Emergence: Chapter 61

With Keinam in the medical bay, and the communications down, Cinradahs felt alone in the battlefield. Since the Cloudships had begun an unrelenting attack on Empire, Adjeti and Corlen forces, the electricity in space, which he was sure shouldn't be happening, had wreaked havoc with the coms between ships; each was on its own. His internal communications within his flagship still operated, but they were filled with static.

Saiun thanked the gods that the Cloudships were slow, and thanked them again for the Corlens; without them, the Empire forces would have have had no chance. With them, they had hope. But as as another Warsphere was blown apart by a surge of lightning, he could feel the hope fading, ebbing away.

But there was nothing he could do.

“Keep firing!” Cinradahs yelled to the crew below the bridge. “Get all cannons blazing, we can take something out.”

Tarib hammered keys on his screen, relaying the order throughout the flagship. Mechanisms whirred and whined as the weapon systems sprung to life, raining fire down on the Cloudships below. Small explosions peppered the tops of the dome-like ships, but they kept coming. Bolts of electricity shot out, connecting with Adjeti Wing-Ships and Empire Peacemakers, tearing through them like a blade through flesh.

“Nothing's working sir!” Tarib looked to Cinradahs, as if he could help. “We're being slaughtered out there.”

Cinradahs sighed; he knew that their weapons would do nothing against ships formed entirely of gas. “We've just gotta hold on. Until the Orbans arrive, we have no chance.”

*

The medical droid finished welding Keinam's bones back together, leaving a strange warm pain in his side. “Thank you,” he muttered as the machine wheeled itself away again. Groaning, Keinam sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He sighed; he just didn't know what to do. His head was swimming from the painkillers, and he ached all over. He wouldn't be flying for a few hours at least.

Finally beaten.

The dominant thought that swam in his head was his one defeat in battle. Not even the Corlen Warspheres had taken him down before; these Cloudships were the toughest enemy he'd faced by a long way. He looked down at his hand, and gripped it with the other to stop it shaking. He stood shakily, the action pulling on his wound. Wincing, he walked over to the medical bay's viewport and stared at the carnage outside. His jaw dropped open as he watched the Cloudships decimate Empire forces, but he felt his chest clench every time a Wing-Ship was torn apart by the lightning bolts. The Wing-Ships' weapons did nothing, the Empire's weapons did nothing, and the Corlen Warspheres shattered just like the rest of the craft.

Maybe the Orbans can help.

Maybe.

*

Another flash blinded him, shattering a Peacemaker apart, and hurtling the remains towards Retlin. “Shit!” He slammed the control stick to the right, barrel-rolling out of the wreckage's way as a Warsphere shot past, clipping the side of his Wing-Ship, sending it into a violent spin. Swearing violently, he struggled to regain control of the ship, wrestling with the control stick until he brought it under submission. Breathing a sigh of relief, he watched the Warsphere as it sped towards the nearest Cloudship, opening up and breaking its spherical form, ready to smother it. Retlin's heart raced, rooting for the Warsphere as it drew closer and closer, expanding all the time. “Go on...” he muttered.

A bolt of lightning shot from the Cloudship, tearing straight through the Warsphere, shattering it entirely, the fragments blasting through other ships, either clipping their wings, or flying straight through them, annihilating them completely. The fragments that did not hit other ships joined the fellow Warspheres in a floating graveyard, leaving only more ruins and obstacles littering the battleground.

Retlin steered away from the Cloudships, back towards the flagship, narrowly dodging the wreckage of his comrades. He saw a few Adjeti floating alongside their craft, all sustaining injuries that would have killed them, even if they had been prepared for the suffocation of space. Retlin tensed, and his exoskeleton folded around him, covering his mouth and nose. The exoskeleton would protect him for any injuries in the ship's destruction, and the fact that it covered his mouth and nose meant that it would still provide oxygen for him, hopefully allowing him to survive the vacuum long enough for someone to rescue him.

He hoped.

*

Cinradahs paced along the bridge, head down facing the dull grey floor: he refused to look at the carnage outside. We're all dead. He wanted to run to flee, but he couldn't; there was no way to inform the other ships, he would just be...abandoning them. He sighed, and felt Saiun's ever-welcome hand on his shoulder. As a cold-blooded Quaren, Saiun's hand offered little in warmth, but it offered comfort and, just for a second, Cinradahs's mind went blank and he forgot his problems. But that didn't last.

He turned to Saiun and forced a half-smile. “Do you think we'll get out of this?”

Saiun looked down briefly, before looking up again. “If the Orbans get here, maybe.”

Cinradahs nodded. “Let's hope Keinam's idea works.”

“I don't see why not,” Saiun murmured, “the theory is sound.”

“You don't sound convinced.”

Saiun sighed. “The theory is sound,” he said with more conviction, “but I never thought I'd see the day where we were at war with a bunch of AI-controlled Xaosians, let alone a fleet of angry clouds.” He shook his head. “I can't trust what I think now. None of this is normal to me. Now to combat these murderous clouds, we're calling in a few telepathic near-extinct beings to deal with them, I have no idea if this will work, or what to think. I can only hope.”

“Four new ships in near proximity sir, coming out of L-Space now!” Tarib called.

Cinradahs felt his heart pace again.

The Orbans are here.

*

Standing in a Guardian warship, Strom, Ilisa, Sa'tui, and Ha'kuun entered the space around Narcsia and winced as they saw the battle outside. The images Cinradahs had sent them before the coms went down did no justice to the devastation Strom was witnessing. Ilisa, even after seeing the destruction of Raan, gasped in disbelief. This was a floating warzone, with floating ruins and floating casualties.

“What the fuck...” Ilisa whispered.

Ha'kuun looked down at her. “Silence. No distractions.”

Ilisa opened her mouth to protest, before she looked over at Strom, who shook his head slightly. “So, what do we do?” Strom asked.

Sa'tui pointed at the Cloudships. “We tear them apart, or push them back into Narcsia.” He pointed at two other Guardians materialising from L-Space. “The others will do the same when ready.”

Strom closed his eyes and wormed his consciousness through space, feeling the emptiness around his mind, the chill of the void, reminding him of the space above Raan. He shivered, before casting it aside; this was no time to be distracted. He reached out, ignoring the hard metal of the Empire and Adjeti ships, instead latching onto a texture he found unfamiliar. Soft and light, almost as though it wasn't completely real. Definitely not solid.

The Cloudships.

He could feel them spark and crackle just before they let loose their lightning, instantly shattering any smaller ships, or the Warspheres. Strom ignored the crackling and sparking and tightening his grip around the Cloudships.

And pushed.

He knew he was straining, he could hear himself, but it sounded far away. The Cloudships gave resistance in their urge to push forward, and Strom could sense confusion and panic from the gaseous beings within. Sweat poured down face even as he felt the other Orbans helping, pushing the Cloudships as hard as they could.

The Cloudships began to move slowly backwards to Narcsia.

*

Retlin turned back around for another run at the Cloudships. He knew it would be futile, but there was little else he could do. Placing one of the Cloudships, a smaller one, firmly in his sights, he sped towards it, ready to fire everything he had as his allies shattered around him. The lightning annihilated everything it touched, sending shards of ships spiralling into oblivion.

And then they paused.

No lightning sprang from the clouds, and they stopped moving forwards. Retlin looked around the battlefield and spied three Guardian-class warships on the edge of the battlefield. The Orbans! He stopped the ship and circled back towards the flagship: he wanted to see what the Orbans could do.

The Cloudships began to move backwards, as though being pushed by an invisible hand back towards Narcsia. He imagined that the creatures inside, whatever they were, squirming, trying to resist the awesome power of the Orbans, who were likely out of range. Retlin stopped the ship to watch the Cloudships. Some had disappeared into Narcsia's atmosphere again, but most were still resisting, being pushed only slightly.

And then the lightning began again.

The largest Cloudship sprouted bolts of electricity, lighting up the darkness for but a second. “Shit!” Retlin roared, steering away from a nearby bolt. His heart raced, hands shook: he'd been too complacent.

Another flash. Something hit his ship's engines, and he fell forward on the impact, before the ship began to whine. One of the engines had been taken out. He swore again, picking himself up and trying to manoeuvre away from anything else that could harm him.

Another flash, and he felt the heat of the bolt tear his ship apart, before he was sucked out into the vacuum of space, hands flailing wildly as he tried to cling onto something. He managed to grasp a control stick, but that was torn from its place and hurled out of the disintegrating craft with him. Sound stopped; he heard nothing but his thoughts, and yet he could see everything. He tried to calm himself, but could only take shallow breaths: the exoskeleton would provide, but only for so long. Waving his arms, he prayed that someone would spot him.

Before it was too late.

*

“They're lashing out sir,” Tarib reported, “but we've got the bastards!”

Cinradahs watched as the Cloudships, still taking potshots at the the other ships, were forced back towards Narcsia. “We haven't won yet. But we can at least regroup and live to fight another day.” He turned to another technician on the bridge, he didn't know his name. “We got enough readings from the Cloudships?”

He nodded. “We might be able to come up with a way to fight back next time.”

“Good.” Cinradahs smiled at Saiun, who grinned back. “Your hope paid off.”

“It did.”

Something came through the combat-com; the static was clearing. “Sir!”

Cinradahs picked it up. “Yes?”

“This is Ilisa. The Orbans are still pushing the last of the Cloudships, but they are mostly retreating of their own will now. We have won.”

“Good.” Cinradahs nodded to himself. “Just keep pushing until they're all gone.”

“Sir!” Tarib called. “The Corlens, they've just...stopped.”

Cinradahs looked outside; Tarib was right. The Corlens had stopped, motionless in space. “What are they doing?”

“No idea.” Ilisa's voice came over the com. “Almost like something's disturbing them.”

“But what?” Saiun asked. “You don't think they're going to attack, do you?”

Cinradahs shook his head. “No, I don't think so.”

They watched the stationary Warspheres for a moment longer, until they all began to move again, launching as one away from Narcsia and the flagships. “Stay on them!” Cinradahs yelled to the techies below.

“I'm on them!” Ilisa yelled through the com.

“They've departed Narcsian space.” Tarib pointed at his screen. “We can't track them.”

Cinradahs watched the radar and saw a small Liberator emerge from one of the Guardians; Ilisa was giving chase. “We've got a scout on them, and in contact. Let's head back to New Orbus and lick our wounds. We're fighting three enemies here; the Xaosians, the Corlens and these...clouds.”

Tarib nodded. “I'll give the retreat signal.”

“Good.” Cinradahs looked at Saiun. “Let's go.”

*

Retlin watched as the final Cloudship disappeared back into Narcsia's atmosphere, helpless. They had won for now, at least. Ships roared past as they headed back to the flagship, and Retlin flailed and danced wildly, trying to get someone's attention, to get someone to pick him up again. His breathing grew more ragged and shallow with panic and fear, and he couldn't calm himself back down again. He could feel the air running out now as he watched the ships leave for New Orbus.

He closed his eyes as a single tear ran down his cheek.