Disclaimer-
"Tenchi Muyo" characters were created by Hiroki Hayashi and Masaki Kajishima, and are the property of AIC and Geneon Entertainment.
A wide array of the weapons that will be mentioned in this fic are stemmed from the game Phantasy Star Online. They are created by, and are the property of, the Sega Sonic team.
The Space Marine army is found in WarHammer 42K, and is the property of Games Workshop.
I make no claims to any of these things, much less am I profiting from them. That being said, please don't sue me.
Author's notes (Not pertinent, so skip if you wish
Though this fanfiction could technically be considered a cross-over, I am making quite possibly the MILDEST references to secondary works, vexing me to label it as such, thus I won't. Dub it what you will, but it is to remain 'Regular'.
If you find yourself with a question concerning 'how' they were tied together, it will do you better to bear in mind that my intention was to author a tastefully written 'Action' fanfiction--that was about it.
For the meager amount of artillery or vehicles that I create myself, I have given nicknames, such as 'Wasp' and 'Swarm'. If you do not believe it is a fitting name, or, God forbid, it turned out to be the alias of an 'actual' weapon or vehicle, I offer my sincere apologies in advance. This fanfiction takes place shortly following the Tenchi Universe series, I'm afraid that's all I can tell you concerning the continuity.
This fic was inspired (and slightly educated) by admiraltigerclaw's "Flight of the Hastings" and Thomas Doscher's "Destiny's balance".
Fic start
Chapter one- "Of missile-launchers, laser cannons and Australian accents."
-The milky way Galaxy, a short distance out of the planet Earth's atmosphere-
"What lies before us and what lies behind us is little compared to what lies within us"
...The inspirational phrase was of little consolation to the captain of the S.S Retribution as his eyes scanned over the multiple targets upon a holo-screen. They were pirates, alright, a standard militaristic or GP fleet would never have been so inordinate in their arrangement, and judging from the caution purple hue, the small horde was property of the Banshees; a well-equipped galactic vendetta.
This was not to say that Calamity, captain of the much esteemed Retribution, was afraid of this sizeable opposition. A former zealot of the vast Space Marine army turned rouge pirate-hunter, his training, genetic enhancement and deceptive, viciously armed space-cruiser had all conspired to grant him the title of a living legend over several hurdles of galaxies.
...But even with that taken into effect, his situation looked edgy. Running a gloved hand through his crop of spiked, jet-black hair, Calamity breathed deeply and counted the score. The first target, a large, blocky vessel. Heavily armored, but slow as molasses, and possessing no defensive structure, save for a frontal-mounted turret. Clearly, it hauled cargo.
Acting as an escort were five smaller medium class cruisers, armed with standard laser cannons that were mounted at the port and starboard, and a missile-launcher on the belly. Every vessel's shield, for the time being, was down.
As luck would have it, the Retribution's long-range sensors had detected the small fleet nearing her location nearly a half-hour prior, giving the medium-sized vessel ample time to fully cloak itself, thus Calamity's spying was completely oblivious to his subjects...for now.
The ex-marine knew as well as anyone else that his ship could go on for only so long before being picked up on by rival detecting equipment. Given this, he could either hyper-jump to safety, without ever being noticed by the horde of Banshee cruisers, or use what little precious time was left to perform one Hell of a surprise-attack on the escort ships, and hope that the Retribution would be capable of carrying the rest of the assault.
Common logic would have leaned toward the first option, however Calamity's curiosity of the latter swayed him in it's direction. While maximizing his view of the carrier, the rogue muttered under his breath in a heavy Australian accent, "So, 'Mister Hauler', just what is it that yer' haulin'?" A grin spread across his bronze face as the lock-on initiated to the nearest escort cruiser. It's broadside was completely open. One attack from even his weakest weapons system would tear it up.
The sleek, lavender escort was quite abruptly railed toward port when a volley of missiles collided into it's starboard side, exploding on contact. As a scattered assortment of debris spread out across the timeless void of space, Calamity activated a Comms tapping system and was just as quickly greeted by a symphony of flabbergasted shouts and frantic, uncoordinated tumbling. Among it all someone, easily assumed to be the captain, shouted, "Power the engines up! Raise the shields and give me a status report! What the Hell just happened to us?!?"
It was shortly thereafter followed by a reply, "We've been SWARM'ed by an unknown middle-class vessel, about three hundred kilometers from our location. Both starboard mounts are gone, and the entire side is on critical"
"What can we do"
"I'm powering engines up and trying to run a scan across that ship. We gotta radio the others and tell them to cover us!"
The assaulted fleet did not allow their shock at this sudden front to slow them down. Seconds after an attack became official, shields on every vessel were engaged and the victimized cruiser, having lost both starboard cannons, begun to pitch around the fleet, not only to gain cover from it's peers, but to ready it's only remaining defenses for a counter attack. The next two escorts in close proximity to the Retribution responded to her assault by releasing a hail of crimson red lasers toward port, but their target was more evasive than expected. Just as the first beam neared the vessel, it performed a near 180 degree yaw and swung right, sustaining only minor damage to the shields. In the same fluid motion that this gambit was performed, the ship's nose dipped, bringing the rest of the frame to drop underneath the opposing fleet.
Calamity grinned at noting that they were slow to react. This was the perfect situation to utilize one of his new toys. With the press of a button, a large, reflective cannon sprouted from underneath a cover on top of the cruiser. Specifically, it was a class four particle beam, but it was better known as a 'Wasp'. Nearly half the size of it's commandeering ship and with it's nickname decaling the behemoth barrel, intimidation of this new weapon alone could have taken a small fleet of interceptors down.
As this new, massive laser cannon powered up, Calamity engaged the lock-on to his first 'victim' and mused, "Sorry, mate, but I always finish what I start."
Just as the crew onboard the damaged pirate vessel were beginning to register that their bogie was indeed underneath them, a large, bright blue beam smashed into the belly, jolting the entire ship about. One blast completely ravaged the shields; it's follow-up impaled the midsection, leaving such a large gap that it was nearly blown in half. The ship was left to hang there for roughly a minute, before the three attacks that burdened it took their toll. What little was left that connected the two halves of the ship in wake of the laser barrage snapped, and they both seemed to collapse into each other, shortly thereafter exploding.
Calamity wasted no time to celebrate. Just as promptly as what little remained of the vessel was considered safe to come near, the Retribution gained leverage and dove through the debris. His plans of using the pirate carrier's size as an advantage quickly died away when an automatic holo-screen materialized on the console, displaying his ship's six, and two escorts hot on it. The rouge arched an amused eyebrow. "...And what the bloody 'ell are you doin'?"
It almost seemed as though the pirates had caught on to the Retribution's one real weakness--no rear defense. A turret on the ship's belly could revolve completely around, but firing directly behind it would, quite evidently, go over like a led balloon.
An attack became imminent when one of the pursuer's Swarms revolved around to meet their target's rear hull. "You'll have to catch me first, mate!" Calamity taunted.
Just as the Swarm fired it's barrage of missiles, the Retribution's engines disgorged a turbo, catapulting it upward and out. The escorts were cleared easily, however their missiles were a tad harder to lose than Calamity had anticipated, leaving him with his past plan of heading toward the carrier. The cruiser's nose lifted to soar it higher, but what was subsequently brought into view nearly gave Calamity the urge to bring it to a full stop.
Directly in front of his vessel, a rough three hundred kilometers away, hung one of the other escorts. A holo-screen materialized to unveil another directly underneath him. Calamity scowled. He had not counted them out, but was by no means expecting either to assume the offensive, much less take part in a pursuit trap.
With his options narrowed to nothing, Calamity put a damper on the Retribution's speed and broke to the left. Shortly following, the Swarm missiles caught up with him and exploded onto the starboard side, listing the entire ship sharply to port. A klaxon's whine echoed through out the interior, indicating that the violent attack had hit home. "Son of a crack-whore!" Calamity hissed as the shield's reading dropped to nearly fifty percent
Capitalizing on the opportunity, one of the pirate escorts engaged a boost and begun to close the distance between themselves and the Retribution. At fifty kilometers, they opened fire. The mounted laser cannons powered briefly before releasing a cloud of red lasers, which lanced their target's port.
Calamity growled as the shields continued to drop, but was determined not to go down so easily. His fist slammed down on the 'Swarm' button as he hollered, "EAT THIS"
The sleek cruiser erupted a Swarm attack of her own, which collided into the escort's side, causing it to swerve slightly. Just as the afflicted pirate vessel begun to pull out, it's opponent performed a completely unexpected maneuver.
The Retribution rocketed upwards and pulled a near full yaw, bringing the Wasp mounted on top level with the escort beneath it. Before an evasive maneuver could even be planned, the bright blue particle beam smashed into the pirate vessel's hull, making short work of the shields before blasting through the armor. By the conclusion of the Wasp's attack, little was left of it's victim. Another Swarm discharged from the Retribution and finished it off.
"Two down, three to go..." Calamity huffed, glad to have gotten rid of his latest challenger. "And I still have a few tricks up my sleeve..." Either by subconscious planning, the intention of greater powers, or just plain dumb luck, his last skirmish had landed him in close proximity to the carrier. Easily weaving through the massive vessel's cannon-fire, the Retribution begun to bank around toward it's rear, but was stopped short when one of three remaining escorts jettisoned forward, flanking her port. As both vessels slowed to a halt, their neighboring positions brought the side-mounted cannons to bear on each other.
The Retribution was first to open fire. Mint-green plasma beams erupted from the mounts and lanced the escort's hull, gradually eating the shields away. Once the afflicted side was deemed 'critical', the pirate cruiser begun to return fire, catapulting a series of red bolts toward it's assailant. As the cruiser's shields continued to sustain damage, Calamity vacated his pilot's seat and ventured toward the belly, where the torpedo tubes were located. Two corridors and a flight of stairs later, he arrived at the destination. After surpassing a thick hatch-door, he went to work, hefting one of the explosive devices up, and shoving it into a nearby tube. "This'll give 'em one Helluva' scare..." The rogue sneered as he watched the last torpedo slide into it's tube.
The captain of a pursuing pirate vessel bore a smug expression upon his face as his eyes took in the contents of the most recent holo-screen. It had been a difficult battle, that was certain. To have brought down two of their own and pull maneuvers as he had seen, the pilot of their quarry had to have been very talented. Not only that, but the vessel itself was an impressive sight, armed to the teeth and capable of moving at nearly blinding speeds. But as it currently appeared, his escort's assistance wasn't necessary.
For whatever reason, the sleek, unreflective white cruiser had come to a standstill and initiated a short-lived
cannon-battle with the ship nearest to it. Just as quickly as the laser-fire begun, it stopped, and now it simply hung there in the void, allowing what little was left of it's shields to get thrashed.
Thrashed
The captain's eyebrow twitched in mild irritation when he noticed that the shields were almost completely depleted.
He gazed toward his communications technician.
"Get online with the idiot runnin' Leviathan and tell him to cool it with the lasers! We wanna' capture this ship, not reduce it to scrap-iron!"
"Will do." The officer replied while donning his ear-pieces.
With that, he looked toward his tactical officer.
"Do you have a reading on the head count in that ship? I wanna' know how much of a struggle we're gonna' get when we--"
Something on the holo-screen caught the captain from the corner of his eye, causing him to fall silent.
Blending in with the impending darkness around it, excruciating details of the small object that had discharged from the enemy vessel's belly were nearly impossible to make out, however a faint trail of exhaust contrasted with the blackness, and was almost enough of a shock to give the middle-aged skipper a heart attack.
"Torpedo..." He muttered in an almost inaudible tone.
"What?" The tactical officer asked, however he would not have time to receive an answer. Immediately thereafter, the object collided into the starboard side of the escort labeled "Leviathan".
A massive explosion rocked the pirate vessel, slinging the captain to the floor.
For a brief five minutes, the inside of his ship was pure chaos. The power had disrupted, not only cutting all capabilities of movement and defense, but enveloping the interior into darkness. The captain lay still, afraid to attempt standing. The shocked and terrified shouts of his crew pierced his earshot in ways that, in that instant, he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. However long that may be. One he paid a particular attention to--the voice of his tactical officer, hollering redundantly, "Stay away from the glass!". Seemingly, the return of power, more namely lumination, caused the panic to, if not subside, die down considerably. Slowly, the captain lifted his head from the smooth tile floor, directly to the holo-screen which, as he assumed, had reappeared.
His eyes glued to the Leviathan, or at least, where it once was. Taking
the escort's place was a miniature supernova.
"St...status report..." He muttered weakly in the direction his tactical officer's booth. It would take a moment for an answer to come.
"...Our shields are half depleted. We should be okay, but Leviathan was...annihilated "
The captain's teeth bared.
"I'm aware of that!" He growled while assuming a standing position. Once fully recovered, he stalked over to the booth.
"What was that weapon?" He demanded. "It couldn't have been an ordinary torpedo! Not to have done that!" His finger extended toward the supernova on the screen. The officer scanned over the report before replying, "It was a 'Stingray'. Their small nukes that"
"I know what they are!" The captain interrupted him in a venomous voice. "How many people are on that vessel?"
He relented, clearly not wanting to answer.
"HOW MANY?" The captain bellowed, causing the rest of the crew to fall silent.
"...One."
The words had hit the skipper harder than he had anticipated, completely satiating his anger. Replacing it was cold, raw fear.
"That...that...that can't be!" He stammered, snapping his head back in the direction of the holo-screen.
"Where is he now?"
"The ship hyper-jumped behind our carrier before impact." The officer replied to his superior's back. He made the dire mistake of adding, "This guy's good."
In a millisecond, the captain was whirled completely around, cleared across the booth and directly in his face.
"NO ONE ASKED FOR YOUR GODAMN'T OPINION!" He seethingly hollered, "THE MAN BEHIND THAT WHEEL IS NOT GOOD! HE'S A DAMN PUSSY USING A RIDICULOUSLY EQUIPPED MONSTER TO PICK US OFF! WHAT THE FU"
"Captain!" The communications tech. called from behind him, causing him to spin on his heel.
"What?" He hissed.
"I've just received a transmission from the Widow-maker! They've engaged the enemy and have already been put on critical! Assistance is requested!"
Again, the captain's cavalcade of lividity quickly vanquished.
"...What?" He muttered in an almost defeated tone. "Critical? We didn't...even..." His lips curled as words failed him. It took little to no time for that utterly enraged, hate-blind persona to return.
"Hyper-jump to Widow-maker's position. NOW!" He snarled.
The escort known to it's peers as 'Widow-maker' railed away as another Swarm attack slammed into it, shredding the hull. Calamity grinned, watching the carnage maximize. Whilst indulging in his enemy's upset, it had become clear that they had failed to detect, much less anticipate, his cruiser to posses a torpedo hatch. After easily weaving around a bout of return-fire, he zeroed in on the un-defended port side. "Y'know what they say, mate." He mused before depressing the Swarm button once more, "The prettiest flower in the garden is often the deadliest."
The last remaining pirate cruiser would arrive at the side of it's comrade just in time to see it explode into a ball of flames. The captain watched the holo-screen, allowing what it displayed to shackle his lungs only briefly. "Swarm him..." He commanded in a low, harsh voice. Despite being heard and obeyed, his mindset blew, "If he loves that damn thing so much, let him know exactly how it feels! I don't want you to stop firing till we're all out! 'Till his ship's nothing but a God Damn ball of light, like Leviathan! Swarm, SWARM, SWAAAAAAARM!!!" A slew of missiles erupted from the escort's belly-mount and rocketed toward the Retribution. In response, the cruiser propelled forward, allowing the horde of explosives pursuit, however to Calamity's near hysterical surprise, a holo-screen materialized, displaying the escort firing another hail of missiles.
While gaining leverage as to avoid the new threat, the rogue yelled in mock fear, "Head for the high hills! Ole' cap'n 'Perseverance' has lost his damn mind!"
"Captain..." The technical officer begun in a pleading voice, "He's just weaving and out-running every Swarm we're firing off! Staying here would be...would be..." He stammered and trailed, however the communications technician finished for him, "Suicide!". He slammed his hands against the surface of his booth and stood, clearly unafraid of his commander.
"Captain, your frustration is understandable, but it's time we face facts!"
The captain did not answer, however the expression upon his face emitted a necessary indication that he wasn't listening. The tech. relented slightly, but continued, "That ship's got two devastating weapons on it, some kind of ungodly propulsion, and we're not even sure if it's used everything it has! We're no match for it!"
It was at this point that his superior begun to tremble violently.
"Mutiny." He growled. "MUTINY ON MY SHIP!" His growl lapsed into a bellow as his hand darted for the holster at his waist.
Just as promptly as the blaster's barrel was leveled with the forehead of his subordinate, a foot slammed into the captain's wrist, not only causing him to drop the firearm, but stagger backward till he lost balance and tumbled over. The tactical officer pinned him to the ground whilst the technician seized the blaster and begun to search for something to bound him with. Others who were present watched in silent astonishment.
It would take less than ten minutes for the captain to be bound, deemed harmless, and for the crew, free of his rule, to have vacated the ship on the only two present escape vessels. Almost as if to add insult to injury, their tyrannical superior was left in such a way that he was directly facing the holo-screen, thus when the enemy cruiser pulled a yaw, as to line the Wasp up with his own, he was present and aware for every pain-staking second. The cannon charged briefly before releasing a brilliantly bright beam, which crashed into the hull. Klaxons that brayed throughout the brig combining with the explosions and several pre-recorded critical shield warnings slowly begun to deteriorate his neurosis. His last thoughts before the escort was destroyed were far from ordinary, and even more-so distant from coherent.
Calamity watched on a holo-screen of his own as the explosion begun to settle. With a broad grin beginning to form across his face, he switched the view to the carrier, which had hardly changed it's position. "No friends to help ya' now..." He mused as the Retribution slowly begun to drift toward the enemy vessel's air locks, easily weaving around it's laser-fire for the brief moment that the front-mounted cannons were bearing on her.
After closing the gap between the Retribution and the carrier's air locks, which were located near the large vessel's belly, to roughly a hundred kilometers, Calamity rose to his feet and started for a storage unit at the rear of his ship. To have had five medium class cruisers escorting it, there was undoubtedly something valuable onboard that ship--something that the Banshees wouldn't surrender without fighting to the bitter end. This meant an opposition every bit as fierce inside the carrier as it was outside.
..And ultimately that meant that he would have to be armed, and armored, to the teeth.
If it was anything he had learned with past experience, it was this--one could 'never' be too careful when it came to Space Pirates.
While some carried the tradition of being hectic, reprobate scavenges with a system of morals as high as their I.Q, others were known for being cruel, cunning and malicious. Doing battle with them nogalisticly reminded the former Space Marine of his life in the forty-second century.
"My own time..." He muttered upon reaching his destination, a reflective pair of steel double doors. Upon depressing a button located on a neighboring panel, the doors swung inward, granting access to the room behind them.
Measuring a rough fifteen by ten feet, three of the four storage walls were occupied by moderately dust-caked white shelves, most of which yielded vast amounts of ranged artillery and ammunition cases. A suit of heavy tactical armor was incased in a glass tube, positioned at the corner of the only open wall. Former property of the UltraMarine regimen, it still possessed the gargantuan shoulder guards that, in Calamity's original time-frame, instantaneously labeled the wearer as part of either the Space or Chaos Marine army. A gold plated eagle brandished the chest-piece, signifying indefinite alliance with the UltraMarines, however, the suit's color had been changed, from deep blue to a near pearly white. In the rouge's mindset, this indicated that, though still a member of the regimen, in his current situation, his purpose for fighting was his own, and in the twentieth century, he was alone.
Though Calamity maintained the usual upright demeanor that was known to vex his enemies, he could not refrain from inwardly wondering if he would ever return to the forty second century.
-End chapter one-
Next chapter-
All business, Calamity boards the Pirate Carrier and battles through it's defending forces, however towards the end, he is met with an utterly unexpected surprise. One that he will, by no means, appreciate.
Closing note Should you have made it this far, don't fret--Tenchi and company 'will' come into this fic in due time (the next chapter, depending on how long I decide to prolong it). As I write, I am attempting to study the relationship between them, so things will be more enjoyable, in character, believable, etc.