Keep up the good work, Your Highness.
She sensed what the ship was sensing through her froch. She could “see” the consort ships around them.
On occasion, the trade ship Ecryua had been on was near other ships. And on those occasions, her father would seat her in the Assistant Steerer’s Seat so she could sense the space outside the ship.
She could swear she heard him say it like he was there with her: “This is a race, Naurh. And Daddy’s gonna win.”
The “race” was far from an edge-of-your-seat nail biter. The ships had all been more or less side-by-side. If a ship gained on any other or lost ground to any other, it was slowly and steadily — probably because there was very little variance between their acceleration performances.
And this present moment was no different. In point of fact, she might even say this was even more boring than back then. The consort ships’ acceleration performances were identical. Given that they were all the same model of ship, that made sense. As such, their positions relative to each other were totally fixed, as if some invisible rod had been run through them.
Until, suddenly, one of the ships began falling back. It was the Crorcaubh.
“Crorcaubh, what’s wrong?” sounded the Commandant’s voice.
“The output of Auxiliary Engine 2 is unstable,” came the voice of a Crorcaubh starpilot.
“Crorcaubh Ship Commander,” called Atosryua.
“Yes, ma’am. This is Vice Hecto-Commander Baumderh.”
“Can you maintain the current power output?”
“We’re not sure.”
A pause. Silence.
“Okay, Crorcaubh. Fall back.”
“But Commandant,” said the Crorcaubh Ship Commander, “the ship is in tiptop shape otherwise. And the other auxiliary engines are in working order.”
“That’s not good enough. You understand, don’t you?”
“...Understood. May victory be yours.”
“Thanks, Crorcaubh. We’ll catch you later.”
Ecryua’s spatiosensory perception sensed the Crorcaubh falling back. Or perhaps “falling away” was more accurate. As they’d stopped accelerating, the ship was dropping drastically down. It was already far below the Flicaubh.
Whenever her father had won a race, he would sing a song, usually improvised. He’d sing songs he liked many times over as well, but those were also songs of his own invention.
Ecryua felt the urge to hum a tune, too, but she stopped at writing songs in her head. Her head composed a pretty good song, but she was well aware that others would be unable to comprehend it. Her father’s songs were of ill repute even among their Ecryua Clan relatives. It appeared as though he and she alone were furnished with the musical sensibilities that made his songs sound euphonious. The only person left who could correctly appraise the songs of Aicryac Üémh Tlyzr Naurh was Aicryac Üémh Tlyzr Naurh.
Gnomboch was nervous. He would pilot not a smallcraft but a warship, albeit only temporarily. Of course, he had done so at the starpilot academy, and countless other times as a trainee starpilot. But this was actual combat.
“Messenger, are you awake?” It was Yatesh’s voice.
He’d been waiting for the sweet sound of Yatesh’s voice. He would take the helm after Yatesh. “Yes, sir!” he replied right away.
“Can I trust you with the thing?” Yatesh sounded apprehensive.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be okay.”
“Don’t strain yourself, Linewing. Your job is to stay still. If you think up some independent navigation route, now’s not the time to test it out.”
“I know that, sir.”
“Good. Now do your best.”
“I will!” He had already prepared his access-cables and control gauntlet a good while ago. “I’m ready to go at any time. Please let me pilot.”
“I’ve already transferred control.”
“Ah... yes, sir.” Gnomboch felt the urge to move the fingers of his left hand, but if he did that, the ship would veer significantly from its course.
He sensed a swarm of ships far above them. It was the force of patrol ships at the lead. Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 lacked firepower on its own, so a contingent of patrol ships had been added for this mission. Those patrol ships had had their mines removed, as they were unnecessary for this operation, but even so, they had more mass than raid ships, and as such were inferior with regard to acceleration. In addition, their construction made them frailer than raid ships, so they could not withstand the acceleration levels that Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 was putting out. That was why they had departed beforehand.
They had to get to their destination before it came time to carry out the mission. If they didn’t attack simultaneously, then the attack’s effectiveness would be halved.
Gnomboch took a deep breath. They had to sail all the way over there. And in order to do that, he wasn’t allowed to do a single thing.
So, I have to work not to work. At that thought, Gnomboch nearly busted out in laughter. Perhaps his spirit was more battered than even he had realized. The Linewing pulled himself together. “Auxiliary engines ceased. Detaching.”
“Roger,” replied Lafier.
The auxiliary engines, which had used up their fuel and propellant, were cut loose. But their role hadn’t come to an end just yet. In accordance with inertia, they thrust toward whichever low priority targets they could. They would most likely get intercepted on the way, but it couldn’t hurt to try. If they did reach their marks, even the light damage they would inflict was something. Among the staff officers who formulated this strategy, there must be one or more who were both frugal and fond of giving the enemy a hard time.
The raid ships that detached their auxiliary engines continued accelerating at their base level of propulsive power. The artificial gravity reverted back to toward-the-floor mode, and the seats assumed their normal shapes.
Jint sighed audibly. As a landworlder, it must have had an effect on him.
“No abnormalities detected,” said Grinshia. While she was also a landworlder, she was quite composed.
“We’ll arrive at the firing point in thirty minutes’ time,” said Ecryua.
Everything was going as planned.
Lafier leaned back into her chair and focused on the information flowing into her brain through her froch. She gleaned how, at these speeds, the hydrogen atoms drifting through the vacuum of space pelted the hull much like a planet’s atmosphere would. She felt uneasy. Unlike their ancestors, who had to deal with timespans that shifted by whole years when accelerating or decelerating, Abhs of the present era tended to instantly flee to planar space. They could be called dissolute compared to their forebears, given how they rarely ever reached speeds like these. At the very least, this was a first for her.
She shook off her anxiety and addressed her crew. “This is your Ship Commander. Soon we will commence our hit-and-run attack on the enemy warship construction site. We won’t be going too fast on the retreat, so do not fret.”
“Firing point in E-minus twenty-five,” said Ecryua.
“Don’t concern yourself with enemy ships, Arbohf,” ordered Lafier.
“Roger.”
They knew that their movements were being picked up on from afar. The enemy was currently attempting to position themselves for the counterattack. But the allied ships were doing Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 a favor and keeping away from its course.
The patrol ship corps led the way, charging right in front as if they were outriders.
Farther in front lay the target, the enemy construction site. Naturally, it was not undefended. The site itself was equipped with defensive fire capabilities, the most menacing of which were the excessively powerful laser cannons that the PSSU had taken a liking to. They were even stronger than the main cannons of assault ships, and they wouldn’t stand a chance against a direct hit. Luckily, allies had put up a sebyrec sera (reflection cloud), which dispersed laser beams. Reflection clouds needed to be rather thick to be of any use, so they didn’t serve much of a purpose in fleet battles where friend and foe alike changed position incessantly. But here, where the target and course were fixed, they proved an effective tool.
Reflection clouds glittered in an alluring way. But they couldn’t fend off every single laser beam. Even though the beams that made it through the reflective shard-fog were lower-intensity than before, they still posed a threat.
“Evasive tactics,” ordered Atosryua.
“Arbohf,” said Lafier, following those orders. “Switch to evasive tactics. Radius 500.”
“Roger.” So as not to change course, Arbohf fired the attitude control engines in short bursts.
“Ship Commander, multiple objects are flying at us! They appear to be enemy shells!” said Yatesh.
“Gnomboch,” said Lafier. “I’m entrusting you with the mobile cannons again. Focus only on targets ahead. Don’t track down what’s already passed us by.”
“Roger that, ma’am.” Gnomboch jumped for the control console.
“Commencing fire in ten minutes,” reported Ecryua.
One of the patrol ships in front turned into a ball of flame. Even as it scattered into discrete pieces, a clump of plasma whooshed not far past their rear. Its mobile cannons spewed out a ray system as they exploded. The enemy shells burst, and everlasting darkness followed.