CHAPTER 017: Routed

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Elysium System

Long War

18 April 2547, 20:03

What saved our lives was pure, dumb luck. Even the Archenemy ‘technology’ (that seemed to transcend science - is it even technology at this point?) had its own limits. Shooting things from one hundred twenty-eight million kilometres? Even if you have an impossible superlaser that can somehow shoot with FTL speed, there are still limits. Limits that even I could understand.

The biggest one was accuracy.

You are shooting blindly at this distance. One hundred twenty-eight million kilometres is about seven light minutes. They could only see where we were seven minutes ago. And even then, the laser had to travel for at least two minutes(according to our later estimates).

But we weren’t moving. The tactic of evasion we used against the first Numbers’ fleet came back to bite us in the ass. Only because of that the Baphomet could hit us without frigates relaying our position to them.

But even then, hitting a target was no easy feat. One hundred twenty-eight million kilometres of distance - and the target was merely a hundred meters long. And it’s not like there is nothing influencing the ray. There was the gravity of the star (with minuscule instabilities caused by the Dyson Sphere). Even the nearby massive wreckage field could contribute.

It all bent the laser ray in a tiny way. But enough for it to narrowly miss, its edge passing the Cutlass by a few metres.

Even then, half of the frigate’s left side instantly melted. The combination of a sudden change of solid matter into gas (at its dispersion) and depressurization threw the ships away. Everyone was thrown around the deck.

The captain’s seat saved me. But the others? Well, not pretty. Judging from the way the tactical officer’s neck was bent, he won’t be of use anymore. Einstein must have died, because she suddenly appeared in front of me, with an expression full of shock on her face. Makes me wonder how many people died on the ship.

“Nymphae!” I shouted.

And then we made a phaseshift jump.

***

???

???

???

Once again the world paused. But this time something wasn’t right.

I could move. Barely. I felt as if an invisible chain bound me. Everything around me was still frozen. I could see the tactical officer’s body covered in hoarfrost.

Shit, it’s cold! So damn cold! I’m freezing here! What the hell’s going on!

I kinda expected Nymphae to answer me. But her avatar was frozen solid.

What now?

“Interesting.” I wasn’t alone. Only after he (it?) spoke I noticed that fact. There was a person standing by the wall of the bridge. Unfazed by the frozen still chaos. Tall, almost too tall. Slender. Wore an elegant, old-school suit. His face… I couldn’t see it. It was… blurred. “A fledgling Awakened. Right here. Right now. The nerve.” The thing hissed.

It was bad news. I absolutely knew that.

The voice was… distorted. Like a machine generated it.

“Wh… who are you?” It was still freezing, but something in me got used to that. I could move better. I could even talk now.

It disappeared. A second later it appeared again. Standing in front of the captain’s seat. Right before the now frozen sensor feed, with the entire Elysium system laid bare.

“Names. I had many names. Hundreds of names. Thousands of names. Hundreds of thousands of names.” It made an audible sigh. “But I really like my latest one.”

I knew what it would say, even before the words left its mouth.

“The Precursors’ called me ‘the Archenemy’.” It chuckled, almost cheerfully... but it was also terrifying.

Alright, so the Archenemy IS still around. In person. With at least a single battlecruiser that could probably massacre an entire ‘modern’ fleet. Heck, it probably DID massacre an entire ‘modern’ fleet.

The Corporation probably didn’t expect the enemy ship to fire at them from a distance a hundred times longer than their maximum weapon’s range. So they were parked in orbit, doing things and planning the incoming engagement… and then, suddenly, bam.

“When they knew they were done for, they tried a different approach.” It continued to speak. “One hundred worlds they seeded with life, making me unable to lay my hands by rules and laws your scientists didn’t even dream about. 99 of them fell into my hands. The last one was almost ripe for the taking… but then you come.”

It’s angry. It’s angry. It’s angry.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. The outcome will be the same. A bit of entertainment to me. A long, painful and torturous death to them.” It said this so casually… “How about helping me? You could get Einstein, even the inquisitor as your playthings. I’m generous to my servants.”

Wh…

“Nnno way!” I blurted out, without thinking.

It chuckled.

“Really? Morals? From you? A broken person from a broken world. So starved for new stimuli that you were overjoyed when the game had a different, while painful, way of showing brain damage?”

Wh… it knows it’s a game? It speaks of it to players? And… does it know anything about my life?!

“Struggle as much as you like.” It shrugged. “I’ll still get all of you. It’s inevitable. But, if you know that it’s coming, you’ll struggle even more and that will make breaking you even more enjoyable.”

I think it smiled. Fuck, I think it smiled!

“Well, I’ll even give you some time! Originally, the fleet was supposed to wipe out all traces of intelligent life right now, but… two weeks. I’ll stay in Elysium for two weeks. Get ready to meet me properly. By that time, you might actually try to put up a resistance.

It walked sideways, the sudden wave of cold freezing me again. I noticed that there was something unnatural in how the… thing walked.

Right before it disappeared from my view I figured it out. Knees. It walked like it lacked knees. I had no idea what it meant, but I also had no idea what was happening here for a long while.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” It suddenly reappeared right beside Einstein. “We wouldn’t want a prophecy to end unfulfilled, right?” What?

Then it made a ‘pistol’ from its finger. And made a shooting gesture at Einstein’s head, before chuckling.

Second later the time resumed.

“We’re out!” Nymphae almost shouted in my ear. “We’re entering the Hypergate immediately, but…”

“Move the ship however you please.” We really don’t have time for that. And the crew is mostly incapacitated. “Listen, I have a question. Is there something living in the Hyperspace?”

“Hmm? Define living.” The ship turned towards the Hypergate. This time we gained distance from the fleet (I don’t want to think about them visiting Pontifex, at least not now), so we could safely jump before another salvo reached us. “There are things that…”

That’s when I understood that something was wrong with Einstein. She wasn’t moving, just standing there. With her back towards me.

Half a second later my fears were confirmed, when she turned around while drawing her pistol.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t a hardened commando. Avran would probably disarm her instantly (and that’s without considering his magic). I, instead, looked at her - paralysed by a surprise - when she opened fire.

Nobody else noticed her before she opened fire. Out of seven people being on the bridge when the Cutlass was grazed by the Archenemy’ energy weapons, one was dead, two were unconscious, and the rest was still in shock

Commander Vinvaral was the first one to get hit - and I doubt that the local medical system can fix a person whose head was practically blown into pieces. The navigational officer was the second one - he was close to Einstein and woke up from the stupor fast enough to draw his pistol.

She wasn’t targeting me - I still wore the battle armour, so chances for her to kill me were nil, even from such a close distance. But the others were a fair game.

That gave me enough time to break myself out of stupor and act. I leapt forward, crossing the distance almost instantly.

I also had enough raw strength to disarm her almost immediately. Almost - she still had time to try shooting me (point blank) three times, before I grabbed her hand.

And I still broke her arm.

“Stop struggling!” Well, like it would work. Nymphae, any idea how to make her uncon… Fuck that, I’ll just kill her, she will resurrect in the same place. Perhaps normal. If not, I’ll keep doing it until the debuffs disarm her for real.

I was about to break her neck… when her head suddenly exploded. Wh…

POSSESSOR

From all beings serving the Archenemy, that one is the weakest - and one of the most terrifying.

While it completely lacks any means of direct attack, it can hijack bodies. As long as it’s alive, it can be taken over by the Possessor and used - in most cases to kill everyone around it.

A small, black dot. Maybe 30cm in diameter. It jumped away from the now headless body of Einstein and morphed mid-flight into something resembling a spider. Then it burst forward, charging towards the understandably panicked officer in charge of life support systems.

He screamed and fled. Can’t blame him. I tried to shoot at the possessor, but it was evading my shots with crazy speed.

Finally, it made its last jump, targeting the enviro officer’s head. Right before it got him, the possessor hit an invisible wall.

Wh… Avran. Now that I think about it, Nymphae was silent since it started so she probably went to call reinforcements.

“What the fuck is that thing?!” Looks like I’m not the only one feeling lost.

Possessor jumped away from the wall (and the enviro officer hid behind Avran, his panic now contained and weapons drawn) and hide behind a computer console.

“I don’t fucking now! Stop it in place so I can shoot it!” King would probably snipe it without problems, BUT HE IS NOT FUCKING HERE.

Einstein materialized again, dropping onto her knees. On her face, a look of anguish. Looks like possession is over, but I can’t expect any help from her.

“I have another idea.” Wh… then Avran makes a vertical movement with his hand.

Suddenly, about half of the room - now devoid of living beings with the exception of Possessor hiding from our shots - was set aflame.

Right, stuff here is fireproof. Unlike (hopefully) the thing.

***

TCS Cutlass/Hyperspace Corridor

Long War

18 April 2547, 20:34

We started the trip with 52 crew members and soldiers. The Overseers, the Archenemy superlaser and the possessor’s rampage whittled the number down to 34. And about ⅓ of that suffered wounds, ranging from bruises to broken spinal cord (which, according to Nymphae, could be fixed by modern healthcare, though it would not be quick).

Also, the Cutlass itself lost its left side thruster, ⅓ of its artillery, and a significant part of shield generators (that we didn’t even use during the mission). It was a wreck, honestly. And we lacked the ability to repair it. At least it was in good enough shape to bring us back.

Einstein was out of the picture for a long while. Judging from the occasional blabber that came from her mouth, being possessed by the Possessor wasn’t pleasant. More like unbelievably terrible. Shalyn only got bruises. Avran was pissed beyond measure for losing half of his squad. We lost one commander that was supposed to command a frigate - and one that was supposedly much more politically acceptable to the Choir’s government than the other. Also, a tactical officer and navigational officer trainees.

It was during the cleanup I understood the whole part about prophecy. During the first phaseshift jump, I saw Einstein’s head splitting apart and something looking at me. With Hyperspace being a source of at least some time weirdness, being able to catch a glimpse of the future was actually understandable.

We were already sidelining science. We could as well go all out.

I called a meeting. Me, King, Nymphae, Shalyn and Avran. I still couldn’t believe that both our Chosen Hero and the inquisitor know about our AI. We’re terrible at keeping that secret.

I was describing the ‘vision’ I had during the jump. Everyone was obviously terrified by the fact that the Archenemy was still around. Doubly so, when I said that its plan was to ‘visit’ the Pontifex System.

Triply so when I mentioned the lack of knees, distorted face and ability to instantly make Einstein possessed by… something.

For a second I thought Shalyn got a heart attack. Even Avran looked like he saw a ghost.

“Ehm… what is it?” Shalyn shook her head.

“It’s… not something to talk about now. I need to check a few things. A lot, actually. And most in Choir’s libraries. After we return to base, I’ll spend time there. For now… listen, whatever will happen, tell no one from Choir about this… being. If you do… then it’s possible we won’t even be around as a country when the Archenemy comes to visit.”

What?!

“You can’t be serious, it can’t be…” Avran participated.

“And do you have any other idea?” This shot him down. Which was actually terrifying since I couldn’t imagine something capable of making him shut up like that. “I’ll tell the Voice. So not a word to him, either. Also, we must… make changes to the story.”

What?

***

Var Or’kas

St. Ylvael’s Palace/Holy City of Kratha/Pontifex A-3

Long War

19 April 2547, 05:12

It was close to noon in Kratha. Beautiful city, especially the inner, more ‘representative’ districts that served as headquarters of the Choir - or, to be precise, the religious organization that during the Great War expanded into a superpower.

Though we still moved the Choir-country government here. Made things easier.

I already finished the morning mass - one of many religious ‘innovations’ I added when the war with Ikhvir started, hoping to pray our way into victory. It was mandatory for the most important people of Choir. Members of the highest echelons of the army, Inquisition, and civilian government. Also cardinals and pontiffs.

I always stressed our newest defeats and occasional disasters on the front. It might be hard to feel that in Kratha, but we were fighting a war. And we were losing it. My constant, public nagging was useful in reminding them of that.

I was reading documents and reports in my quarters in the St. Ylvael’s Palace - an official residence of Voices ever since the Great War - when Vitael came. Officially, he was my servant - for years now. Unofficially, he was a former Chosen, trustworthy and useful when one had to work with… sensitive information.

“Your holiness, an urgent report from the Yataghan and the Sword.” I can’t think of anything good that would require urgency in the current situation. “The Cutlass is returning. And it’s heavily damaged.”

Wonderful. I hope Shalyn’s alright.

“Well, we’ll wait until the ship returns.” No reason to hurry anything up. ”Tell the ships to observe the Gate they return from. If they see any movement, we immediately go into WARPREP Red.”

He nodded and immediately hurried out.

Now, we wait.

***

Adam Rytman

War Council Room/Pontifex A-3

Long War

19 April 2547, 21:10

First thing I did after returning to the planetary orbit was to give an extended shore leave to pretty much everyone from the Cutlass crew that didn’t suffer debilitating injuries. And even those that suffered injuries on the level of spinal cord being broken were sent to a hospital in Fort Khrystal. They already had next gen stuff - even if little of it - so they could at least have practice.

Einstein was still in shock. And Avran suddenly went very, very silent. Even fearful. Damn, I’m so happy this isn’t the real world (despite its previously unheard level of details and realism), because if even Avran acts like that, the the situation is bad. Shalyn postponed her raid on libraries for a day to help me with the upcoming meeting.

I managed to more or less figure out what it was about. I bet the Archenemy is a part of the Choir’s theology. Maybe not the one that’s widely accepted. If there were ancient tales mentioning the Ockham’s Razor, then it was almost sure that at least a few of the Precursors’ managed to hide among the planet’s population around the time they seeded the planet with intelligent life.

I have no idea why the Archenemy didn’t scour the planet right after it wiped out the last Precursors’ stronghold in Elysium. The Archenemy was cryptic about that. Said something about ‘laws’ that denied him the spoils. Maybe Shalyn will find out something. It’s ultra-advanced technology masquerading as magic, so maybe the specialists from magic will figure out something.

The need to rewrite part of theology to include the part that one of their ‘demons’ was some murderous aliens or a weird hyperspatial being with an omnicidal streak would not be nice, especially in the middle of a war. With an option for the war to be expanded into a total war.

In the meantime, I was REALLY happy that she stayed for a while. She was useful.

The Voice had ‘kindly’ invited me for a War Council meeting - where I was supposed to report what exactly happened in Elysium. A written report was one thing, having someone to ask about details or explanations (or accuse of things) was something else.

Not surprising, as at least theoretically I was a head of the Choir Space Navy. It wasn’t until Shalyn told me that - at least according to the associated paperwork - I was a Rear Admiral. With an advance to Viceadmiral or even full Admiral after the navy I command grows big enough.

Nymphae knew. But I was pretty surprised when Shalyn told me that. Doubly so, when Nymphae’s participation become apparent and Shalyn gave me a rear admiral uniform of a Choir Space Navy - which was pretty much a seabound Choir Navy uniform with different colouring.

Made with the same technology as standard suits of the Corporation. I could walk outside of Cutlass in it if I wanted. Its looks were modified for additional bling just like the battle armours often are.

Through some weird coincidence - or perhaps an influence of Precursors’, though I found it unlikely - it looked very similar to early 21st century US Navy uniform. Only I really lacked all those badges, orders or whatnot on the chest that made them look nice (no idea how they are called, I know literally nothing about stuff like that). And the colour was different - the sea navy used blue, the Space Navy had (for now) a much darker shade of blue.

Despite the uniform fitting me perfectly I still felt like I was wearing clothing of my elder brother (not like I had any). Or father. And I was supposed to talk to a big group of people. Most of whom were generals and admirals. It took Shalyn an hour of convincing to make me go.

She had a point. All the people I was supposed to meet knew of my ‘circumstances’. They weren’t exactly expecting me to fit in perfectly - they wanted somebody to answer their questions. And, as Shalyn pointed out, if a person from a different world suddenly fit too much, they’d probably get worried if my background wasn’t fake and I wasn’t a spy from somewhere (most likely from outside of the world - if any other power within it could fly around the system, the Choir would be wiped out without resorting to such plots).

She wished me good luck (right after she once again reminded me of the plan). And then I walked into the War Council room.

***

War Council Room/Pontifex A-3

Long War

19 April 2547, 23:43

Everything went better than expected.

I was absolutely scared stiff when I entered. A whole room filled with people wearing uniforms (the only person that wasn’t from the military was the Voice). And me, a person that really felt out of place.

In past games, you could easily assume that everything would go ok unless you really go full idiot. They were rather… simple. The Long War? Not so much. Quite the opposite. It reminded me so much of a real world I felt like I was there. And I felt exactly how I’d feel having to talk to a crowd of people (especially so influential).

I’d made a decision to whip myself into shape. The chance of actually becoming someone fitting the uniform was pretty meek, then again I’ve been running a bit recently, so… there was a precedence.

I had to lie to them. Only after doing so I understood that Shalyn used me - with good intentions, sure, but still. She, as a niece of a Voice, couldn’t lie publically. Especially in such a situation and with the source of authority of the Voice being religion.

But not lying (a bit, with much more half-truths) would probably spell doom for an entire planet. Hard choice.

The ‘official’ version was that we ran into Numbers’ that were preparing for an assault on the Pontifex System. The Archenemy pretty openly said it was already a case, and we made it clearer. Rather than basing an entire theory on words of a weird, omnicidal hyperspatial being (that locals would probably equate with a demon - and they weren’t trustworthy people), I claimed that we found data on it on the main computer of Ockham’s Razor.

The discovery of the Razor was enough of a shock.

They weren’t happy about the attack. Especially when I told them about the chances.

Defending a planet against an assault from space without functioning earth-to-space weaponry and particle shielding technology has exactly 0% success rate. Without shields to defend your population centres, fortresses and weapon systems from orbital artillery sniping, how could you hope to protect yourself?

That’s meaningless if the attackers didn’t want to conquer the planet. No amount of shields can stop nuclear warheads or anything of equal firepower - in the atmosphere, they are especially useful against them. But dropping nuclear bombs on everything doesn’t help you in settling the planet later on. A single dreadnought with its crew in a genocidal mood can easily wipe out the entire population. An especially patient heavy cruiser with few transport ships bringing ammo can achieve the same.

The Archenemy looks genocidal enough. Regardless of everything, it’s a 50% chance they want to bombard the planet until it’s left barren and with toxic remains of an atmosphere. With the other 50% - with the Archenemy wanting to do the killing more personally - the planet might hold for a short while, but the casualties will be beyond terrible, with major population centers being a prime target of initial orbital bombardment, done to soften the defenders. Regardless, an army mobilization would be in order - hopefully, it won’t push the Hegemony and Empire into attacking.

Regardless of the situation, we still had to do something about the fleet. I had no idea what to do against the Baphomet. But together with Nymphae, we’ve made a few contingency plans against incoming fleets we had no chance against in conventional warfare. Mostly as a thought exercise and training, but it looks like we'll use them after all.

Out of them all, one gave us a chance. Plan codenamed RED. There was a massive base of the Corporation on the dark side of one of Diamond’s moons. Up to a hundred thousand personnel. Everyone dead now, the Archenemy wiped them out right after dealing with the fleet.

But there was something there. Something that could save us. The Corporation did not use it in time, or at least we hoped that it was the case. If they used it already, and it didn’t work…

Well, we must make a bet. And it will require a joint attempt with the Choir army. We have two weeks to prevent the armageddon.