Barbarians

It's do or die!

Time to settle the score,

Gotta give it all you got and then you give it some more

There will be blood

You've gotta fight 'til you break,

Talk a lot of trash and step up to the plate

Rise!

Refuse to give in

Rise!

Ashes to dust

Rise!

Make 'em remember your name

Rise!

Cause in yourself you can trust

Five Finger Death Punch - “Back for More”

The journey to Gzuj had been uneventful, though that didn’t mean it had been easy. Other than the bare minimum of vessels necessary to continue hunting down and curing the Ronin, everything Earth and the Tetrarchy possessed that could fly had been commandeered for Operation Phalange. They had even put spare engines from the damaged Xairac Shipyards to use, using them to tow equipment necessary for the plan’s success. As the massive fleet arrived on the outskirts of the system, a smaller flotilla met them; what remained of the Khonhim Navy and Admiral Otxoa’s Task Force. In the history of the Orion Arm, going back almost twenty thousand years, there had never been a greater formation assembled.

Those most responsible for its creation hoped its like would never be needed again.

Fleet Admiral Matevosian, Dhyaksh Jiyazh Ghuuyaz, and Admiral Otxoa rigged a 3-way call from their respective bridges to make the final preparations. “We’ll need some time to integrate the fleets,” the formation commander explained, “but I don’t want to spend a single moment longer than necessary doing so. It’s time to end this, once and for all.”

“Agreed,” Jiyazh nodded. “Already we are seeing activity on Gzuj. The enemy knows you are here, Admiral, and they are preparing to meet us in battle.”

“I assumed as much,” Matevosian grimaced, “though I was hoping for more time before they spotted us. What do we know of their fleet’s composition? Any hints as to their planned strategy?”

“They have their ships mustered in a screen,” Otxoa informed him, “and they’re doing everything possible to keep us in the dark. I doubt we’ll learn their plans until the very last moment.”

“Whatever else they are, they aren’t fools,” the Fleet Admiral said. “Very well then. Get your ships in formation. The support vessels are busy disgorging their cargo, and once everything is in place...we make our run. Questions?”

There were none. “As you said, Admiral, it is time and past time to end this,” the Khonhim leader sneered, “and I look forward to seeing them expunged from existence.”

Admiral Otxoa cracked her knuckles. “Let’s do this,” she growled.

“Copy that,” Matevosian acknowledged. “Await my signal,” he informed them, before signing off.

When the word was finally given, the great fleet surged forward, moving as one. Speed was not their concern, keeping the formation intact was. In previous battles, formations had dissolved in the ensuing Furball...and the casualties had been staggering. Adapting 2-dimensional water navy tactics for 3-dimensional space battles had not been easy, but it was the enemy’s weaponry that had given them something to work with. A wall of ships bore down on Gzuj...and at long last the enemy came boiling up to meet them.

While the combined Tetrarchy/Khonhim Wall of Battle emphasized a rigid formation, the enemy swirled and roiled like a school of angry piranha. It moved as if it were a living thing, and as they came out to meet them, Matevosian waited. The timing was everything. They had one chance to get this right, and he refused to pull the trigger until the enemy committed itself. He knew first-hand just how effective their beam weapons were, and to what range they were effective.

And when they closed in, when he knew they were seconds away from opening fire, Matevosian gave the order.

“Full power to the Generators!”

A heartbeat later...hundreds of shields came online.

Twenty years prior, he had overseen another operation, Lacuna, where he had used the planetary shield to capture and hold the Khonhim fleet, buying the precious time needed to turn the tide. This time, however, the shields had a very different purpose. Instead of making bubbles, the generators spawned an impressive array of interlocking convex shields. For Lacuna, he had stripped a dozen worlds of their shields.

For Phalange...he had taken all of them.

Moments after they came online, the enemy opened fire. The blinding energy beams slammed into the shields, only to be deflected away. An inferno seemed to rage before the massive fleet, as white-hot rays were scattered in every direction. There would be no Furball this time, as the massive fleet introduced the enemy to the same tactic the Greeks had used to defeat Darius at Marathon, the one Alexander the Great had used to conquer the known world...the Phalanx.

The only weapon known to defeat the powerful shields was the Khonhim Breaker missile, which the enemy lacked. Unfortunately, that was only true when the shields were laced together in a sphere. That interconnectivity gave them their strength and resiliency...but now only portions of those shields faced the enemy. The powerful beams were being deflected, but at a cost. The massive generators were under an incredible strain, and under that withering fire, Matevosian had known they would fail.

Which is why he’d stacked the generators ten ranks deep across the wall’s face.

The enemy blinked. There was no other word to describe the change in their formation, for they had counted on their weapons to smash through once again. It was all opening they’d needed, as the Tetrarchy antimatter guns opened fire.

It hadn’t been easy, designing a shield wall that could both deflect incoming fire and yet allow outgoing weaponry to pass through. They had opted for a compromise, creating the equivalent of Arrow Slits between the shields. It wasn’t perfect, and some enemy beams found their way through...but at least it wasn’t the wholesale slaughter they’d suffered during their previous engagements.

The enemy seemed to roar in fury as they raced forward, seeking to smash their way through even as the Tetrarchy guns began extracting their deadly toll. The battle wasn’t one-sided; when the deadly beams found their way through the cracks friendly ships died. The antimatter guns ripped great gouts from the enemy fleet...until they realized at last that continuing to hammer at the shield wall was a death sentence.

A change of tactics was in order.

There was a reason the Phalanx had fallen into disuse...several of them, in fact. For one, its flanks were vulnerable. Something that size couldn’t change direction at the drop of a hat...so if an enemy could work its way around...

The machine fleet surged to the wall’s upper starboard corner, attempting to do just that. Corners are always the weakest point of a static formation, and if they could turn the Tetrarchy wall there, they could smash their way in.

Unfortunately for the machines...they’d been expecting that.

The leading edges of the formation dropped back into an echelon, staggering their positions as they pivoted outward. It wasn’t a perfect solution, as it increased the gaps between the shields, but it forced the enemy to fall even further back to strike at their vulnerable rear.

Right where the Khonhim vessels were waiting.

The Khonhim ships lacked the antimatter technology of the Tetrarchy, something that had cost them more than once. Their missiles had proven ineffective against the machines the first time around, being knocked out of the sky in droves by their powerful energy beams. They’d needed an edge, and they needed it now.

Enter Sandcaster.

The Sandcaster missile replaced the explosive warhead with one carrying metallic chaff. When fired the warhead would detonate early in its flight path, filling the nearby area with enough debris to degrade the beam weapons effectiveness, and in the vacuum of space, the chaff would continue to travel at the same velocity. Again, it wasn’t a perfect solution. They degraded targeting, which required the missiles to be fired in massive volleys, the Sandcaster’s detonating in a series as the missiles accelerated on their way to their targets. But as any musket-wielding army of old would tell you, you throw enough lead downrange and you’re bound to hit something.

The Khonhim were happy to do just that. They launched one barrage after another, swamping the enemy’s defenses. Tetrarchy fabricators had cranked out Sandcaster’s by the thousands, and they were proving to be just as effective as they’d hoped. Despite everything the machines threw at them the Phalanx held...until they decided they’d had enough.

The remaining enemy vessels turned tail and ran for safety, heading back the way they’d come to the orbit of Gzuj. The Tetrarchy forces came to a halt, taking up station just out of range from the enemy weapons as they extended the wall, forming a blockade. The machines pulled even further back, but this time the Tetrarchy held firm. It was time to recuperate and rearm, to lick their wounds and repair their vessels, and to mourn those lost.

But as Admiral Matevosian took stock of what they’d suffered, a thin smile appeared on his face. They’d weathered the first storm far better than he’d expected, but the Second Battle of Gzuj had been defensive.

The next battle, he feared, would be a bloody brawl.