Swirling, shaking, ever downward, ever spiraling. Gravity pulling at their very essences as the fall they undertook gained speed upon them. The world below growing at an incredible pace as the skies swept past them.
The three Implicatorian battleships. Hulls gleaming in the morning glow, innumerable little turrets rolling forwards towards their foe, formed together in a triangle. Their bellies faced towards each other, each one spiraling with the other.
The Uppington Crush was an old strategic form, that was often only viable when the odds of survival were equal to the amount of innocent people in the universe.
In short, zero.
The collateral explosions that echoed through the flagship Implicatorian, sent message to the Superior Captain, of someone fleeing with the Admiral's transport.
Maybe the Rebel Battalion truly had planted instigators in their midst.
But regardless, her target was clear. And the burning city all to bright.
An officer hailed her, and pointed out the three lumbering craft that surged upward through the atmosphere with determined might. Star-Charter Transport ships. No doubt ladened with refugees...
Her prime defensive objective now.
But, the only way to defend them. Was to Uppington Crush this damnable fleet.
Of whom's Ferolder, was already flaring it's Galzion Mega Cannons towards her force.
Four huge barrels of Steel-Titanium alloy, mixed with refined lead mesh. A stadium in length, a city's worth of fire. All too opposing, even for her gall.
Regardless, the order was sound. GO.
The one Dementer class warship to its east, along with it's full complement of Sintinators and Rippers, began to tilt onto their sides. Rotating their craft in, towards the great Ferolder.
Almost perpendicular to the ground below.
Splinter Refraction...
This captain was trained. Well trained...
Her reformed strategy called for an Upington Cover.
The cry rang out across the fleet. Formation updated.
The entire force now expanded, rapidly. Their goal to form a circle of diameter large enough to cover the enemy, with the three Implicatorians still staying close together in a similar triangular formula. The vast complement of Dalkon Corvettes and Ripper cruisers spreading across the sky like a cloud.
Like clockwork, the fleet below began to rotate and swerve, the Ferolder itself maintaining it's course as its fleet curved over to cover it.
Sorien Flush.
She took it back.
This captain was excellent.
Ysabell Formallion!
Was the new fresh formation update.
The whole force reforming itself into a heptagonal triangle mesh. Each Implicatorian splitting off into their cloud of respective ships.
But the atmospheric gap between the two forces had closed.
This would be the final form.
...
Silence...
Nothing but silence as the two forces approached the last seconds before being within Practical Range.
And as the faint and rejected VaID communication request began to blare.
Could she say no to this any longer?
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Science FictionAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
