Endless Path : Infinite Cosmos
chapter-1504

From within a circular room lined with sensors and display panels, a handsome man with flowing blonde hair stood somberly atop an elevated command platform. He was attired in a stylish white military dress uniform, complete with accents of gold. Pinned to his breast were more than twenty medals, neatly arranged, and highly polished. He was a veteran of many battlefields, and, though he had only recently become the Captain of his own vessel, a XM-Class Frigate, he was determined to distinguish himself further.

Within the same room as the Captain, known by his peers as Cyrus D. Kennedy, thirteen of his most trusted companions manned various consoles, each assigned an important duty intrinsic to the operation of their craft. Should they fail in their assigned tasks, the operational efficiency of their ship would suffer greatly, causing hiccups within the onboard computer that, in the heat of battle, could cost them greatly.

Like Captain Kennedy, each member of his crew had light hair colors, attractive features, and, most notably, angular ears framing a face set with striking blue eyes. They were each proud members of the Eternal Elfheim Empire, a well-respected affiliate of the Pangalactic Coalition of Unified Sovereign States. They were a proud and noble race who, under normal circumstances, carried themselves with the dignity expected of Officers of the Imperial Navy. This had earned them a considerable amount of respect and adulation from their peers, but, now, as if this pride had been nothing but an illusion, their eyes showed a considerable amount of fear and trepidation.

Though he masked it well, Captain Kennedy also felt uncharacteristically nervous, as, visible on the various monitors lining the room, a total of 173 enemy vessels could be seen. Their own side had a mere sixty-two vessels, and, though these were not insurmountable odds, it was the structure of the enemy ships which inspired fear. They, unlike the sleek and organic designs employed by the Eternal Elfheim Empire, were horrific vessels patchworked together from various conquered civilizations. The methods used in their construction made them appear to be demonic in nature, complete with sharp protrusions, angular frames, and paint jobs that were inspired by various predatory creatures.

The Pangalactic Coalition may be the most powerful and respected collective within the Geoserra Super Cluster, but, when it came to the most universally feared, they weren’t even in the top three. These positions belonged to the horrifyingly adaptive Primals, the mysterious and undefeated Nine Devas, and, most notoriously, the scourage of the Universe, the ’Freedom Armada’.

Despite its name, the Freedom Armada was essentially a gathering of vile and wicked Space Pirates, brigands who plundered entire worlds and waged endless wars against other factions. They ignored all existing treaties, extinguishing countless lives, and, worst of all, glassing the surfaces of more than a thousand conquered worlds just to prevent others from settling them. Their actions were what led to the formation of the Pangalactic Coalition itself, but, rather than be cowed, the Freedom Armada had openly declared war mere hours after the treaty had been signed.

Now, after the destruction of three of their frontier planets, the Eternal Elfheim Empire had sent its Flagship, the Yggdrasillia, accompanied by three Super Dreadnaughts, eleven Destroyers, twenty-two Corvette-Class Light Cruisers, five Heavy Frigates, and a complement of twenty support vessels. This was one of the most powerful force the Empire could spare without leaving its ’back’ exposed, as, in failed attempts to stop the Freedom Armada’s advance, many civilizations had lost their homeworld after sending an intercepting fleet. It only took a handful of ships to glass the surface of a world, so, with the Freedom Amada simply ignoring most rules of engagement, everyone aboard the Spear of Frey could only lament the depravity of their enemy...

While waiting for his orders from the Flagship, Captain Kennedy continued to stare solemnly at the onboard displays. The enemy had already heated their weapons batteries, so, at any given moment, sub-light plasma could be flung from the enemy vessel at more than 200,000km/s. By the time the systems detected the attack, it would already be hitting them, as, from the moment they saw the tell-tale sign of blue light, the plasma would have already reached them.

The only effective means to avoid enemy plasma and laser bombardment was to take advantage of the vast distances between ships, constantly moving around in order to overtax the opposition’s targetting computer. Unfortunately, despite this being well known, the Fleet Admiral had ordered their entire armada to maintain formation, protecting the thirteen-kilometer long Yggdrasillia, the ship that was supposed to be protecting them...

If he were in charge, Captain Kennedy would have used the Yggdrasillia as a lure, taking advantage of its ridiculous shields to draw enemy fire as the rest of the fleet split up to pick off enemy vessels. Staying in a formation was basically suicided, as, the moment a lob of plasma hit your shields, it was only a matter of time before it burned through. This was due to the fact that heat had a hard time siphoning away in the vacuum of space, allowing materials to retain their temperature. This was very useful when designing weapons, but, when you were on the receiving end of a plasma attack, you could only lament your misfortune...

As this thought crossed his mind, Captain Kennedy began to see ’illusions’ of the enemy firing their main guns. This caused his body to tense up, but, as no impact came, he knew it was just his nerves beginning to get to him. If the Admiral didn’t give an order soon, he might not be able to resist the urge to simply defect. It was better to live and fight another day than to die following the plan of a group of imbeciles who were better politicians than commanders...

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Captain Kennedy turned to his First Officer, a young woman with longer than average ears and a neatly arranged bun formed from her golden hair. This was one of the most popular hairstyles for females as of late, and, seeing how it accented her beauty, Captain Kennedy could understand why. Unfortunately, the one time he had asked her out, she wasted little time in quoting the Imperial Code of Justice, specifically referencing the conduct of Senior Officers.

Captain Kennedy wasn’t sure why this thought suddenly came to mind, but, as if they were on the same wavelength, the First Officer pushed up her glasses before lightly muttering, "If we both make it through this...I’ll take you up on that drink..."

As sound traveled pretty far within the Command Room, several other Officers laughed in response to the woman’s, Lieutenant Elissa’s, remark. Captain Kennedy was no exception, his tensions relaxing considerably as his laughter joined his subordinates. They were well aware of how grim this situation was, but, as this was the path they had chosen, there was little sense in laying blame. Rather, if they wanted to survive, it would require near-perfect cooperation, their minds and bodies moving like a singular, organic, being...

In the middle of his laughter, Captain Kennedy was alerted by a small ping in the back of his mind, indicating a comm line had been opened. This was something they all heard clearly, cooling the atmosphere on the bridge and returning everyone to a state of focus. Once they had all resumed their positions, Captain Kennedy gave a small nod, stating, "Go ahead and patch them through, First Lieutenant."

Following a curt response from the young man at the comms station, the central display monitor experienced a momentary flicker, transitioning from a view of the battlefield to a proud-looking man with leaf-green hair nearly reaching his lower back. His features even made the members of Captain Kennedy’s crew seem average in comparison, especially with his ornate military dress and the crown of golden branches adorning his temples.

With machine-like precision, Captain Kennedy immediately saluted the man’s image, earning a very small nod of approval before the man said, "Detailed instructions have already been sent to your onboard computer. You will direct your vessel to the coordinates listed before engaging the enemy fleet. As you are undoubtedly aware, this is not a battle we can hope to win. It brings me shame to admit, but, even if we prayed to the Great Spirit for protection, this would still become our shared grave. However, to protect what we must, there is no path of retreat left. An evacuation order has already been issued, so, in order to ensure the greatest number of survivors, we must fight and hold the enemy here."

As the man spoke, a complex battle simulation began to display within Captain Kennedy’s vision. His vessel, like many others, had effectively been assigned to go on a suicide run. They were expected to charge into enemy lines like common foot soldiers, taking out as many ships as possible before their own was ultimately destroyed. To make matters even worse, the battle strategy didn’t show the path of the Yggdrasillia, a sure sign that the Flagship would be beating a hasty retreat soon after the fight began.

Clenching his teeth with enough force to cause pain in his molars, Captain Kennedy did his best to maintain a neutral expression as he promptly saluted and answered, "Understood! Eternal Glory to the Elfheim Empire...!"

Without even bothering to salute in turn, the green-haired man gave an almost indiscernible nod before his image flickered out. This left the bridge eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the persistent whirring of distant machinery and the subtle sound of the environmental control system.

Seeing the looks his crew was sending toward him, Captain Kennedy felt like he had somehow failed them. Despite this, he maintained the calmest countenance he could manage, stating, "We have our orders. As unpleasant as they may be, there are people counting on us. The enemy outnumbers our fleet nearly three-to-one. I’m expecting us to take out at least four ships before we get eliminated. It might not matter to those bastards up top, but we still have our pride to uphold."

Though they weren’t exactly motivated by their Captain’s words, everyone on the bridge gave him a proper salute before manning their posts once again. Then, after a series of deep breaths, the pilot, a young woman with somewhat wild hair, began to slowly propel the ship forward along, joining the suicide charge of more than half their fleet...

Almost immediately after their ship began its advance, the enemy vessels sprung to life, their crude engines releasing hazy blue exhaust into the cold void of space. Their surfaces began to glow with the tell-tale signs of an energy shield, and, from within the vicious maw-like cannons lining the hull of their ships, massive lobs of superheated plasma began tearing through space, promising death and destruction to anything unfortunate enough to be struck.

Fortunately, the weapons systems of the Freedom Armada were several generations behind the average Coalition vessel. Though their plasma projectiles could travel upwards of 200,000km/s, the vast distance between vessels meant it could take several seconds to hit a target. In that time, their position would have changed completely, requiring advanced systems to predict how your enemy would move. This required an incredible amount of processing power, as, while it might be a simple feat to target planets and asteroids, hitting ships traveling anywhere between 10~30% the speed of light was ’exceptionally’ difficult...

Seeing superheated plasma pass within the periphery of the monitors, Captain Kennedy felt like he could feel it singing his skin. They had missed by several kilometers, but, all things considered, that was actually a ’very’ close first volley. Fortunately, plasma weapons took a long time to charge, so, for a brief moment, their ship was able to pass through the rain-like laser fire, their own weapons now white-hot.

The Spear of Frey was equipped with three primary plasma cannons, seven-hundred laser batteries, and twelve torpedo bays. It also had a total of sixty Interceptors, single-man crafts, and a seventeen Mechs, humanoid vehicles that were generally used for precision strikes on stationary facilities. This was a rare payload for most Frigates, but, as this was his first ship after obtaining his coveted rank, Captain Kennedy had sunk his entire fortune into outfitting it. Now, he somewhat regretted his past decision, but, considering the circumstances, having more firepower was better than having less...

As the targeting algorithm displayed a value over seventy percent, indicating the accuracy of their weapons, Captain Kennedy wasted no time in shouting, "Set a delay of twenty seconds between the firing of each cannon. I want no more than a minute of downtime before we have enough charge to sink one of these despots!"

Following his order, both Weapons Officers answered in acknowledgment as the frontmost cannon released a massive blob of superheated plasma. This caused their own shields to ripple slightly, but, compared to the devastation it could cause, a loss in shield integrity was a small price to pay.

Due to the rapidly shrinking distance, the Spear of Frey was able to land a direct hit on an enemy ship, a crude vessel that looked vaguely like a fish with saw-like teeth. The plasma had cut into the aft section of the ship, enveloping the barrier like sticky molasses. As a result, it phase-shifted from blue to after just six seconds, dealing crippling damage to the rear thrusters. Because of this, it was left virtually helpless when, fourteen seconds later, another blob of plasma tore through it, this time without any obstruction.

Seeing the enemy ship destroyed, Captain Kennedy could feel a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, forcing a smile to his face. Unfortunately, before he could even commend his Weapons Officer for a job well done, a massive impact jarred everyone within the bridge. A loud hissing sound could be heard as, for a brief moment, all of their systems flickered out. Though they rebooted less than a second later, the lighting in the room had shifted from a gentle blue to a cautionary red as a steady stream of ice-cold vapor began to flow from the damage environmental control system.

Resisting the urge to swear, Captain Kennedy cried out, "Damage report!" in a commanding tone. This was enough to break his crew from their stupor, allowing the Engineering Officer to report, "We took a grazing blow to the port side. Shields are holding at seventy percent but a large amount of electromagnetic radiation managed to seep into our systems. Ninety-two laser batteries have been taken offline and ECS is in critical condition. Repairs are underway, but it will take four hours before everything is back online!"

Hearing the report, Captain Kennedy shook his head, stating, "Belay repairs. We don’t have one hour, much less four. Have our men sortie before the launch bays suffer too much damage. Keep firing at the closest enemy ship. Do not let these bastards have the satisfaction of taking us without a fight!"

Following their Captain’s orders, everyone aboard the bridge continued to work swiftly, even as the temperature gradually dropped below freezing levels. They knew this was their last hurrah, so, even as their eyelashes began to develop ice crystals, they continued working diligently. As a result, they were able to eliminate a total of five ships, crippling three and destroying two before their own was listing through space without auxiliary power and thrusters. They had effectively become a very fast-moving rock, hurling through space at nearly 40,000km/s...

By all rights, their ship should have been destroyed in the battle, but, as if it refused to go down so easily, the Spear of Frey had even survived a plasma strike that tore away more than twenty percent of their mass. This elicited a light chuckle from Captain Kennedy, who, with what little remained of his strength, began to pin in the self-destruct codes into his command console. He would not let his ship be scuttled and scavenged by the Freedom Armada, so, before they could invade and murder what remained of his crew, he intended to destroy it completely...

Just as his finger was about to reenter the code a second time, confirming the destruction of his pride and joy, Captain Kennedy gave one last look at his crew, new little more than frozen corpses still manning their consoles. They had fought well, and, after this, he intended to meet up with them at the Central Hub to discuss how things had gone. If possible, he would like to team up with them in other games, preferably one without a toxic community like the so-called Freedom Armada...

Shaking his head, Captain Kennedy began to pin in the self-destruct sequence one final time. His finger then hovered over the ’Confirm’ option, nearly pressing it when a large flash of golden light suddenly flooded the only functional display. This brought his attention away from the transparent panel that only he could see, his eyes turning round as saucers when he saw the scene playing out before him...

Aboard the illustrious Flagship of the Elfheim Empire, the Rank 27 Player, Magnus Alpha Illustri had an expression that could only be described as ’someone who had eaten shit’. His handsome face had been twisted into a sickening scowl, as, blocking his path of retreat, a larger-than-average mech with wings of golden light dominated the center display. It was only 8m tall, an ant in comparison to the 13km long Yggdrasillia, but, as if their positions were reversed, the predominately white mech stood in their line of retreat without moving.

Before he could even curse his fate or shout out any order, Magnus nearly bit the tip of his tongue as a powerful shockwave ran through his ship. Immediately afterward, several more display came to life, each depicting one of five masterfully designed mechs, each equipped with armaments that no other player had been able to acquire. One, designed to look similar to a woman with fox-like ears and three tails, even wielded a staff that, against all rhyme and reason, was able to create massive spears of ice and even larger balls of flame...

Magnus, feeling as though he had smashed his face into a metal plate, regained his balance before shouting, "I don’t care if people say they are unbeatable! Sortie all the troops! Fire all the cannons! I swear, if I lose my rank over this, I’m blacklisting you all fr-"

Interrupting Magnus’ exclamation, a golden ’ripple’ appeared above him, producing an 8m tall Mech with a white base, golden accents, and six angular wings formed from golden light. In its right hand, it wielded a bident formed of pale gold, and, at a glance, everyone who saw this figure would liken it to a God of War. Unfortunately, among high-level players, the existence of this mech was akin to the Harbinger of Death...

As if it was searching for something, the mech looked around the bridge for a brief moment before looking down at Magnus, who, upon seeing the legendary figure, lost feeling in his legs. Then, after remaining silent for several seconds, the mech pointed its bident toward Magnus’ throat, surprising everyone by how dexterous the act was. After all, few people could pilot a mech with any finesse, so, seeing someone able to lightly prick a person’s neck, despite using a massive weapon, it was a sight to behold.

With a deep voice that caused everyone within the bridge to lose hope, the mech plainly stated, "You are unworthy of your position. Sacrificing your men in order to preserve your own life...you are not fit to rule..."

Hearing the voice rebuke him, Magnus’ expression turned even dourer than before. He attempted to rise to his feet in order to face the mech directly, but, the moment this thought crossed his mind, he experienced a sense of incredulity as his perspective began to spin. Then, after a painful impact, his eyes widened for a very brief moment as he saw his own body slouched a few meters away. The last thing he saw before being ejected from the game was the image of the ’Deva of Light’ producing a rapidly growing sun from the palm of his hand...

(A/N: Alternate Titles: ’This...is this still EPIC?’,’One final hurrah...!’,’Arena Closers have spawned’)