The Black

Commodore Gregory Burgoyne stood as 20 human captains 15 men and 5 women stepped into the conference room.

20 Ships of the USN had just arrived the previous morning, representing the Sol contingent of the Legion QRF. Delmar had always focused on smaller, more versatile ships in the past, and had very little experience producing true Capital ships.

Sol had sent 3 more EROS Dreadnaughts; the USN Simo, the USN Furlong, and the USN York. Sol had also sent what was to be the backbone and the Flag of each response fleet- Three Texas class ‘ships of the line’: The Terran designed USN Texas, the lines namesake, the USN Galveston, and the USN Houston. 3 Olympus class ‘ships of the line’ were also present: the Martian designed USN Olympus Mons,

-the class’ namesake-, USN Tharsis, and the USN Aeolis Mons. One massive 100 kilometer by 50 kilometer cargo transport named USN Timmy rounded out the larger capital ships with the remaining ten ships being corvette class Terran and Martian destroyers.

The “ship of the line” concept was an ancient idea born anew and forged in the cold expanse of interstellar combat. The aircraft carrier of old simply had a fatal flaw when sea state and planetary curvature were removed from the equation. The vastness and emptiness of space allowed a traditional carrier-style capital ship to be targeted too easily by human weapons capable of relativistic and near relativistic velocities. This fact, combined with the removal of a carrier's advantage of being ‘beyond the horizon’….and a dedicated carrier was simply too fragile. Early high attrition rates during the opening battles of the GSW had resurrecting the “battleship” as the semi-dominant weapon on Sol’s interstellar battlefield. True battleships began appearing in combat only to find that, while the Carrier had become obsolete, the Carrier-based fighters and bombers had not. Thus, after a surprising number of true battleships perished from fighter/bomber attacks on both sides, the “Ship of the Line” was ripped from the pages of 18th century naval history and reborn anew. Exceptions like the Super Carrier Enterprise existed, but not many were made, and the few that survived were husbanded carefully with excessively large battle groups and TALON support.

The S.O.L.’s “Souls”, as both sides were want to call them, were indeed the beating heart and soul of the late war battle group. Terran SOL’s tended to be slightly longer than their Martian-made counterparts. The Texas class Ships of the Line measured 55 Kilometers stem to stern, and over 20 kilometers at the beam.

Her beam was two thirds of the way back from her bow and was where her Hanger decks were located. Her hull was shaped much like a long obsidian stone spear head with a bluff bow. Her upper and lower hulls met almost like two long thin clamshells with a 1km gap between them. The doors to her a hanger bays were situated in that gap at the beam and a thin white line traced the upper edge of the lower hull. All Terran class ships were designed to be Earth Seaworthy. While the Texas class did have a “bridge” the bow, the command crew fought these ships from the “CIC” deep in her core protected by the bulk of the entire vessel and her armor. When cleared for action the Texas class boasted twin Rheinmetall GAOA 1005’s in a fixed forward firing position, a smaller version of the ‘Vulkan’ on the Eros class. These fired 10 meter long by 5 meter wide versions of the same ammunition as an Eros, but did not requires any special recoil mitigation as it only propelled its ordinance at 5 percent the speed of light instead of 15. Her main battery was emplaced in super firing twin turrets. 2 turrets with 3 1005’s a piece and 6 total pairs of turrets. 3 pair on the upper hull and 3 pair on the lower hull. Her point defense included 30 GAU34 automated anti-fighter/bomber turrets, each paired with a laser anti-missile turret.

Unless they needed to be disassembled, Terran capital ships were designed to complete reentry and land in Terra’s oceans and bays for more ease of refit and resupply. With the addition of Higgs bosun generators, this became the de-facto maintenance protocol for any Terran ship not requiring an orbital dry dock to repair hull breaches.

Martian SOLs were slightly shorter at 48 kilometers bow to stern. Her profile resembled a vertical trapezoidal rectangle with a sharp pointed prow and a long taper almost to her midships. Mars had reverse-engineered the MAC cannons even before the war, but their weapon of choice had always been the PAC. The Olympus class Martian SOL’s carried two MWI orbital PAC-20s that fired a 20m in diameter phased laser and accelerated particle beam at essentially the speed of light. It lacked punch at long range so to attenuation, but it was known to cut opposing vessels into literal chunks once their shields failed under closer quarters assault.

4 more PAC 20 emitters were in low-profile swivel turrets along her upper hull and 3 on her lower hull. Much like her counterpart. Laser and GAU34 made up her 48-point defense emplacements.

The drastic design difference between the two classes came down to form following function. The long flat curved nature of the Terran ships gave the Martian PACs as many directions to bleed energy as it could if the shields failed; while the sharp pointed prow and long rake to the Martian ships gave the Terran MAC rounds a significant ricochet chance under the same shield failure condition.

The room settled,

“Now, I’ll begin by introduction. I am Gregory Burgoyne commodore for the Legion QRF. You are the other half of a joint response force instituted to protect the hybrid Delmar/Human crewed freighters in this sector. We are more than those gentlemen and women. Let’s begin” The room groaned at the death by PowerPoint that was surely to begin….

—————————————————————-

There was no pain…. The nagging need to cough was completely gone. So was his ability to move. Growrmun opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. He found that he could look around. He could smell it. He was not in an ING medical facility. He smelled… he froze his looking as his eyes came to rest on a Delmar female sitting with her arms crossed. Next to her…

“Demon..” his voice croaked

“Luv, fetch the doctor, will you?” The Demon spoke before the female Delmar kissed him and stood up.

“Be good.” her voice said as she faded from view.

The Demon stood and Growrmun watched him closely as he picked up a pitcher of water and poured two cups before sticking a straw in one. He took a drink from his cup before approaching the bed.

“Slowly, your surgery almost ended you.” The Demon tucked the straw in the corner of Growrmun’s mouth. Seeing as this ‘Human’ drank the same water, he drank slowly from the straw.

“Kill me….” Growrmun said quietly, but more clearly as his voice returned to him.

“An interesting proposition, not one I expected.” The Demon, “why?”

“I’ve seen you fight firsthand. I’ve seen the footage of the attack. I’m the one who planned it. Kill me, tell the ING I died on the mission.” Growrmun’s voice was a growl of disgust.

“Is that how you wish to save your family?”

The Demon said softly as Growrmuns eyes flew wide, “How long do we have.”

“Why do you care..” Growrmun glared at the Demon

“Because I draw the line at the innocent. I know who you are, I know you attacked my wife on that freighter… but I will not let a child be murdered if I can help it. Where are they. And how much time do we have.” The Demon glared at him, clearly losing patience.

“You are a Demon….” Growrmun chuckled darkly, “You care not.”

“I am a father,” the Demon growled, “and I am your only option. What choice do you have?”

Growrmun knew it to be true. He sighed heavily before beginning.

“A day from when the message is sent from the delegation. They will be put out into the wilderness of my home-world with no provisions save for one suicide pill each, and the threat of execution upon the entry of any civilized location.”

“Is this your people’s culture or unity?” the demon asked.

“Unity, my people will enforce it, or risk execution themselves.

“I can work with that. How do I find them?”

The Demon seemed to calm.

“My suit, cut a piece off of it. You will need my scent. My mate, I had a tracker implanted, ‘8827450’ that should pull it up on most sensors.” Growrmun let his head fall finally “You will never make it. Drowrl, it’s three months from here.”

“Captain? The transport just sent a message. It’s coded for the Lycan home world.” An unknown voice interrupted.

“Get Greg on the horn, tell him I’m going to need a Texas….” The Demons face contorted in a terrifying expression. “It’s time to make a statement. Growrmun, I need you to answer this one question to allow me to act… do you request asylum for you and your family from the Delmar Confederation and or the United Sol Federation”

“Yes”

——————————————————————

*you ready for this?* Mac’s thoughts washed over her as Lyrian settled into the seat as Concord burned for the beacon.

*I am, no one deserves this. They are going to force a mother to kill her child.* lyrian responded just as a hale intruded on their conversation. She flicked over to com1 with a thought and man keyed it up as soon as he felt her do it.

-Cobra224 Cobra224 USN Galveston transmitting on point 997-

*Jesus, they brought the Gally* “Galveston, Cobra224 on 997. Jesus Christ is that who I think it is?” Mac was in shock. He had known some Texas class SOLs were coming but...

-We need to stop meeting like this Mac, I brought my tall boots this time, how much shit we steppin’ in this time-

“Well Bill, It’s the worst best kind of mission. Extraction with a time limit and plenty of targets. Concord jumps in 30 seconds. We are going in quiet, exfil expected to be Dodge City.”

-I’ll wear my special hat. Happy hunting 224, we await your signal Galveston out-

*Details, give.* lyri demanded even as her mind whipped through the jump procedure faster than her fingers could fly.

*That was Samuel “Wild Bill” Harrison. He earned his call sign the hard way. How that fucker kept the Galveston alive through some of his shit, is the subject of master’s papers. *

Mac spooled the slip drive up as the countdown reached zero…

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Vivaria Drumorsik and her pup huddled in the corner of the Hover transport as it skimmed along the grasslands of their home planet. It had taken them a full day to find her hide. Regarai, poor little boy, got hungry at the one moment when a Thermian Enforcer was standing over the floor plank they were hiding under. She had shielded her infant son with her body as the beatings started. They got worse when little Raga latched on to one of their attackers and drew blood. It hurt to breath, she was sure that she had at least one broken rib and could taste blood every exhale.

The Hover craft jolted as it set down. The pilot shut the craft down as the two Lizards that found her walked to the corner where she huddled.

“What do you think Krorak. I’ve never had a mammal. I hear they are… warm.” The first one said, snapping an arm out and grabbing Mowria by the ears, dragging her bodily outside of the craft and thew he onto the ground. She clutched Regarai in a fetal position.

“Goruk, you know that would leave evidence… go pay for a mammal back in town.” The second one said, drawing his sidearm and holding it at his side, “Besides This one doesn’t get the pill, commands orders. It seems her spineless mate was captured… We can’t have Him go unpunished now, can we? Someone might find the Bitch before she gives up.”

“You know Mammals are expensive for us. I want this one.” The first Lizard fumbled with his pants for a moment, “A little acid an no one will be th….”

Dozens of impacts slammed into the ground all around the two lizards. 250 furrows were dug into the dirt at 5000 meters per second, as Concord’s gun was in its atmospheric mode, at the moment. 120 of them impacted the two Lecherous Reptiles. They popped like Balloons full of bone and gore. The Hover Craft began to take off frantically and got 500 meters before a Hyper sparrow connected and reduced it to scrap.

Vivaria clutched her son’s ears and pinned her own back as the sudden explosive shower of gore was drowned out by a feral howl mixed with a blood-curdling scream. Out of the darkness, a predator’s wings flickered in the light as it bled speed to come to rest facing her. It hovered for a moment, snarling at her before settling down to the ground and whining slowly to silence. Two strange creatures in suits got out and one of them opened it’s helmet.

Vivaria’s eyes widened when the head of a Delmar Female appeared. ‘Delmar aren’t aggressive, what the hell is going on’

She held out a patch of fabric, “8827450” she stated matter of factly.

Vivaria’s opened her mouth before recognizing the numbers, they were her tracking implants code... the wind tussled the hair of the woman before bringing a scent to Vivaria’s nose. “Growr” She whispered. Then jumped as the speaker in the other one’s helmet activated.

“We don’t have much time, you are under asylum protection if we can get you out of here. Let’s go!!” The helmet shouted and it started climbing back up the ladder on the side of the metal death bird in front of them.

“Hand him your son” The female said kindly, and Vivaria shrank away.

“He is the father of my children, hand him your son” She soothed reaching again for Ragarai.

Vivaria hesitated then handed him to the woman who promptly LEAPT the entire height from the ground to the cockpit to hand the boy to the man in the front seat.

“Follow me up” The Delmar commanded and again vaulted up the ladder.

Vivaria followed up in a more traditional manner and was promptly and forcefully pulled into the lap of the female delmar in the rear seat as the glass bubble above them began to lower. The woman leaned her head back on the rest and closed her eyes for a moment before they snapped open,

“Jarvis Hab override 1817 Juliet, deploy harnesses” both the Delmar female and the male said in perfect unison before the entire seating area plus the consoles lowered itself down to reveal a corridor to the right.

“Go in there. Behind the seats. You will find a room. Strap in.” the two said in unison. “GO!” The order came in stereo as the mother and son scrambled for the back, finding a bed with harnesses extended. Vivaria secured her little one and watched as the harness self-adjusted and secured her infant’s head and kneck in addition to the normal supports. She then harnessed herself.

The two must have been watching because she saw the seats rise to their original position and faint lighting ignited to give her something other than pitch black.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

*her son is so small, will he survive? * lyri thought while running through her threat checks as they exited the atmosphere at a more stately pace than they had entered.

*I don’t know, I’ll take it as gently as I can, but we can’t get spotted.* Mac thought back as he started accelerating at 2 human G’s. Concord was in full stealth, and Maximum stealth meant minimum acceleration.

*Only one Lycan cruiser as a possible, Let’s does not shoot down local craft if we can help it. This needs to go without Lycan lives taken.* She thought to him.

*Yea, I’m cutting the engines to lower our… shit. *

Lyrian saw it at the same time. Two massive Thermian Frigates exited at the jump point and turned to flank it at 100 kilometers distance.

*Crybaby Cry* Mac grumbled

*Make yo mamma sigh.* Lyrian thought back as she activated the subspace signal to the Galveston.

She had jumped 4 hours after Mac and Lyrian had and was currently 5 minutes out by timing. The subspace signal was a tight beam, directionally aimed. It turned Concord into Galveston’s forward observer, feeding her increasingly more real-time tactical and target data..

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Captain! Receiving Crybaby, looks like a pinching ambush along our dropout trajectory.”

Captain Harrison Sighed, reaching behind him to take his grandfather’s authentic Buffalo Stetson from its place hanging on his command chair. He slipped it on his head over the top of his suits low profile helmet with one hand, “Alright, Clear for Action. Prep Hickok. Batteries are cleared to fire are they bear…”

He didn’t bother giving the execute order, His tone was all his boys needed... he caught his chief tactical officer smiling like a little kid on Christmas. He returned it.

Hickok was a “Wild Bill” Special. It did not exist in any tactical handbook. It was the maneuver with which Samual Harrison had earned his call sign. Each tube of the main Gauss batteries had a 6-round rotary magazine. Each Turret had 3 tubes. By pointing each upper and lower battery out at a 45-degree angle to their trajectory. he could essentially double strafe a pincer maneuver at full burn. Usually, this was done in sublight. This time, it would have the element of surprise.

Galveston dropped into the Drowrl system with ALL of her six-guns out. Her opponents were almost where they were supposed to be.

“Captain! Targeting solutions will be no good! They are off by 48 degrees radially!” Tactical barked

“Full value roll to starboard, get us lined up Helm” Harrison Barked

“No good sir! We need 12 deg’ per second to get there, we can only get to 8 in time.” Helm pleaded as the Galveston started to roll to the right.

Harrison’s eyes looked over everything at the speed of thought, making calculations, desperate to figure out how to gi… He smiled.

“Tactical, Dump the Port side Atmo Tanks through the thrusters” Harrison barked.

“But sir!” His second in command looked at him in horror.

“We are either dead or we are down to 2 years of air instead of 4, on a two-day sortie. DO IT” Harrison Bawled

“Venting!!!” Tactical called and Galveston’s roll accelerated.

“We have 12 DPS!! Cut it!” called the helm and the tanks were sealed once more.

“AS YOU BARE!” Bellowed Harrison just as the helm arrested the roll and the first guns found their marks.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“You brilliant, crazy fuck!” Mac said out loud as Lyrian watched the atmosphere bellow from the Port side of Galveston, spinning the Titanic battleship/carrier hybrid just quickly enough to get her guns on target. Thousands of pounds of hate spewed from her flanks as Galveston’s Batteries spoke for the first time since the Second Battle of Centerpoint. Only one of the frigates had gotten its shields up. The other was reduced to scrap. Laser and plasma splashed off of Galveston’s shields as she curved around the struggling frigate, crossing her T to the aft and pouring concentrated gauss fire into her aft main drives. The Doomed Thermian’s shields overloaded in seconds and the vessel burst like a methane filled balloon popped with a lighter.

Mac went fully active, flicking on his FFID beacon and burning hard for Galveston. Two Fox2’s in quick succession disabled the one brigantine fast enough to respond to the counter-ambush of the Galveston.

*We have our jump parameters* he heard Lyrian ‘say’ just as Galveston completed her turn and leaped back for Slipspace.

Concord flashed into FTL moments later, returning with precious cargo safe and secured...

______________________________________________________________________________

She was a prisoner... She and her boy had passed out twice during their captivity. She had been told that they were only going to be in their cell for a day.

She was allowed to unstrap and was told where the facilities were. ‘at least I’m not treated like an animal’ she had thought before being ordered back into the straps sometime the next ‘Day’. If they were telling the truth...

She had passed out again as their prison shook and howled. It was of little comfort as she could hear her little boy whining in terror. It felt like an eternity until their flying nightmare came to a stop and stopped making its infernal racket… There was nothing to be of use, she did not keep her claws sharp like her husband did. Vivaria clutched at her still whimpering son as the corridor she had crawled down all that time ago illuminated once more and a Delmar Female stepped into their cell.

“Are you two ok? Concord is not made to carry passengers, but she is the only ship we have that could sneak into and out of your planet’s defenses.” It was the same woman as before.

“May we… please... please leave this place” Vivaria was making no attempt to hide her terror.

“Of course, crawl through the corridor like you did the last time, and both of you sit in the front seat. I’ll cycle the Cockpit up and open the canopy. My husband is already outside doing his post-flight checks. The ladder will be on the right. You go down first, and I will hand the little one to you” She smiled.

‘I have no choice’ thought Vivaria as she did as ordered. Everything happened as explained and soon Mother, son, and Delmar were all safely on the hanger floor. Little Ragarai started reaching for a fluttering orange flag waving from the predator they rode in on.

“Easy little man, that one needs to stay on for now.” Vivaria froze… and slowly turned to the Voice that the whole galaxy knew.

The most Infamous “Human” in the entire Unity stepped out from around the other side of the ship.

“Demon! We must go!!” She frantically scooped up only watch the Delmar woman giggle.

“Vivaria, It's only My Husband, no demons here.” She walked up and planted a kiss on the Face the Unity had claimed as pure evil.