Publica

Here is a new story with some editing having been done. Comments as to the plot development and such would be great. I haven't spent a lot of time really to edit it, so there might be some mistakes here and there.

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Publica

Section 1

Prologue

A horn bellowed through the halls of the ship signalling the imminent battle. Its sound carried an ominous overtone, amplified by the constricted halls. The Imperator found the long drawn out horn a disconcerting sound. Pain would rise in his stomach when armies clashed about him.

In long strides, he stepped into the command hall of the flagship, dipping into the chaos of a commander’s view of a battle. Holographic displays fluttered about in the centre surrounded by the blurred chatter of a dozen officers surrounding it. Displays showed every ship in the fleet, but the most drawing scene lay at the end of the room. Splashed across the entire scope of the wall, a screen glowed with the images of the planet directly ahead of their fleet. Almost indiscernible at this distance lay a dozen capital size enemy ships.

“Imperator, the Publica fleet awaits your command,” a voice stated clear and loud beside him. Soon after the words were spoken, an armoured soldier shouted out his presence to the officers.

“Show me,” he said in a quick but polite tone. He did not appreciate the common courtesies of speech. Instead, he valued his words closely, saying only enough to convey his point to another man.

The officer led him to the centre of the bridge, waving his hand at the holographic display. Only two high ranking officers stood before him, ready to give advice. The Imperator knew, what they really wanted was his approval for their plans to show their ingenuity and let them rise in rank.

“Imperator Couratus,” the first officer said in a slow drawn out tone. He was Dactavian, a loyal man who had served him many years already. Like him, he was never one to be polite in talk. “There are, perhaps, a dozen Federation ships as expected. They have no Imperial allies to guard them this time.”

Julian, the other man, a cautious soldier having risen in rank due to his incredible ability to survive the most suicidal of missions, threw in his advice. “I suggest we fire a volley from our barrage cannons and let them launch their slip dogs at us,” he said. The Imperator sensed something beneath his words and waved his hand for him to continue. “Imperator, if I might be so bold, I do not like what I see. This is a trap.”

The comment brought a loud scoff from Dactavian. In a mocking tone he said, “We have chased these barbarians from the Grandeur system of Palidinium to this worthless gas giant Commodum. They are cut off, without supply and with no friends of their damnable honourless barbarians.”

“These barbarians,” Julian spit, “launches a limitless supply of these living ships at us, without care and without end. A dozen of these Federation ships can only be a small piece of whatever fleet they came from. Undoubtedly there are in reality five hundred ships to our hundred here and with countless more fighters.”

Dactavian was to counter the man’s argument when the Imperator put up his hand. Battle could not be fought with bickering officers. “Enough,” Couratus began, “It is obvious twelve Federation ships do not comprise more than a small wing of a fleet. I do not trust it,” with those words Julian smiled. “However, they must still be destroyed. We will begin with a standard barrage and then send the Serpens Wing to spearhead an attack alone.”

Julian nodded, realizing his ships were just volunteered to make the attack. The orders were given, and each officer settled back with the Imperator’s mixed plan. Only sigils and three dimensional shapes were visible on the holographic display but on the massive screen in the command room, all eyes watched the powerful blasts of firepower from the barrage.

A series of bright white balls vaulted forward from the barrage cannon of every ship. Even if the weapons made no sound in space, Couratus could hear the loud pulse of energy inside the ship. Another series flew forward from the fleet. Another was fired. Each fired before the shots had even reached their target, eventually creating a field of explosions no enemy could escape. Couratus was no scientist, but he knew enough firepower raced forward that could level whole cities.

White flashes erupted in the distance. Soon more explosions tore apart the space, screening the planet from view in a glorious display of fire. Couratus raised his hand, and the screen focused deeper at the planet, displaying the Federation ships in whole rather than mere dots.

Couratus watched as the last volleys erupted above the planet’s sky. One of the sharp angle designed ships was hit directly and an entire wing shredded from the impact. Colourful gases vented from the ship; its antimatter core had ruptured. Pieces of the hull tore away at the heat of the rapidly reacting antimatter. Suddenly, its forward piece swung into view and for a moment, Couratus could imagine the scream of the living ship and the cybernetic crew onboard. It was over in seconds as the lights faded in the ship and he knew it was dead.

It seemed cowardly to him to use such firepower against enemies. On any day Couratus would value honourable melee combat with his foes but the Federation knew no honour. The words valour and courage meant nothing to those barbarians that hailed from Earth. It was odd to know that all humans had originated from the planet.

Finally, a wing of two dozen ships broke off from his fleet and moved into formation. The Serpens ships began launching wings of fighters, still firing lighter barrages at the enemy. These were more focused blasts, using hyper-event cannons. They were hardly deadly at this range, but the light-speed movement of the shots made them more accurate.

The Federation ships scrambled back into the resemblance of some formation but it was obvious that they were already too injured from the initial barrage. Three ships lay dead in space, and the others were visibly damaged. They waited at the planet like maimed lambs for the slaughter.

Slowly, the Publica ships reached their target, and powerful repeater negative energy cannons bellowed out their fury. Rapid successions of bolts punched through the lead Federation ship. Holes were rent across its side, spilling its contained atmosphere into space in great decompression explosions. The craft gave no response in weapons, instead, dipping to the side and flying forward awkwardly. A secondary explosion tore through the ship, and it lurched forward spinning to its death.

Fighter craft swept into view just as the remaining Federation ships launched their missiles simultaneously. Streaks of plasma traced the path of the projectiles as they ignored the fighter craft and slammed into the hulls of the Publica ships. The damage was dispersed across a dozen boats, leaving a hole in each but crippling none.

Debris began to create a treacherous path for the Publica fighters to tread but the capital ships left their fire power for each other. In a series of strafe runs, each wing of fighters cut swathes of armour off critical joints in the ships of the Federation fleet. Open holes were struck again by massive beams of death from capital ships.

A Federation ship erupted in a brilliant explosion of colours as its core detonated. It was soon followed by two more terrible displays of death and destruction. Another starship was torn in half from the firepower of Publica weapons. Couratus mouthed a word of honour to the brave Federation soldiers.

“Imperator!” Julian shouted, startling him. The man’s fingers pointed at a single sphere that had suddenly materialized on the holographic display. Couratus narrowed his eyes, while Dactavian whispered “no” under his breath.

Immediately, the command crew switched the screen to display the spherical Federation probe that hovered above their fleet. Purple flashes, like stars a hundred times their size blinking in a black night sky, erupted in the hundreds across his view. With half a thousand Federation ships hyperspacing into combat, the Battle of Commodum had suddenly become a deathtrap for Couratus.

Streaks of plasma followed after the thousands of missiles swirling toward them in unison. Couratus watched, thinking, the Federation must be using nuclear missiles, for antimatter was too much a waste to use upon his fleet. They reserved those to burn planets. The metal shook with pain underneath his feet as the first missile struck his ship. Nuclear flashes blinded the screen, but not the sensors.

Cubes and spheres disappeared rapidly on the holographic display. The screen displayed nothing but white to them. Outside, Publica ships desperately defended themselves against the onslaught. One ship managed to fire off several volleys from its repeaters, tearing enough holes in a Federation ship to breach its core but it was not enough to stop it all.

Another missile struck his ship, and this time the metal floor slipped from underneath him as the entire craft lurched to the side. The artificial gravity was failing, and he needed no calls of a horn inside his ship to know everything was falling apart. Fires burst from overloaded electrical systems, and support beams ruptured from under the impact of more than a dozen conventional shell ammunition.

“Retreat the fleet, but Faction Couratus shall remain to guard their movement,” Couratus spat out with contained fury. “If I’m to die, I shall die with sword in hand,” he announced. The short lived Imperator of the Publica turned to his helms man and pointed to the closest and largest Federation ship on his display. “Board that,” he drew his sword then, feeling the heat wash onto his hands as a layer of energy enveloped the blade. It was the last order this Imperator would give.