436 Ragnar?k, Pt All of the fleets began to shift and weave as the fighting evolved. They all began to twist and spin and swirl around the center, with one of the de Jardin devastators right in the middle. It remained completely motionless as its internal port beacon was activated – the only way for them to get reinforcements now was through their ship’s gate.
Because it needed to remain still, the rest of the station’s defensive fleet flew in circles around it protectively. And flying around them in a wide circle were the Imperial and Federation fleets as well.
It was all like one giant typhoon, ever spinning, ever flying, ever destructive. Except instead of being made of wind and water and thunder, this was made of metal and fire and lightning.
Every ship fired ceaselessly at their enemies with every turret and emplacement they had. And every ship also received incredible amounts of damage as they received fire from their enemies’ turrets and emplacements.
Their armor plating and chitin were ripped apart and torn open and shattered to pieces with equal ferocity and fervor. There was no stopping the carnage and destruction, from the devastators all the way down to the support drones.
All were engaged in non stop combat.
Numerous large clouds filled with fighters and mecha and drones were engaged in all-out chaotic dogfighting. They swerved and spun and flew all around and in between the largest ships in the fleets, and shot furiously at every single enemy on their targeting lists.
Most were swept up in the dance of the battle itself.
All reason had been abandoned, along with any of their shame or guilt or apprehension or reluctance. The only thing they were left with was an overwhelming need to survive this battle, at all costs.
.....
High Admiral Pavir wiped the sweat from his brow as he and his officers adjusted their battle lines on their tacmap.
Their numbers had suffered far too many casualties, thanks to the ceaseless attacks from both the Empire and the Federation. Their enemies’ numbers allowed their ships to weave up and over and away from the front lines to repair, before they wove down and under and ahead to face the de Jardins anew. The tactic was incredibly simple, and yet incredibly effective.
Thankfully, the de Jardin’s losses were still far and few between. The strength of their armor simply proved to be a major advantage in the fight. But again, none would last too long against the constant barrage.
Pavir glanced at every fleet’s force count with nervous frequency. And every time even a single one of his ships were lost, his heart beat heavier and heavier.
—
Typhon Defense Fleet
Devastators: 4
Carriers: 13
Battleships: 25
Cruisers: 91
Destroyers: 254
Frigates: 505
Fighters: 881
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMecha: 1162
Drones: 2376
Turrets: 3005
–
Imperial Invaders
Devastators: 3
Carriers: 12
Battleships: 24
Cruisers: 88
Destroyers: 219
Frigates: 551
Fighters: 996
Mecha: 1200
Drones: 1968
–
Federation Invaders
Devastators: 9
Carriers: 20
Battleships: 51
Cruisers: 191
Destroyers: 471
Frigates: 929
Fighters: 2031
Mecha: 2278
Drones: 4539
—
Despite the losses the de Jardin fleet had taken, Pavir also knew that they had done their share of damage. In fact, thanks to the Federation’s relatively weaker armor, they were able to cause much more damage to them than to the Imperials.
Plus they had an incredibly tight defensive formation with their toughest ships protecting their most hard-hitting ships.
Most importantly, they had the assistance of Typhon station’s numerous orbital turrets. Close to a thousand of them had enough range and angle to fire into the massive cyclone flying high above. And they certainly did so ceaselessly.
They fired upwards into the invaders and seared their ships’ bottom armor plating with unrelenting viciousness.
Although each individual thermal beam did little by themselves, every turret synchronized with all the others around them. Many focused their fire on a single spot, which eroded the plating slowly but steadily. They burned gaping holes in the enemies’ armor until they reached the structure or exoframe beneath.
And even after they burned through, they simply kept on going.
Whatever softer metals that made the decking and passageways softened as they glowed an intense orange. Any circuits also melted down and fused into the housing all around them. Liquid circuits bubbled and boiled before they ultimately burst and broke.
Any crew caught anywhere close to the points of attack were themselves immolated. Flames swept across their bodies as waves of intense heat poured through them. They screamed in mortal pain as their skin and scales were completely consumed.
Other turrets aimed their beams at the various weak spots on the ships themselves.
Each one scored gouges into the thin armor plating around the softer targets over and over. They all ripped into the same spots repeatedly, and dug further and further in. And once they melted away the lightest parts of the armor, they focused themselves on the weaker components underneath. It didn’t take them long to turn countless thrusters and sensor clusters into glowing lumps of useless slag.
Though none killed any of the ships above them, they did their part by slowing them down and dulling their edges. It made the affected ships that much weaker when they faced the hardy de Jardin fleet.
Pavir grinned as he watched the station’s turrets outright cripple a few dozen Federation frigates to a standstill. Though they were far from priority targets, he was still incredibly grateful for every win he got no matter how small.
~
Floating above and just inside the outer edges of the vast, destructive hurricane were two devastators. One Imperial, the other Federation.
Like the de Jardin devastator in the very center of the swirling mass, these two were completely still. And more importantly, they too had their portable port beacons activated.
High Admiral Tarvanos sat at the command console in the very center of the Federation devastator’s bridge. Unlike the incredibly spacious and roomy bridges that the Empire employed, the Federations’ devastator bridges were almost uncomfortably tight.
By his sides were his immediate officers, each of whom were also seated at their consoles. All three were surrounded by screens and MFDs and control boards to the point that they were practically suffocated by them.
Just beyond them, all packed together in wide arcs were the numerous technicians, analysts, and tacticians. Each of them were also seated in their own cramped consoles, and had an array of screens and controls surrounding them.
Wrapping around the entire bridge from the front and the sides were five massive screens, all of which showed live feeds of the battle all around them.
The rest of the ship was equally as compact. Every module and system and decking and plating were arranged as tightly as possible, and with little room in between. Even passageways had been squeezed down to the absolute minimum, which made the entire ship itself highly claustrophobic.
It was as though every cubic millimeter of the ship had been utilized and accounted for. For all intents and purposes, this was the most efficient way to save space on any space faring vessel.
But High Admiral Tarvanos had long since come to the conclusion that the design was flawed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe grimaced and groaned as another alert came across one of his MFDs. It reported the loss of two carriers, somehow. Worse, whatever damage they did to the de Jardins was all but meaningless.
“We’re gettin’ annihilated out here!” he shouted out in complaint. “What in the nine hells is their armor made of? Why can’t we punch through it at all?!”
“Sir, their armor appears to be a semi-liquid metal sitting in layers between-,” began an analyst. But before she could continue, the High Admiral snapped at her.
“I don’t give a god’s damn what it’s made of,” he shrieked. “Just get me a solution that solves our problems!”
“Sir,” said another analyst. “We’re suffering extraneous damage from the station’s turrets below us. Nearly sixty of our frigates and three of our destroyers have been stalled for repairs. Numbers climbing.”
“Argh!”
Tarvanos just couldn’t take it. His losses were mounting far too quickly. Although he went into the battle with confidence, it drained out of him with every minute that passed.
What frustrated him the most was that one of his devastators was on the verge of defeat. It was practically sitting out there, soaking up more and more weapons fire. Damage reports on his fleet management MFD showed that it had suffered so much damage to its armor plating and combat systems that he already counted it a casualty.
Although he technically knew what he was up against, he didn’t think that they would be that lethal. Or that heavily protected.
Then again, an enemy fleet inside a datasheet was nothing like an enemy fleet within firing distance.
“What in the wild heavens are you doing?” said Swarmfather Delvath. His face sneered on the High Admiral’s comms display. “Stop attempting to do damage to the Hegemony ships – your guns can’t cut it! But my guns very obviously can.
.....
“Go defensive and soak up as many shots as your fleet can handle. Give me more time to crack through their defenses!”
“Oh, so what, the Federation suffers all the casualties here?” Tarvanos responded curtly. “I’m going to politely remind you what we’re both here for – joint control of this station. We can’t do that if my fleet’s neutralized!”
“You apes are always so full of worry. How could I forget such a pact? All the more reason to do as I say. Mine is the only strategy that’ll win here.”
“It’s only because you lizards are always so full of deceit. But fine – we’ll go by what the Empire suggests. Until an advantageous opportunity appears, of course.”
Tarvanos then minimized the swarmfather’s comms window and pulled up all of his officers in his place.
“Reinforce all bulkheads, double up the fleet’s belt armor,” he began. “Remove all overcharge levels from every weapon system and instead apply them to our defensive systems. Prioritize rapid repair. Do whatever it takes to make our ships invulnerable.”
“What about our guns, sir? Do we fold them in? Or do we keep firing anyway?” asked one of his admirals.
“We keep firing them, but at minimal power. Instead of aiming them at the enemy fleet, we aim them downward, at the station’s turrets below. And take careful aim! We don’t wanna damage the station itself. Otherwise, fire at will.”
“Yessir!”
Outside, the nine Federation devastators inched their way closer towards the combat line and squeezed the defending fleet at the same time. While they did so, they transferred all excess energies to their armor plating and absorbed as much incoming fire as they possibly could.
It certainly worked – de Jardin plasma lances didn’t quite rip into their armor as fast as usual. And even better, the repair nanites quickly repaired any titanium blasted away by the plasma.
And as ordered, they turned their numerous weapon systems downward. Each one aimed squarely at the comparatively more fragile turrets thousands of meters below them, then fired.
Streams of chaingun rounds, heavy cannon slugs, rail shots, missiles, and rockets flew downwards like a torrential rainstorm. Each of them converged down towards hundreds of defensive turrets, and slammed right into them.
The chaingun rounds left countless dents across the thin armor plating as the slugs wrenched them open outright. Rail slugs dug through easily and embedded themselves in the machinery below. Meanwhile, the missiles and rockets detonated around the barrels and bent and broke and wrenched them from all sides.
And then, the space just above the de Jardin devastator in the very center glowed brightly as another fleet ported in.