Post by Brutus Aurelius on Aug 20, 2019 20:37:21 GMT -5
A klaxon blared throughout the ship, breaking the usual routines and patterns the crew had fallen into. On the bridge, scanners cried out, their displays showing a warped and distorted form in the distance. The chill of the void seemed to have soaked through the hull, penetrating the bones of everyone who saw the writhing shape on their screens.
The gunnery crews adjusted their solutions, tweaking the inputs as the enemy drew closer, before the order of “Fire torpedoes!” crossed the Captain’s lips. In the bow of the ship, twin stasis fields crackled as the machinery moved them into alignment with the void field, before they collapsed, and the torpedoes were flung into the night. The twin streaks of flame vanish into the darkness as they skip into and out of the Hyperwarp, bypassing the armored hull of that terror of the Void and detonating within the semi-organic hull of the enemy. Another twin strike is loosed as the Xeno ship returns fire, with its own strange analogs of torpedoes, piercing the armored hull and damaging the internal structure of the ship.
The Engine burned harder as the bridge crew plotted an approach vector, a spiraling, zig zagging course that tried to keep them out of the enemy firing arcs. The crew dogs fed more fuel into the core of the ship’s great heart, as saving fuel was no longer a concern. Creaks and groans vibrated through the superstructure of the ship as the water-fuel was consumed by the fiery reaction that give the ship life.
Klaxons blared as explosions began to rip away at the superstructure of the ship. Xeno torpedo-analogues struck repeatedly, despite the best efforts of the bridge crew to plot evasive vectors. Some compartments caught on fire while others were damaged by the explosions themselves. Distant thumps echoed as the heavy railgun spun up and launched high velocity rounds at the semi-organic warship.
They weren’t quiet for long, as the hull shuddered with more impacts and the groans of the superstructure as it fought to maintain its stability in the face of the onslaught. Silent alarms flittered their way to the bridge, as nerves bring reports of pain to the brain. Radiation leaked through damaged sections of the hull shielding, the invisible flame taking its toll on the spacers as much as the visible flames. Emergency bulkheads slammed shut in the areas most saturated with radiation, dooming a few crew members to be burned away from within.
Other sections of the ship, by luck or the design of the shipwrights, had fared better. Capacitors discharged with thundering crackles to propel duranium slugs at mind boggling velocities. Sensors reach out to probe the enemy for weakness, for openings to exploit and strengths to avoid. Armor sloughed off in scorched ribbons of rapidly cooling metal as the enemy’s living plasma cannons spat forth gouts of searing brightness and death. Crew grimly did their work as if their lives depended on it, for they did.
The ship closed range as the Xeno ship, like a frenzied predator that smells blood in the water did the same. The beasts within, if they could even be aware of what was happening, would be slavering over the opportunity to flood over and within the ship, despite the ease of which the living nightmare could swat down human vessels. More gouts of plasma and semi-organic projectiles spilled out of the void predator in its attempts to rend the hull of its prey. By the grace of Shalun, the navigators and pilots had managed to chart a safe path through the deadly storm of weapons-fire, at least for now. Their own gunners answered in kind, firing the railgun and the twin autocannons while the Lance array spun up to do its deadly work.
The Captain knew a deciding blow was needed now, before the enemy bled her people to death. She pushed her orders through to the gunners. It was risky, but it could end the fight right now. If it failed, at least they gave it their best shot.
Her XO only gave a short glance as the order was pushed out but did not speak against the Captain’s order. If there was any doubt, it was masterfully hidden from their face. The order, possibly her last, was relayed at the speed of electricity, delayed only slightly by necessary reroutes around damaged network nodes. The Void Engine stopped venting plasma, allowing the ship to coast on inertia. The high pitched whine of the weapon capacitor banks grew to a fever pitch, to the point where the air itself seemed as deadly as a live wire. Alerts warning against increased pressure and temperature as the waste plasma built up in the containment field. Three gunners lined up their solutions, checking and rechecking as they painted the enemy ship with ionized lasers, overlapping their areas of effect for maximum cascading damage. Three corresponding irises in the battle-scarred prow of the ship opened wide, as if the ship now sported three gaping maws. Alerts from the engineering systems had begun flashing more insistently as they reported dangerous redlining. And when the moment was right at the cusp of no-return, the firing order was given.
As if propelled by a great heaving spasm, the built up plasma surged forth along a newly opened set of vents, opposite of its normal path. The capacitors whined and crackled before discharging with a crackle of thunder. The targeting beams held steady, guiding lights in the darkness of the void, and the plasma followed the seductive call of an opposing electrical charge as it rushed forth from the open irises. Crackling lighting followed as well, and so three separate walls of intertwined percussive force, flaming deluge and barely constrained thunderbolts lanced at the enemy ship. As they did so, all light and power from the attacker ceased under the strain that this last violent spasm required.
When the sensors finally gave a read of the enemy, there was a whooping cheer from the bridge crew as they saw that their enemy lie dead by their hand and the grace of Shalun, the alien hull shattered and lifeless.
“By the tomb of the Prophet…”, one of the navigators whispered, a terrified shudder rocking his words.
The Xeno ship burned hard and fast for them, rapidly closing into the range where the terrible and strange weapons of that dread vessel would be within striking distance. The sensor suite returned error after error as the computer tried to make sense of the rapidly fluctuating radiation and shifting organic mass of the hull. The gunnery crews prepared firing solutions and warmed the guns, while the soldiers and combat crew scrambled to prepare their weapons from the armory.
Plasma flared, a bright spark in the darkness of the Void, as the Engine rumbled while the crew pushed it to top speed, cruising towards the abomination as it mirrored them. The beast’s implacable pace driven by the xenoform’s mysterious propulsion system, which rippled space-time and left a strange band of radiation as it passed.
The Engine burned harder as the bridge crew plotted an approach vector, a spiraling, zig zagging course that tried to keep them out of the enemy firing arcs. The crew dogs fed more fuel into the core of the ship’s great heart, as saving fuel was no longer a concern. Creaks and groans vibrated through the superstructure of the ship as the water-fuel was consumed by the fiery reaction that give the ship life.
Klaxons blared as explosions began to rip away at the superstructure of the ship. Xeno torpedo-analogues struck repeatedly, despite the best efforts of the bridge crew to plot evasive vectors. Some compartments caught on fire while others were damaged by the explosions themselves. Distant thumps echoed as the heavy railgun spun up and launched high velocity rounds at the semi-organic warship.
Back on the bridge, the Captain spat orders and her loyal crew routed them through the crackling nerves of the ship to the duty stations and crew who would carry out the orders. Down a deck, the medical bay was nearly full with the casualties who had been heavily wounded by the torpedoes. Those with lesser injuries had patched themselves up as best as possible with scattered medical kits and resumed their work at their stations. The klaxons, a moment before louder than anything, had quieted as the fires were put out and precious oxygen was no longer consumed by the voracious flames.
Other sections of the ship, by luck or the design of the shipwrights, had fared better. Capacitors discharged with thundering crackles to propel duranium slugs at mind boggling velocities. Sensors reach out to probe the enemy for weakness, for openings to exploit and strengths to avoid. Armor sloughed off in scorched ribbons of rapidly cooling metal as the enemy’s living plasma cannons spat forth gouts of searing brightness and death. Crew grimly did their work as if their lives depended on it, for they did.
The ship closed range as the Xeno ship, like a frenzied predator that smells blood in the water did the same. The beasts within, if they could even be aware of what was happening, would be slavering over the opportunity to flood over and within the ship, despite the ease of which the living nightmare could swat down human vessels. More gouts of plasma and semi-organic projectiles spilled out of the void predator in its attempts to rend the hull of its prey. By the grace of Shalun, the navigators and pilots had managed to chart a safe path through the deadly storm of weapons-fire, at least for now. Their own gunners answered in kind, firing the railgun and the twin autocannons while the Lance array spun up to do its deadly work.
The two ships closed to knife fighting distance, and by now they were both showing the signs of battle damage. Smoke and gas vented from spurts from one while black ichor spilled and froze from the other. Debris trailed both vessels like a wake a watercraft leaves behind. The Void Engine strained, sputtered and leaked radiation into the cold void of space, and at least two of the weapon-growths on the Xeno ship had stopped firing.
Her XO only gave a short glance as the order was pushed out but did not speak against the Captain’s order. If there was any doubt, it was masterfully hidden from their face. The order, possibly her last, was relayed at the speed of electricity, delayed only slightly by necessary reroutes around damaged network nodes. The Void Engine stopped venting plasma, allowing the ship to coast on inertia. The high pitched whine of the weapon capacitor banks grew to a fever pitch, to the point where the air itself seemed as deadly as a live wire. Alerts warning against increased pressure and temperature as the waste plasma built up in the containment field. Three gunners lined up their solutions, checking and rechecking as they painted the enemy ship with ionized lasers, overlapping their areas of effect for maximum cascading damage. Three corresponding irises in the battle-scarred prow of the ship opened wide, as if the ship now sported three gaping maws. Alerts from the engineering systems had begun flashing more insistently as they reported dangerous redlining. And when the moment was right at the cusp of no-return, the firing order was given.
As if propelled by a great heaving spasm, the built up plasma surged forth along a newly opened set of vents, opposite of its normal path. The capacitors whined and crackled before discharging with a crackle of thunder. The targeting beams held steady, guiding lights in the darkness of the void, and the plasma followed the seductive call of an opposing electrical charge as it rushed forth from the open irises. Crackling lighting followed as well, and so three separate walls of intertwined percussive force, flaming deluge and barely constrained thunderbolts lanced at the enemy ship. As they did so, all light and power from the attacker ceased under the strain that this last violent spasm required.
The three columns of death slammed into the points designated by the gunners and physics, punching their way through the outer hull where it was weakest. The immense heat warped and softened the inorganic internal supports while cooking alive the organic portions of the ship. The sheer force behind the assault tore away the weakened metal and flesh, while the massive thunderbolts crackled along the metal and nerve tissue of the ship, blackening and shriveling everything it could touch or leap to caress. Each one of these hits alone was devastating, and together they cascaded into outright cataclysm for the Xeno ship. If it wasn’t dead yet, the monstrosity would be soon, as the impact had shattered the hull and cooked the inside as if this terror of the void had been nothing more than a shellfish boiled in fine Thulunian lux.
For a short time, the crew held their breaths. With all but emergency power down for a few moments yet, the sensors couldn’t tell what exactly had happened or if the enemy was returning fire. Not that it would help, since they wouldn’t be able to maneuver even if they could see an incoming attack. But their temporary state of debility eventually faded as the backups kicked in, the Void Engine slowly roared back to life and the power and air flowed freely again.
