Space bent, then tore to disgorge great ships of shimmering metal, energy fields and menace. Ten, twenty, thirty; they poured out of the spatial rent, a wave of silver riding their momentum from hyperspace. Then the ships in the vanguard were shifting as gravity bending real space drives were activated and particle shielding reinforced before they began to move to the nearby planet, a dirty brown and blue ball that hung awkwardly in space.
‘And so it begins!’ Vice-Admiral Vit Barkada grimly thought as the shimmer of her flagship’s shielding washed over the bridge’s primary display before fading to clear. In regulation pearl gray, she was a lean, isolated figure that stood on the bridge’s elevated command dais, hands clasped behind her back as below her the crew worked with calculated chaos to prepare the Agganon Aggregate battle cruiser God’s Hammer for battle.
There the Hammer’s captain, a veteran of the Aggregate’s devastating Rim Wars, was issuing terse commands, insuring the powerful battle cruiser was positioned for maximum efficacy, her sensor pods sweeping space ahead of them. Thinking of the Rim Wars tightened Barkada’s expression, as they represented the single most destructive period experienced by the Aggregate.
Fought over a period of 150 years, the Aggregate had been forced to fend off wave after wave of invasion from no less than four separate species. They had succeeded, but at a horrible price. Millions had died, dozens of planets rendered uninhabitable. The fleet was here to make sure that never happened again.
“The enemy’s disposition, captain?” She asked in a quiet voice that reached every corner of the half-moon shaped bridge.
Looking up from her tactical officer’s station the captain faced Barkada just as the bridge’s main display showed the planet’s single satellite swinging into view from the far side, and into scanning range.
“We’ve detected activated defenses in place, admiral.” She reported in clipped, efficient words. “Dug in emplacements on the satellite and heavy orbital defenses, including weapon platforms and strike-kill rocket batteries. We’ll be within targeting range in ten tana.”
Barkada nodded, her expression softening to one of satisfaction.
“Compliments to navigation on an excellent traverse, captain.” She said, her hands coming out of the small of her back to reveal a long, pale white ceramic cylinder in her fingers. It was a sealed definitive order scrip, holding direct orders from the Silver Council. Their journey complete, she was now required to open it, and read what the Silver Council required of her command so far away from home. Before she could wrap her long fingers around the scrip’s seal, however, another voice spoke.
“With the traverse complete, our orders are clear, vice-admiral.” The quiet voice pointed out from a few paces behind her. Barkada barely resisted the impulse to draw her sidearm and shoot the speaker, the Hammer’s erstwhile resolution officer, in the face. Put on board to make sure the Silver Council’s will was enforced regardless of the situation, resolution officers were on every ship in the fleet. None, however, directly questioned their superior's every decision like this one did. And so, Barkada hated her.
Military her entire life, Barkada had served the Agganon Aggregate and its leaders, the Silver Council with honor. That service saw her rising to prominence during the Rim Wars, and the subsequent Vreesh’tak Rebellion, and granted a flag commission to her a full ten years before any other high command officer. And so Barkada was perfect for this mission, capable of commanding fleets and soldiers with precision and determination while far a-field. Judging by her attitude and discourse, however, the resolution officer didn’t share the admiral’s sense of accomplishment.
“We must attack immediately, . . .”
A gloved hand fell onto the hilt of her sidearm.
“I think you forget your place, nar Seeva.” The admiral had to fight not to snarl. “You are the Hammer's resolution officer, not her tactical officer. You have little authority to command our strategic deployment.”
If she was fazed by the admiral’s hard tone, Seeva didn’t show it as she stepped onto the dais and came to a halt beside the frowning flag officer. As usual, Seeva’s uniform, a flowing, unbroken sheath of fabric carefully wrapped around her body to form a cocoon both comfortable and yielding in battle, was immaculate. The clenched fist and thunderbolts of her position were also polished until they gleamed, positioned for maximum visibility on sleeve and collar. The much younger woman looked over at Barkada, her expression grave.
“And you have little authority to resist the will of the Silver Council, vice-admiral.” She replied in that same, soft voice she always used. The one that Barkada could swear held barely concealed mockery and contempt within the carefully measured words.
“You will begin your attack immediately. It is the will of the Council, . . .”
“I don’t need you to remind me of the Council's will, Seeva.” Barkada growled, flipping the holster restraint off her weapon and taking hold of its grip. The ceramic cylinder holding the actual will of the Council was forgotten in her other hand.
“I will give the order when I am good and ready,...”
“An interesting turn of phrase, child Barkada.” A third voice interjected, as soft as Seeva’s. Yet it was also as smooth and innocent as a newborn child’s. Barkada instantly turned to face the third person to climb up onto the dais.
“Speaker Drin.” She greeted the newcomer with reverence as she bowed her head, a fist over her heart in salute.
“You honor us with your presence.”
Dressed in the flowing blue wraps of her order, Speaker Drin’s hair was silver with age. Yet none of her many years showed on her flawless features, which, as always, were a picture of serenity. She smiled at Barkada’s greeting, which was copied, albeit significantly more slowly, by Seeva.
‘Child Barkada, Child Seeva.” Drin’s tone was mild, yet her eyes were piercing. “I thought we had this ‘disagreement’ between the two of you settled.”
Barkada made to open her mouth, then thought better of it. In love with the sound of her own voice, however, Seeva had no such hesitation.
“Speaker Drin, it is my duty to instruct,...” She began before Drin’s upraised hand silenced her. No one spoke when a representative of the Temporal Seers wished for silence, regardless of position, perceived or otherwise.
“Yes, we all know your duty, Child Seeva.” She drily informed the frowning resolution officer. “As we all know what Vice-Admiral Barkada’s duty is.” Those piercing eyes swung onto Barkada.
“I believe you were about to open the Silver Council’s orders, admiral.” Drin noted, with a slight emphasis on Barkada’s rank. Stifling a smile, Barkada gave the order cylinder a quick twist, freeing the seal before letting the crystal engraved with the orders slide into her hand. A quick scan over the intricate characters, engraved into the crystal’s face in a process known only to the Council to avoid forgery, was all she needed.
“Captain, fleet wide broadcast, if you would.” She said, strengthening her voice just enough to reach the Hammer’s captain.
“At once, admiral.” A gesture to the communications officer then the captain was looking back at Barkada.
“You are fleet wide, sir.” A soft ping in her ear confirmed the bridge’s omni-field had been re-tasked to carry her voice directly into the communication system. Then:
“Ships of the Aggregate Fleet.” Barkada began in a smooth, even voice. “The Temporal Seers have said: If What Was can be undone, then What Will be will Never Be. So we have come to destroy what was to prevent what will be, and have done so knowing we can never return home. Yet we take sanctuary in knowing we will make that home forever safe. The Council has commanded we attack, and attack we will. Vanguard, press to orbit, second wave squadrons move to flank and stand by to absorb the enemy’s defensive fire while we prepare to bombard. Carriers, prep for lander deployment.”
A wave of sound erupted from the communication station, signaling the fleet’s compliance.
A gesture directed a termination of fleet wide and another ping in her ear announced the omni-field’s dispersion. She then looked at Speaker Drin.
“It is done, honored speaker.” She formally announced, again putting fist over heart. Drin smiled beneficently.
“As the Seers did foresee.” She replied just as formally with a bow of her silver haired head. “Now, Vit, I will retire to my quarters. While I know the forthcoming violence is necessary, I cannot bear to witness it unfolding. Please, inform me when we’ve secured the planet’s surface.”
Barkada bowed her head in return.
“Of course, honored speaker. Rest well; the fleet will now see to the fulfillment of the Seers’ vision!”