38. Annihilation Campaign
38. Annihilation Campaign
The decoy mine ship, already floating in a ring around Planet Epsilon Ia, numbered twelve in total.
Having arrived from the zenith of the star system, the Zeno—guided by its known behavioral patterns—was expected to move next to the neighboring Epsilon II system. Accordingly, multiple hyperlane gates had been established in the opposite direction, allowing the main fleet to rapidly deploy behind the Zeno.
Scout Ship EP-0011.
"Plasma gas is beginning to erupt from various points on the surface of Epsilon Ia."
It’s started. A sign of the Zeno’s renewed activity, no doubt. Epsilon Ia, once a glowing sphere of incandescent light, has seen its surface layer cool over the past two years—now tinged with red. The molten state remains unchanged, however. Plasma gas is now erupting from various points across the surface, arcing toward the asteroid ring encircling the planet, accompanied by electrical discharges.
——Planet Epsilon Ia: Plasma emissions confirmed from multiple surface locations. High probability of Zeno reactivation.
"Contact the fleet flagship Inspire directly. Confirm signs of Zeno reactivation."
Right now, I’m seated in the command chair of the flagship Inspire’s central operations room, preparing for whatever comes next. All personnel have been assigned. The goal remains absolute destruction of the Zeno. Perfect.
As the flagship, the central operations room housed numerous operators—each assigned to direct squadrons and individual vessels within the subordinate fleet. In addition, given the command responsibility for two hundred supply motherships, a significant number of operators were stationed there as well, making the command center large, yet uncomfortably cramped.
“Scout vessel EP-0011, monitoring Planet Epsilon Ia, has detected signs of Zeno’s reactivation.”
“Sir, transmit the message to the entire fleet.”
Admiral Amanda, commanding the aerospace forces, was serving temporarily as my deputy for this operation. Ain stood just behind and to my left.
“Zeno’s reactivation has been confirmed. All fleet units proceed immediately through the hyperlane gate into the Eridanus Epsilon I System. Eliminate the Zeno.”
The words were prepared in the style of the famous fleet departure message penned by Admiral Kōzō Akizuki—then a lieutenant commander—during the Battle of the Japan Sea, though this time, since we’re not on the ocean, there are no waves, and since we’re in space, weather is irrelevant, so the final dramatic flourish had to be dropped. In the end, it came out as a dull, uninspired mess.
The ships of the Second, Third, and Fourth Fleets were drawn into the hyperlane gate one by one. The rear guard—the one holding up the rear—was my First Fleet.
Two hours after all vessels passed through the hyperlane gate, deployment in the Eridanus Epsilon I System was complete. The Second, Third, and Fourth Fleets formed a triangle ahead, with the First Fleet positioned at the apex of a triangular pyramid, its base aligned with the triangle formed by the forward fleets. The Second Fleet, designated to deliver the first strike, was slightly advanced within this formation.
“All fleets, accelerate to maximum combat speed toward Eridanus Epsilon Ia.”
“Inspire, maximum combat speed!”
The fleet emerged from the hyperlane gate at a point approximately five astronomical units from Planet Epsilon Ia—a distance requiring two and a half hours at maximum combat speed, which is thirty percent of light speed. If Zeno detached from Epsilon Ia at fifteen percent of light speed, it would take double that time—five hours—to be intercepted.
“EP-0011 reporting. Zeno has begun departure from Epsilon Ia. Synchronized with EP-0011’s observation satellite. Initiating count of Zeno’s departure from the planet.”
“Sir, it has begun. All fleets maintain maximum combat speed and proceed to intercept Zeno.”
Admiral Amanda spoke, her eyes fixed on the forward screen, explaining as if narrating a domestic chore.
“Looks like the decoy mine vessel has initiated interception.”
“Multiple high-intensity neutron beams detected. Several Zeno units have been destroyed. Commencing destruction count.”
"Would be nice to take out as many decoy mine vessels as possible."
...
"All observation satellites above Epsilon Ia have lost signal."
"Decoy mine vessel DM-0001 signal lost, mass dispersion confirmed. Appears destroyed..."
"Decoy mine vessel DM-0007 signal lost, mass dispersion confirmed. All decoy mine vessels lost."
"Total Zeno destroyed: 725,000."
"Probability of Zeno advance toward Epsilon II: over 98 percent."
"Remaining Zeno: 2.4 million."
Significantly reduced, it seems. Would have liked two or three more decoy mine vessels, but the supply logistics with the mother vessel made the required anti-matter quantity for mutual annihilation unavailable. Well, this will do.
"How much longer until capture is possible?"
"Four hours."
"Timing of the attack squadron's launch is up to you."
...
"Distance between the rear of the Zeno group and the leading Second Fleet: 0.5 AU."
"Observation drones will launch from each fleet’s flagship."
To maintain an accurate picture of the combat situation, drones departed from the flagships, heading toward the Zeno group.
"…Distance between the rear of the Zeno group and the leading Second Fleet: 0.4 AU."
"It appears the Zeno have been captured within the attack range of the Second Fleet’s strike wings. No signs that the Zeno have detected us. Let the fleet close in a bit more. We’ll dispatch special operations craft ahead of the strike force."
I’d resolved not to interfere with the strategy, so I simply nodded in response to Major Amanda’s voice.
Sixty-four specialized assault craft—four per standard capital ship, drawn from a fleet of sixteen—launched from their motherships. Each craft carried a single specialized munition, designed to be fired into the rear of the Zeno collective. The munitions, grouped in fours, would pass through the Zeno formation from rear to front. Four units were grouped together so that the gravitational wells generated by each munition’s gravitic thrusters could overlap, amplifying thrust efficiency.
“...All specialized craft have launched their munitions. Executing turn-back maneuver. All munitions proceeding normally.”
“The Zeno collective’s distribution pattern is shifting—spherical convergence underway. Transitioning to spindle form.”
“Sir, the second phase of the operation is proceeding as planned, wouldn’t you say?”
Seems my idea actually came in handy. The specialized munition launched by the special operations craft was a cylindrical mass—forty meters long, five meters in diameter, extremely heavy—constructed entirely from the same material as the ship’s hull. Inside, just a gravity thruster for propulsion and the mechanisms needed to operate it. By allowing the munition to overtake the Zeno collective, and having the Zeno pursue it, we managed to compress the formation into a more elongated shape.
“...Distance between the rear of the Zeno collective and the Second Fleet: 0.25 AU.”
Major Amanda nodded in my direction.
“Launch all attack groups.”
Ten million combat units—each unit consisting of a single manned assault craft accompanied by eight unmanned drones—streamed out into space like smoke, a total of ninety million assault craft, launching to annihilate the two hundred and eighty million Zeno units.
Seventy-five thousand combat units, totaling 675,000 craft, launched from the second, third, and fourth fleets, closing in from behind the vast, vertically stretched Zeno formation.
The first strike came from the second fleet—twenty-five thousand combat units, 225,000 craft—firing simultaneously, six guided anti-annihilation missiles per unit, totaling over 1.3 million warheads, launched at a diagonal angle from behind the Zeno cluster.
Millions of guided missiles struck one after another, detonating sequentially from the rear of the Zeno cluster to the last Zeno, their annihilation reactions flooding the combat space from back to front. Though individual Zeno units were vanishing, scattering neutron radiation in their wake, hundreds of manned assault craft were exposed to the intense neutron flux—yet, because the duration was brief and unmanned attack drones had sacrificed themselves to shield the manned ones from further exposure, no manned craft had been destroyed thus far. The Zeno cluster, having lost more than a third of its formation—now concentrated in the rear—continued its advance toward Epsilon II as if nothing had happened.
At the precise moment the combat-space flash and turbulence from the first-wave anti-missile counter-reactions subsided, five hundred thousand combat units—four hundred fifty thousand craft—fired two million seven hundred thousand counter-reaction guided missiles from the Third and Fourth Fleets, striking the Zeno cluster without pause. When the blinding flash of the counter-reaction—so intense it seemed to burn the fabric of space itself—faded, fewer than one hundred thousand Zeno remained.
Then, from the First Fleet, twenty-five thousand combat units—twenty-two thousand five hundred craft—launched the final volley of counter-reaction guided missiles, raining down upon the surviving Zeno cluster.
On the monitor before me, the destruction count of the Zeno and our own damage statistics, as recorded by the observation drones, were displayed.
Zeno destroyed: 3,124,124
Piloted Attack Units: 0 (1,286 units exposed to high-intensity neutron radiation, sustaining minor damage — classified as "minor hit")
Unmanned Attack Units: 1,162 (lost as shields protecting piloted units from direct high-intensity neutron beam strikes)
Special Operations Units: 0
Standard Carrier: 0
Supply Carrier: 0
Light Cruiser: 0
Destroyer: 0
Heavy Cruiser: 0
Mine Layer: 12
No personnel casualties. Perfect. This outcome was possible only because of two years of meticulous preparation. But what if the Zeno had numbered ten million? Or a hundred million? Only by sheer luck did the reconnaissance vessel EP-0011 detect the Zeno in time, allowing us to respond offensively. Had we been forced into a purely defensive posture, facing the enemy with our backs to a planet, the result would have been different.
The sooner Zeno is discovered, the more urgently we must press forward with exploration along the shortest interstellar path—
"Operation concluded. All attack craft, return to base."
Colonel Amanda, please expedite the containment of the malfunctioning unit.
Everyone, well done. Good work.
At Agirakana, unmanned observation stations were completed in succession, each placed along the straight line connecting a star to its nearest neighboring star. The range of the surveillance net gradually expanded.
There is no sign of Zeno in the vicinity of the Solar System—at least for now.
Wasting energy on a Zeno worth around three million is a slow bleed—perfect victory, achieved.