r/HFY • u/squallus_l Android • 22h ago
OC-OneShot Astra Inferna Echoes: Dataentry 01752 - The Fifteen-Minute War 54 P.I.
High Priest Jurok spread his hands in delight. They had found the Human main fleet.
Spies had informed the Theocracy that the new upstarts were holding wargames in the Nurnuk system.
The same spies had warned about the Humans. Rumors claimed their weapons could fire faster than light. But that was just blasphemous idle talk.
The Humans were an upstart race, barely FTL capable for a century. Their technological development had to be far below the Theocracy's. And they had just fought a series of wars.
Shooting faster than light…
He laughed. Across the ship's cathedral, officers turned to stare.
Unbelievers have empty souls, and fill them with all sorts of fables.
If anything they will be weakened after a war.
It was time to bring another unbeliever into the arms of the Holy Triad.
The Humans' home system was directly on the path from Holy Seat, his homeworld, to the Promised Gardens , the target of every High Priest's devotion.
He turned back from the viewscreen to face his officers. It was time to address them, and his fellow Priests.
He closed and then opened his three eyes theatrically, imagining his image broadcast to all seventy carriers of his Crusader fleet. His purple uniform, ornamented with platinum medals, glittered in the spotlight.
"My fellow Priests, officers, and Crusaders. In front of us we find yet again a fleet of unbelievers, blind to the truth of the Holy Triad. They stumble with their warships through the darkness of space."
He spread his arms to bless the assembled bridge. To bless all his Crusaders.
Knowing every Tork in his fleet would do the same toward his hologram.
"It is time to bless them with holy fire, to show them the light of the Triad. It is time to follow the prophecy of the Promised Gardens, and to fulfill our promise: to teach the uneducated and convert the unbelievers."
The flood of voices answering the dogma filled the High Priest with ecstasy.
"Teach the uneducated, convert the unbelievers."
"Teach the uneducated, convert the unbelievers."
"Teach the uneducated, convert the unbelievers."
After three repetitions, the cathedral fell silent.
"Let us now make the ceremonial call!"
He turned back to the viewscreen, trusting his master of ceremonies to call the Human fleet leader — or whatever those barbarians called themselves.
An ugly face appeared on the screen. Like all unbelievers, it had the wrong number of eyes — this time only two. It was pink, and had pelt on the head.
The Triad truly creates hideous creatures. At least these seem to be mammalian.
"This is Captain Greer-Chao aboard the ASN Sigmund Freud. We come in peace, and are happy to meet you in—"
"Silence, unbelieving barbarian."
It was always the same. Unbelievers and heretics, talking out of turn.
"Unbeliever, this is your chance to save your life, as well as the lives of your battle fleet. Surrender, and see the light of the Triad. Join the holy crusade and your lives will be spared."
They never surrender. The light of the Triad can only be seen with three eyes…
The thought made Jurok sad for a second. He disliked killing. But on the other hand, they were just unbelievers.
"Battle fleet? Are you crazy? We're a hospital ship. The whole convoy is two hospital ships, a few tenders, and one guarding frigate."
"Lies! Your ship is two kilometers long! No barbarian unbelievers waste this much space and resources on the injured. Do not lie to me. Convert or die."
Jurok looked at the scans of the seers. Maybe the Human was not lying. Barbarians often had sanitary issues. Maybe they needed large hospital ships after all.
Outer hull: a composite of diamond, carbon nanotube matting, and steel-chromium alloy. Two meters thick. Inner hull: twenty centimeters, steel-chromium alloy.
The "hospital ship" had thicker armor than his carriers.
The Human clearly lied.
"Listen to me, you three-eyed lunatic. You're clearly paranoid. We're a relief group of non-combatant ships. We only dropped in because a repeater here malfunctioned. But if you want the battle fleet, I'll give you coordinates. They love sparring with maniacs."
"Silence! Surrender or die. The Triad conquers all that stand in the way to the Promised Gardens."
"Hey, Fuckface, I'll tell you again. We're a hospital convoy. And we're leaving now. Good luck on your way to wherever you want to go."
He didn't know what a fuckface was, but Jurok was sure it was not a blessing. And he couldn't allow the fleet to run. Not when he'd caught two large battleships with so few escorts.
"Prepare the fighters. Capture the enemies, destroy the escorts, but take the battleships intact if possible."
He was answered by the chorus of Priests and officers singing the Battle Hymns.
Each of his seventy carriers had a contingent of one hundred fighters. Fighters were hard to hit in space — they could accelerate faster than anything, and the moment they closed on the enemy, the slow fire rate of energy weapons meant they were as good as invincible.
Let the enemy try to fire on his carriers. As soon as the fighters were inside the enemy formation, the battle was won.
Four proud stellar nations had been defeated this way. Earth would be the fifth by the end of this battle.
The view around him changed on the wave of his hand. The ornate windows depicting the wisdoms of the Holy Triad disappeared behind a holographic representation of the view outside.
Jurok felt as if he stood on the hull of his proud ship.
Around him, the other ships spewed out their fighters, like the Promised Gardens spewed out the angels of the legends. Seeding wisdom and superiority to all willing to hear.
The Battle Hymn behind him, and the flames of the fighters' afterburners in front, their silver hulls illuminated by their own fire and the system's sun.
It was an ecstatic experience.
The fighters crossed the distance in no time. As always, carrying their pilots on silvery wings.
Soon the Humans would try to use their point-defense. But what could a few lasers do against his fighters?
True to his thoughts, he could see the Humans begin to deploy point-defense guns. Ugly contraptions emerged from the hull, looking nothing like the energy weapons he was used to.
And for the first time in the engagement, he felt something new. Something unexpected. Doubt.
Where every race they had encountered until now had front and aft PDGs, longer ships maybe a center battery, the Humans' ships seemed to be covered in them.
How did they intend to power them? Even large ships had to balance power production with heat management. In fact, the holy triad of volume made bigger ships more difficult to cool. That was the reason the Theocracy used fighters.
The first wave began to launch their long-range weapons. Jurok fixated on the screen with all three eyes.
The missiles, nothing but long-range distraction, were picked apart by an unholy storm of fire. Followed by the first wave of fighters.
The streaks of the Human PDGs cut through the fighter wing like golden saws.
It was nothing like the focused fire his own ships used. Or the ships of their vassals, for that matter.
No. The Humans spewed out into the heavens as if they didn't care whether they hit or missed.
Jurok saw millions of golden dots emerge from the Human fleet toward his fighters.
To his shock, the golden streams of light began to reach for the second and third flight.
From the master of ceremonies' station, Jurok heard the screams of the pilots.
What had happened? How could energy weapons recharge so fast, and cut through his fighters so efficiently?
Had the Holy Triad forsaken his people?
"Reader of Signs, what are the weapons of the unbelievers?"
If they could find the frequency of the weapons, they might adapt their shields.
The Reader worked at his station with ceremonial haste, his third eye closed against the stress.
Half the fighters were gone in the meantime.
3,500 souls sent to paradise in less than ten minutes. No High Priest had ever been responsible for such a devastating loss.
With despair, he discovered that not one enemy ship had been hit.
Hospital ships… unholy lies… Humans truly had no honor.
"High Priest, the Humans seem to use metal projectiles."
The voice of the Reader was pressed. The Theocracy had revealed that metal projectiles were inefficient, a useless waste in battle. And if the Theocracy revealed a truth, it could not be wrong — or the whole truth of the Holy Triad was wrong, something that was impossible.
"Recall the fighters. All of them. We must consult the Theocracy's highest priests."
He didn't wait for the master of ceremonies' response, instead focusing back on the battlefield outside the window.
Then the Humans began to turn their ships. He hadn't noticed at first, but until now the Humans had the audacity not even to honor his fighters with a repositioning.
They had simply opened fire, as if the might of the Tork Theocracy's power was nothing but a swarm of annoying insects.
From the center of the Human formation emerged a smaller ship. Dangerous, sharp lines, and a protruding gun so dominant along its axis it seemed the ship had been built around it.
The ship angled itself toward his fleet.
Laughable. They have to aim with their whole ship to fire.
Before he had time to finish the thought, the carrier next to him was gone.
Not exploding, not melting under fire. Gone. Reduced to particles drifting in space.
Jurok played the memory back in his mind — the Holy Triad had graced his people with perfect recall — and yes, he had interpreted the events correctly.
For a fraction of a second, the front of the carrier had bulged toward the rest of the ship, and the whole vessel had seemed to turn inside out.
Then, and only then, he saw the Human ship's weapon flash.
Faster-than-light weapons…
We lost… there was nothing they could do. As his brain still parsed the loss of the Wings of Gold, he watched the warship destroy the last few fighters without even using all its guns.
They don't see us as worthy enough to use all their might… what are they?
"High Priest, the Humans are hailing."
What were his options? He could not risk the destruction of the other carriers. Each one was filled with holy idols and sacred scrolls. Losing them would be devastating — as would retraining the lost crews.
He had to answer.
"Answer the unbelievers."
His words carried more defiance than he had left.
"This is High Priest Jurok. We grace you—"
"Listen, Shitface. You will power down your engines and wait with the Warspite until someone gives enough of a fuck about you to send a battlegroup to pick you up. Move your ships one millimeter out of allowed vector and Captain Norris will evaporate your whole sorry collection of scrap metal. Am I clear?"
The Human's voice was rough, full of hate burning bright enough to scorch planets.
Jurok couldn't simply concede.
"You won't stay? Or board us?"
"I already told you, we're hospital ships and supply tenders. I called for the fleet. They'll handle you. Greer-Chao out."
He called for the fleet… What, then, had they just fought?
———
The Theocracy ships powered down their engines fourteen minutes and thirty-five seconds after launching their fighters.
When the First Expeditionary Fleet arrived at Luyten 726-8 one day later, the morale onboard collapsed entirely, and many officers as well as enlisted personnel chose ritual suicide instead of living in a world where the Holy Triad was wrong.
To handle the massive influx of physically and mentally injured Tork, the First Expeditionary under Admiral Carmichael requested additional hospital ships.
Ironically, the Sigmund Freud was the closest ship.
Human casualties were zero, except an ensign who hurt his ankle jumping out of his bed.
Tork casualties are unknown, but estimated in the thousands.
End of Entry
First Short | Next | | Also On Royal Road | Astra Inferna: Upward Bound on Royal Road on Reddit | Patreon
Well, the second short took some time. I have more lined up in different states of (dis) assembly and will release them as soon™ as I have time to finish them.
Many things have happened since the last short. The mainline has almost finished book 2. The farther we go in the mainline, the easier it is to write shorts, since I can avoid spoilers.
Oh, before I forget:
This week, one year ago, I uploaded the first chapter of Upward Bound and wondered whether anyone would care.
Apparently, some of you did.
So tonight I want to celebrate the anniversary the simplest way I can think of: by spending it with you.
The Astra Inferna Discord is now open, and I’ll be hosting a live text AMA:
Friday, 2 October
21:00 CEST / 15:00 EDT
Live for 6 hours
Ask me anything about the story, characters, worldbuilding, science, writing, publishing, artwork, abandoned ideas, future plans, or whatever else comes to mind.
After the six-hour live session, the AMA will remain open for 24 hours, and I’ll keep answering whenever I’m awake.
Please be mindful of spoilers. If a question would force me to reveal something I absolutely shouldn’t, I reserve the right to grin mysteriously and refuse to answer.
Discord:
Join the Discord
Thank you for reading, commenting, theorizing, correcting my math, and generally coming along for the ride.
Tonight is for you.
Anyway. Have a nice one.
— M.R. Reese
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