The Retreat

“Admiral, the Vulpine fleet is on the far edge of the system. They appear to be moving to retreat.”

The deck officer turned over to his superior, Admiral Artonia. Commander of the Terran dreadnought Achilles. An older man, pushing sixty, with a gray beard and eyes which had seen a hundred campaigns. He was affectionately referred to as the Vagabonds Bane, for his contribution in the pirate wars of decades past.

Now, though, they faced a different threat. 

“Open the transmitter. I want a message sent to their flagship”

The Admiral said after a moment of consideration. His expression was unreadable, as his technicians set up the equipment necessary to send a transmission through the depths of space. Once it was set up, a start button was pushed, and a technician gave the admiral a signal to begin speaking.

“Vulpine Dreadnought Crown, this is Admiral Artonia of the Terran Prime Fleet. You and your allies within the Vulpine Colony are in violation of Terran law, in the unlawful invasion of this system. You will withdraw your forces from this system, and disengage all weapons aboard your vessels. You are under arrest. Do not resist.”

He kept his stone face throughout the transmission, and afterwards, as it was beamed towards the enemy ships.

“Keep us on course to intercept. Send a light escort with our transports towards the planet. I want troops on the ground by tomorrow.”

“Yes sir!” 

Came the resounding reply from the men on the bridge, who set to carrying out his orders. The Terran’s transports, filled with all of the men and weapons needed for invasion.

They had brought this upon themselves. Humanity had expanded to the stars, become the masters of it, and had sprung its civilization into corners of the galaxy. They had finally stood united under one holy purpose…and now they had decided to throw it away.

First had been pirates. Opportunists in league with the criminal elements of Terra, being funneled money and warships. Miniature wars had raged across the core worlds, ending with the defeat of the pirates, but a weakened Terra.

Now, after years of peace, one of the oldest colonies to be established, the Vulpine Colony, had decided to begin a conquest of its neighbors. Declaring itself the “Vulpine Empire ” and taking its neighbors one system at a time, waging war across their arm of the galaxy. But no longer. After the Terrans had heard distress calls from the Vulpine’s space, they’d armed a fleet and set course across the cosmos. And, nearly four years later, they’d reached the first affected colony. Record time.

All that was left now was to arrest these Vulpines, and restore the unity of humanity. And the Admiral was confident he could do that. 

“Admiral, six vessels have split off from the main force, and are on interception course. The rest are still moving to retreat. In addition, the escort fleet has begun engaging with an orbital defense grid; it appears as if they’ve become entrenched.”

The Admiral’s brow visibly furrowed. They worked fast. Most installations of that size took at least five years, if not more, if only to converge the materials needed from multiple star systems. 

“Split off three battleships with siege cannons. Clean out the orbital defenses. What class are the splitting Vulpine ships?”

“Carriers, sir. Maximum size. Closing quickly.”

Artonia frowned. Stall tactics. 

“Ready our carriers to launch, and have them break formation to the sides. We’ll send our fighters around and close with their main fleet, and disable as many ships as we can. Put anti-fighter cruisers in front of us to take the brunt head on, then rip the carriers apart from range.”

The crew moved to carry out his orders, as the ships drifted closer and closer.

Four hours passed, maps and simulations were measured out, and first contact would begin. The Vulpine starfighters launched from their hangar bays in droves, swarms of fighters which flew in grandiose formations. At the same time, anti fighter cannons opened fire across the void, arcing towards the approaching swarms and rippling out detonations which cascaded through the enemy lines. 

Meanwhile, the Terran carriers performed their maneuver, having already partially broken formation, launched their own fighters, intending to steer far clear of the encroaching swarm and head for the Vulpine fleet at large, with the goal being the targeting of engines. 

Things seemed to be going well, with projections having about half of the fighters still intact by the time they closed. The Terran fighters would be closing with the Vulpine fleet within moments. The Admiral folded his hands over his command console, and was about to give a new order, when one of the Technicians turned over to him, a pale look on her face.

“Admiral, there’s something wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow, motioning for her to go on.

“There are no life signs on those fighters.”

The Admiral’s eyes widened. Drones. The bastards were using drones. And that meant-

He turned to the crew, shouting out at the top of his lungs-

“Ready an EMP shell, NO-”

The order was too late. The swarm made contact with the front, and detonated. 

Waves of explosive death rippled across the fleet, the cruisers being ripped to pieces, along with the vessels that had been firing on the carriers.

In response, the rest of the fleet fired together, opening up on the carriers, and ripping them to bits.

But the damage had been done.

The added cries of the encircling team as they met a similar fate on approach.

He turned back to his crew. Hoping for any good news.  

“The Vulpines are burning for the system’s edge. We can’t catch them.”

There it was. He put a hand to his head, feeling weak.

“Settle in for a siege of the planet. And send a courier to command.”

The crew moved to obey his orders in silence, as he looked back out of the bridge’s viewport.

What has humanity come to?