Chronicles of the Aeons War, page 78
part #3 of The Omniverse Series
The probes showed images that were the stuff of nightmare: A massive, dark sphere of nothing hundreds of millions of kilometres across…only visible because it was surrounded by a brilliantly-glowing accretion disk light-years wide. Countless stars were locked in violent elliptical orbits around the black hole while gasses and material were thrown off their surfaces as they went flinging around formed a nebula that defined the shape of what their eyes said wasn’t there.
But it was the black hole itself that seemed most terrifying…it was simply a dark nothing…unable to be seen on any electromagnetic spectra, visible only as a gravimetric event the color of oblivion and death, ringed by all the material it was gorging on and the twin spears of light that pierced outwards from its poles; a quasar, this supermassive black hole had spin and ejected a constant stream of plasma in columns light years long. It was a beacon of doom, a warning not a welcoming signal. The accretion disk was light hours wide, layers of rings of cosmic debris that moving like a spinning ocean, breaking down everything approaching it into their basest forms and barest elements.
And then there was the Zohor superstructure, suckling greedily away at everything falling in towards the black hole, caught in currents and eddies of matter and gas, of plasma and energy falling towards the event horizon’s infinite luminous band across the supermassive void that was more ancient than anything else in the universe. The mushroom-shaped, black-hulled Zohor behemoth, was minuscule against the backdrop of its host. As black as the Zohor War Machine’s hull was, it was not as black as the heart of this galaxy. And the netlike matrix of collection grids across its surface made its design obvious: it ate everything falling into the black hole from one end, and deployed new Zohor weapons, birthing them, from the other.
“It’s a manufacturing facility,” The Shekhina Mehdi said, when the probes identified it. “It’s the manufacturing facility!” And from the Bridge as they zoomed in on the image, past the nebula, past the Zohor Swarm cloud and in on to the object itself, the Queen of Light and Sorrow spoke words that chilled Grandmaster Benedict Jack to the bone:
“We must go there: for My Daughter is within. The Zohor have been using Her to manufacture weapons to use against us. We will free Her and destroy their Weapons Manufacture Node.”
The Grandmaster had been told of what they were about to go through; the stories had terrified him when he was younger. Now that he was about to face them, he felt a level of horror he hadn’t imagined himself capable of.
“As you say, my Queen,” he choked.
TWENTY-SIX
OPERATION METATRON
The Zohor Command Router Station was a boxy, cylindrical structure from which thousands of spines grew out across its wide surface, growing like crystals and pointing out in all directions. It was hollow through the center third of its diameter, though a swarm of Zohor needle-ships and death orbs flew through its thousand-kilometre-cavity and out and around the Command Router Station in a bustling, ever-moving sphere of ships. From the Bridge of the Ouroboros, the Voyager remarked that he’d never seen anything like it. Commodore Baxter Vincent replied that he had, once.
The Three Fleets had gathered for the first time in centuries. Thousands of El-Ahur Ships of both Phenex and Jibrail design and class were now assembled, having trained together for long months until their interdependence exceeded their mutual distrust. The gathering was unprecedented; but so was an attack on the Zohor’s Command Router Station. The fleets formed three distinct swarms of ships guarding a common center: the eye of the El-Ahur’s Storm, where the command ships had gathered so that the Fleet Commanders and Ship’s Commanders could meet and prepare for the massive, coordinated and carefully-timed campaign they were about to begin.
As Grandmaster, Yeung Acshah was both the Head of the Armada and the Commander of the Caliburn Fleet. Commodore Baxter Vincent was in charge of the largest Fleet; the Queen’s Fleet, commanded from the Ouroboros. And a man more legend than reality, for the Fleet from the Far Frontier had simultaneously seen the most action and been the least contacted in its long history, Commodore Sholokhov Chagatay was one of the oldest El-Ahur and had commanded the Far Frontier fleet on his own, communicating directly and solely with the Handmaid and the Fleetmasters for centuries. Until the Queens had come, each in their own time. He had served both the Queen of Light and Sorrow and the Queen of Hope from his same remote location, obeying the same orders issued long ago to the Far Frontier.
He was older even than the Handmaid, some said. His hair an unnatural white; woven into complex braids, as was his ornately knotted and woven white beard. Commodore Sholokhov wore the Black and Gold uniform armour of the Naval Guard, from which he had been long ago promoted. His uniform was done with the insignia of rank of a Commodore, the ceremonial cloak shortened and integrated into the armour itself. His face was wrinkled – even far more remarkable among the El-Ahur – and he stood apart from the rest of the gathered Fleet Commanders. His own ships’ Commanders and Captains kept more to themselves than the other two fleets. But having been sequestered on the Far Frontier for so long, they had no camaraderie with the officers of the other two fleets. It was said they had a culture unto their own, generations of children born and raised to serve the Fleet of the Far Frontier. The former Jibrail El-Ahur seemed to be the only ones Sholokhov’s Officers had any ease mingling with; perhaps because of the centuries they had shared isolated from Midian and its people. From what Benedict had seen so far this day, the Queen’s best wishes for there being only El-Ahur aside, everyone else had their own ideas about who they chose to associate with. Though a few Phenex and Hadosh attempted to mingle with the Jibrail, the Suphia kept to the Phenex or themselves. Of course, for the longest time, those two Tribes believed they were the only two Tribes of El-Ahur that existed.
The Fleet from the Far Frontier comprised a mix of ancient ships found on the travels and explorations of the Castaneda Expeditions, newer, more uniform (but still indescribably old) ships rebuilt and deployed by the Sentinel at Bloom’s Point and the spiderlike Jibrail ships assigned to Sholokhov’s Starfleet; the Jibrail fit right in with this mix of strange an ancient ships from the Far Frontier. Sholokhov and his people had accepted the Jibrail without suspicion and complaint; the Jibrail soon understood why: the Fleet at the Far Frontier was alone, isolated from everyone else in the Starfleet; just as they had been. Though Sholokhov’s people were not cybernetically modified or vat-grown like the Jibrail, they had sworn themselves to defend a planet most had never seen; to defend not only the frontier, but to explore systems for hundreds of thousands of light years to make sure there were no enemy incursions into El-Ahur space.
Sholokhov had chosen as his Flagship a massive, flattened slab of a vessel; rectangular, cold, grey and ancient. There was almost no detail to the thing except for engines, thruster ports and weapons and ship deployment bays. Closed or open, their presence and intent were undeniable. Sholokhov had never christened his command ship. The nameless brute was identified either by its beacon code, referred to as Sholokhov’s Ship or His ship. This was another trait that endeared his Jibrail crew to him: none of their ships had ever been christened with names of their own; simply beacon numbers. They referred to the ships by their beacon numbers or the names of their Commanders; in Sholokhov’s Fleet the Jibrail found their most kindred Phenex El-Ahur spirits.
The Fleet Commanders, Grandmaster Yeung Acshah and her Captain Bergeron Dante, Commodore Baxter Vincent and Captain Heihachi Daniel, Commodore Sholokhov Chagatay and his captain, Emerson Antonia, and all their respective ships’ Captains and Commanders gathered closer together. They entered into the Gathering of the Dream and found themselves in the Queens’ Council chambers in the city of Olympus. The Council Chambers were carved high into the mountain and overlooked the Blue Mountain range to the south. The rising sun, reaching back to the north as it slowly crossed the sky, flooded the chamber with light and the clean air of the Umbra.
In the Gathering Gabrielle appeared fully fleshed and without augments – as did her fellow Jibrail. She sat in Her Mother’s Seat and overlooked the assembly. Everyone was seated as they would be in any War Council the chamber itself simply exaggerated in size compared to its real-life counterpart. Such was the mutability of the Dream; its size and shape could be tailored to the needs of its occupants. The nature of the Dream likewise ensured that whoever spoke would be heard by All.
Gabrielle outlined the mission; Her role in it and what each fleet would be required to do. They were again shown combat instance telemetry of the battle each Fleet Group and each Division, given broad outlines of their field of operations, missions and expectations. They would all have more in depth tactical information as it became relevant to their assigned roles in the combat.
♦♦♦
Upon leaving the Dream and returning to the Command Deck, Baxter Vincent, Commodore of the Ouroboros and Commander of the Queen’s Fleet turned to Gabrielle, whose cables had coiled tightly around her into a metallic black armour that shimmered like oil in moonlight; her red hair was braided into a crown worn over her forehead, “My Queen, we lost Your Mother at the Battle of the Maelstrom the last time we went up against one of these Zohor superstructures. Are You certain You can survive this?”
Gabrielle nodded, “My Mother went mad at the Battle of the Maelstrom because of what She saw the Zohor had done to Me. She could not know the extent of what they had done and She could not imagine what it would do to Her as a Mother, as a Woman, as a God. You lost Her then because She went Mad and became the Shekhina Siva, the Destroyer of Worlds. I’m the Shekhina Devi; the Queen of Hope. I shall not fall as My Mother fell, because I do not have the same stake in this that She did. Her stake was My Life. My stake is the Omniverse, itself.”
♦♦♦
“Nav, Conn: all ships reporting ready and standing by for One-CI jump. Countdown as set by Bloom’s Point Master Observation is T Minus eleven minutes, fifty-one seconds…mark.”
“Conn, Nav: Confirmed. Continue monitoring and synch countdown. All ships to set pre-assigned jump solutions and slave jump command to the ‘Boros.”
A moment later Baxter was given another set of updates: “Communications, Conn: all ships confirming and compliant: Jump command slaved to the ‘Boros. We’re all going in at once and all riding in hot.”
“Tactical, Conn: Kinetic shielding systems fully charged; particle beam and plasma cannons all charged and fully operational. Missile bays in pre-launch, standing by. All reporting ships equally ready for full engagement.”
“How many fleet groups left to report in?”
“Twenty-seven, sir.”
“Conn, Communications: What is the ready status of our Sister Fleets?” Baxter Vincent called out.
“Comm, Conn: Caliburn reports eighty-nine percent fleet ready call and standing by for incoming ready calls. Sholokhov’s Fleet reports fleet ready and standing by.”
“Son of a bitch,” Heihachi murmured.
“Commander?” Baxter called.
“Sorry sir; I think Sholokhov’s trying to show us up.”
“He doesn’t have to, Dan; he’s the Commodore of the Far Frontier…there’s not a tougher, better trained group of El-Ahur in the Black.”
“As you say, Commodore.”
“Advise all ships at the nine-minute mark,” Baxter ordered, “Fleet is now standing by for Q-Field jump.”
♦♦♦
The Ouroboros, prior to First Combat Instance, jumped from the Q-Field to a point less than five thousand kilometres from the Zohor Network Command Relay Node. A full legion of HAM units were cramped aboard a large shuttle prepping to launch them at the enemy. They stood at attention as their Mission Commander, the Queen of Hope strode to the middle of the shuttle’s crew compartment. She alone wore no HAM armour; Her body itself was all the protection She would ever need.
“Brothers and Sisters…I have been meditating on this mission,” She said, “And I have foreseen that bringing you with me will accomplish nothing but your injury and death. The Zohor will detect us, overwhelm our position and destroy you. The Zohor identifiers we use will not work here; I have foreseen that this installation’s defences will adapt to them in minutes. For that reason I have elected not to have you accompany Me.”
“Accompany you, my Queen we’re meant to keep you Alive!” Legion Commander Thompson Usman replied, “If you go over there without us—”
“The defences inside that installation are more sophisticated than aboard anything we have previously attacked; the Zohor are adapting to us. They will scan your identifier codes and be able to match them against a catalogue of what signal is assigned to what sort of Zohor. The instant that it classifies your mass and displacement as not matching the catalogue, the countermeasures will begin. I am classified in their directories as a mobile operational Zohor component. My presence will note I am not from their inventory, but My sudden arrival within the Zohor Command Router Station will slow down their response, as the defences attempt to ascertain whether My authority as an autonomous component extends beyond the Weapons Design and Manufacture Node where I went missing. More confusion in their limited machine intellect will be caused by the reported destruction of My Node conflicting with My confirmed presence there. Any other clearances I need I’ll be able to remove from that thing’s systems. I can protect Myself. I can complete the mission and find the systems components we’re looking for, and get back out again. But I cannot do any of that if I must also concentrate on defending you from the inevitable enemy attack your presence would bring.”
“We can’t let You go alone! You’ll be—”
“Immediately recognized as one of their own. They have My displacement, configuration, mass and both biometric and electromagnetic output . The worst they can do is attack Me once. Do not forget that I am My Mother’s Child; My Power exceeds their ability to damage Me.”
“But my Queen…the Zohor did…”
“The Zohor did nothing to Me that I did not allow them to do,” She replied, “If you don’t trust Me not to revert back to My former state then you are not ready to follow Me as your Queen.”
“I trust you, My Queen!”
“Good,” Gabrielle replied. And then the discussion was over. The Queen of Hope had vanished from the shuttle and the Ouroboros was being ordered at Her command to withdraw until One-CI began.
♦♦♦
Gabrielle shifted Herself beyond the hull of the Command Router Station, into one of its many narrow channels. Spreading Her mechanical cables out, stretching them slowly in front and behind, She began to make a slithering progress into the blackness of the Machine. But She could see down here thanks to the mechanical enhancements of Her eyes. And because of Her connection to the Zohor, She knew just what She was looking for.
The resistance She encountered was far from minimal; far worse than what She promised She would face but certainly still negligible given Her abilities. She deployed a series of trick command signals out, and the local sweepers turned themselves against the more entrenched defence systems that were keeping Gabrielle from Her intended target. Of course, She knew that the Junction was already transmitting its immune-response alert; the Zohor swarm deployed to defend it would be breaking formation to best reorient their weapons to destroy the Command Router Station. In the middle of the reorientation the ships of the armada burst from the Q-field and attacked; every one point twenty-one seconds brought another burst of light as each new Combat Instance of the ships of the three fleets flared to life and began attack manoeuvres.
Now the Zohor would very briefly lose cohesion as a unit as the defensive systems aboard the Command Router Station debated whether destroying or defending the Node was more essential. Meanwhile, other alert broadcasts had gone out and been answered, as more Zohor swarms began arriving, preparing to join the fight.
The command conflict resolution took long enough to momentarily affect inner defences. However by then Gabrielle had the access She needed to the Network Command Relay Node’s security systems and was already programming in Her authorization. Then, no longer sensing any internal threat, the Zohor turned their attention to the attacking El-Ahur.
♦♦♦
The first minute and a half of the attack saw fifty Combat Instances of the armada emerge to attack the Zohor. It was the most single-sided part of the fight, as the Zohor were generally inert, waiting for an internal command priority conflict to be resolved so that they could be deployed.
