4304.01.01
Gravimetric weapons are born.
Celebrations. Crimson didn’t see the point, nor did Matt. They had become war heroes, having deterred Carmine from the destruction of the planet.
Crimson hated himself for having said what he said, for the way he had hurt Carmine. He wanted to apologize, but there was no redemption. He had betrayed her.
Ghost and Rahjaad were working feverishly on some sort of substitute for the koveran defence grid, but they had no templates, which meant a lot of money wasted on dead-end research initiatives. A good portion of the asteroid belt had become a testing facility.
Crimson became quieter than usual. He barely spoke with Jospeh, or even Lyla. He would fly out to the testing range and watch the asteroids vaporize as larger and larger weapons were tested. The secret to a koveran beam still eluded them.
Crimson spent months watching the tests (4304.04.04). It wouldn’t be long before the wrath of the Coalition fleet was upon them. They would have to produce something. He was still in rage, in anguish from what he had said. Even Lyla kept her distance.
On April 4th, 4304, warfare changed forever. Crimson formed an interstice, but instead of passing through it, he fired it out towards the asteroid field. A singularity formed instantly, disintegrating every asteroid within a hundred thousand kilometres. Rahjaad and Ghost stared in awe aboard his bridge.
The singularity took three minutes to fade. In that time it had altered Zemoria’s position and orbit, as well as destroyed the asteroid belt between the inner planets. Crimson had learnt to manoeuvre around it like a firedancer, mitigating nearly a thousand gees of pull as he moved in towards it, using his distortion field as a shield to counteract the effects. He saved the tactics he used and transferred the information to Admiral Nolan. He also gave them the firing sequence.
The Katana Class Battleship was born: A massive gravimetric weapons deployment platform. It was capable of firing a singularity every six hours. The singularity’s destructive range was unknown, but estimates prohibited it from being fired in the Zemorian solar system. By the time the first Coalition wave was nearing their solar system, the first Katana Class battleship was operational.
Crimson triangulated Carmine’s position through the link, making sure she was in that same holding position before letting the Katana open fire. She was.
The Katana class’s beem veins lit up to a bright white. Its barrel-like hull burnt as the gravimetric terminals extended outwards from the hull like spider’s legs, channelling the shot. It fired with a bright flash. It would be half an hour before they would see their results.
Maintenance crews had to immediately repair the Katana. It had lost its entire bow section during the firing sequence. Other sections of the hull had partially melted away as the veins failed to contain the energy. It would take an indefinite amount of time to repair. It might not even be salvageable.
Crimson watched it being towed to drydock when everyone stopped. The view of the stars seemed to bend, as if someone had punched a hole in the starscape. Rahjaad explained that it was the light being bent around the singularity. He had never seen such a powerful effect. Crimson could feel it pulling at him with a force of half a gee.
Everyone looked back at the planet, visible portions seemed to crack, but its gravity prevailed over that of the distant singularity. Three million had been killed as the mantle had buckled and the plates had shifted towards the singularity. Dales, one of the largest cities, had been right on one of the fault lines and been completely destroyed.
“Unbelievable.” Nolan said. “You have won us the war.”
Crimson beemed into the wreckage. Seventy Coalition capitals had been destroyed. The effort to get that many ships in one spot in the span of six months must have been monumental for a species like theirs. He took recordings of the wreckage. It seemed a city ship had been destroyed as well. The transponder signal marked it as the Falshmir, one of the larger city ships, over thirty kilometres in length. That put the Coalition death toll at over two billion.
Carmine was there, among the wreckage. For a moment Crimson thought he had miscalculated, that she had been there for the impact. There was a lot of interference from the wreckage, especially after the explosion of the city ship’s fusion core. She was alive. She had arrived after the destruction. She was grieving.
“That was Marina’s home.” she said sorrowfully. “She is crying to Raum.”
“I’m –“ Crimson’s apology was interrupted by a blinding flash. An explosion rocked his hull, nearly knocking him unconscious. The flash had originated from Carmine. An interstice opened. It was Titan.
Crimson was in shock, but Matt took over, moving him aside as two massive shots from the carrier’s supercannons rang past them. Their impact with the debris created megaton explosions, throwing Crimson about like a rag doll. A volley of weapons fire cut into Crimson’s hull. Matt pulled him away, weaving between the debris as it shattered around them. He gathered some with the gravimetric lens, trying to shield himself.
“Carmine… Carmine! Carmine!” Crimson was broken, shattered by Carmine’s loss. He spun around, arced his skids, initiated the firing sequence for the deadly gravimetric weapon. A shell cut into his skid as the firing sequence was completed.
Everything went dark. He awoke in a cloud of gas and heat. As the pain from his damaged skid registered, Crimson fell unconscious one last time.
Matt fought the impulse to succumb to deep sleep. Fighting the phantom signals that kept insisting his arm had been severed at the elbow. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, the chronometer had been completely destroyed, as well as his room. Miraculously, his uniform was intact, which was what had kept him alive.
He tested the electrostatic seal and life support system and left what remained of the bridge behind. The shrapnel and spall from the shell impact had cut holes through several tiers. There were depressurizations throughout the ship.
He looked out at the cloud that had formed around them. He was looking through a gash right at the corridor that led to the bridge. It would be on Crimson’s dorsal port side: A scar that extended down to the lowest tiers. He could trace the path of the metal fragment that had ploughed through – one of many. He began delegating the remaining drones, ordering them to seal arteries in any way possible. To hell with irreparable damage now, he just had to stop the bleeding.
There was something out there, in that cloud of gas and blood. He could sense it. He de-activated the electrostatic membrane and used the intact gravity plates to walk up his tattered ship, stopping right where the AHC would be had it not been ripped from its socket. Drones were headed for that carotid artery wound too. He knew it was hopeless. He knew Crimson was lost. That didn’t change the fact that he had to stop the bleeding, even though the bleeding had probably stopped hours, weeks, maybe years ago. The blood had coagulated, stained itself onto Crimson’s hull, ironically making his hull color healthier than it should be. The fore half of the starboard skid was gone. There were massive gashes webbing out from that point of impact like a fracture in vermillion ice.
The presence appeared again, emerging from the clouds. Its profile immediately registered it as a hybrid ship of some sort. It extended umbilicals out towards Crimson. Matt tried to scan the contents of the umbilicals, but he couldn’t find a sensor that worked. He slowly walked over to the other ship, somewhat surprised that the gravity plates still worked as well as they did. The distortion field most definitely didn’t.
He wondered if he was dreaming, if this ship even existed. Maybe he’d wake up in the ice clouds with Lyla, or perhaps this was a hallucination from a bond with Carmine. The thought of Carmine seemed to attract attention. He felt something wash over him. A presence spoke to him.
You! How did you install that interface? It was the ship speaking, a thick, strong male transmission. Matt poked at the back of his neck, but suddenly realized he couldn’t. When he finally saw what was left of his right arm he let out an incoherent scream, but then started laughing.
Identify yourself. The ship said.
Matt Bowen. Matt replied with a giggle, staring at his arm. He had lost everything from the elbow up, but the stump had healed. A drone must have tended to him. He checked all of his other limbs, they seemed intact. A piece of metal must have grazed him. What a graze it was.
Warnings blared in Matt’s neural vision as someone pointed a gun at him. He ignored it, simply laughing at the man. He looked to be in his twenties, blonde hair, round face. He had a chrome black uniform with even darker veins running along it. Almost like a spoof of Matt’s red and black uniform. The man came closer, staring in awe at the results his weapon seemed to be chirping at him.
“Where are you from?” the man asked.
Matt burst out laughing. “God just shoot me. Crimson’s dead.”
“He’s not.”
Matt laughed even harder.
“I can heal him. Umbra’s blood type naturally matches with Crimson’s.”
“Umbra, brilliant name! Brilliant! I can’t wait to wake up from this fucking nightmare.”
“You have. Welcome back to reality. We’ve been searching for you for some time.”
“Have you now? And where is here? Mr…”
“Sarune.”
“Sarune… Sarune.” His neural interface seemed to crackle as it tried to gather the information. Pickaxes started on his skull, but he had felt the pain before, fuck it. He kept scanning, finally finding a semblance of a memory. He correlated it with what he could access from Crimson’s database. He was lying on his back by the time he finally had enough information to say, “Oh right I remember you.”
“Come on.” David said, lifting Matt over his shoulder. “It’s time to get you safe.”
“Holy shit why am I in an insane amount of pain!” Matt suddenly yelled, his body throbbing.
Holy shit why am I in an insane amount of pain! Crimson cried.
Crimson!
Matt!
Crimson passed out again.
“I told you he’s alright.” David said.
–
Matt was in Umbra’s lounge now, sprawled out across a couch. It was nicely decorated, a dim red, similar to Crimson’s lounge. The support struts were a pitch black though, the entire ship seemed to outline its darkness. There was barely any natural red at all.
“You asked where here was earlier. We are in Carmine’s sanctum, a debris field and gas cloud that formed over time. It now spans several AUs. Sensors are useless here, you don’t see shit till you’re right on it.”
“Carmine’s Sanctum…”
“Yeah. Named after—“
“I know who it’s named after!” Matt snapped.
“Umbra’s mother.”
“Holy shit.” Matt should have been able to figure that out himself, but it couldn’t be possible. “You got trapped in your own weapon’s event horizon, Matt. You also sparked the most devastating war imaginable. In the two years you’ve been absent, the Zemorians are all but gone, their planet a worn out husk of what it once was. There is only one light side city left: Signus. Most of the life lives on the dark side now, which is partially light now due to all the gravimetric weapons that had been fired near it.”
“Two years… wow. What about the Coalition?”
“A few city ships lost, but nothing serious. Supply lines were hit pretty bad though, the Zemorians have been… never mind. We need to get you and Crimson rebuilt.”
“You can rebuild us?”
“Well we have the technology.”
Matt was taken to a large facility in Carmine’s sanctum.
“Welcome to Carmine’s Lair: Our city. It’s the safest place from the Coalition, and the heart of our resistance.”
People were staring at Matt as he walked by. Crimson was floating outside, attached to Umbra, people were cluttered around the window.
So Carmine was dead. And judging by the state this outpost was in, they weren’t winning. There were exposed panels everywhere. Fluids leaked from the ceiling. The bass from barely audible music in other chambers made paneling clatter.
“It seems you and Crimson have only just ‘caught up’, so to say.” David said. “While in reality the singularity disappeared a few months back. Umbra had been using his distortion shield to mitigate its effects since then, keeping us safe, but now the Coalition can venture in and smoke us out.”
“Good thing I’m back, then. What made you switch sides?” Matt asked.
“They killed Carmine. They wanted to steal Umbra, manipulate him to do their bidding, make him a slave.”
“That didn’t bother you before.” Matt replied cynically, wondering how Crimson would respond to this final truth: That Carmine really was gone, that Zemoria had been all-but-destroyed.
“Its always bothered me, and it was time I made a stand. I had to make a choice.” David said.
“I know what you mean.”
“Umbra will stay linked with your ship for as long as it takes. His assistance in the healing process should regenerate Crimson eventually. For you we’ll just need some good old fashioned surgery and genetics. Your new arm will be just like your old one.”
“Great.” Matt said. “Though it stills feels as if I haven’t woken up from the nightmare.”
“ You haven’t, but had you been closer to that event horizon, who knows what would have happened.”
“What of Raum? Did he get killed?”
“Nobody’s seen him yet. We assume you or Carmine got him.”
“I see. That’s good. They will pay.”
“Yes they will.”
“So Umbra was removed from Carmine?”
“No, she gave birth. After that, she knew her life was forfeit. She was expecting the encounter in Carmine’s Sanctum.”
“Hmm. Crimson… he never had a chance to apologize.” Matt muttered. Whilst he had caught up with reality, it would take time for reality to catch up to him.
David placed his hand on Matt’s shoulder “Life is laced with regrets. Don’t let them get to you.”
“How are the beems?” Matt was almost afraid to ask.
“As inhibited as ever. Ironically, the Coalition are doing the best job of keeping them safe and proliferate.”
“I see.”
–
“We’re gonna have to make some tough choices, Matt.” Nolan said.
“Admiral.” Matt said formally.
“I’m glad to have you with us again.” he said it in a tone that made it seem like Matt had just gone on some vacation. He didn’t even glimpse at his lost arm.
“Good to be back, Nolan.”
They began talking about the next course of action immediately, even while Rahjaad was prepping Matt for surgery. “So that’s that. I don’t know if you’ll forgive us for what we did.”
“You didn’t do anything. You tried to go for their supply lines. Nearly killed a beems and failed horribly. Maybe I’d be more crossed if you’d succeeded.”
“Our motive—“
“Fuck motive. You didn’t kill any beems, and we won’t kill any beems. We’re going straight for the Coalition, their city ships.”
“We were hoping you’d say something like that. Umbra still hasn’t tried firing a gravimetric weapon.”
“What better a person to teach him than his father?” Matt asked with a grin.
4306.10.27
Crimson was making a slow recovery. In these few months his hull had been repaired, but he was still very weak.
Lyla reported that the Coalition had begun advancing into Carmine’s sanctum. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Crimson had been ecstatic when he realized Lyla was alive. She had become Nolan’s command ship. Crimson’s apparent death had somehow broken her instinctive need for passivity. She was the first beems to ever accept weapons modules. She was also fully grown now, a quarter larger than Crimson.
Today was Crimson’s first test flight. Umbra was as big as his father, even though he was still younger by several months. Only by several months, though. It was surreal. Matt was still having a hard time believing. Umbra had a mastery of beemspace that even Crimson was amazed at. He could open and close interstices instantly, disappear and reappear nearly at will. The drain on his koveran reserves during the manoeuvres was massive, but the abilities were unbelievable. He had also mastered a koveran shield, which he extended like a visible distortion field, disintegrating anything that came near him, a great offensive and defensive weapon, and only one of many.
They detached the umbilicals, hoping Crimson would absorb koverans properly on his own. He didn’t… at first. His hull paled. A few hours had to pass before he was healthy enough to embark on the test flight.
Lyla was at the head of the group, with a pair of cruisers on her flanks. They were all equipped with koveran shields, devices that infused koverans into the electrostatic field the ships naturally generated. It was a great improvement over the electrostatic shield, and made it possible for the cruisers to hold their own against larger ships.
Nolan wasn’t sure how much of the Zemorian fleet remained intact. Zemoria’s nodepoint was a death trap. Nolan had barely managed to get the information out in time. If any other fleets were about, they were on their own. He wasn’t too confident about Zemorian numbers. The majority of the fleets had been lost in the battles at Carmine’s Sanctum. Even now it would claim more ships for its debris field and gas clouds.
Carmine’s Sanctum was already beginning to change with the disappearance of the singularity. It was expanding. The dense gas between the rocks and the debris was beginning to dissipate. Nolan worried that it soon wouldn’t matter whether or not they cleared the area. Sensors would still be able to uncover its secrets; find their base. For now, this expansion worked in their favour. The turbulent gases gave a plethora of false readings, and scouts reporting that its area had grown significantly in the last few months.
Lyla suddenly stopped, the visibly distorted gas around her calming as she relaxed her gravimetric lens. It was a signal for the entire fleet to stop behind her as she scouted ahead. They had done this before, many times before. Crimson watched her slowly move up. Armour plates covered vital areas of her hull. Weapon turrets swivelled to point ahead of her; others were retracted at odd angles, their firing arcs covering every portion of her azimuth. Her gravimetric ping was visible along the gas as it rippled outwards at light-speed.
“Four-ship –Reavers.”
Before Crimson heard anyone else say anything, she sped out at full acceleration, her two escort cruisers following. The other ships remained behind. Crimson was about to speed after her when he noticed Umbra was holding position; he followed suit.
Crimson saw the flashes and heard the weapons fire ripple along the gas. Suddenly Lyla and the two cruisers sped back, behind Umbra.
Umbra moved forward and up a little, Crimson followed. They felt a mild tremor.
“Get ready.” Umbra whispered to Crimson as the tremor grew louder. Soon it was a roar. A massive ship jutted into their field of view, still partially obscured. It was a battleship. Umbra immediately fired from barrels and lenses that seemed to run along the longitudinal line of his skids. The dark beams cut forward and into the hostile battleship’s fusion powered engines. Crimson fired off a few koveran laced rounds from his rebuilt AHC.
“Follow me.” Umbra hummed. The battleship’s damaged engines bled reactants into space, igniting the gas around it. Their group followed Umbra out of the explosion radius. They stopped several paces back, the veins on all the ships bright. All except for Umbra’s, his veins seemed to just glow darker. Even the beams he fired didn’t seem to have any particular color.
“Did you destroy it?” Crimson asked.
“Possibly. Reactor melt-downs are violent in these gaseous environments. We will have to check our kill.”
“That wasn’t a Reaver.” Crimson said.
Lyla overheard, “A capital is implied when we’re talking about Reavers.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“You’ll learn.” she replied calmly, “Or die…”
–
“Lyla’s changed, hasn’t she?” Crimson asked. He and Umbra were flying far behind now, watching the flanks for any more ships as Lyla’s group scouted ahead.
“She took your loss very hard.” Umbra said.
Crimson didn’t know how to respond.
“So how’s your gun?” Umbra asked.
“Good, I think. I didn’t see the hits.”
“We didn’t evolve to fight in gas. It can be a pain.”
“You didn’t evolve at all!” Lyla exclaimed with a laugh, nudging Umbra playfully. Crimson hadn’t sensed her approach, distracted by the plethora of unintelligible velocity readings the gases and particles gave out. His sensors had been so useless in all of this that for the first time he nearly yelped in surprise at the sound of her voice.
“It’s good to see you again, Lyla.” Crimson said. They had barely spoken during his recovery.
She flew between the two of them, and made slight contact with Crimson’s port side, but didn’t say anything. They continued on like that for several more hours.
Back at base, Nolan took Matt to the Black Nova Pub while the ships were out resting. It was bustling with voices and laughter. People were patting Matt on the shoulder or even giving him enamoured hugs. It made him feel uncomfortable. Matt noticed Crimson wasn’t doing his usual tactical scans. He felt a sense of calm safety in his mind. He let that sensation wash over him, calm him too.
“So how are you liking the Lair? We barely spoke during Crimson’s recovery, what with you with your ship all day and night.”
“Yeah, it’s been taking a while to sink in. Two years… I didn’t think time travel was possible.”
“Bah it’s not time travel. It’s just… bleh have another drink.” Nolan said, hitting the table with a fist to catch the barkeep’s attention.
“You know I never got a chance to thank you.” Nolan continued. “For saving my life, my officers. I was so damn down about losing the ship and crew that I didn’t take the time. I was a dick. I’m glad I have a second chance to say it. So thank you, for saving my life.”
“How’s life aboard Lyla?” Matt asked.
“Good, good. Different. Smaller. With the drones and all we only need a few hundred to operate the equipment, maintain the armour and weapons and all that good stuff. I’m glad she finally came around.”
“What do you mean?” Matt asked.
Nolan took another swig of his drink, “She was a goner. Completely destroyed at Crimson’s loss. She vanished out here. Didn’t return for months. We thought she had died.”
“She went out here?” Matt asked. Crimson was listening to the conversation now. Matt felt him drink down the memories of the last few words.
“Yep. Never came back. Never returned to Zemoria. We only ran into her during the exodus. Was good times.”
“Exodus?”
“The second Katana. We sort of… well let’s just say it wasn’t just the Coalition that took a laser drill to the place, if you know what I mean. The entire situation was fucked, from contact to final outcome. Traded a second Coalition wave for our homes.” he said.
“I see. I’m sorry. That was our project.” Matt said, he hadn’t touched his second glass yet. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank an alcoholic beverage. He wasn’t even sure if this was alcoholic. At that thought Crimson scanned it and confirmed it was – fourteen percent.
“Don’t be sorry. We needed a weapon capable of defeating the Coalition and we got it. We were just too slow to get it on the line. Too impatient to run the proper checks, make the proper changes and all. Rahjaad told us – warned us.”
Matt, Nolan said, “Finally came around.” That’s a logic error if they met at Carmine’s Sanctum.
Nolan’s drunk, Crimson. But Matt asked Nolan to clarify anyways.
“Oh right right. Yeah I did say that ‘int I. It was… shit a few years ago – can’t remember now. We decided to use the singularity you made to our advantage.”
“So it never went away?” Matt asked, feeling Crimson’s frustration at the detour.
“Not till a few months ago, anyways – We’re all hiding in the singularity, and using it damn well might I add—“
“Why did you have to hide in singularities if all your ships can jump? And how did you hide in a singularity?”
Damn it Matt!
He’s drunk, Crimson. He’s talking gibberish.
“We didn’t hide completely in the singularity, but we were able to get rid of its effects, remember? Umbra?”
“So Umbra had already joined your side?”
“Yeah we encountered him and Lyla together.”
What were they doing together?
“Why did you go into the singularity to begin with? How did you use that as a tactical advantage?”
“We err – I don’t… hmm… good question.”
I told you he’s talking gibberish.
He’s not. Scans show honesty.
Honest gibberish is still gibberish. People with jump drives don’t hide in singularities, even if they somehow don’t get crushed or frozen in time. They hadn’t even met Umbra yet till then.
Ask him what Lyla and Umbra were doing together, how they met.
Matt relayed.
“Dunno. But with Umbra’s help we were able to start rebuilding – start doing some damage. It’s what we’ve spent the last two years doing as the singularity faded. It’s weak enough to not need Umbra now. Now we can use him to lay down the law.”
Crimson watched Lyla and Umbra carefully. How they talked, her hull colors. Do you think they’re mates?
What? Matt asked. He had given in to the beverage, annoyed at the distraction as he talked about dirt particles with the Zemorians.
I should find out somehow. But maybe it’s better if I don’t. Ack I can’t think straight with your drunkenness. Crimson muffled the neural link. He flew up to them very calmly, watching their reactions. They reacted very friendlily, with Lyla pulling in close to him. Umbra slowly trotted off.
“I missed you so much, Crimson.” she said, pushing, the edges of her hull plates scratching. “We thought you were dead. Umbra and I were never able to find you. I shouldn’t have given up. We could have pulled you out sooner. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok. It’s ok.” Crimson crooned, her affection so satiating. She was so beautiful, so developed. He wanted to pull her away into some corner of the sanctum somewhere… Carmine’s Sanctum. Carmine. All the guilt and regret returned. Lyla noticed it, pressing closer as if trying to smother the discomfort. The plates and her size yelled Carmine; her hull color, reflecting the sanctum’s dim red glow.
“How’s your crew?” Crimson asked.
“Nobody is aboard. All the weapons and plates are secure.”
“That’s not what I meant…” Crimson replied quickly, creating a nanometre of breathing space between them.
“Oh. They are good. They keep my systems in check; maintain them well in these conditions.”
“That’s good … you look good. I like your plates, and the weapons.”
“Thank you. The plates are nice. A good backup in case the shield is taken down. Look.” She pulled away to make room and turned to show him her dorsal port bow plate. “I would have had a gash like yours too had it not been for this one. You can see the depression lines from where the shell hit. It shook me up pretty good. Was my first few months in the sanctum with Nolan. Then I got this one.” she continued, turning to show the aft starboard ventral plate. There were scars along her skid there where the shrapnel must have cut into her. Crimson imagined the pain and blood and hated himself for getting her involved.
“You don’t have to fight anymore.” he said.
“But I do. Until we win. Until this war is over. A war they started. They won’t stop until all us ‘beems sympathizers’ are destroyed.”
“I don’t want you to… risk yourself.” Crimson said, not knowing what he’d do if he lost her too.
“It’s not me you should be worried about.” she sang, turning to face him directly. Her ocular strips a black V trained right on him. Crimson could see the depressions for several retracted barrels. Even her skids had been bored into and had cannons installed.
“They cut into your skids?” Crimson asked.
“Those cannons siphon power straight from the koverans I feed to the gravimetric terminals. A deadly modification.”
“Did it hurt?”
She laughed, a little too hard, “The death toll of this war is well beyond the tens of billions. A little pain is nothing.”
“Are there any other beems modified like this?”
“No. They are either captured or gone.”
“What?”
“After Zemoria went down, the Coalition captured any beems that didn’t jump away to a distant nodepoint. I haven’t seen a beems without an inhibitor spike for… years.”
“Jospeh?”
“Captured.”
“We will get them back. All of them. We will destroy the Coalition. Launch gravimetric attacks on their solar systems, their ships.”
“I know.”
–
The Galaxy had never witnessed such carnage: Within three months, sixty billion Coalition had been killed. Three solar systems had been completely destroyed. Seven city ships had been hunted down. Umbra had learnt to harness the power of the gravimetric bomb, and used it to great effect. His shots were far more devastating than Crimson had imagined. Space had been transformed forever, torrents of gravimetric forces creating a celestial river rapid in their wake. They were on the road to Raum: The Coalition home system.
Jumps were too dangerous. Coalition ships were situated at every potential offset point. They had to cruise. It took time, but the advantages were tremendous. The Coalition ships’ signatures were immediately visible, while theirs were distorted if not completely gone. They could fire their lightspeed gravimetric bombs on fleets before they even knew what happened, before the light of their presence had even reached the defending fleets. Those nodepoints were immediately secured, with Zemorian ships moving to and fro between them, resupplying the crews of the fleets as they pushed forward.
Occasionally they would notice a koveran signature among the hostile fleet, and that was when things became complicated. Crimson swore he would never harm a beems, that he would not rest until he freed every single one, and ensured their freedom by killing every single Coalition citizen.
They would sweep in with devastating koveran strikes, dancing between the slower, heavier Raumen ships. Entire city fleets would be destroyed, their escorts incinerated like flies to a lattice of koveran beams and kinetic projectiles. It was rare for a battle to go on for more than a few minutes. Boarding parties would storm the beems, kill the crew aboard it, disable the inhibitor.
The beems’ reactions varied. Some were grateful; others were traumatized, or confused. A few jumped out to untraceable nodepoints, while others hid in Carmine’s Sanctum, assisting the Zemorians with logistics. Not a single beems agreed to modifications that would give it weapons of any kind. Nolan was surprised at how many decided to aid them. Seminars had to be held weekly for the influx of rescued beems. They had to all be told to not jump to Zemoria, a place they had jumped to on instinct for thousands of years. Not all of them obeyed, some didn’t have time to obey, jumping out the moment the inhibitor was disabled. Several boarding parties were lost that way.
Within six months, a buoy was left in their path by the Coalition. Ghost immediately scanned it thoroughly, making sure it wasn’t a trap of any sort. It was a simple comms buoy. It was the day the Zemorians had been waiting for. The Coalition surrendered. They were not interested in discussing terms. It was an unconditional surrender, they stated that they had already pulled their fleets out of the offset points, and that Zemoria was now clear of Coalition activity.
Raum and Ghost, the stealthiest of the fleet, investigated. Zemoria was clear. There were celebrations at the Black Nova Pub in the Lair. Soon they would be able to reopen the original. The only ones who didn’t celebrate were the ones responsible for the majority of the destruction. Crimson and Umbra were flying together, away from the pub. David was sitting in Crimson’s lounge with Matt, having a drink.
“I don’t like it. There’s still a lot of Coalition out there.”
“Neither do I, but the Zemorians accepted the surrender. I didn’t even have a say.”
“We aren’t technically Zemorian.” David suggested.
That was all he had to say, they had no qualms about what they would do. They left and continued the crusade.
“I have a full awareness of beemspace. If a single free ship is harmed I will intercept the attackers and rain death down upon them.” Umbra said. He would disappear on occasion to intercept Coalition ships that began attacking beems after becoming aware of their situation.
They had killed Carmine. There would be no mercy. Crimson knew the path he had to take. It was the unavoidable outcome of all the choices that had led him to this point. He ignored the occasional beemspace transmissions begging them to stop, from both the Coalition and the Zemorians. Countless planets were incinerated as the gravimetric singularities opened next to them, ripping them apart into their base elements. The suns would go nova, losing their containment as the gravity of the powerful black bomb ripped apart system after system. They decided to call the weapon The Black Nova, and it was about to be deployed on Raum itself.
“Hello Nolan.” Matt said. It had taken years of travel to hunt down every Coalition, every system, every ship. There were none left. It had taken even longer to find Raum. Now Matt knew why. “You were hiding Raum from me, Nolan. Why.”
“You’ve let your thirst for vengeance corrupt you, make you crazy, Matt. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’ve killed hundreds of billions. Not even the Coalition had committed atrocities this grave.”
Umbra was submerged in beemspace, weapons trained on Raum. He was a celestial submarine, ready to strike in a moment’s notice.
“Step aside, Nolan.” Matt hissed.
“You destroy this planet and you commit genocide.”
“There is still Zemoria, and several systems had defected and been spared.”
“Even those systems pray for you to stop. You are destroying their home, their history, their culture.”
“It doesn’t deserve to be spared. A species as vile as this one.”
“You yourself are raumen, Matt.”
“We’re all technically raumen.” Except for the Vorchans, who, unsurprisingly, had not lifted a finger against the destruction of the raumen race.
“No, Matt. You are a true Raum.”
“What the hell are you on about? Your fleet better engage or move, now.”
“Matt. We have spoken to the other raumens, heard their cries.”
“As have I.”
“Their leaders are chosen from their past. They ride onto the throne using Titan. The ship is capable of manipulating space-time. It was our gift to them, and a solution to the temporal remainder issue the beems had created.”
“I’m from Earth. Not Raum.” Matt said.
“Earth is Raum, Matt. Crimson jumped there because it was the only place in this galaxy that would have ensured his survival. The only place he would have been safe would have been under the asylum of Raum. He returned, like Titan.”
“Matt.” Crimson could not sense a single lie in what Nolan was saying. “If you destroy Raum, you risk destroying Earth. We do not know how that gravimetric weapon works.”
“I do not believe this idea of me being Raum. I killed Raum.”
“Did you? Or was he trying to kill you for fear of you usurping his throne? Matt. I am begging you. Do not destroy this planet. You risk destroying everything.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Nolan.” Matt said calmly, “I suggest you jump, now.”
Umbra fired The Black Nova.