Chapter -8 Threshold of fire
Delta Sector Outpost 7, Imperial Periphery
The space depicted on the holographic display crackled with invisible tension. Five Red Scorpion vessels, silhouettes sharp against the starfield, breached the optimal firing range line. They advanced steadily, arrogance radiating even through the cold telemetry data.
"Scorpion frigates opening fire!" the sensor technician snapped, his voice tight. "Multiple energy discharges detected. Targeting appears… indiscriminate? Probing pattern confirmed."
Streaks of angry red plasma lance across the void on the display, aimed not at critical outpost systems but splashing harmlessly against the reinforced outer hull sections and the empty space between defensive platforms. A test of reaction time and shield strength.
"Impudent curs," Vorlag growled. "They think we're some backwater militia." He looked at Valerius. "Your recommendation holds? Let them waste their energy?"
Valerius nodded, his eyes tracking the incoming fire and the System's analysis. <
On the display, Delta-7 remained silent, its shields absorbing the probing shots with barely a flicker. The outpost felt like a coiled predator, refusing to be drawn by insignificant jabs.
The Scorpion commander, likely frustrated by the lack of reaction, changed tactics. One of the frigates surged forward slightly, launching a volley of kinetic impactors – dense slugs accelerated to relativistic speeds – aimed squarely at Orbital Defense Platform Alpha.
"Direct attack on Platform Alpha!" the weapons officer called out. "Impactors incoming!"
"That," Vorlag snarled, "crosses the line. Lieutenant Valerius, designate targets. Weapons Officer, authorize Platform Alpha and Battery Complex Gamma to return fire. Targeted solutions only. Make it count."
"Acknowledged," Valerius replied, his fingers flying across his console, translating the System's instant targeting solutions into command inputs. <
"Fire!" Vorlag commanded.
Space erupted. Brilliant beams of blue-white energy stabbed out from Platform Alpha, converging on the designated spot on the lead Scorpion frigate. Simultaneously, massive kinetic slugs launched from the ground-based Battery Complex Gamma, streaking through the void on precisely calculated trajectories.
The Scorpion frigate's shields flared violently where the pulse lasers hit, the specific harmonic Valerius targeted causing them to buckle erratically. Before they could stabilize, the kinetic slugs arrived, smashing through the weakened shield section like hammers through glass. Explosions blossomed silently on the frigate's hull near the port generator. It listed visibly, its energy signature fluctuating wildly as damage control klaxons likely shrieked across its bridge.
A cheer went up in the command center, quickly suppressed. Kaelen watched the display, a flicker of grudging respect crossing his features before being replaced by his usual stiffness.
The remaining four Scorpion vessels hesitated, their advance momentarily stalling. The swift, precise, and damaging response was clearly not what they had expected from a remote outpost.
Valerius felt the System register the shift. <
Moderate. Still not enough. He needed more pressure, a direct threat.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the damaged frigate, instead of retreating, vented plasma from its damaged engines and accelerated, angling directly towards the outpost command center's viewports. Its remaining forward cannons fired wildly, spitting desperate bolts of energy. It was a suicidal charge, or perhaps a final act of defiance aimed at taking out the command structure.
"Incoming! Direct attack vector!" the sensor tech yelled, raw panic edging his voice.
Vorlag swore, slamming his fist on the console. "All batteries, fire at will! Concentrate fire on that frigate! Shoot it down!"
Panic flared in the room. This was no longer a controlled exchange; it was a direct, potentially catastrophic assault. Valerius felt the raw fear, the adrenaline spike, and within him, something resonated powerfully. The building energy surged, pressing against the final barrier with immense force.
<
The System's alert blared in his mind, almost drowning out the external chaos. He felt it – a cracking, a shattering deep within his genetic core. The barrier was breaking!
But the frigate was still coming, impossibly fast, weapons firing. The outpost's combined defensive fire hammered its hull, tearing off chunks of armor, but its momentum seemed unstoppable.
"It's too close!" the weapons officer shouted. "Shields won't hold against point-blank impact!"
In that split second, as the threshold within him fractured, Valerius saw not through his eyes, but through the System's perfect analysis. A final, desperate firing solution. <
He didn't consciously give the order. His hand shot out, slamming onto a manual auxiliary control panel usually reserved for targeting small craft or debris. Ignoring standard protocols, overriding safety lockouts with System-assisted speed, he channeled the surging, newly unleashed energy within him – raw, potent, far exceeding his previous limits – directly into a focused kinetic pulse emitter on the hull section nearest the command tower.
A barely visible distortion rippled through space, faster than light, striking the charging frigate's underbelly. Not a massive blast, but a precise, incredibly forceful kinetic push.
The effect was instantaneous. The frigate's ventral thruster assembly, already stressed, buckled inwards with a silent shriek of tearing metal visible even on the display. Its trajectory instantly destabilized. Instead of plowing into the command center, it veered violently downwards, tumbling end over end, shedding debris, before crashing into the dusty plains several kilometers short of the outpost perimeter in a massive, fiery explosion that lit up the command center displays.
Silence fell, broken only by the distant rumble of the impact and the frantic reports from damage control assessing secondary debris strikes.
The remaining four Scorpion vessels, witnessing the suicidal charge and its abrupt, violent end, abruptly ceased fire. They held their positions for a long moment, then, as one, turned and began accelerating away, retreating back towards the asteroid field.
"They're running," someone whispered, disbelief in their voice.
Vorlag let out a shaky breath, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at the wreckage burning on the plains, then at Valerius, who stood rigidly by the auxiliary console, his hand still resting on the controls. "Lieutenant… what in the Emperor's name was that?"
Valerius slowly lowered his hand. He felt… transformed. The energy flowing within him was qualitatively different – denser, sharper, infused with a nascent connection to the very laws of force and space. The System Interface glowed with a new status:
<
He had done it. Amidst the fire and chaos, under direct threat, he had broken through. He was a Wargod.
"Compensatory kinetic pulse, Commander," Valerius said, his voice remarkably steady, betraying none of the seismic shift within him. "To destabilize its final approach vector. A calculated risk."
Vorlag stared at him, then at the auxiliary console, then back again, a complex mix of suspicion, relief, and awe in his eyes. He knew, Valerius suspected, that a standard M2 kinetic pulse shouldn't have been enough. But he couldn't prove anything.
"Calculated risk," Vorlag repeated slowly. He shook his head. "Report damage assessments. Track those retreating bogies. And someone get me a status report from Grid 11. The real fight might just be starting."
Valerius stood tall, feeling the nascent power of a Wargod coursing through him. The feint was broken. He had ascended. And now, the real game could begin.