Tylgar stole a second glance, but turned around quickly when he saw the Captain. Yen’s body pulsed with an inner light as the psychic power infused him. His eyes, open on his corporeal body on the bridge, flared brightly with an inner energy.
As the Revolution hurtled through the chaos of battle, rockets reflected harmlessly off the psychic shield. The metal slugs rebounded harmlessly in random directions, whirling aimlessly into space. Undaunted, the Revolution continued forward, driving through the insignificantly amassed Terran fighters. Yen felt exalted as the small fighters ignited and exploded on his shield. He reveled in the massive loss of life and yearned for more.
Seeing that its weapons were ineffective, the Destroyer’s Captain began ordering the ship to flee from the possessed Alliance Cruiser. Large and sluggish, even in the weightlessness of space, the Destroyer slowly turned away from Yen in an attempt to escape his wrath. Unwilling to lose another prey, Yen pushed the engines on board the Revolution, quickly covering the distance between the two ships. Moving like a wedge driven through the few remaining fighters, Yen launched two full salvos of missiles at the exposed flank of the Destroyer. Unprotected, the Terran ship took the rockets in rapid succession. It began to list as the engine exploded from rocket fire, ripping a hole through the rear hull. Explosions continued as more and more of the missiles detonated along the length of its hull, shredding its armored plating and sending debris launching into space. Wanting to ensure the ship was out of commission, Yen fired another salvo into the dead ship, reveling in the explosions that finally ripped the Destroyer in two.
Bringing the Revolution back around toward the rest of the battle, Yen released control of the ship and the blue glow slowly receded from his body. His mind felt like molten lava, burning through his faint thoughts and scorching the back of his eyes. Dominating the ship had been a strain, but he knew that much more power remained stored within his body, ready for release.
His eyes finally focusing again, Yen looked through the forward display at the overlapping fields of plasma explosions and damaged ships. The Terran and Alliance fighters swarmed over one another, accentuated by the bloated Cruisers and Destroyers firing massive barrages of firepower upon the unsuspecting fighter pilots. Knowing the Revolution was now one of the least damaged ships in the Fleet, Yen tried to assess the situation.
“Where can we do the most damage?” he asked the Crewman manning the tactical display. The Crewman’s reactions were painfully slow, making Yen wish that someone competent were manning that console. Someone like Merric, he thought dreadfully.
“Sir,” the Uligart Crewman croaked, obviously nervous. “The Alliance Fleet is suffering heavy losses. Six more ships have been severely damaged or destroyed. Two more are limping away from the battle as quickly as their engines will allow. They have minimal weapons still, but another rocket attack will destroy their maneuverability. Sir, we are losing the war of attrition against the Terrans.”
Yen felt his lips peel back into a snarl at the insolent tactician. “I did not come all this way just to fail,” Yen yelled at the Crewman, his eyes resuming their blue illumination. “I am not a quitter, nor am I a coward! If you can’t see that we’re far from done, than I have no use for you.”
When the Crewman didn’t move, Yen elaborated. “Leave my bridge, you coward!” The Uligart fled at once, not chancing a backward glance until he was safely on the elevator with the doors closed behind him.
Yen typed furiously onto his Captain’s console, pulling all the tactical display data onto his own monitor. Turning on the three dimensional display on his console, Yen watched the elaborate dance of red and blue dots flying near and around the six planets of the galaxy. Entering commands into the display, the small dots of both the Terran and Alliance fighters disappeared. If Yen were to make a show that they were still more than capable of winning this war, it would have to be done against one of the Destroyers. Checking the data, Yen found what he was looking for. Directly ahead, a Destroyer noticed the Revolution and turned in his direction.
“Take us straight ahead,” Yen ordered to Tylgar, the only other member left on the bridge. Then, he muttered to himself, “If they want a show of force, then I will give them a show they will never forget.”
The power churned within him like waves pounding a rocky shoreline as the Destroyer appeared in the forward view screen. Still far away, both ships hurtled toward one another over the distance. As the distant ship began to grow from a barely visible dot to a more defined Terran ship, Yen let the energy seep from his body. He felt disconnected from his own body as the psychic power filled every fiber of his being, pulsating like veins just below the surface of his yellowed skin. Yen had never allowed so much energy to fill his body before. The energy made him feel like more than a man; it made him feel like a God. And, as a God, Yen was full of wrath!
Growing closer to one another, the Terrans fired a salvo of missiles. Distractedly, Yen waved his hand, knocking all the rockets aside. When the Terrans fired a second time, Yen held out his hand, slowing the rockets’ approach. As he closed his fingers into a tight fist, all the missiles exploded at once in a dazzling display of pyrotechnics. The smoldering plasma hung in the space between the two ships for a few seconds, allowing Yen to prepare the grand finale of this confrontation.
Placing his palms together, Yen focused on the front of the Terran ship as it broke through the superheated plasma cloud. He drove his hands forward, feeling satisfaction as his unseen power slipped through the hull of the Destroyer. Slowly, Yen tried to pull his palms apart. The resistance working against him was great and his muscles strained from the effort. Ahead, a single puff of decompressing air appeared at the front of the Terran ship. Letting his power drain more energy from him, Yen tried pulling his hands apart once more. Flares of fire burst in his mind from the strain and the taste of copper filled the back of his throat. His effort, however, was rewarded as two new bursts of breathable air escaped from the front of the enemy ship.
“You’re mine,” Yen muttered under his breath as a drop of blood trickled from his nose. “I’ll see you dead.”
Digging his fingers deeper into the hull of the Terran ship, Yen channeled his power into the enemy vessel, reveling in the screams he heard in his mind and the popping bulkheads he felt throughout the Destroyer.
Smiling wickedly, Yen exalted in the fact that he knew the fight was near the end. Tightening the muscles in his arms in preparation for one more blast of psychic energy, Yen screamed into the bridge of the Revolution.
“I have seen things you will never comprehend!” Yen yelled into the nearly empty room. Onboard the Terran ship, the crew stood startled as the alien voice roared through all the rooms of their vessel. Within his own ship, his voice was equally amplified; echoing through the halls like a disembodied immortal. “I sailed along the thermal waves of a solar flare, I swam through a nebula, and dove into the heart of a dying star. And, when I was done, I dropped my anchor here, among the simple minds of the Alliance. I saw as though the veil had lifted, revealing the mysteries of the universe. I drifted through the rifts of time and space until I settled beyond self, beyond reason, beyond mortality. And I said unto my friends, my brothers, my mother, and my father: look upon me, for I am a God!”
As his hands separated, so did the front of the Terran Destroyer. Like a black hole leading to the Abyss, a seam appeared at the nose of the enemy ship. It quickly widened as the Terran ship began to split in half. The blue energy fully encompassed Yen on the bridge, bathing the entire room in bright light. Finally flinging his arms wide, Yen unleashed his full psychic fury. The Destroyer, in response, ripped in half. The thick plating running the length of the ship tore like paper, exposing floor after floor to the vacuum of space. Explosions erupted up and down the hull as key electric systems failed. Yen stood, his arms held out by his side, as the psychic backlash caused by thousands of sudden deaths washed over him. When the two halves of the ship began drifting apart from one another, Yen collapsed into the Captain’s chair, blood dripping freely from his nose and pooling on his lap. The room danced before his eyes as his equilibrium failed. Closing his eyes, Yen hid his face in his hands. Even without seeing the room, it still spun in his weakened mind.