Barbarians

Riders on the storm

Riders on the storm

Into this house we're born

Into this world we're thrown

Like a dog without a bone

An actor out on loan

Riders on the storm

There's a killer on the road

His brain is squirmin' like a toad

Take a long holiday

Let your children play

If you give this man a ride

Sweet family will die

Killer on the road

The Doors - “Riders on the Storm”

...it’s a mistake...it must be a mistake… was the first thing that went through Admiral Matevosian’s mind, as the Ronin Vipers opened fire on their own fleet.

But as his Task Force staggered under the blow, he knew damn well this was no mistake. Whether it was sabotage or treason or something else he didn’t know, but he had bigger issues to deal with.

One destroyer broke its back as the Ronin attack vessels unleashed another salvo, leaving him no choice. “All ships…target the Vipers!” he shouted at his Comm Officer, as his heavies started shooting back.

The Copperhead fighters caught between the Scylla of this new enemy, and the Charybdis of the treasonous Viper’s spent far too many precious moments deciding which threat they should focus on. Matevosian was about to decide for them when they flipped end-over-end and burned hard to claw their way back to the fleet. It was the right decision, and with a little luck might even distract the Ronin vessels, as they continued to rain deadly fire down on his ships.

With everything on his plate, as he fought to save his command, one could forgive Admiral Matevosian the crime of losing sight of the original threat...the enemy fleet...given the fact that as they closed in, they had ceased firing. They were showing no signs of slowing, in fact, they were actually increasing speed, but as they bored in their guns were silent.

And yet…something was happening with them.

As they drew closer, the enemy ships looked to be suspended within a thin cloud of glittering diamonds. How this pint-sized nebula was keeping pace with the enemy ships was anyone’s guess and given the more immediate threat the question wasn’t being asked.

Not that it would have mattered.

“...Damage report!” Azhum Ganakh shouted,

“Propulsion offline...weapons offline...life support is failing!” his Engineer yelled back. “Vanguard is finished, High Commander! We must abandon her!”

The confirmation of what he had already known were like a dagger to the heart. He wanted to save her, but the old girl was too far gone, and with the enemy fleet now chasing after the Tetrarchy Task Force, if he was going to move, he’d best do it now.

“...pass the word to all hands,” he said at last. “Those still alive are to transfer to our surviving ships. All shuttles are to expedite the transfer...priority to be given to the worst damaged vessels.” Azhum Ganakh set his jaw, as he rose to his full height. “I will transfer my flag to Furious, and once the evacuations are complete...the fleet will withdraw from the Gzuj system and make best speed to Dakik.”

The Engineer stared at him. “We are abandoning the system?”

“We have no choice!” the High Commander thundered. “If we remain here, we lose everything!” The other officer flinched at his anger, as Azhum Ganakh forced himself to throttle back his rage. “Should any of the civilian craft wish to join us,” he continued, in more temperate tones, “we will protect them as best we can...but that is all we can do.”

“...and the Tetrarchy ships?” the Engineer ventured.

It was difficult to meet the younger officer’s eyes. Azhum Ganakh turned his attention to the display, watching in dismay as the enemy pursued Matevosian Task Force.

“...they are on their own,” he said at last...choking on every word.

...they’re fighting dumb, Matevosian realized with a start. The Ronin Vipers weren’t even trying to dodge the returning fire from the rest of the Task Force...instead burning hard for the bulk of his fleet on a direct course, as their batteries went to rapid-fire. The incoming storm of antimatter was brutal, withering...but their own fusillade was tearing the Ronin apart. One cruiser exploded as its reactor went critical, but the others were still hanging on.

The enemy fleet was well within range, and yet they still held their fire. Were it not for the Vipers they would have his full attention but dividing his fire now would be a death sentence. He had to deal with the Ronin first.

The strange ships swept past his Task Force, as the strange cloud enveloping them seemed to reach out to his ships, lashing at them like tendrils of smoke. He braced for the worst...and stared in amazement as they swept past, to no effect.

“...what the Hell was that all about?” he demanded, as what remained of his squadron began mopping up the last of the rebel craft. They’d been savaged...but they weren’t out of this yet.

Matevosian turned his attention back to the Helmsman. “Come about,” he ordered, “and…”

The Ronin pilot rose from its chair without warning and pivoted, charging him with outstretched metallic arms.

“...Shit!” he yelped in shock, scrambling to get out of the machine’s way, but it tracked him with the precision of a bloodhound. One rating threw himself onto its back, wrestling with the out of control Ronin...only to have it reach back behind itself and grab his neck with both metallic hands, the fragile vertebrae shattering in its grasp as his body was hurled away.

The Bridge descended into chaos as the surviving crew struggled to fight the crazed automaton...or scurried to get out of its path. Matevosian backpedaled as the Ronin came after him...only to trip over the prone figure of another officer who’d been tossed aside. In the moment as it closed the distance, the two men struggled to disentangle from one another...only to look up in terror as the machine closed in for the kill.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The Ronin rocked on its heels as the Master-at-Arms fired her sidearm, again and again, driving the machine back as she placed one round after another where they would do the most damage. It collapsed to the deck, only to scuttle forward once again on its broken limbs as the Admiral lurched back to his feet.

The Petty officer stepped forward and jammed the pistol against the Ronin’s braincase, the metal sphere that housed its memories and personality...and fired. An ear-piercing screech filled the compartment like electronic feedback...as the machine fell back down to the deck, dark and inert.

“...What. The. Fuck?” Matevosian stammered in shock.

“...are you all right, Sir?” the Master-at-Arms asked, as she slapped in a fresh magazine. It took a moment for the question to register, but he managed a quick nod of thanks as he looked around the bridge. The Ronin had killed or wounded half a dozen crew before the Petty officer had put it down, and as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened...a horrifying thought came to him.

“...how many?” he demanded. His First officer blinked in confusion at the question. “How many more Ronin are there in the Task Force?” he demanded, as the XO realized what he was asking...and why.

“Christ...” he swore, racing to a console, only to have the Comm officer shout for his attention.

“Admiral...I’m getting reports throughout the fleet,” he got out. “The Ronin have gone crazy everywhere, and they’re…” He stopped talking as new reports flooded his earpiece...the blood draining from his face as he looked back up in alarm. “Sir...we’ve lost contact with Triton and Phoenix. Both ships just...went off the air.”

Matevosian and his First officer shared a sickened look. “Get me a visual,” he ordered, as they struggled to locate the errant vessels.

“...There,” his XO pointed after a moment. “They’ve changed course, now heading…” He ran the numbers through the Navigational array and swallowed. “Straight back to Tetrarchy space.”

“Jesus…” the Admiral whispered. “And the ships that attacked us?”

That took another few moments. “They’ve settled into orbit over Gzuj,” the XO informed him, “and it looks like they’re sending down shuttles to the planet surface.” He shook his head. “I don’t think they’re planning on leaving soon.”

The Admiral’s jaw clenched as he decided. “After those ships,” he commanded them. “If any of our remaining vessels can’t keep up, transfer the crew and scuttle them. We must now assume Triton and Phoenix to be hostile...and it’s up to us to stop them.”

“Yes Sir,” his First officer agreed.

“And then get me Marshal Fujimoto,” he said, “because if we can’t stop them, it’s up to her.”

“Yes, Sir...but they’re only a pair of cruisers,” the XO pointed out. “They could do some damage...but what we have still at home should be able to handle them.”

“That’s not what worries me,” Matevosian told him. “We don’t know what made them go crazy. What if it’s contagious? What if it can spread...like a virus?” He turned to face his First officer. “What if they landed...on a Ronin world? There are billions of Ronin in the Tetrarchy...and if that thing is a virus…”

His voice trailed off into silence, as dark visions filled his thoughts.