Whitmore Day Read online

  The Kvash fleet was the most diverse in Star Force, for they had specialty ships for a wide range of situations. Too many, some had argued, but given their lack of personal movement speed necessary for Commando work, the Kvash had focused their development on their Naval division long ago under trailblazer Paul-024’s personal direction, and the results had been more than impressive. They’d had to earn it, though, over a long and tedious ordeal to hone their skills and battle acumen, for Paul hadn’t given them the playbook of others to copy. They had to develop their own with him nudging them one way or another, forcing them to adapt and learn…and the results had eventually led to their elevation to a Knight race.

  That was a major feat to accomplish, but it came with far more responsibility than fanfare. The Kvash were at a physical disadvantage to the V’kit’no’sat races who had become the original Knight races, save for the Ari’tat. They too were not well suited to Commando work, though at least they had mobility. The Kvash didn’t. But as Paul was fond of pointing out, Naval beat everything, so he’d focused their attention on that primary avenue and fleshed out their other capabilities around it.

  Most Kvash warships smaller than 8 miles long were capable of going underwater and doubling as aquatic ships. Larger than that and you’d be hard pressed to find an ocean large enough to hold one. And ships smaller than 20 miles long were not designated as frontline ships, but rather suited for patrol and skirmisher work. Those the Kvash had many of, but not in this convoy. Against the Hadarak they would not hold up well, so the smaller vessels were being retasked to patrol Rim territory that the other Knight races were pulling their forces out of to send here, to the front, along with the Kvash heavy hitters.

  This fight was going to be one of attrition, and the ships involved had to be massive enough to take damage and keep fighting. That was the only way they would win, which the V’kit’no’sat had discovered long ago, and bringing in smaller vessels would allow the Hadarak to pick them off over time, giving the Hadarak the advantage because they could grow more faster than Star Force could build them. The Kvash had known this since before the surge began. The only way they would win was if their ships didn’t go down against the swarm and were able to persist, undergo repairs, and get back into the fight.

  Sheev’nora’s battlecruiser fit that description, with armor so thick the weapon batteries had to have snorkels to get up to the surface to fire out. The ship also had a single Essence weapon, or in this case a defensive one in the form of a shield to protect them from a one-shot from a Lurker if they encountered one. There weren’t many left out there that Star Force could find, for they’d already killed more than 120,000 of them over the years. But every now and then one would pop up and cause havoc if the ships involved didn’t have some basic defenses against a disintegration attack.

  All the Kvash heavy hitters did, though they didn’t have enough reserves to withstand more than 3 hits. Essence was the most valuable commodity within the galaxy, and finding enough to supply the entire Kvash fleet, let alone others, was mindboggling. Sheev’nora still didn’t know how Star Force was doing it, and all the better to keep their production facilities secret. He knew the Uriti were involved, but the Preserves were now empty and the massive war beasts were nowhere to be found. The Captain assumed they were somewhere safe, but even with all of their known numbers he didn’t understand how Star Force was producing so much Essence.

  His ship had filled up enroute, docking with a tanker to top off their own Magicite well, but where it had come from he did not know and did not ask. But every ship in the Kvash fleet was full and ready to survive a Lurker backdoor attack if it happened, though one attacking a convoy such as this would be suicide. The Kvash battlegroup he was assigned to had 23,933 ships in it, and it was going to take hours more for the rest of them to arrive here.

  But there were already Tyranosaurs, Triceratops, and Pterodactyl fleets here in addition to the V’kit’no’sat ones guarding the system. Their numbers dwarfed the Kvash, and understandingly so. Kvash did not reproduce fast, nor had they gotten a head start like so many other races in Star Force had. The Kvash had to rebuild their entire civilization from a few rescued prisoners taken from the Li’vorkrachnika, and everything since then had been an uphill battle, but one they made slow and consistent progress at, which was their way.

  They were all united in the effort, with only a few individuals choosing to follow another path. That was why they were suitable to become a Knight race, whereas others groomed their protectors from volunteers. Even the Humans who had founded Star Force could not claim such unity, and the Kvash took great pride in that fact. They were bound as one, and committed to the duty of defending the empire beyond just their own race. Each person chose that duty, but their civilization was structured on the fact that they would, and that gave them many advantages.

  Their Commando weakness had been countered with mobile forts that would deposit a massive amount of communications gear onto a planet, and through that they would remotely control infantry machines and mechs. It wasn’t as good as having living people on the surface, for communications could be interfered with, but when you had control of orbit you could make such things work. And Kvash battle strategy held that you never initiated ground combat unless you had warships in the sky above.

  Dominate space first, diminish surface defenses second, then insert ground units to finish the task. They weren’t the best Knight race at such things, but then again the Brontosaurus couldn’t go into underground caverns either given their size, so they relied on Esquires to assist them.

  The Kvash used no Esquires, which was an oddity in the Knight races, but it was how they chose to fight. Where they couldn’t go themselves they would send drones, and in space Esquires were not needed save for boarding vessels…which could also be accomplished with drones.

  The Kvash weren’t the most impressive Knight race, and they knew it, but compared to all the major Factions in Star Force, they were on the varsity team while the Bsidd, Protovic, Calavari, Humans, Kiritas, Kiritak, and even the Varkemma were less capable on the whole. They might outnumber the Kvash, but they were not their equal in quality when it came to Naval combat or racial unity. Nor did they have Paul-024 continually tweaking their fleets with upgrades.

  Only the Clans outranked the Knight races, but the Clans were in even smaller number than the Kvash. They were the elite of the elite, and that wasn’t going to be good enough to win this war. There were too many Hadarak to kill, and for that task you needed armies, not highly skilled assassins.

  That’s what the Knight races were. Armies devoted to protecting the empire by going out and engaging the enemy on their turf, but first armies had to assemble, and in this system they were doing just that…along with many, many other systems around the entire perimeter of the Grand Border.

  Sheev’nora took a small step forward with his short, stubby, rock-like body making a small thud on the smooth floor when he did so. There were no chairs on the bridge, for the Kvash didn’t use them. When they rested they bent lower on their legs and became small columns…which was an advantage they had over the more mobile races who had to periodically rest their legs, while the Kvash never did.

  But right now Sheev’nora was looking out at the holograms of the nearby area, and his step forward was an involuntary one made out of sheer awe. The size of the Kvash fleet was breathtaking, but the clusters of other Knight races’ ships far beyond but still visible to the eye without enhancement was moving. He’d never seen so much power assembled in one place, and more was coming in from three different jumplines while one jumpline was seeing Tyranosaur ships leaving.

  “We assemble,” his navigator said, seeing the same sight, though in more detail given his instrument board. “And based on the spacing of the exiting ships, we’re traveling in dense formation.”

  Sheev’nora mentally altered a side hologram to take a closer look, confirming that the exiting Tyranosaur ships were jumping in alarmingly close
formation. Without precise timing they’d run into one another and destroy each other, but precise timing what was Naval fleets operated on, and every ship knew their own limits.

  “We are going into hostile territory, Numo. We cannot allow ourselves to be picked apart in transit, and the faster we obtain naval dominance the less damage we will take. A lengthy convoy is acceptable within our own territory, but we go to face a war unlike any that has been fought before, and we cannot do so casually.”

  “Update,” the comm officer said, throwing a holographic copy of their new orders in front of the Captain. “We have our target.”

  “Red 2991,” he said, seeing the route they were going to take to get there, indicating that those intermediary systems were expected to be pacified by the time the Kvash ships traveled through them. “With orbital defense growths.”

  “And an estimated 7 million ships, not counting their minions.”

  The Captain brought his two stubby hands up in front of his chest and pressed them together softly as he scanned the intelligence reports he was seeing for the first time.

  “Clan Kai’sa will be following us in, as will the Pterodactyls, but the primary assault is to be Kvash alone,” he said with a mix of pride and foreboding. “We are the hammer that must crush them in orbit, then the others will take the planets.”

  “That is why we weren’t sent ground assault ships,” another bridge crew member noted.

  “Yes. Ours is to be a truly naval war, which is our strong suit. Best that each of us fight where we are strongest when we chose the battleground. Red 2991 is ours. It is our first true test, for we will be going in heavily outnumbered. And I expect that to be the case in every assault thereafter. The easy days of training are over.”

  “They were never easy,” his second in command corrected.

  “And rightly so, to prepare us for this,” Sheev’nora said as his ship drifted along with the convoy towards their parking slot. He sifted through the updated orders and saw an expected departure date, which was contingent on the arrival time of all other fleets.

  “28 days,” he announced. “Then we move into the field. Enjoy the view until then, and prepare yourselves for a long, arduous war of attrition. Our wills must endure as well as our ships. Fatigue is not an option, nor is despair. What we face will appear impossible, but we’ve been taught how to fight the impossible. Accept the challenge before us and focus your attention on your small part in it. You cannot control the rest, so do not waste thought or emotion on it.”

  “Where do you suppose Paul is going?” the navigator asked.

  “Perhaps with Clan Saber, or maybe into the field in his Borg vessel alone. I do not know, but wherever he is, let him find pride in our combat scores afterward. He trained us well. Now it’s our responsibility to use that training.”

  “Still, I’d like to see what he and the other trailblazers have in store for the Hadarak. As big as a target ours is, there have got to be bigger ones in their sights.”

  “No doubt. To each his own, and while I will be interested in studying their battle records afterward, we won’t be hearing from them for years once we leave the comm grid behind. So trust in their power and wisdom to see them through. Our near future is in our own hands, and the hands of our fleet.”

  “Where do you think they’re going?” the navigator asked, bringing up the view of the departing Tyranosaur ships.

  “Clearing our way or enroute to their own major system, I would suspect. We don’t need to know. That’s for the Admirals and above. They do the organizing so we don’t have to. It feels disconcerting not knowing, but it’s better that we don’t. We’re going to have enough to deal with as it is.”

  “Entering the fog of war?”

  “Indeed we are. This is our last touch of civilization. Prepare to enter the wilds of the galaxy, and to make our new home in it. We cannot just visit, we have to persist and learn to dominate it. Carnage and destruction await us in the fog. May our honor and training guide us through…”

  Three weeks later…

  Mak’to’ran was vexed. He’d organized resupply of Essence and other material before he’d left V’kit’no’sat territory, and had been leaving Maty occasionally to pick it up outside the system…for it was too dangerous to bring the relief shipments in on their own. But he never had enough for the job before him, and he had to pick and choose his targets.

  His first had been one of the Hadarak ships spawning ground assault minions, and it had been a total kill…but the Hadarak had taken the pieces of it and stitched them back together, with it now operating at 12% capacity and continuing to flood the planet along with the others in an unending stream of attackers that the Elloquim were having to constantly destroy.

  The dead were already piled up into mountains of corpses, or the vaporized ash of corpses that was raining down over a third of the planet. And the naval situation above the planet was far worse, with 5 of the Elloquim having been destroyed in the constant bombardment. Mak’to’ran could not save them, so his fleet was trying to limit the pressure on the planet as much as they could…all the while receiving updated information from Maty. The PanNari were holding to their promise to share what they learned, even as the facility was breached and the ground battle was constantly in motion inside.

  Mak’to’ran had some of his troops down there, but getting more was problematic. The first insertion had cost him much, and the Hadarak were adamant on denying more assistance. Yet if Mak’to’ran wanted to use the necessary Essence, there was no place the Hadarak could deny him, yet right now destroying ships and stunting some of the reinforcement flow seemed to be the better use of his limited resources.

  Another warning lit up on his holos, indicating a strike at one of his formations across the system. A lurker had jumped another set of ships, and been destroyed in the process, but three of his warships were torn apart and a minion swarm was headed their way to finish off whatever survivors remained.

  The comm lag across the system meant he couldn’t intervene with orders, but his people knew what to do, and to their credit he saw drop pods emerging from the nearby warships immediately to evacuate the survivors as others moved ahead to engage the swarm early. They would not leave anyone behind if at all possible…nor would they stay to die with them. It was a delicate balance that Star Force had taught him well, and but these Lurker attacks on his small fleet groups were not stopping. Already they had suffered 28 of them, and with all the clutter in the system the Ghostbane sensors could not pick up the single Lurkers from far away. Everything was awash in energy that limited the range, and too often the Lurkers would Essence brake their way into a formation at high speed and disintegrate a target before they could raise their Essence shields if they were otherwise engaged.

  The Lurkers were the most frustrating unit the Hadarak had, and there were more here than Star Force had seen in the entire galaxy in the previous decade.

  If Mak’to’ran didn’t receive reinforcements this system would be lost. The PanNari were performing above all expectations with their limited Essence technology, and using conventional tech in ways Mak’to’ran hadn’t even fathomed. Their fiercesomeness was alarming, despite their being allies in this fight, but attrition was not on their side, and those on the planet had no means of escape. They were dug in permanently, with their only hope being a stemming of the enemy reinforcements arriving.

  But they weren’t. Mak’to’ran hoped to see a jumpline suddenly stop receiving Hadarak ships, indicating a fight on the other end, but no such fortunate was manifesting itself. He’d chosen a fight larger than he could finish, and he was forced to deal with partial victories and mitigation. Though if he hadn’t come, the PanNari would have already lost the Maty and their Elloquim. The latter of which might end up being more valuable than the former in this war.

  Mak’to’ran watched the updates coming in from the aftermath of the Lurker attack, then suddenly a Star Force signal came in from nowhere. It wasn’t a message,
but a sound. No, a song. And one that Mak’to’ran vaguely remembered.

  The computer identified it before the ID tag of the vessel transmitting it, because there was none. It was originating on an odd jumpline. A long jumpline, one so distant that few races in the galaxy had the engine capacity to travel it.

  But it was one that the Hadarak were not using, nor patrolling. And the source of the signal had penetrated all the way to mid stellar orbit, not too far away from the planet that held Maty, yet still well beyond the blockade.

  The ship’s computer immediately identified the song as one of the old school battle songs that the trailblazers were fond of using. This one was called ‘New Divide,’ and it was being blarred on a Star Force frequency from something, but Mak’to’ran couldn’t see an ID tag and it would take a long time for active sensors from his closest ships to get there and back again.

  Fortunately he didn’t have to wait too long, for less than a minute later hundreds of ID signatures suddenly turned on as one, with the Clan Saber warships spreading out like a firework in different directions as one big ship in the middle remained on a course towards the star and the swarms of ships in low orbit.

  It was a massive Borg vessel tagged as the Excalibur, Paul-024s flagship, but it wasn’t alone. Soon the incoming ships turned on their ID tags as well, with the trail leading all the way back out of the system, and along with Clan Saber ships came a second Borg vessel, the Megazord, then a third…and a fourth…and a fifth.

  Interspaced between them were more Clan Saber ships, making it clear there was more to come behind from the other Clans, but the trailblazers, as typical, wanted to come in first…and in fashion.