I’ve heard legends of the Bathos Motherships; the lifeblood of any Bathos attack. A Bathos Sphere dedicates everything to the weapons, armor and the complex life support system. They only have a few jumps in them before they run low on fuel or power or whatever it is they use. Most warships work on that principle. What good are heavy agricultural stations, cargo bays, and luxury amenities for a ship that will ideally never be far from a logistics stream? Half the Moby’s mass is dedicated to these things because we are expected to run missions where being cut off from such niceties is very likely. For every one warship there are ten support ships and stations keeping it stocked, repaired and ready for anything. For the Bathos, each fleet has just one Mothership to do much the same.

  “Say Inanna, how many people have actually fought a Bathos Mothership and survived?”

  “During the Bathos Eradication Campaign, there were 187 known Motherships. 165 were destroyed by Seraph forces. Ten more by Superiority Union fleets with heavy losses.”

  “And the last two?”

  “Expeditionary Captains.”

  We might just make it out of here after all.

  We exit Hyper Space. The stars turn from streaks to dots across the blackness of space. We follow Conqtor’s coordinates to the exact degree; no idea how he got them. A Mothership is never far from an attacking fleet. Typically only five light years. In the grand scheme that sounds small. Earth to Bayos, homeworld of the Geckiotan, is about thirteen. Then you actually try to search five light years and you start to realize how warped your opinion of distance has become. Even in a straight line that’s a massive task, let alone in a sphere in any possible direction around the enemy you are actively fighting with everything you got. Whatever Conqtor did, I’m sure it was impressive. Might have misjudged him, at least a little.

  “Danger: Incoming object within landing radius. Extreme likelihood of collision; identified object is a Bathos Mothership.”

  Conqtor you stupid bastard I hate you so much.

  By some miracle we avoid a direct hit. Shooting past it while still over twice the speed of light and landing several million kilometers away. I did say this was all ballpark numbers after all. We were lucky to have approached from the narrow side. A mothership is shaped like a long tube. About six kilometers by eighty. Had we come from a slightly different angle, that might have been it for us.

  “Vivvian, evasive maneuvers on the double. Re-orientate us for immediate action. Raze, are we in firing distance?”

  “Based on old records, not yet. That won’t last long.”

  “Set all Secondary and Tertiary weapons to interception and shift them to manual. I don’t want a single torpedo getting within ten thousand kilometers of us.”

  “Counter: Utilizing manual control is inefficient. The Automated-”

  “Not now Deed. Do as I order when I order it. Question me later. Right now, I need you to take control of the Primaries and target any ships coming our way.”

  “Affirmative: Following orders.”

  Deed is right. Manual controls are not nearly as accurate and prone to wasting ammo by having multiple guns fire at the same target. No amount of coordination or training will ever make these issues go away. And you know what? I don’t give a shit. Auto systems are built for marathons, not sprints. They fire the minimum number of munitions to keep enemy fire at bay assuming that for every one missile shot down there are a hundred more incoming. I don’t care if we exhaust our entire stores. If even one Torpedo hits this ship that will be guaranteed critical damage if not outright death. Not while I’m in command.

  “Arrows fly farther with the wind.”

  “Then fly.”

  Vivvian sets the throttle to full. Even at max speed it’s going to take a while to get into range. Bathos retaliation on the other hand.

  “Alert: Incoming torpedoes, 50 degrees.”

  Three million kilometers and still at risk. Our ECMs don’t seem to do crap.

  “All Point Defense, fire at will and at abandon.”

  Singularities sprout up like weeds. They are invisible to the naked eye. It’s their effects you see. The blinking lights off in the distance turn into swirling whirlpools of distorted light. Their area of effect is a minuscule fraction of a real singularity of the same size and they last only a few seconds before dissipating. Still a good idea to stay as far away as possible, though. Even a glancing hit can rip a lesser ship asunder.

  “Joan, is there any sign of Conqtor?”

  “Hears him. Confirm fighting. Send place he be.”

  Inanna zeroes in on Conqtor’s location. He’s in much the same situation, just half million klicks to the right. Our ECM isn’t doing much but the Bathos’ is. We need to use direct laser communication. It’s clunky, only allows short messages and needs direct line of sight. Better than nothing.

  “Send the following: Is there a plan?”

  “Speaksings.”

  Now to wait for a replay. If we last that long.

  “Alert: Bathos Spheres approaching.”

  “Do you have a lock-on?”

  “Affirmative: Systems ready to fire.”

  “Full forward Salvo. Use everything we’ve got.”

  “Affirmative: Firing in three, two, one. Fire.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Twin crimson beams blast out of the Moby’s central prow. Surrounding it is a rapid burst of green energy bolts from eight cannons and dozens of missiles. All flying off beyond the range of the naked eye.

  “Reporting: Volley ineffective. Damage minimal. Enemy vessels are still approaching.”

  This is the power of a Tier 1 race. Only through sheer volume of fire can we defeat something that so heavily outmatches us. And right now, we are the ones outnumbered.

  “Conchter has spoke. Words read: Cover me while I charge. What mean?”

  “I have a guess. Inanna, zoom in long range cameras to the Right Hand.”

  Looks like I was right. He’s dedicating power to his primary weapon. The legendary Heaven’s Dagger. In concept just a standard particle cannon. In actuality, a particle cannon that can store and stack its power into infinity. Particle cannons fire bolts because the energy they fire accelerates to such a degree nothing can contain it. The Geods found a way. Only Greater Races and Expeditionary Captains have access to this system, and most don’t use it. It’s a risky, all or nothing weapon that requires the entire vessel to dedicate itself to using it. Conqtor is even crazier than I thought.

  “I see no other plan. Vivvian, prepare for close combat maneuvers. Order all PD gunners to double time. I want flak firing at even a tiny fleck of space dust headed our way. Raze, we need the Sparklers.”

  Raze’s face is somewhere between terrified and giddy.

  “You sure? Do I really get to use them?”

  “It’s the one thing about today that’s going to be lucky for you.”

  “Shifting power. Let’s get this party raging.”

  There it is again. That jostling feeling. The Moby isn’t as maneuverable as my old frigate but it is much faster. Feels less like a tilt-a-whirl and more like a rollercoaster with warped tracks. Our gravity systems are leagues above what humanity uses. Doesn’t help in the slightest. Every ship has a max safe acceleration and we are well over that.

  “Alert: Point Defense systems are being overwhelmed. Shortened reaction times are increasing chances of break throughs.”

  “Captain, I recommend we deploy the Pin Point Shields."

  “Make it so Inanna.”

  The Moby has five different kinds of shields. The standard shields are the outer “Bubble” shield and the inner “Polarized” shield. Each has their strengths and weaknesses. Used in tandem there are few things we need to fear. Singularity torpedoes are one of those things. That’s where the Pin Point shields come in. They are what we call “Blackout” shields. Most shields still allow some things to pierce them like air or low intensity energy beams such as communication lasers. Blackouts stop everything, and I do mean everything. That’s why they need to be used only in small ten meter shields to protect specific points rather than as full coverage shields like the others. That and the fact they take about fifty times as much power to operate.

  The first torpedo hits a Pin Point Shield. Far away enough we don’t get torn to shreds. Close enough we can feel it. It’s like time stopped for a fraction of a fraction of a second. So small you’d swear nothing happened. As if your eyes blinked when you didn’t tell them to. You feel an ever so small part of yourself seemingly disappearing. More torpedoes come. More hits reach us. I keep blinking even though my eyes are wide open.

  “Prey we are, surrounded by hunger and hatred.”

  Rides about to get bumpier.

  “Jackknife maneuver. Raze, fire at will.”

  Vivvian lines us up with the closest Sphere, setting up a colossal game of chicken. The Sphere accepts our challenge. Their armor could smash straight through the Moby with barely a scratch. We don’t give them that chance. Less than a hundred klicks before impact, Vivvian turns on the side jets. The Moby swings, keeping the Prow pointed at the Sphere while the rear rotates. The Sphere careens past us as the Moby lines up directly behind. I don’t have to give the order for Raze to fire.

  Sparklers. A Cosmos weapon and the strongest one the Moby has. A form of homing disintegrator energy missile. No, that doesn’t make any more sense to me. Like I said, Tier 1 tech is something else. That vibrant pink whatever does the job. The Sphere’s armor is pierced. The whole vessel crumbles from the might of an equal power.

  “Alert: Incoming vessel from rear.”

  “Raze, rear cannon. Vivvian, drop right after.”

  Both do as they are told. Forwards or backwards, the Moby is just as fast and just as deadly. Another Sparkler goes out and strikes the attacking Sphere. Vivvian hits a hard drop just in time for the remains to fly over us. Just one left.

  “Captain! There is a full barrage incoming! The Mothership is firing all weapons at us.”

  “Vivvian, you’re free to perform any maneuvers you see fit.”

  “Prey are swiftest when the teeth are at their throat.”

  We dodge and weave through the waves of time. Forget rollercoasters, this is how it must feel being trapped in a barrel tossed off a waterfall. If the inertia dampeners were just a little weaker I’d probably pass out.

  “What the Space Hell is Conqtor doing?”

  Torpedoes stopped. Did they run out? No. This is an eye of the storm situation.

  “Identify the location of the last Sphere.”

  “Alert: Location 98 degrees and approaching fast.”

  “Vivvian!”

  She turns the wheel, but we don’t move.

  “Impact! Brace for Im-”

  We aren’t hit directly. It’s barely a love tap. The area of our ships that touch could be measured in micrometers. When one of those objects is going 1% the speed of light, that doesn’t matter. If not for structural shielding holding the Moby together that really could have been it. As is, the entire vessel is sent flying. The shift in momentum is so harsh it’s like I got hit by a repulsor truck with a full load. My nose is bleeding despite not hitting anything. It feels like my brain is spinning in my head.

  “Report. I need a report.”

  Only one not as jumbled as me is the head of Deed.

  “Alert: Numerous systems damaged. Engines overheated. The Moby is immobilized.”

  That shouldn’t have happened. We were going all over the place, sure. But we were never hit. Vivvian, she must have messed up. Didn’t keep the heat venting and power balanced. I told them she wasn’t ready. I asked too much. Should have had Alcea or Deed monitoring that for her. Should have let her focus on just keeping us safe.

  “Danger: Bathos Sphere coordinating for an attack run. Orders Captain Tom?”

  Even if we take that thing out, the Mothership will just finish us.

  “Lock-on anything and everything you can.”

  “Affirmative: Ready to fire at your command.”

  Going out in a blaze of glory sounds like an appropriate death for an Expeditionary Captain.

  “Ready, and…”

  Light. A massive beam that fills the emptiness. Conqtor finally made his move. I see why it’s called Heaven’s Dagger. It really does look like a divine blast from God itself. Even the Mothership doesn’t stand a chance. I watch the wrath of Ra slay Apophis at dawn, leaving only a corpse.

  “Deed, fire!”

  The Sphere had come to a halt. Distracted by seeing its home whipped away. Hundreds of missiles, energy blasts and kinetic projectiles find their mark as it gazes at the new sunrise. It’s the last one they will ever see.

  “Report. Is that all of them?”

  “Affirmation: All hostiles eliminated. Incoming Hail from Conqtor.”

  “On screen.”

  There is the guy I hate having saved my life. He looks pleased with himself.

  “Well executed old friend. I hope your hunting was as successful as mine. Three Sphere ships is no small feat. Alas, I have but one. It is a fair bit larger than yours.”

  “Just get us a tow out of here.”

  “Right, right. Save the bragging for Superior. His face will be a priceless treasure to witness.”