clusters on that side might not be enough to deal with them.
Lafier ordered the ship to veer in an attempt to buy some time. At the same time, she set the targets’ order of priority, and tried to destroy them. Yet one of the mines managed to sneak into close range.
The lasers focused on it, and it detonated. The ship rocked.
“Any damage?” asked Lafier.
“Extremely slight damage, Commander. None inside the ship, at least,” said the Clerk, Vanguard Starpilot Linn Ssynec Raucr Dreuc Haïder Ghintec.